396 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
Then there is such an extent of cedar forest, dotted here and there 
with patches of highly-cultivated garden, that it is hard to find 
birds, or, when found, to follow them up. Mosquitoes are fright- 
fully large and ferocious in summer and autumn, especially in and 
around the ponds and swamps. Many a time have I lost a long- 
expected shot by having to brush the little torments in dozens 
from my nose and eyes. And as to believing a word the good- 
natured coloured people tell you about the extraordinary birds 
they see, it is simply impossible. 
But, in spite of these drawbacks, 1 enjoyed my ornithological 
labours vastly, and look back with pleasure not only to the 
successful stalk or lucky snap-shot which occasionally rewarded 
my exertions, but also to the numerous instructive hours I passed, 
field-glass in hand, in the deepest recesses of the swamps or on the 
open shore, watching the agile Muiotilta varia and the comical 
Totanus solitarius, or listening to the loud musical “chip” of 
Seiurus noveboracensis, aud the harsh, grating cry of the Phaétons. 
In the following notes I have largely availed myself of those of 
Major Wedderburn (late 42ud Highlanders) and Mr. Hurdis (for- 
merly Controller of Customs in the islands), which have already 
been given to the public in a little work, entitled ‘The Naturalist 
in Bermuda,’ to which I have already alluded ; also of the collection 
of birds formed, during the last twenty-five years, by Mr. Bartram, 
of Stocks Point, near St. George’s. I trust | may be held excused 
for the constant references to these sources of information, both by 
the gentlemen named and by the indulgent ornithological reader. — 
Major Wedderburn and Mr. Hurdis compiled their valuable notes 
long before my time, as may be inferred from the date of the book 
mentioned (1859) ; and since their departure no one, except my 
friend Mr. J. M. Jones, appears to have kept any record of the 
bird-life of the islands—more’s the pity. With Mr. Bartram, now 
an elderly man, I struck up a great friendship, and I spent many 
an afternoon poring over his birds. Of these I made out a catalogue 
for him, likely, I think, to defy the criticism of his ordinary 
visitors, though | cannot quite vouch for its accuracy on all points. 
The genus Dendroéca is truly a “caution,” and several of Mr. 
Bartram’s specimens, ancient and somewhat dilapidated, puzzled 
me sorely. © 
He has about one hundred and ten species of Bermuda birds, 
and many “outsiders” mixed up with them; but I was careful, 
