THE OOLOGIST. 



73 



nest was placed on the ground, lined 

 with fine grass and feathers, and con- 

 tained four beautiful white eggs, one 

 of which I preserved. I now arrived 

 home, and it is needless to state I was 

 tired and hungry, but I will never 

 regret the trip. The eggs were then 

 prepared for the cabinet. I was well 

 pleased with the results of my collect- 

 ing trip. I have collected many more 

 eggs but the above is the result of one 

 day's work. 



Joseph F. Honecker. 

 Oak Forest, Ind. 



Collecting in Northern Indiana. 



It was a lovely day, late in the month 

 of May, when our little party started 

 from home, going to one of the lakes 

 so common in this state. We carried 

 everything necessary for a week's 

 camping and collecting, and I may 

 add that in the end we were not dis- 

 appointed. 



The sun had not yet risen over the 

 eastern horizon, when we reached a 

 thick swamp, which however, was not 

 our destination. A good hour's wad- 

 ing and struggling with the rushes 

 and briers was still before us, and 

 streams, too, often intercepted us. 

 Therefore it was indeed gratifying 

 when we reached the spot selected for 

 our camp, and by the time the neces- 

 sary arrangements had been completed 

 it was noon. All agreed that it was 

 useless to start collecting that day as, 

 the heat was terrific and birds were all 

 quite, with the possible exception of 

 some Bob-white which would occa- 

 sionally send out its clear musical 

 note across some distant meadow. 



The next morning everyone was astir 

 early, and anxious for the start. By 

 the time the sun rose, we had left 

 camp several miles behind, directing 

 our way toward a rather large lake 

 which was situated near the center of 

 the swamp, and was known for the 



large flocks of Shovelers that yearly 

 nested there. Birds were already 

 flitting from tree to tree, flowers bloom- 

 ing in greatest profusion everywhere, 

 and in short everything was as beauti- 

 ful as nature alone can make it ; we 

 too were in the best of moods, proceed- 

 ing gaily, when a whirl of wings 

 directly in our path startled us, but as 

 it is only a stray Bob-white, let it 

 alone. Alas ! a shot from someone 

 had already brought the bird fluttering 

 to the ground, where a short search 

 among the weeds revealed the victim. 

 But what a strange Quail, why, it is 

 no Quail, but a Wood-cock, and what 

 a large, fine specimen at that, of the 

 bird that will so soon be unknown. A 

 nest must be near, and all instinct- 

 ively turn to a small clump of willows, 

 where the nest is sure to be found. 

 But what is our disappointment when 

 a half hour's search reveals nothing, 

 and we must proceed. We hope for 

 better luck later, however. 



The sun was shining brightly when 

 we reached the lake, and all were eager 

 to embark, and search thegrassy islets 

 and shores for the treasures they are 

 sure to contain. Small dark spots are 

 dimly visible along the distant shores, 

 which our glasses reveal to be Ducks. 

 But we are aware of the Shovelers 

 habits. No nests are to be found 

 there. Therefore we must proceed 

 directly to the small islets, and this we 

 do. A few late Martins (Bank Swal- 

 lows) are still skimming over the 

 water, and a solitary Heron can be 

 seen fishing on the distant shore. 

 Killdeers can be faintly heard from all 

 sides, but can not be seen, so we must 

 imagine them running along the 

 shore, feeding on the small molloscs 

 and crabs abounding. But the islets 

 are already reached, and how eagerly 

 does everyone search every tuft of 

 rushes and weeds passed. What was 

 it that so silently dropped into the 

 water a few yards ahead. And with 



