Song Birds and Water Fowl 



this particular point their direction was from 

 east to west, they were pursuing such a course 

 as migrants at this season would adopt in mov- 

 ing southward along the coast. 



Near the light -house I saw my first osprey, 

 or fish hawk (I call him mine, by that divine 

 license that gives to every naturalist a sense of 

 owning everything that comes within his view). 

 On the blasted relic of a tree, as dead as though 

 drowned in the Flood and standing ever since, 

 in which was a huge, coarse nest that may have 

 been his, he was breakfasting on his usual diet. 

 He seemed loath to be disturbed at his repast, 

 and allowed me to approach him nearer than 

 he would otherwise have done ; but at last, fear- 

 ful that there might be powder behind my eyes, 

 he seized the fish in his talons, and, with a 

 majestic flight that fully concealed his fear, 

 sailed away. This splendid hawk is recogniz- 

 able among other species both by its great 

 size — being two feet long, with an immense 

 spread of wing — and by the fact that the head 

 and neck are largely white, as is the entire 

 under side of the body. The tree, nest and 

 bird were a most harmonious picture, and pleas- 

 ing to any one who likes a dash of cold severity 

 in scenery now and then. I am almost ashamed 

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