AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



235 



its prey. The Jay immediately ceased its cries and, although apparent- 

 ly badly injured, managed to escape into the thick undergrowth. 



After we had returned and resumed our seats on the piazza we sud- 

 denly discovered that something was missing which had helped to 

 make up the beauty and glory of the day, it was the song and the 

 sight of the birds. Where only a few moments before had been a 

 scene of animation and the air aquiver with melody, not a bird was to 

 be seen and an almost oppressive silence reigned; and those conditions 

 continued throughout the balance of that day. 



Death was stalking abroad in Bird-Land and the terror stricken in- 

 habitants were endeavoring to escape the grim specter. 



Walter Nathan Pike, N. Y. 



THE COTTAGE BY THE WOOD, 



T was the writer's good fortune to 

 spend the summer months of the year 

 1900 in a cozy little cottage in a subur- 

 ban district, the natural surroundings 

 of which were such as to at once appeal 

 to a naturalist, aside from furnishing 

 ample opportunity for rest and quiet. 

 The large lawn belonging to the prop- 

 erty, with its abundance of shade trees, 

 fronted on the main avenue of a popu- 

 lous corporate town, while in the rear, 

 as the title implies, was a strip of wood- 

 land, which in turn, was bordered by 

 a clearing, covered its whole length 

 mainly by briars and low thick bushes, 

 being intersected by a winding brook. 



Birds in the locality were quite numerous and some of them showed 

 remarkable tameness. During the hours of night time, giving voice 

 as it were to the weird lights and shadows around the house, we could 

 hear the mournful ditty of a Screech Owl whose home was in a nearby 

 hickory tree, while the first grey streak of each returning dawn was 

 heralded by the sweet songs of the Robins. Flickers were frequently 

 seen hopping around in the grass near the roots of various trees. 

 Notes of the Yellow-billed Cuckoo were also heard in the thick foliage 

 of the maples. Red-eye Vireos kept up a continual warbling all day 

 long, and doubtless had a nest in the vicinity, as we observed the 

 mother bird feeding two very young ones; the latter being perched in 



