160 Brewster on the Prothonotary WarUer. 



or six inches in height by three or four in diameter. When the 

 cavity is shallow, it is often only scantily lined with moss and a 

 few fine roots. The deeper nests are of course the more elaborate 

 ones. One of the finest specimens before me is composed of moss, 

 dry leaves, and cypress-twigs. The' cavity for the eggs is a neatly 

 rounded, cup-shaped hollow, two inches in diameter by one and 

 a half in depth, smoathly lined with fine roots and a few wing- 

 feathers of some small bird. 



The number of eggs constituting a full set varies to an unusual 

 degree ; two nests were found, each of which contained seven eggs, 

 while in another instance a nest, which from its position could not 

 possibly have been molested, had only one, nearly ready to be 

 hatched. Out of fifteen sets of eggs taken, two included seven 

 eggs J three, six; three, five; four, four; two, three; and one, one 

 egg. The average number is probably five or six. Seventeen 

 specimens before me agree pretty well in size and general shape, 

 nearly all being noticeably blunted at the smaller end. Two 

 selected as extreme examples measure respectively .73 X .59 and 

 .67 X .58. The ground-color is clear, lustrous white, with a high 

 polish. Eggs from different sets vary considerably in markings, 

 but two types of coloration seem to prevail. In one, spots and 

 dottings of dull brown with faint submarkings of pale lavender are 

 generally and evenly distributed over the entire surface. In the 

 other, bold blotches of bright reddish brown are so thickly laid on, 

 especially about the larger ends, that the ground-color is in some 

 instances almost entirely obscured. 



In the hope of presenting to the reader's mind some slight idea 

 of the general character and surroundings of the locality where the 

 Prothonotary Warblers were found breeding in the greatest abun- 

 dance, I close with a brief description of a visit, on May 11, to 

 the Cypress Swamp. Towards the middle of the afternoon we 

 reached Beaver Dam Pond, and embarked in an old weather- 

 beaten dugout. Our guide, a half-breed Indian and a most accom- 

 plished woodsman, took his station in the stern, and with a vigorous 

 shove upon his long push-pole sent the frail craft well out into the 

 pond. Before us stretched a long, narrow sheet of water hemmed 

 in on every- side by an unbroken wall of forest trees. Around the 

 margin grew a fringe of batton-bushes, with a sprinkling of tall 

 slender willows, while behind and above them towered the light- 

 green feathery crests of numerous cypresses. The low shores were 



Brewster on the Prothonotary Warbler. 



161 



in many places flooded with water for a considerable distance back 

 into the woods, to where the land rose in broken ridges and the 

 cypresses gave way to a growth of oaks, black-walnuts, lindens, and 

 numerous other forest trees. The depth of the water, even in the 

 centre of the pond, did not exceed five feet, and over the greater 

 part of its extent rank grasses, yellow water-lilies, and other 

 aquatic plants reared their tall stalks or broad leaves in such pro- 

 fusion, that everywhere, except immediately around the canoe, the 

 eye rested upon what seemed a meadow of waving green. The few 

 acres of comparatively open water were sprinkled with water-lilies 

 {Nynvplma odorata) or thickly studded with the delicate, star- 

 shaped blossoms of the Cahomha caroliniana, the moss-like stems of 

 which extended in a perfect labyrinth beneath the surface. As we 

 pushed our way through the denser growths, the stems yielded 

 before the bow with a slight rustling sound. Wood Ducks and 

 Hooded Mergansers rose on every side, while their broods of downy 

 ducklings scuttled off among the water-plants, sometimes huddling 

 close together, a dusky mass of bobbing little forms, at others, when 

 closely pressed, separating and diving like water-sprites. Overhead, 

 Buzzards were wheeling in graceful, interminable circlings, while in 

 their nests upon the tops of some gigantic sycamores, a little back 

 from the shore, stood a number of Great Blue Herons, their tall 

 graceful forms boldly outlined against the sky. From the lower 

 depths of the forest came innumerable bird voices, — the slow, solemn 

 chant of the Wood Thrush, the clear, whistled challenge of the 

 Cardinal, the sweet wild notes of the Louisiana Water Thrush, the 

 measured pter-dle, pter-dle, pter-dle of the Kentucky Warbler, and 

 the emphatic song of the Hooded Flycatcher. Higher \ip among 

 the^ti-ees Woodpeckers rattled upon dead limbs, a Tanager sang 

 at intervals, the Tufted Titmouse reiterated its monotonous _pe<o, 

 peto, and numerous Blue Warblers added their guttural little trills 

 to the general chorus.' From all along the pond edges came the 



