78 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



crows, warblers, thrushes and the like, but no osprey. While I was 

 hunting for the nest, one of the Ospreys spied me and gave his call of 

 danger. With his help I finally found the nest, and the birds near by. 



Soon I saw a violent thunder storm coming up, so I thought best to 

 be starting back. I had not gone out of sight of the nest before it be- 

 gan to rain harder than I had seen it that day. It thundered and light- 

 ened also, so I stood under some thick hemlocks, thinking they would 

 keep me dry until the shower was over. It did not, however, prove to 

 be a shower, but a heavy storm. In ten minutes the trees began to 

 let the water drip down my neck, so I decided to go home as fast as I 

 could and risk a ducking. I risked my ducking and got it without any 

 doubt. Like a spring, in the months when water is plenty, the water 

 was running out of my boots every step I took all the way home. I 

 shall always remember that funny walk home, with the water just run- 

 ning off of me. 



My third visit found the mother Osprey on the nest, though the nest 

 was so large and at such a height I could not see her. The mate was 

 soaring around, uttering his danger calls, and telling me to go away 

 from his treasures, but, as I would not go, he tried in vain to chase me 

 away by making believe pounce upon me. This was an old trick of 

 his so it did not bother me in the least. He would rise high in the air 

 and remain still, flapping his wings as fast as he could make them go, 

 while he screamed as loud as he could scream. He no doubt thought 

 I must be a queer kind of thing not to be afraid of him when he was 

 doing such alarming things. 



When the father Osprey flew back of a hill where I was standing to 

 rest, I crawled into some thick underbrush and concealed myself as 

 best I could, hoping to see the Ospreys feed their nestlings. I knew 

 he must have some little ones by the way he tried to frighten me away 

 from his nest. I lay perfectly quiet to see what the Ospreys would do. 

 The father Osprey did not hear me walking around, so he concluded I 

 must have gone away, after circling around to see if he could see any 

 traces of me, he gradually stopped his screaming, and sat down on the 

 top of the hemlock tree near the nest to rest himself and guard his 

 mate and little ones. He was a beautiful sight as he sat there so near 

 me. All the time he stayed there he was uttering some quiet notes 

 which I could not understand, but which his mate very likely did. Mr. 

 Osprey had not been on the tree long, before a head peeked over the 

 top of the nest. I thought it might be a young bird so kept very 

 quiet, but as it slowly rose, Mrs. Osprey soon stood on the top of the 

 nest. After looking around, she slowly flapped her wings and flew 

 away. As I was anxious to know where she went and what she would 



