trunks, and around stumps, sometimes 

 head up, and sometimes head down, the 

 nuthatch peered and probed in every 

 crack and cranny. Up on the dead 

 branches of the oaks and hickories the 

 woodpeckers were busy prospecting, 

 driving their shafts deep into the heart 

 of the Hmbs, and Uttering the ground un- 

 derneath with chips in their search for 

 hidden insects. Far up in the sky their 

 blackness moving shadows, the crows in 

 twos and threes and dozens were wing- 

 ing their way from the north to their 

 feeding ground, while up and down and 



around the trees the fox squirrels were 

 gamboling in reckless glee, and a belated 

 rabbit hopped past, making a rustling 

 amid the dead leaves as he sought shelter 

 in a tuft of grass for the day. From the 

 surrounding farmsteads came the lowing 

 of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep, 

 the vociferous calling of the swine and 

 the crowing of the fowls, and what but 

 a few moments before seemed a part of 

 eternal silence became a discordant 

 clamor of life and bustle, and I turned 

 reluctant feet from out the forest shade. 



L. O. MOSHER. 



A NESTING INCIDENT. 



That the bird-world has its turbula- 

 tions and criminal troubles as well as 

 the human, was especially suggested to 

 me on May 22. A pair of robins had a 

 nest with three young against the trunk 

 of an oak, resting on a strong branch 

 about six feet up. The female, after 

 flying from the nest at my approach, set 

 up a series of ''clucks" that at once be- 

 trayed her secret. Soon the male arrived 

 and courageously dashed at me, only to 

 turn aside and join the female in her 

 cries of parental agony. Several min- 

 utes' passed thus, the cries of the robins 

 breaking the peace of the little valley. 

 Confident that this unusual noise would 

 soon bear fruit by attracting birds that 

 were nesting in the vicinity, I stood near 

 the nest and waited. As if by magic, 

 a beautiful black and orange Baltimore 

 oriole appeared in the branches of the 

 oak. I stood admiring him as he flashed 

 in the sunlight. Suddenly — just as sud- 

 denly as the other appeared — ^who 

 should, alight on the same branch, but a 

 scarlet tanager! I stood in wonder- 

 ment: a Baltimore oriole and a scarlet 

 tanager within two yards of each other 

 and I within four yards of both ! Sure- 

 ly nothing in the bird-world can equal 

 this couple for brilliancy. The scarlet 

 tanager soon disappeared, apparently 

 satisfied witli appearances, but bhishing 



fearfully at his inquisitiveness, and the 

 oriole dashed away to attend to his own 

 household duties. A red-eyed vireo 

 with a catbird-like cry flew into the 

 tiee, and hopping about, loudly ex- 

 claimed his disapproval. A chipping 

 sparrow joined him. Then a wood 

 thrush whose nest I knew was close by, 

 for I had already seen it, with his usual 

 dignity came to a nearby tree. Last but 

 not least (as he plainly expressed) came 

 a bronzed grackle who, with a discord- 

 ant cry, dashed into the tree to the con- 

 sternation of all the rest. The male 

 robin at once attacked him, but the 

 grackle with a cackle of disdain would 

 not budge. Thereupon the robin drew 

 back and discussed the situation with his 

 despairing mate. The grackle then flew 

 to the tree from which the wood thrush 

 had been quietly viewing all. He 

 screamed in despair as the notorious 

 nest-robber approached the priceless 

 brood; but lacking the innate courage 

 of his more powerful cousin, dared not 

 bar the way. 



Suddenly the whole group seemed to 

 become aware of my presence. The 

 grackle was the first to go and the rest 

 disappeared in a twinkling — save the 

 wood thrush and robins, whose excite- 

 ment gradually subsided. 



Norman O. Foerster. 



