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JOURNAL OF MAINE ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 



long tail drooping below the twig. As 

 we spy her she darts off through the 

 dense bushes and hides from our 

 view. Recrossing the wet run, we 

 pass on to a higher ridge, where the 

 bushes are taller. Chebec, Chebec, 

 falls upon our ears. A male Least 

 Flycatcher (Empidonax minimus) is 

 darting here and there, catching flies. 

 We hear the snap of his bill as he 

 catches a fly or some winged insect. 

 In the fork of a small maple, about 12 

 feet up, we spy Mrs. Empidonax set- 

 tled on a neatly woven nest, with 

 three creamy white eggs therein. She, 

 too, gazes at us with large wonder- 

 ing eyes. 



A Sharp Shinned Hawk (Accipiter 

 velox) dashes into this clump and Mr. 

 Least Flycatcher dodges off into the 

 dense foliage, barely escaping the 

 sharp talons of this dashing little 

 depredator. We now turn toward the 

 heavier wood, to cross again toward 

 the river, and at the edge of the 

 thick firs we are met with several fa- 

 miliar warbler songs. The Black- 

 Poll Warblers (Dendroica striata) are 

 gleaning among the trees of the taller 

 poplars. They are in full migra- 

 tion. In a few days only a straggling- 

 pair will remain, the bulk passing to 

 the northward to breed. 



A bright-colored Warbler dashes 

 past, closely chased by her mate. It 

 is the Black-Throated Green Warbler 

 (Dendrorica virens) and they disap- 

 pear into the thick spruce bushes. 

 The drawling song of the male is oc- 

 casionally heard. We feel quite posi- 

 tive that somewhere in the top of 

 some one of the many spruces or hem- 

 locks there is a dainty, cup-shaped 

 nest, neatly lined, containing four 

 eggs of this Warbler, nearly ready to 

 hatch. But after a careful search, we 

 give up the task and search among 

 the lower branches for the nest of the 

 Magnolia Warbler (Dendrorica macu- 

 losa). Ah, here it is! A neat nest. 



lined with black roots and hairs, sad- 

 dled on a spruce bough, about five 

 feet up, situated out two feet from 

 the trunk of the bush. Four hand- 

 some eggs, heavily wreathed abouT 

 the larger end. The dark appearance 

 of the shell, indicates they will hatch 

 in a few days. The female stays 

 nearby, watching us, keeping conceal- 

 ed in the thick foliage. Her mate 

 scolding not far off, we hear him say, 

 Wil-o-weechy, as he busily gleans 

 among the boughs for small insects, 

 so abundant there. As we pass 

 through the dense growth of spruce 

 and firs, we emerge into a spot more 

 open, yet a luxurious growth of young 

 poplars abound. Suddenly a small 

 bird darts from beneath our feet and 

 disappears, hardly giving us a chance 

 to catch sight of her. Carefully lay- 

 ing a hat where we flushed the bird, 

 we seek to catch sight of our bird. 

 We soon see a small bird, a Warbler 

 we feel certain, feeding leisurely, but 

 shyly, keeping from our sight most 

 of the time. We catch that dark 

 ring that circles low on the throat of 

 yellow, and now we know this is the 

 Canadian Warbler (Sylvania canaden- 

 sis). Returning to the hat, we care- 

 fully search among the dead leaves 

 and ferns and locate the nest, well 

 concealed by a clump of dead ferns. 

 Four eggs rest beautifully on the lin- 

 ing of pine needles. We congratulate 

 ourselves on this rare find. 



As we work our way through the 

 thick woods toward the river, we are 

 occasionally startled by a Hare (Lepus 

 americanus) scudding along through 

 the underbrush, quickly hiding from 

 our view. As we near a tall old 

 growth maple, containing an old. di- 

 lapidated hawk's nest, we are again 

 startled by a small bird running from 

 beneath our feet, disappearing among 

 the thick growth of ground dogwood, 

 now in full bloom. Carefully we 

 search for the nest. We discover an 



