IN THE HEMLOCKS 45 
From those tall hemlocks proceeds a very fine 
insect-like warble, and occasionally I see a spray 
tremble, or catch the flit of a wing. J watch and 
watch till my head grows dizzy and my neck is in 
danger of permanent displacement, and still do not 
get a good view. Presently the bird darts, or, as 
it seems, falls down a few feet in pursuit of a fly 
or a moth, and I see the whole of it, but in the 
dim light am undecided. It is for such emergen- 
cies that I have brought my gun. A bird in the, 
hand is worth half a dozen in the bush, even for 
ornithological purposes; and no sure and rapid pro- 
gress can be made in the study without taking life,| 
without procuring specimens. This bird is a war-. 
bler, plainly enough, from his habits and manner ;| 
but what kind of warbler? ‘Look on him and name, 
him: a deep orange or flame-colored throat and 
breast; the same color showing also in a line over 
the eye and in his crown; back variegated black 
and white. The female is less marked and bril- 
liant. The orange-throated warbler would seem to 
be his right name, his characteristic cognomen; but 
no, he is doomed to wear the name of some discov- 
erer, perhaps the first who robbed his nest or rifled 
him of his mate, — Blackburn; hence Blackburnian 
warbler. The durn seems appropriate enough, for 
¢ 
in these dark evergreens his throat and breast show . 
like flame. He has a very fine warble, suggesting 
that of the redstart, but not especially musical. I 
find him in no other woods in this vicinity. 
I am attracted by another warble in the same 
oe 
