Vol. XX 



2?irb=1Lore 



A BI-MONTHLY MAGAZINE 



DEVOTED TO THE STUDY AND PROTECTION OF BIRDS 



Official Organ of The Audupon Societies 



September— October, 1918 



No. 5 



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The Oven-bird in Minneso^ ^ 



By THOMAS S. ROBERTS, M.D., Minneapol^ ^ ^ / O 



With photographs by the Author ^k^'V'/ 



SOME years ago, while strolling quietly, on the last day of September, by 

 a long since abandoned and overgrown wood-road that skirted one of 

 the back bays of beautiful Lake Minnetonka, I startled from the path a 

 small, dull-colored bird. It flitted silently to a tangle of fallen branches not 

 far distant in the thick underbrush. Following carefully, and peering intently, 

 glass in hand, I soon discovered the unknown, creeping cautiously away. Its 

 prettily banded head and its dainty, mincing walk disclosed at once its identity. 

 Carefully it went over the soft, new-fallen leaves, availing itself now and then 

 of a half-buried log or branch as a convenient pathway, until, believing itself 

 concealed behind a little tuft of faded ferns and twigs, it paused, ever eyeing 

 me intently through the netlike interstices of the tangled growth that inter- 

 vened between us. Without the glasses it was entirely invisible, but with their 

 aid the suspicious little eye, with its lighter setting, revealed the whereabouts 

 of its always anxious owner. Thus we stood for some time, silently studying 

 each other. Goldencrown wearied first, or, becoming reassured, resumed his 

 pretty walk, this time more openly and rapidly, until at last he took wing and, 

 by short flights from bush to bush, passed out of sight and away from the fancied 

 danger. His crown was bright and his plumage fresh, suggestive of springtime, 

 but the fall woods, with their eddying leaves and odor of decay, were silent and, 

 despite his presence in their midst, no longer reverberated with his ringing 

 crescendo or knew his wonderful flight-song. These fading woods and shorten- 

 ing days and chilling winds that make life hard and dangerous, warn him that 

 it is time to hie himself away to that far southern home where, with spirit 

 tamed and pipe not attuned, he awaits in silence fresh promptings to begin 

 life anew. When the warmer suns and softer winds of the late vernal season 

 have again made green and joyous and fragrant the wooded hillsides in the 

 Northland, he will come once more with quickened pulse and swelling breast 

 and instinct wild that will send him madly chasing in hot pursuit amid the 



