162 EiDGWAY on Birds observed at Mount Carmel. 



living stems were filled with stubs in every stage of decay, and 

 perforated with countless Woodpecker-holes, most of them old, 

 and long since given up by their original tenants. That a locality 

 so favorable in every way had not been overlooked by the Protho- 

 notary Warblers was soon evinced by the presence of the birds 

 on all sides in numbers that far exceeded anything which we had 

 previously seen, and careful search soon revealed a number of nests. 

 Probably not less than twenty pairs were here breeding in close 

 proximity. In the larger holes and among the branches were the 

 nests of a colony of Graokles (Quiscalus purpureus), and a few 

 Woodpeckers and Carolina Titmice were also nesting somewhere in 

 the vicinity. As we returned down the pond late in the afternoon 

 the sun was sinking behind the tree-tops. The dying breeze still 

 agitated the crest of the forest, but not a breath rippled the still 

 water beneath. The lonely pool rested in deep shadow, save at its 

 upper end, where the slanting sunbeams still lighted up the group 

 of willows, bringing out their yellowish foliage in strong relief 

 against the darker mass behind. The arches of the grand old 

 woods were filled with a softened, mysterious light, and a solemn 

 hush and silence prevailed, broken only by the occasional hooting 

 of a Barred Owl or the song of some small bird among the upper 

 branches, where the rays of the setting sun still lingered. High in 

 air, over the open space the Buzzards still wheeled and soared on 

 easy wing. Ducks were scurrying about in all directions or plash- 

 ing down among the lily leaves, and a heavy plunge in shore told 

 where a startled otter had risen and disappeared. As the last rays 

 of sunlight touched the top of a mighty sycamore that raised its 

 towering head above its fellows, the Herons left their rookery and 

 laboriously winged their way overhead to some distant feeding- 

 ground. Long in the writer's memory will linger that last glimpse 

 of beautiful Beaver Dam Pond. Bull, N.O.O. 3, Oct., 1878, pft 



Deaten augout. uur guiue, a iiaii-oreea maian ana 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 button-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 



