164 LAND BIRDS 



these two, neither one grudging the other his fine catch, 

 and the more skilful the fishing the greater the admira- 

 tion for the fisher, be he man or bird. On bold, free 

 wings the Osprey comes swinging over the lake in the 

 cool of the morning, and his clear whistle gives you 

 "Good hunting" before he fairly comes into sight. 

 Down he dives with wings folded. There is a splash of 

 silver spray and he rises triumphant, with a fish held 

 lengthwise in his talons, and flies swiftly back to his 

 nest. It is quite likely to be in that tall tree across the 

 lake that has been his home for years. It is said that 

 each fall, before leaving it, he carefully repairs it with 

 fresh sticks, so that spring finds it ready for him. To 

 make it in the first place was an arduous task, for it is 

 a bulky platform of strong sticks, surmounted and inter- 

 woven with smaller ones and carefully lined with leaves, 

 moss, or soft vegetable fibre. Now the Osprey never 

 alights on the ground when it is possible to avoid doing 

 so ; his method of obtaining these sticks is similar, though 

 on a larger scale, to that by which the little chimney- 

 swift gets his, — that is, by breaking them from the tree. 

 But the Osprey does this with his feet, while the swift 

 uses his bill. The former swoops down upon a dead 

 twig with such force as to snap it ofi", sometimes with 

 a loud crack, and flies with it to the chosen nesting-site. 

 Some of these twigs are four feet long, and several efibrts 

 are necessary to break them. If he has the misfortune 

 to drop one en route, he will not pick it up again, but 

 with renewed energy will break off another. Hundreds 

 of these twigs must be brought to fashion his strong nest, 



