DELAWARE VALLEY ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB. 35 



Perhaps some would be off before the morrow, the Magnolias 

 and Canadians and Redstarts most likely. The night before I 

 had heard in the clear starlight before the moon rose many war- 

 bler notes from low-passing southing birds. 



It must have been a migration in little, I think ; perhaps only 

 the going-down of the Redstarts and Canadians to the lower 

 valley of Broadhead's Creek, as I had found was the self-dis- 

 posal of the Great-crests that had all disappeared by July 15, 

 but which I found in plenty two weeks later down the valley, 

 where Stony Creek joins the larger stream. I think it was a 

 warbler migration in little because on m}^ walk over the same 

 ground the next morning, August 7, I saw only Black and White 

 Creepers and Black-throated Blues and heard no warbler songs 

 but theirs. 



On the eve of our leaving I heard no Wood Robins or when, 

 on August 8, I got back to the Wissahickon home, but the 

 uight before we left I heard Hermit Thrushes as full-voiced 

 and eager to sing as in June. I went up the observatory on Buck 

 Hill for a last look over the uplands, without thought of the 

 thrushes, for I had never heard them there. It was halfpast seven 

 when I reached the observatory. I sat there watching the mists 

 and the oncoming night blotting out the hills. The Blue Moun- 

 tain was but discernible, nothing more. The valley fog was 

 rising from all the streams, although the country was very dry, 

 suffering indeed from a great drought. High Knob in Pike 

 County was fading away toward the northeast. Not a bird 

 called until, just after I had taken in these details of the land- 

 scape all around, a distant tinkle of thrush music rang far off 

 across the scrub. The singer came nearer and nearer, until I 

 could see him as he sang from the dead top of a chestnut close 

 by. Others joined in the song to the departing day, one by 

 one, until three more were in hearing, but none of them was as 

 this bird, full- voiced, — less metallic than is wont to be the 

 Hermit's song, with his notes as fresh as if he had just come 

 home. During his singing a Flicker rattled out his spring song 

 and a Chewink called good-night, but the Thrush had the last 

 word, silver-voiced and lonely. 



