THe Lay of the Band 
each side of the butt, where it lay high and dry above 
the level of the swamp. This the swamp birds had 
turned into a great dust-bath. It was in constant use, 
surely, for nota spear of grass had sprouted in it, and 
all over it were pits and craters of various sizes, show- 
ing that not only the partridges, but also the quails, 
and such small things as the warblers, washed here, — 
though I can’t recall ever having seen a warbler bathe 
in the dust. A dry bath in the swamp was something 
of a luxury, evidently. I wonder if the buzzards used 
it? 
I went forward cautiously now, and expectantly, for 
I was close enough to see the white beak and red wat- 
tled neck of my guide. It saw me, too, and began to 
twist its head as I shifted, and to twitch its wing tips 
nervously. Suddenly its long, black wings opened, 
and with a heavy lurch that left the stub rocking, 
it dropped and was soon soaring high up in the 
blue. 
This was the right locality; now where should I 
" find the nest? Apparently I was to have no further 
help from the old bird. The underbrush was so thick 
that I could see hardly farther than my nose. A half- 
rotten tree trunk lay near, the top end resting across 
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