THE OOLOGIST 



165 



camp, and such concerts as we did 

 have all day long every day. Robins 

 were not uncommon along the river, 

 and were abundant elsewhere. Blue- 

 birds were abundant everywrere, and 

 a source of delight to watch and listen 

 to. 



Although the list is rather small, I 

 feel that with a few more days on the 

 river we would have increased it 

 materially. 



Johnson Neff, 

 Marionville, Mo 



AUTUMN MIGRATIONS 



One October day, I saw an unusual 

 migration of Bluebirds, at least it 

 seemed unusual to me. I had been at- 

 tracted by the appearance of a Phoebe 

 in the grapevine trellis outside and 

 going to investigate, found other birds 

 gathering in the many maples around 

 our home, and also in the yellow wil- 

 lows bordering the brook. 



Those in the willows proved to be 

 Yellow Warblers and scattered around 

 in other places were more. This was 

 enough to excite my curiosity so I 

 walked carefully through the thick 

 carpet of newly fallen autumn leaves. 

 and searched the treetops for birds. 

 On a limb sat a Bluebird, its pink 

 breast could scarcely be distinguished 

 from the coloring of the leaves, and 

 in the road was another busily en- 

 gaged in threshing the life out of a 

 moth. 



Led on by these. I was guided across 

 the road to the orchard, where I found 

 many, many more. Suddenly up from 

 every tree and fence arose small 

 flocks of these Bluecoats all, seed- 

 filled and preened for a southward 

 flight. I stood in awe as I realized 

 the unusual number, and I began to 

 count as fast as I could, twenty, 

 twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, 



forty-five and fifty, and still they con- 

 gregated up there in the vastness of 

 sky spaces. The call of the leader, 

 which seemed to say "Come on, come 

 on!" had died away, and only tiny 

 black specks were visible to the eye, 

 and soon these vanished in a mist of 

 grey rain clouds. But while I stood 

 gazing, a few stragglers arose, slowly 

 flying, chirping plaintively, "Wait 

 for me-e-e ! " 



The stillness that followed was op- 

 pressive. I was almost breathless, as 

 I became conscious that I had seen 

 what T probably would never see 

 again. The fluttering of many wings, 

 the din of chirps and calls was gone, 

 only a memory remained. Then a 

 little black cricket chirped out from 

 beside a grey stone, and a lonely 

 Woodpecker stirred in the old apple- 

 tree, just to let me know that some- 

 thing was alive and breathing in that 

 awful silence. 



Our Bluebird. 

 God took a bit of heaven's blue. 



Set with the grey of morning skies. 

 And then He touched your breast a 

 hue 



He found amid His autumnal dyes. 

 Leda W. Chace, 

 Lawrenceville, Pa. 

 Tioga County. 



