Jan. 1886.] 

the location of the former nest, I found another 
of the same species. It was much more loosely 
formed than the previous one, and it was placed 
higher on a wild grape-vine, or rather, where sev- 
eral of these vines intersected each other at a dis- 
tance of about nine feet from the ground. The 
bird was more wary tian the forraer one, and 
flew from her home while I was yet five yards 
distant, but not until I had positively identified 
her as the Black-billed species. This nest con- 
tained six eggs, which, as [found upon preparing 
them later, were in all stages of incubation. Two 
were on the point of being hatched, two others 
were partly incubated, and the remaining two 
were nearly fresh. As the number seemed to me 
to be excessive, I sought all the information I 
could upon the subject from the works of various 
writers, and in no case did I find a record of 
more than “‘four or five.’ Then I consulted a 
better medium than any published writings, 
namely : the personal experiences of collectors. 
Both in person, and by letter did I prosecute my 
inquiries, but none had ever found more than 
four eggs ina Black-billed Cuckoo’s nest—two or 
three being more generally met with. So I came 
to the conclusion that I was fortunate in my ex- 
ploit, if indeed my case was not unique, and I 
set about reasoning how these six eggs came 
there, and if the capture of the nest of the other 
bird in close proximity, on June 5th was not an 
important factor in the problem. I concluded 
that the bird who was deprived of her home in 
the first instance, had either surreptitiously de- 
posited her unlaid eggs in her neighbor's nest, or 
that she being hard pressed to lay, had made 
known her complaint to the lastnamed, who had 
extended her hospitality to her stricken sister, as 
would seem to be the case, and thus brought joy 
and novelty to the heart of one oologist. Both 
the first nest and single egg, and the set of six 
eggs are now in my collection, and the writer 
would be pleased if these lines would cause some 
other collector to state his experience as to the 
complement of the Black-billed Cuckoo. 
On the same day, June 14th, not more than 
one-quarter of a mile from the location spoken 
of I found a nest containing four eggs of the 
Yellow-billed Cuckoo, which must have been 
laid on succceding days, as incubation was about 
equally advanced in all. The eggs of neither of 
these birds (being in no wise remarkable) need 
any description here, but I will always associate 
in my mind a certain damp, dark spot in Dela- 
ware County, Pennsylvania, with the two species 
of Cuckoo. 
15 
winged Hawk. 
BY HARRY G. PARKER, CHESTER, PENN. 
One day in January while riding on horseback 
through Delaware County, my attention was sud- 
denly arrested by seeing three hawks nailed up, 
belly outward, against the front of a well-to-do 
farmer’s barn; probably as a warning to their fel- 
lows that this particular rustic was bound to pro- 
tect his hens and pigeons at all odds. So unusual 
a sight prompted me to dismount and seek the 
acquaintance of the owner, and if possible gain 
some points concerning his winged foes. This 
man was only one of the vast army of country- 
men who for years have waged an unceasing 
crusade against the detested birds known to them 
as ‘“Hen and Chicken Hawks.” So successful 
has been this warfare, that it is a miracle, almost, 
that any members of the Raptores are bold enough 
to choose their sites, build their homes, lay eggs 
and rear young amongst their relentless enemies. 
On May 2d, however, I saw a pair of Broad- 
winged Hawks, (Buteo pennsylvanicus), who 
showed unmistakably that they had a nest in the 
near neighborhood, and the lateness of the season 
only confirmed my belief that they intended 
breeding with us. As I knew of no authentic in- 
stance of the eggs of this species having been tak- 
en in Delaware County, and as I was more than 
anxious to add another species of hawk to my 
“ personal collection” column, I sought at once in 
a systematic manner, their abode. <A search of 
two hours revealed many nests, near the tree tops, 
any of which from a ground view might have 
been easily mistaken for the one I sought. After 
climbing several trees and peeping into as many 
Crow’s nests, I was well nigh discouraged and 
fatigued; but when on the top of one of the tallest 
oaks in the wood I was in, I saw what I felt in- 
stinctively was the nest of the birds, who mean- 
while remained perfectly passive spectators of my 
scansorial exercise. As the tree was a giant, and 
as night was coming on, and I was a long distance 
from home, I left the wood with the determina- 
tion of returning on the morrow. By the aid of 
a man and a coil of heaving line, I was safely 
landed on the lowest limb of this oak on the af- 
ternoon of May 4th. It proved all that I had an- 
ticipated, and I looked for the first time into the 
nest of this stout little, ample-winged Buteo. At 
this date it was evidently just finished, and con- 
tained no eggs. It was exactly eighty-seven feet 
from the ground, in the forks of the oak, near its 
top, and was a well made and compact structure ; 
first a foundation of fagots, twigs and leaves, 
