THE OOLOGIST 



25 



dicated that this piece was soon to get 

 the axe. I sat down on one of the 

 fallen trees to meditate and as I was 

 just about to go and bang on the 

 Chestnut, I noted a shadow pass over 

 the ground, and upon looking up, saw 

 a Barred Owl flying over my head and 

 in a direct line leading from the Chest- 

 nut tree. Casting my eyes along the 

 large dead tree I noticed that the top 

 looked as if it had been broken off, but 

 from the ground I was unable to tell 

 whether it was hollow or not. It ap- 

 peared to be and as I could see no 

 cavity in the large Ash tree close by 

 concluded that it must be the right 

 one. Although I was looking for 

 Owls' nests, I had left my climbing- 

 irons at home so would have to leave 

 my hidden treasures until the follow- 

 ing Saturday, when my half-holiday 

 fiom business would again permit me 

 to make the trip. I disliked very much 

 to go away without a look into the 

 nest, nevertheless, I felt that it was 

 rather early for a full set of eggs. But 

 what if they should cut off the woods 

 before the next Saturday! Well, I 

 decided to take a chance so withdrew 

 and journeyed toward home. I saw 

 nothing of very great interest on my 

 return trip, but was well pleased with 

 the day's results. 



On the following Saturday after- 

 noon, March 28th, I loaded myself up 

 with climbing irons, collecting box, 

 hatchet and large strap and boarded 

 a car that took me within about a 

 mile of the woods. I hurried along up 

 the moutnain and through the woods 

 and in due time reached the nesting 

 site, put on my climbing irons, placed 

 the strap of my collecting box over 

 my shoulder and proceeded to climb 

 the tree. The bark was thick and cor- 

 rugated and it was slow, hard climb- 

 ing, but I stuck to it and soon had 

 about sixty feet of tree between me 

 and the ground. Did I find a cavity? 



Xo! The top of the tree was as solid 

 as the rock of Gibraltar. Well! I 

 was simply stung, and after I hugged 

 the tree long enough to recover from 

 the shock, I gazed around back of me 

 over to the big Ash tree, and there on 

 the upper side of a large limb, not 

 visible from the ground, was the real 

 nesting cavity of the birds, a couple 

 of fluffy feathers at the edge of the 

 hole told the story. I was disgusted, 

 came down the tree, rested and pond- 

 ered on how I would be able to reach 

 the nest. It was no use, the Ash was 

 a giant, about four feet in diameter 

 with thick brittle bark, too uncertain 

 and risky for me to climb with irons. 

 It was then late in the afternoon and 

 I was forced to give it up and return 

 home. I gave the problem consider- 

 able thought during the next few days 

 but was unable to ascertain just how 

 I could safely reach the nest. How- 

 ever, nearly a month later, on the 26th 

 of April, while hunting for Hawks' 

 nests in this same locality I made an- 

 other visit to the tree. I carefully 

 sized it up, and noted a limb about 8 

 inches in diameter that grew out over 

 a tall Hemlock tree which stood about 

 twelve feet from the Ash. If I could 

 get from the top of the Hemlock on to 

 that limb and work myself along to the 

 crotch of the Ash tree I would have no 

 further trouble in reaching the nest. 

 It was a ticklish job, but nevertheless 

 I did it, and reached the nest where 

 I found two pipped eggs just on the 

 verge of hatching. I carefully examin- 

 ed them, placed them back in the nest, 

 and covered the opening I had made 

 with a piece of loose bark. I then 

 proceeded to get back along the limb 

 to the Hemlock tree which required 

 all the coolness and nerve that I pos- 

 sessed but I felt that the satisfaction 

 of examining the nest and eggs re- 

 paid me for all my trouble. The bird 

 left the nest as soon as I reached the 



