144 '^ BIRD LAND. 



fervor and real passion in the vocal efforts of the 

 tawny musician. 



A little farther on, I again turned my steps into 

 a dense section of the woods. Suddenly there was 

 a twinkle of wings, a flash of olive-green, a sharp 

 Chip, and then there before me, a few rods away, 

 a little bird went hopping about on the ground, 

 picking up dainties from the brown leaves. What 

 could it be ? Was I about to find a species that 

 was new to me ? It really seemed so. My opera- 

 glass, when levelled upon the bird, revealed olive- 

 green upper parts, yellow or buff under parts, and 

 four black stripes on the head, two on the pileum 

 and one through each eye. It was the rare worm- 

 eating warbler {^Helmitherus vermivorus) at last, — a 

 bird that had for many years eluded me. The little 

 charmer was quite wary, chirping nervously while I 

 ogled him, — for it was a male, — and then hopped up 

 into a sapling, and finally scurried away out of sight. 



A few steps farther on in the woods an extremely 

 fine cat-like call swung down, like thread of sound, 

 from the tree-tops. Of course, it was my tiny 

 acquaintance the blue-gray gnat-catcher, and his 

 pretty spouse, who had arrived, perhaps from Cuba 

 or Guatemala, a few days before. What an immense 

 distance for their frail little wings to traverse, 

 "through tracts and provinces of sky"! You 

 seldom see anything more dainty and dream-Hke 

 than the fluttering of these birds from one tree-top 

 to another, reminding you of an animated cloudlet 

 hovering and darting about in mid-air. Not a more 



