The Hermit Thrush IOI 
imperfect attempts of a young bird. Later than that the Hermit Thrush 
seldom sings. 
It is to be regretted that so many of the young fail to mature. A record kept 
for five years, containing the history of fourteen nests and forty-seven eggs, 
shows that only nineteen fledglings left the nest. The offspring of twenty-eight 
birds were nineteen. My notes on Olive-backed Thrush and Robin show even 
more fatal data, as their nests are larger and most of them so badly exposed. I 
wish to emphasize the fact that these very beautiful, insectivorous birds lead 
a most precarious existence, having to contend not only with wild foes but with 
the ever-prevalent, half-fed cat. 
The Hermit Thrush usually nests in open spaces in an unfrequented wood, 
beside a wood-road or even a quiet street, and on the borders of pastures skirted 
by woodlands. The nest is placed, generally, under a low fir tree, occasionally 
under the tip of a long fir branch, rarely in a clump of ferns. A swamp appears 
to be a necessary concomitant. Seven nests were located in a knoll, two in a 
damp hollow, and six just above the swale in the dry earth of a hillside. In almost 
every case, the slight excavation for the foundation of the nest was made in the 
loam of a decayed log or stump. 
The nests are very much alike. The outside of the structure is composed 
of moss, dead wood, twigs and hay; it is lined with a small amount of black, 
hair-like fiber, and pine needles. Once or twice the foundation of the nest con- 
sisted of more than the ordinary amount of moss. At another time it was made 
almost entirely of sticks or twigs. Fourteen were lined with pine needles, one with 
the red fruit stems of bird wheat moss, and bird wheat moss. The proportions 
of all nests are about the same. The one constructed entirely of twigs was about 
a half-inch thicker at the top than the others. 
In two or three cases, I have found the Hermit Thrush very timid. Generally, 
the bird flies from the nest as a person approaches, or runs away over the leaves 
with head and tail drawn down, to appear less conspicuous, mounts a branch 
at a safe distance, regards one a few instants, while it slowly raises and lowers 
its tail, then glides from sight. One or two have been so tame that I have had to 
put my hand out, as if to touch them, to drive them from the nest. 
In 1907, beginning June 14, I found five nests, the last on July 1. Each 
clutch of this year contained three eggs. Hither the eggs or the young were 
destroyed in all these nests save one, and that, I believe, was the second nest of 
the bird that season. The fate of the other two nests was a great disappoint- 
ment. In the hope of finding one more, I entered the next pasture, and turned 
over each small fir carefully, to see if its fragrant branches, concealed one of 
the coveted abodes. Under almost the first fir, I saw a large beautifully made 
nest with the lining of the bottom and side torn out. Here was another defeat; 
but, behold! On the top of a knoll a few yards away was what appeared to be 
a freshly made nest. I concluded that these were both nests of the Hermit Thrush; 
that the first nest I found had been destroyed, that the bird went away a short 
