THE NIDOLOGIST 149 
ero 
aires Ss 
the Meadowlark hides from the sun, and the 
song birds at noon are mostly silent (sad- 
dened thet the merry love season is past, perhaps) 
I betook me to the hills in search of verdure— 
green vines and chapparel—some wistful remind- 
ers that might be of the beautiful spring, which 
had gone on regretfully but inevitably to cheer 
the myriad life on the other side of the earth. 
There was nothing to be seen or heard in ali the 
hills of California like the riotous exuberance of 
the songsters on a day in April. Hidden in 
a growth of brush and vines, over running water, 
a Thrush whistled low, a note full of questioning. 
A lonely Ground Wren, in some cool retreat, 
surprised me by uttering its sweet song, but it 
was not the loud, clear note of spring-time. 
Some Goldfinches there were that sang sweetly, 
and saucy California Jays could be heard occasion - 
ally screeching in the shrub oaks as usual, as 
though to declare that neither time nor seasons 
could alter their audacity. Then, also, a Spurred 
Towhee cried out querulously from a brush tangle 
where a dog had been delving for rabbits, and I 
strongly suspect that it had a second brood of 
young hidden somewhere in those vines and 
briers. 
Truly the wooded hills were a delight after 
coming from the confines of the tiresome city, 
but they were not as once they were; and as I 
made my way up a tiny canyon the wind blew in 
my ears a strange sort of sadness. I searched 
for a little brook through the ferns, but 
no water ran, and I thought, like the 
grass in the path, it was dead—killed by 
the sun’s intensity. 
Where do the bird dwellers in the 
woods go now to drink and bathe, ‘I 
queried? Just at that moment I heard 
a noise clear and regular—unmistak- 
ably it was water, dripping into an un- 
seen pool. What sound is more grate- 
ful and delightful to the ear of the 
thirsty! In one leap I was down on the 
gravelled floor of the miniature brook, 
its steep sides dense with ferns, weeds 
and vines, which formed almost a pro- 
tecting canopy of green. I stooped 
and peered, and there I beheld a most 
pleasant sight. 
An elfin waterfall, not tumultuous, but 
[_ ‘te in July, when the fields are brown, and 
. acluster ot auizk drops, formed a reservoir in a 
sylvan grotto. Here, indeed, was the birds’ 
water supply. My question was answered. 
Although I had discovered it by accident only, so 
well was it hidden, all the winged dwellers of the 
brush, I have no doubt, had known it long. 
Lying there, looking upward, I thought, as I 
have often thought, how the birds must enjoy the 
scenery of the corpses, the weeds and the ferns. 
It is easy to see from such a spot with the eves of 
the ground bird, pausing after his drink, perhaps, 
before he flies. The abrupt, creviced walls of the 
miniature river-bottom, with their clinging vines, 
transports he who gazes thus, to a land of unreal- 
ity, while shutting out the sky above, droops that 
stupendous forest of ferns. 
So it must appear to the Wood Warbler or the 
Wren, if they are sensible of such matters, and 
who is there that dare say that birds have not 
thoughts of their own? 
Alameda, Cal. 
H. R. TAYLOR. 
eee 
Killdeer Plover at Hartford. 
While out collecting June 6, 1896, I found a 
nest of the Killdeer containing four eggs, situated 
on a small hammock, with small bits of grass and 
moss for a nest lining. It was in a pasture near 
apond. The eggs are light drab color, thickly 
blotched with black and umber, and pyriform in 
shape. This is the first set taken near Hartford. 
I should judge by the size of the embryos that 
they were laid about May 20. The Killdeer is 
not at all a common bird near Hartford. 
CLIFFORD M, CASE. 
Hartford, Ct. 
+o 
A CORRECTION.—A typographical error in W. 
E. Sherrill’s article on the White-necked Raven in 
the last number gives the time of laying as between 
three and nine o’clock. These hours should be 
corrected to ‘‘between ezght and nine o’clock.”’ 
roe 
Woodcock on Nest. 
Through the courtesy of the ‘‘Maine Sportsman” 
we present the accompanying remarkable photo- 
graph to our readers. It is of the same class as 
the excellent picture from life of Grouse, Wood 
Pewees, and others which have been published in 
THE NIpoLociIsT, and as a snap shot of this partic- 
ular bird we are safe in saying that it is unique. 
