122 WOOD NOTES AND NEST HUNTING. 



hiding-places for those kinds of birds whose in- 

 stincts have taught them to build their nests away 

 from their cannibal relations, the crows and jays. 

 As I stand before this barricade of sharp thorns, 

 looking down the long line of glistening young 

 leaves, I catch a few sharp notes that are thrown 

 down to me from a little minstrel perched in the 

 branch of a small oak near by. Stichrer-stich-er, 

 stich-er-Jcerchief, it seems to say, the music being 

 violently shaken from its throat, as if a certain 

 quantity must be disposed of before the season 

 ends. 



This is the chestnut-sided warbler (^Dendroeca 

 Pennsylvanica), and evidently his home is con- 

 cealed close by in the bushes, for he appears ill 

 at ease, notwithstanding his song; elevating his 

 tail and dropping his wings so that they almost 

 touch the branch. It is curious to watch his 

 movements. He is not at all acute in leading you 

 from his nest, and if he resorts to any trickery it 

 is most awkwardly performed ; while many of the 

 sharper birds have a way of dropping suddenly 

 from their flight, and fluttering into the bushes 

 like butterflies, a distance from their nests, and 

 skulking up to them unobserved, the chestnut- 

 sided descends directly to the spot, telling you 



