278 Twelve Months With 



reached down into the dark hole the full length of 

 my arm, and touched — nothing. I had no means 

 with me of making an artificial light, and I was 

 therefore unable to discern anything in the deep 

 shadows of the cavity, or determine how far down 

 below the top of the stub the nest was located. I 

 therefore descended some three or four feet ham- 

 mering on the outside as I went to locate by the 

 deadened sound the bottom of the cavity where I 

 might expect to find the nest. Having settled upon 

 the spot with as much certainty as possible under 

 the circumstances I chopped a hole through the 

 hard, dead trunk, a laborious task, only to find that 

 I was immediately below the nest. I was therefore 

 compelled to move up about twelve inches, and cut 

 another hole, but I was finally rewarded by secur- 

 ing a set of two fine eggs, beautifully mottled with 

 heavy dark brown and purple markings. This set 

 of eggs was taken in 1889 in Northeastern Indiana, 

 at about the latitude of Chicago, and I know of no 

 recent record of this bird nesting in this latitude. 



The buzzards are larger than the largest hawks, 

 having a wing spread of at least four feet. They 

 are not beautiful in plumage, and their bloody 

 scavenger habits sometimes makes them appear 

 repulsive. In bearing and flight, however, they 

 are noble birds, and when on outstretched, immove- 

 able wings they soar far overhead in graceful 

 circles, they are inspiring pictures of grace and 

 majesty. 



