July, 1919 A SHORT PAPER ON THE HUTTON VIREO 165 
is a large field for the economic ornithologist. For instance, during the two 
weeks of feeding the young birds in the nest, some seventy to eighty miilions of 
insects must be consumed by these vireos in this county alone, if the parents 
only work union hours and eat nothing themselves. 
The nest is kept scrupulously clean by the parent birds during the period 
of incubation and later during the time the young birds are in the nest; and as 
the nest is strongly anchored to green wood and deeply cupped the danger of 
accident or disease is reduced to a minimum. The nests are invariably so well 
concealed that a marauding jay or squirrel has little chance of discovering it, 
unless by accident. In fact I have never found but one raided nest. After the 
first egg is laid it would be hard to drive the birds from the nest; but one’s 
observations during building operations should be most discreet as the birds 
will surely desert if they suspect an intruder. 
The Hutton Vireo can well be called one of the quietest of our native birds ; 
for, although fairly common in country acceptable to him, his habits and dress 
combine to make him very little known to the average bird hunter. Therefore 
I have attempted in this paper to throw a little hght on his home and surround- 
Ings. 
Santa Rosa, Califorma, March 25, 1919. 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 
By HENRY WETHERBEE HENSHAW 
(Continued from page 107) 
TRIP TO LOUISIANA 
N 1869, a few months before the examination for Harvard, my health gave 
away, as indeed it had done several times before with loss of school time, 
and I postponed for the time entering college. In the fall of the year I was 
made happy by receiving an invitation from Captain Frank Webber to spend 
the winter in Louisiana on board the Coast Survey schooner ‘‘Varina’’. I 
sailed from Boston for New Orleans early in December, and had my first ex- 
perience of a real gale at sea when off Cape Hatteras where I lost, among other 
things, four days out of the calendar. None the worse for my experience of 
one of Neptune’s moods, I reached New Orleans in due time, and passed the 
next ten days or so in that delightful southern city. Embarking on the ‘*‘ Vari- 
na’’ about the middle of the month, we tacked leisurely down the broad ex- 
panse of the Father of Waters till we were in the Pass 4 Loutre, one of the five 
passes through which the muddy waters of the giant stream find their way into 
the Gulf, when about noon, when visions of lunch were uppermost in my mind, 
we ran upon a hidden snag, which stove a big hole in the schooner’s bottom. 
Hasty efforts to plug the break proving unavailing, the vessel was run ashore 
and abandoned, though not until all our effects and the ship’s stores were land- 
ed in the boats and the little steam launch. We found cordial weleome and 
shelter in a small fishing settlement on the banks of the pass, and I remember 
