56 



Bird- Lore 



upon the wind that sweet fluting unheard for many years. Astounded 

 at the bird's persistence, I counted the notes. Seven hundred, without 

 a break, I counted, and then gave it up. There were about two notes 

 per second, with occasional bursts at half the interval. (Explanation of 

 this came later. ) The few irregular intervals of silence would not exceed 

 three seconds' duration. 



By noting the source of the night -song from two directions I located 

 the spot so nearly that when, on the morning of May 5, at dawn, I scoured 

 the place, I readily located the elm stub in which the nest was hidden. 

 This old tree stood beside the bank of the creek, a little remote, in the midst 



YOUNG SAW-WHETS 



of many large elms. Twelve feet up was the opening of the Flicker-made 

 cavity. From this, at my very first rap, the Saw-whet's head protruded. 

 As I climbed, she, having disappeared within, came out again and flew fif- 

 teen feet away to a dead branch, where she sat long in utter silence. The 

 hollow was sixteen inches deep. It was well filled with bark strippings, 

 placed there by red squirrels. Well jumbled together in this mass were 

 seven eggs, whose incubation varied from nothing to well -formed small 

 embryos, a headless meadow -mouse and many contour feathers of the Pine 

 Grosbeak, with flight -feathers and tail feathers of Juncos, Warblers and 

 other small birds. Many of these feathers were stuck into bark crevices, 

 and the habitance of the stub seemed to have covered a number of years. 

 A few pellets lay at the base of the tree. This pair of birds I never found 

 again. 



