AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 105 



ily marked creatures as they pick their way over the trunks and branch- 

 es of the trees. They examine every nook and cranny in the bark, hop- 

 ing to find some stray insect that had escaped the sharp eyes of the num- 

 erous other birds that had searched the same territory. When thus oc- 

 cupied they seem unmindful of any one watching them and only hop out 

 of the way when one thinks he is close enough to catch them in the 

 hand. 



I know of no other Warbler, or in fact any of the smaller birds, in 

 which the instinct of home preservation is so well developed. Last sum- 

 mer as I was walking through a small swampy piece of woods, a small 

 black and white bird fluttered in a most helpless manner across my path. 



If I had been unacquainted with the ways of this bird I should have 

 thought that the poor bird had been the victim of some boy with an air 

 gun or perhaps had barely escaped some of the eats that delight in roam- 

 ing in the woods. As is my usual custom in such cases, after noting the 

 exact place at which I had first seen the bird I followed it to see its ac- 

 tions. It appeared to be in very bad shape and even the smallest twig 

 was sufficient to cause it to stumble or fall. One wing was trailing be- 

 hind and the bird really appeared to be wholly unable to use it. The 

 mouth was open as though she was gasping for breath and it looked as 

 though at any instant she might fall over and expire. Still she manag- 

 ed to have vitality enough to keep herself always a few inches beyond 

 reach of my outstretched arm. After she had led me by a very devious 

 course to a distance of about twenty feet through the underbrush, she 

 chirped in a gay manner and flew to the trunk of a tree, where she start- 

 ed looking for food as innocently as though she had never seen me. If 

 anyone had not noticed just where the bird started from, even if they 

 had thought of a nest as being the cause of the strange actions, they 

 would never have been able to find it again. I went back and in an old 

 stump, the inside of which and one side, had rotted away, I found five 

 eggs laying in a nest made of grapevine. After I had found the nest, 

 the bird, though very angry, still had hopes of being able to deceive me 

 and would again and again throw herself at my feet and try to lead me 

 away. Why she had left the stump in the first place is a mystery, as 

 several times afterwards, when I passed that way, I made a point of 

 going by her home. Although she watched me very closely, even when 

 I placed my hand on the stump she remained in position on the nest, 

 crouched down so closely that the only visible portions were the sharp 

 eyes and the tail that stuck upright against the side of the dead wood. 



Nature's provisions for the protection of her feathered children are 

 truly wonderful, and are little realized by those who are content to spend 

 their spare time in loitering about the city streets. 



