DELAWARE VALLEY ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB. 23 



presence of the village. As we approached the closer, our atten- 

 tion was attracted to the dead forest at the head of the pond. 

 With the damming of the waters below thousands of trees had 

 come to be sacrificed through inundation. To-day these stand 

 as silent sentinels, branchless and with bleached boles. In 

 holes along this stumpage the Tree Swallows are nesting, while 

 associated with them in their erratic flights up and across the 

 broad expanse are countless Barn and Bank Swallows. 



We selected a camping-place well up the pond, since we had 

 learned the fascination of seclusion. Afterward we paddled to 

 the village to replenish our larder. Here, couched at one corner 

 of the broad, tranquil pond we found a town virtually falling 

 to pieces. Everything was in decay, even the provisions ob- 

 tained from the sleepy storekeeper. These, too, showed the 

 ravages of time. 



Out of the heat and beauty of the day a night of bitter cold 

 closed in. Even the Whip-poor-wills were silent. They, too, 

 had nestled down. Next morning, hopeful for a good bird 

 count, we made an early start from camp, paddled up the pond 

 to list the swallows, observed the Sandpipers teetering along the 

 shore, and explored the orchards and gardens of the village be- 

 fore the villagers were about. Here were found such open- 

 country species as the Bluebird, Field and Chipping Sparrow. 

 Here also was observed a gorgeous Oriole intent on his morning 

 meal, stopping at times to sound his loud whistled melody. 

 Later we carried our canoe around the dam and launched it in 

 the swift current below. Where before the pines and huckle- 

 berries had been conspicuous, here the deciduous trees and the 

 laurel held first rank. Here, too, in the lofty trees we first 

 heard the migrant Chestnut- sided Warblers. 



Jostled along by the swift current, no slight skill was neces- 

 sary to keep the canoe within its course. Sour gum and birch 

 spray overarched the stream, making it a veritable trellised 

 waterway. Later "Dead River," a peculiarly landlocked bay, 

 was passed, only to paddle out into the meadows of Lake Len- 

 ape, in character a counterpart of those of Weymouth Pond. 

 The lake along its western boundaries is bordered with high 

 wooded banks, affording nesting sites for Bank Swallows. At 



