RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. Ill 



I have not succeeded in finding its nest. On the 27th. 

 of June, 1833, while some of my party and myself 

 were rambling over the deserts of Labrador, the notes 

 of a Warbler came on my ear, and I listened with 

 delight to the harmonious sounds which filled the air 

 around, and which I judged to belong to a species 

 not yet known to me. The next instant I observed a 

 small bird perched on the top of a fir tree, and on 

 approaching it, recognised it as the vocalist that had 

 so suddenly charmed my ear and raised my expectation. 

 We all followed its quick movements as it flew from 

 the tree backwards and forwards, without quitting the 

 spot, to Avhich it seemed attached. At last my son 

 John raised his gun, and on firing brought down the 

 bird, which fell among the brushwood, where we in 

 vain searched for it. 



The next day we chanced to pass along the same 

 patch of dwarf wood in search of the nests of certain 

 species of ducks, of which I intend to speak on another 

 occasion. We were separated from the woods by a 

 deep nai'row creek; but the recollection of the loss of 

 the bird, which I was sure had been killed, prompted 

 me to desire my young friends to dash across and 

 again search for it. In an instant six of us were on 

 the opposite shore, and dispersed among the woods. 

 My son was so fortunate as to find the little Regulus 

 among the moss near the tree from which it had fallen, 

 and brought it to me greatly disappointed. Not so 

 was I, for I had never heard the full song of the 

 Ruby-crowned Wren, and as I looked at it in my 

 hand I could not refrain from exclaiming, 'And so this 

 is the tiny body of the songster from which came the 

 loud notes heard yesterday. When I tell you that its 

 song is fully as sonorous as that of the Canary bird. 



