THE MARSH DWELLERS 169 
When I was a couple of yards away from the weed- 
stalk, up sprang the female bobolink, apparently 
from almost the very spot I had noted. This was 
encouraging; it showed that she had not run through 
the grass any distance this time, either when flushed 
or when alighting. Almost immediately the truant 
father bird appeared and sang gayly near me, occa- 
sionally diving mysteriously and impressively into the 
grass in different places, as if visiting a nest. I was 
not to be distracted by any such tactics, but threw 
my hat to the exact spot from which, as I judged, 
the female had started. With this as a centre I 
pushed back the long grass and began to search 
the area of a five-foot circle, first looking hurriedly 
under the hat to make sure that it had not covered 
the nest. My search was all in vain, although it 
seemed to me that I examined every square inch 
of that circle. At last I decided that the sly birds 
had again deceived me. Taking up my hat, I was 
about to begin another watch, when, in the very spot 
where the hat had lain, I noticed that the long leaves 
of a narrow-leafed plantain at one place had been 
parted, showing a hole underneath. I carefully 
separated the leaves, and before me lay the long- 
desired nest. It was only a shallow hollow under the 
leaves, lined with fine dry grass and containing four 
dark eggs heavily blotched and marbled with red- 
brown. 
It is probable that ordinarily, when the mother 
bird left the nest, she would arrange the leaves so 
as entirely to cover the hole beneath. If this were 
