34 



OKNITHOLOGI8T 



[Vol. 15-No. 3 



and tlie next boji,- we drew blanks. Tliongh we 

 fired our guns, tried all known arts, and with 

 our already drenched clothes swept tlie heavy 

 rain drops from every bush and briar we 

 could not flush a feather. The third bog 

 through which Broad Brook's biggest feeder 

 runs, we found to be wholly under water. 

 While we were wading through a thick and 

 brushy corner, a farmer's voice from out of 

 the de])ths of the swamp hailed us: "You 

 hain't seen nothin' of a brindled yearlin' 

 heifer?" No, we hadn't, but later we saw the 

 body of the drowned calf caugiit by tlie brush 

 in the main brook. 



Hopeless and bedrabbled, dog and men, we 

 then drove to our last likely bog, only to have a 

 further instalment of this wet day's hard luck. 

 In vain, by sections, did we ai)parently cross 

 and re-cross every foot of the marsh. In fact 

 we once emerged on the upland, blown and 

 completely discouraged, unhitched our team, 

 climbed slowly in, and had actually turned 

 around towards home, when my climber gave 

 me such a look of mingled disgust and new con- 

 fidence wliich I interpreted, so without a word 

 we fastened our team and liurried back to the 

 old bog wiiicli liad never failed us beft)re. Five 

 minutes later though intent on my own beat, I 

 happened to look over my shoulder and saw 

 a Hawk start at the very heels of my climber, 

 but beliind liim, -Awd after he liad slowly jxrsscd 

 het- hi/. .1 shouted to liim and he whirled 

 around, fired, but missed the Hawk. 1 was 

 delighted at the poor shot, for there were six 

 tine eggs, and tiiere may be another big clutch 

 about May "21), isiio. Indeed this vvas within 

 two rods of tlie s])ot where I got my (inest set 

 of seven eggs in 1882. 



Taking heart from this bit of luck, and liav- 

 ing t>vo hours moi'c of daylight, we drove 

 back to our liist bog to sweep it witli a long 

 heavy rope. We were cpiietly knotting the 

 rope on tlie bank when the male Hawk came 

 quickly aronnd a hill and i)lumped into the 

 marsh with a cry like a Coojter. Answering 

 its call the female at once took wing and sailed 

 away for her supper. We were holding back the 

 dog, and I had l)een sitting on the gun to keei) 

 my climber from using it; l)ut at tliis point the 

 dog broke away and dashed into tlie bog, but 

 came to a stand at tlie nest. Nor would the 

 Hawk start from her live eggs till we walked 

 up to the nest ahead of the dog, which we 

 would not allow to .jump for his usual mouth- 

 ful of feathers. Now we do not know why 

 the birds lay so close all day, unless from the 

 heavy atmosphere and the depression from 



tlie Hoods of rain. In the diy weatlier our 

 dog rarely has failed to point Marsh Hawks, 

 and the birds start before we get within a rod 

 of the nest. This bog was of spJiayninn, fast 

 filling with young maples, and the nest was 

 big enough to be moved. 



No nest held the six eggs; the bog itself was 

 free of trees, but the substratum of tsplmtjnuin 

 was wholly overrun with acurious matted tangle 

 of dwarfed sheep laurel. The woo<led swamij 

 back of the bog was filled with pitcher plant and 

 purple cypripediniii and great clumps of rare 

 wild ciilhilWy {('alia pabistris). J. M. \V, 



Nomenclature Impromptu. 



The facility with which the irreverent small 

 boy forms an ornithological nomenclature, 

 often astonishes the more initiated. Un- 

 trammelled by "system" or in fact any of the 

 paraphernalia of science, he gives his fancy 

 full sway, and evolves names uncouth indeetl, 

 but wliicli prove satisfactory for all his jjur- 

 2>oses. To him the simple appellation '"Cot- 

 ton Tail" seems vastly more appropriate than 

 (.'olaptes cafev. 



A knowledge of these absurd common names 

 proves frequently a valuable ac<iuisi- 

 tion. Your dense ignorance (to the small boy 

 mind) of what the "Chippe-ca-ca" or "Toffie" 

 is, nniy be regretted afterward when you find, 

 perhaps, you have missed securing ii- nice set 

 of Parux. inaratHN. Many of these local names 

 are taken from the bird's api)earrance or |)ecu- 

 liarities, and are sometimes singularly ai)pro- 

 priate. The Lazuli Bunting is the "Blue Ca- 

 nary"; the Russet-backed Thrush is given the 

 name of •■lighter," while the Black-headed 

 Grosbeak is (luite correctly styled the 

 " Whistler. ■■ 



.\ friend of mine, who h;id begun to collect 

 eggs, with very little knowledge of the birds, 

 astonished me once by the statement that he 

 had found a number oi nests of the Red- 

 shafted Flicker htdlt in the tales. It did not 

 t'.ike long to discover that his Flicker was a 

 Red-winged Blackbird. Tliey ar(( sometimes 

 called " soldier birds." 



As I was strolling along a river bottom 

 near Pleasanton one day I asked a youthful 

 egg colle(^tor what bird had flown up near us '* 

 (it was a California 'rowhcc.) and he replied, 

 "Oh, that's a, Brown bird, but that's only what 

 the boys call it, its right name is Ground 

 Thrush." My informant remarked apologeti- 



