VKimoxT Bird Cr.ri! 13 



PHOTOGRAPHING A NESTING WOODCOCK. 

 Harry L. Piper, Westminster. 



I first made the acquaintance of my woodcocli on a bright May 

 morning. I had an appointment with her but she did not know it. 

 A friend brought me word that he had found a woodcock's nest in his 

 pasture in a location unusually favorable for a photograph. Of course 

 I took the hint at the very first opportunity. 



My friend's farm is on a high breezy hill, sloping toward the 

 sunrise and with a far outlook through a picturesque valley. We 

 walked cautiously out through a little grove of hardwood and hemlocks, 

 and just at the southern edge my friend pointed silently underneath a 

 hemlock about as high as my head. I looked and looked again, but I 

 could see only the brown leaves flecked with sunshine and shadow. Still 

 my friend's finger pointed insistently to a spot about six feet from us 

 just under the edge of the lower hemlock branches. At last I saw just 

 what I had been looking for all the time — a fat mother woodcock sit- 

 ting motionless among the brown leaves. I had been prepared for an 

 example of protective coloration but I had not realized how perfectly 

 the mottled and streaked back of the bird would blend with the dead 

 leaves and grasses. If one looked away an instant, he would have to 

 look sharply at the spot again before he could malve out the outline of 

 the sitting bird. It was an amazing demonstration of a familiar fact. 



The bird kept her place until we were within four feet of her, and 

 then flew off with the characteristic whistling flight. Two eggs were 

 in the nest. I took one picture of the nest and eggs at close range 

 and then set up the camera in a partially screened position about six 

 feet from the nest. I waited, and in about five minutes I heard a slight 

 rustle in the grass on my left. Turning around slightly I saw the old 

 woodcock leisurely walking in a circle around me and the nest. She 

 was not 20 feet from me but only now and then could I catch a glimpse 

 of her, so well did she take advantage of the scant shelter the rough 

 pasture afforded. She circled nearly half way ai'ound me and in- 

 spected me and the camera from many viewpoints. Finally she walked 

 rapidly away down the hill. I saw no more of her although I waited 

 a half hour for her return. 



Fearing that the eggs might be harmed by too long exposui'e. I 

 went away. On my return ten minutes later she was on the nest. She 



