304 



LAND BIRDS 



earth drinks eagerly. His song ended, he floats down 

 again, alighting with the easy grace of a mocker, and is 

 at rest all but his quivering wings. He seems to squat 

 rather than perch and is happiest when flying. 



It was rare good luck that showed me the only Soli- 

 taire's nest I ever found. A rolling stone and a mis- 

 step landed me flat on my back directly 

 in front of it and within a foot of the 

 water's edge. At first I did not realize 

 my good fortune, because I 

 did not recognize the nest 

 or the young. It was a 

 bulky affair, under a huge 

 boulder which lay in such a 

 position that only two inches 

 intervened between the earth 

 and the overhanging stone ; 

 and in this low-roofed crev- 

 ice the Solitaire had gath- 

 ered more than a quart of 

 grass, weed stems, shredded 

 bark, pine needles, rootlets, 

 and dead leaves. These 

 seemed to lie in a thick mat as if driven there by the 

 wind, and, but for the hasty exit of a bird, I should 

 never have looked at them. 



Examination revealed a foundation of larger weed 

 stems and a neatly moulded inner nest. In it were five 

 feathered nestlings. They were much browner in tone 

 than the adults and were beautifully mottled on the 



754. TOWNSBND 

 SOLITAIUE. 



" Remained there singing 

 when the shadows of evening 

 closed over the scene." 



