156 Brewster on the Prothonotary Warbler. 
ite willows, at others, when clinging against the side of an old log 
or tree-trunk, the yellow head and breast, turned outward to the 
light, seemed fairly to glow with color, in contrast with the green 
moss or dusky wood. On cloudy, lowering days I have been sur- 
prised at the effect produced by a male flying across an open space 
close to the dark water. It was as if a sunbeam had glanced 
athwart the spot, lighting up everything for a moment, and leaving 
greater gloom from the contrast after it had disappeared. Again 
and again have I been tempted into shooting one, which I did not 
really want, but which seemed far brighter than any I had previously 
taken ; upon picking him up, however, I would find him perhaps no 
more beautiful than many already preserved. 
Mating began almost immediately after the arrival of the females, 
and the “ old, old story ” was told in many a willow thicket by little 
golden-breasted lovers. The scene enacted upon such occasions was 
not strikingly different from that usual among the smaller birds : 
retiring and somewhat indifferent coyness on the part of the female ; 
violent protestations and demonstrations from the male, who swelled 
his plumage, spread his wings and tail, and fairly danced round the 
object of his affections. Sometimes at this juncture another male 
appeared, and then a fierce conflict was sure to ensue. The com- 
batants would struggle together most furiously until the weaker was 
forced to give way and take to flight. On several occasions I have 
seen two males, after fighting among the branches for a long time, 
clinch and come fluttering together to the water beneath, where for 
several minutes the contest continued upon the surface until both 
were fairly drenched. The males rarely meet in the mating sea- 
son without fighting, even though no female may be near. Some- 
times one of them turns tail at the outset ; and the other at once 
giving chase, the pursuer and pursued, separated by a few inches 
only, go darting through the woods, winding, doubling, now career- 
ing away up among the tree-tops, now down over the vrater, sweep- 
ing close to the surface until the eye becomes weary with following 
their mad flight. During all this time the female usually busies 
herself with feeding, apparently entirely unconcerned as to the issue. 
Upon the return of the conqueror her indifference, real or assumed, 
vanishes, he receives a warm welcome, and matters are soon ar- 
ranged between them. 
The usual song of the Prothonotary Warbler sounds at a distance 
like the call of the Solitary Sandpiper, with a syllable or two added, — 
