38 



THE OOLOGIST. 



and planned forays to neighboring 

 fields to gather their mixed stores of 

 cutworms and seed corn. 



Following the railroad the lowlands 

 were soon passed and densely wooded 

 hills rose on one side while on the other 

 a broad sweep of the Wabash brought 

 the river close to the track. At this 

 point I would leave the road and climb- 

 ing the sloping hill, over a litter of mis- 

 shapen, glazed bricks, the remains of 

 old Fort Knox, where, it is said, Zach- 

 ary Taylor once commanded, would 

 find myself in an open field, the clear- 

 ing of which dates back to the time of 

 the military possession. 



Fi'om this point Turkey Vultures 

 could always be seen, soaring in mag- 

 nificent curves and rarely deigning to 

 flap a wing, but using their broad pin- 

 ions mainly as sails to catch tbe fitful 

 currents of the upper air in a manner 

 which I could admire but not under- 

 stand. These birds could be seen here 

 all the year around, except now and 

 then a few very cold days in mid win- 

 tar. I had always thought that they 

 avoided the excessive cold by making 

 temporary visits to the South, but a 

 native gave me an entirely different 

 explanation of their disappearance say- 

 ing, "When the cold snaps comes they 

 jist scrooch down in holler trees an' 

 waits till' the clouds roll by !" 



Another constant resident of this 

 place was the Chewink, the little 

 "Ground Robin" that frequented the 

 blackberry bushes around the field, 

 running about on the ground and when 

 molested dodging among brush heaps, 

 hiding in thickets and taking flight with 

 extreme reluctance. 



The Black-capped Chickadee, the 

 bravest of the brave, also lived here, 

 nesting in such cavities in the stems 

 and branches as could be found near 

 the ground. Once when climbing the 

 fence of this field I was startled by a 

 Black- cap dashing herself against my 

 hand. She was defending her ces 



which was in a knot hole in one of the 

 rails. After that when passing that 

 spot I always paid her a visit and when 

 the half dozen little ones were fledged 

 and had gone out in the world to begin 

 their relentless warfare upon tent cat- 

 erpillars I examined the nest. The 

 fence rail was a large one and a rough 

 knot made it extremely thick at one 

 point. The knothole had been pecked 

 out and made considerably larger at 

 the bottom in a manner which seemed 

 to hint that the owner had received the 

 assistance of a Downy Woodpecker in 

 preparing her residence, or at least 

 that she had taken lessons of one. The 

 nest cavity was neatly lined with quail 

 feathers, rabbit hair and fine moss mat- 

 ted together like felt. Sometime in 

 June I was surprised to find that the 

 nest had been renewed and that the lit- 

 tle cavity was again the home of a fam- 

 ily of young Chickadees. 



Once when leaving the railroad I 

 found a fine Woodcock lying dead in 

 the ditch. It had flown against the tel- 

 egraph wires and broken its neck. The 

 Woodcock's beautiful eyes are too large 

 for bright sunshine and it often comes 

 to grief when flying in the daytime, but 

 it is safe enough at night, unless dazzled 

 by electric lights, and its migrations 

 are conducted under cover of darkness. 



In the low ground between the hills I 

 would often find the muddy banks of 

 the little creeks and pools pierced with 

 countless holes, as if some idle boy had 

 been amusing himself by thrusting a 

 switch into the ground. Sometimes I 

 would see how these mysterious holes 

 really were made. A Woodcock would 

 saunter along with dainty, mincing 

 gait, avoiding the water and stepping 

 gingerly on the mud and every few 

 steps probing deep into tee ocze with 

 his long beak, occasionally getting the 

 rewai'd of toil in the form of a fine 

 worm. Even when he pierced deepest 

 in the mud his fine eyes were safe and 

 watchful, being placed so high up in 



