THE NIDOLOGIST 7 
FIG. 2. 
notes of the Chetnra pelagica. Suddenly 
these chattering noises are interrupted by 
loud ‘‘chirps’’ or ‘‘cheeps,” like those of a 
Canary, uttered in quick succession. 
The bird flew in almost a circle, slowly 
descending to the ground again. 
It seemed to have great powers of ventril- 
oquism (or else the damp air caused a mis- 
leading influence in determining its position 
by hearing), for the notes appeared to come 
out of the tree—near which I stood—but 
every twig was visible and no bird was to 
be seen, and as I had lost sight of it in its 
flight I knew not where it could be. 
The notes grew louder and louder. I was 
positive the bird was in the tree. But it 
was not, for I was still gazing upward, 
above and partially through it. I was 
puzzled. 
The bird was certainly coming nearer, for 
the notes continued to grow louder until I 
almost imagined it would end by lighting 
on my head. 
But the misleading notes did not end here. 
The noise ceased for a moment, then a 
sharp and harsh, grating ‘‘cheep” came 
froma point in the field about eighty or one 
hundred feet distant. 
I was vexed the first time this occurred, 
but realized that either the bird was deceiv- 
ing me or the air had a hand in the decev- 
tion. 
The loud hoarse call was repeated at 
WATER OUZEL’S NEST (1896) 
intervals, and I could easily determine its 
position. A few moments later it again 
took wing, and the chattering began, broken 
in upon occasionally by the chirping, until 
it again seemed almost upon me. Then a 
repetition of the intervals of silence, and 
once more the harsh, tell-tale ‘‘cheep’’ from 
the field. 
On one occasion, while gazing up, the 
bird flew directly over my head only about 
thirty feet above; his voice had so bewil- 
dered me that I could not ascertain his 
whereabouts until I saw him sail smoothly 
over. 
Whether the dampness, the clear, moist 
air, or the bird itself caused this ventriloquial 
effect Ido not know, butI rather favor the 
latter supposition. 
As the season advances this herald of 
spring becomes more musical and utters 
songs resembling the syllables: ‘‘He—to— 
weedle’’ and ‘‘“Toodle—te, to—ou.’’ This 
last note he often shortens to a loud, liquid 
‘*Toodle—te.’’ Anu if you observe closely 
you will occasionally hear his ‘‘twilight 
song,” although March is the best time for 
that. 
Although I have never collected any 
eggs of this species, I am sure it breeds 
here, as the latitude is favorable and I have 
seen old birds carrying food. 
The Meadowlark is found commonly 
hereabouts from its arrival until the middle 
