100 THE PETCHORA IN FLOOD 



which resulted in our finding two old ones. Whether 

 these were nests of the Siberian jay or of the pine-gros- 

 beak we could not, however, determine. Twice we heard 

 the note of the Siberian chiffchaff, but we could not see or 

 get a shot at the birds. 



The smart frost returned during the night. In the 

 morning, however, the wind veered round to the east, 

 and it was warm ; in the afternoon it was very hot. 

 Five hours hard walking through the woods in the early 

 morning resulted in nothing. I did not bring down a 

 single bird. My companion shot two blue-throated 

 warblers ; they had now grown as common as the willow- 

 warbler. The blue-throated warbler has been not inaptly 

 called the Swedish mocking-bird. Sometimes it is shy 

 and retiring, seeking food in the densest thickets and 

 bushes, haunting the marshy grounds sprinkled over 

 with small spruce fir, dwarf willows and juniper ; but 

 when newly arrived from its winter home, and beginning 

 to sing, it is an easy bird to see, and not difficult to shoot. 

 On its first arrival it often warbles in an undertone so 

 low that you fancy the sound must be muffled by the 

 thick tangle of branches in which you think the bird is 

 concealed, while all the time it is perched on high upon 

 the topmost spray of a young fir, this very conspicuousness 

 causing him to escape detection for the moment. His 

 first attempts at singing are harsh and grating, like the 

 notes of the sedge-warbler, or the still harsher ones of 

 the whitethroat ; these are followed by several variations 

 in a louder and rather more melodious tone, repeated 

 over and over again, somewhat in the fashion of a song- 

 thrush. After this you might fancy the little songster 

 was trying to mimic the various alarm-notes of all the 

 birds he can remember — the "chiz-zit" of the wagtail, 

 the "tip-tip-tip" of the blackbird, and especially the 



