THE TREASURE-HUNT 137 
The Band felt that they could bear nothing further 
in the story line after this anecdote, and the Treasure 
having gone the way of all treasures, the march 
back was begun. It was the Captain who, on this 
homeward trip, discovered another treasure. They 
were passing a marshy swale of land, where a little 
stream trickled through a tangle of trees. From out 
of the thicket came an unknown bird-call. “Pip, 
pip, pip,” it sounded. As they peered among the 
bushes, on a low branch the Captain saw six strange 
birds, all gold and white and black, with thick, white 
bills. Never had the Band seen him so excited before. 
He told them that the strangers were none other 
than a company of the rare evening grosbeaks, 
which had come down from the far Northwest, 
which had never before been reported in that 
county, and which few bird-students ever meet in 
a whole lifetime, although he had found a flock in 
New Jersey a few months before. For long the Band 
stood and watched them. They flew down on the 
ground and began feeding on cherry-pits, cracking 
the stones in their great bills. At times they would 
fly up into a tree and sidle along the limbs like little 
parrots. The females had mottled black-and-white 
wings and gray backs and breasts, while the males 
had golden breasts and backs, with wings half velvet- 
black and half ivory-white. 
For a long time they all watched the birds and 
made notes, until the dimming light warned them 
that it was time to be on their way. In the twilight 
the hylas called across the marshes, and from upland 
