234 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 
looked, a speck showed against the blue, which 
grew larger and larger, and into sight volplaned a 
Wilson snipe, the driven air whining and beating 
against its wings in little waves of music, and we had 
added to our collection of bird-music the famous 
wing-song of the Wilson snipe, even rarer than the 
strange flight-song of the woodcock. 
A little later one of my friends found our first 
olive-backed thrush’s nest, lined with porcupine- 
hair and black rootlets, and containing blue eggs 
blotched with brown. Just beyond the nest I heard 
what I thought was a gold-finch singing “Per- 
chickery, per-chickery.”” The song was so loud that 
I stopped to investigate, and to my delight found 
that the singer was a pine grosbeak, all rose-red 
against a dark green spruce. All around us magnifi- 
cent olive-sided flycatchers shouted from their tree- 
tops, “Hip! three cheers! Hip! three cheers!” and 
we heard the listless song of the beautiful Cape May 
warbler, with its yellow and black under-parts and 
orange-brown eye-patch and black crown. ‘“‘Zee, 
zee, zee, zip,” it sang, something like the song of 
the blackpoll warbler, but lacking the high, glassy, 
crystalline notes of that white-cheeked bird. 
I was responsible for the last bird-song which ap- 
pears on the lists of my three friends — but not on 
mine. We were to start back for civilization the next 
morning, and I was walking along the river-bank in 
the late twilight, while my more industrious and 
scientific companions were writing up their notes 
and compiling lists of everything seen and heard on 
