Notes on the Nesting of Bobwhite at Flowerfield, L. I. 



By John Lewis Childs 



MY bulb and seed farm of nearly 1,000 acres at Flowerfield, L. I., is a 

 Bobwhite paradise. For years this bird has not been shot, hunted or 

 purposely molested in any way. Food is abundant and ample cover and re- 

 fuge is found in the numerous hedges and small thickets, scattered here and 

 there. They have become not only abundant but very tame, nesting about 

 in the most exposed and frequented places. 



I have found them particularly abundant in the vicinity of a large dense 

 grove of red cedar which is, by the way, the most beautiful thing in rugged 

 nature I have ever seen. The grove is perhaps 10 acres in extent advantageous- 

 ly situated on a slight elevation, the ground sloping gently away from it on 

 all sides. To the south the grove shows an unbroken line for neafly 1,000 

 feet ; all decidious trees have been removed from this side and the cedars 

 present a solid wall up to the sky line, where it breaks into a thousand spires. 

 Here and there an old patriarch stands a little out from the line like a mas- 

 sive pillow. The wind moves this dense bank of foliage much as it makes 

 ripples on placid water. < Lights and shadows have their play and the eye 

 is rested as it lingers with delight upon the richness and denseness of the 

 most beautiful dark green color which nature shows. At one spot half a 

 dozen spires support a mass of American woodbine, which I was once on the 

 point of cutting out and thankful I am that I did not, for passing that way 

 one morning next Autumn I found that these spires had flamed out like 

 beacon lights, and against the surrounding masses of rich green they made 

 a picture which I have never seen equalled in autumn foliage color. This 

 grove of red cedars has been an object of beauty for nearly a hundred years 

 and may it stand for centuries to come in all its rugged grandeur, a de- 

 light and pleasure to look upon every day in the year. In summer its dense- 

 ness, its darkness, and its richness contrast wonderfully with the verdure 

 and lighter green of other foliage. In autumn when browns, and crimsons, 

 and fading greens, and dull yellows are conspicuous it is superfine. In winter 

 it is like a rich gem in a colorless matrix, but when surrounded by a mantle 

 of snow it stands out upon the landscape more beautiful than at any other 

 time. It harbors the cottontail, the elegant gray squirrel, the chip-munk, 

 the exquisite whited-footed mouse, and the wary marmot. In spring the 

 song of the black-throated green warbler is heard the livelong day, a bird 

 I have found breeding at only one other place on L. I. The green heron 

 comes regularly to this beautiful strove to nest and here the ringf-necked 



