tHE OOLOGISf 



U 



as a Nuttall's dashes forth to drive 

 away his large relative. Lunch is 

 abandoned, — we make haste to pry 

 into the secrets of the stub. A few 

 minutes of vigorous chopping bring to 

 light four white glossy eggs with a 

 tinge of beautiful translucent pink. 

 We fish them out of their retreat and 

 pack them with our trophies. 



Lunch completed, we abandon the 

 willows and start through the oak belt 

 on the homeward road, pausing now 

 and then to drink in the beauty of 

 some particularly striking scene or to 

 identify our avian friends. 



Overhead soars a Turkey Vulture, 

 sweping round in ever-widening 

 circles. A straggling Heron flaps 

 away slowly from a clump of syca- 

 mores. Prom the nearby hill-side 

 comes a medley of voices, among 

 which we distinguish the chatter of 

 Jays, the bell-like trill of Wren-tits, 

 the lisping call of Luzuli Buntings, the 

 "pit-pit" of Towhees, and notes of 

 other brush-loving species. 



A handsome black-capped Pileated 

 Warbler causes us to waste some time 

 in search of his nest in a tangle of 

 blackberry vines, but without success. 

 We do, however, find a blackheaded 

 Grosbeak at home, her shabby bunch 

 of rootlets flung in a scrub-oak crotch. 

 She sits so close that we are forced 

 to poke her off the nest. The next 

 instant we regret the action, for she 

 flies into a perfect frenzy of rage, 

 making the hill ring with her out- 

 cries in which she is aided by a dozen 

 others. 



Fingers in ears we flee the scene 

 and make for the car-line. Just be- 

 fore we reach the station we glimpse 

 a small bird leaving a hole in a lone 

 stub, not four feet from the ground. 

 A few moments work with the hatchet 

 and we are gladdened by the sight of 

 five eggs of the Plain Tit lying in a 

 cozy bed of rabbit hair. This is only 



the second set of this species we ever 

 found, and naturally we are elated. 



Reluctantly we leave for the city, 

 speeded by the mocking laughter of 

 quail in the arroyos. But we are well 

 content, storing away in our minds 

 the day's event against a time when 

 more inelement weather shall keep 

 us indoors. 



D. I. Shepardson. 

 Los Angeles, Calif. 



Dreaming Over a Book. 



Have just been reading a volume by 

 John Burroughs entitled "The Ways 

 of Nature" in which the caption of 

 Mimicry, he makes two assertions 

 that do not agree with two little in- 

 cidents that have recently came under 

 my notice. 



First. He says as follows, "But if 

 the two Hawks look alike, would not 

 the birds come to regard them both 

 as bird-eaters, since one of them does 

 eat birds?" And a little later this: 

 "Birds are instinctively afraid of all 

 hawk kind." 



On October 15, 1916, I was watching 

 a small flock of ducks on a little open 

 pond at the edge of a large marsh. The 

 company consisted of five Baldpate 

 and one male Wood Duck. A Marsh 

 Hawk was atop of a button-bush a few 

 rods away. Suddenly he made a swoop 

 at the ducks almost brushing them 

 then up and to his lookout again. 

 They dodged a trifle and as soon as 

 the hawk was by, raised up and 

 flopped their wings. This little play 

 the part of the hawk was indulged in 

 at least half a dozen times. Only once 

 the dodging of their heads and the ris- 

 ing up and flapping of the wings after- 

 wards as tho in relief. The Hawk was 

 in pure play. The question is, did not 

 the ducks know the Marsh Hawk 

 harmless, and dodged only in uncon- 

 scious self-preservation because of the 

 swoop and afterwards relieved their 



