146 IN BIRD LAND. 



the song for fully an hour, I could not well have 

 been mistaken. Several times the reproduction of 

 the goldfinch's song was so perfect that I looked 

 the tree all over again and again with my glass for 

 that bird, but goldfinches there were none about. 

 Moreover, the gnat-catcher was in plain sight, 

 dropping quite low in the tree part of the time ; and 

 there can be no doubt that every strain proceeded 

 from his lyrical little throat. 



The forenoon and part of the afternoon slipped 

 away all too rapidly, bringing many valuable additions 

 to my stock of bird lore ; but I must pass others 

 by to describe the most important " find " (to me) 

 of this red-letter day in my experience. At about 

 half-past four o'clock I reached an old bush-covered 

 gravel-bank where many birds of various species 

 have been encountered. As I stepped near a pool 

 at the foot of the bank, a little bird flashed into 

 view, setting my pulses all a-flutter. It was the 

 hooded warbler, the first of the species I had ever 

 seen. He was recognizable at once by the bright 

 yellow hood he wore, bordered all around with deep 

 black. A bright, flitting blossom of the bird world ! 



For fully an hour I lingered in that " embowered 

 solitude," watching the bird's quaint behavior, which 

 deserves more than a mere passing notice. He was 

 not in the least shy or nervous, but seemed rather 

 to court my presence. Almost every moment was 

 spent in capturing insects on the wing or in sitting 

 on a perch watching for them to flash into view. 

 Like a genuine flycatcher, as soon as a buzzing insect 



