AND- 
OOLOGIST. 
$1.00 per 
Annum. 
PUBLISHED BY FRANK B. WEBSTER. 
Established, March, 1875. 
Single Copy 
10 cents. 
Vol. XV. 
BOSTON, MASS., MARCH, 1890. 
No. 3. 
A Wet Day with the Marsh Hawks. 
Every collector of experience, without look- 
ing at his field-books, has a fixed date in his 
mind when the bulk of a certain species will 
be found breeding. Overhaul your memory, 
brother-worker, and if you can spare but one 
day to go after the most eggs of each species, 
see if it would not be .June 4th for the Panda 
and Prairie Warblers, Feb. 28th for Great Horned 
Owl, and Api'il 1st for Barred Owls. Others, 
earlier afield, may secure a big clutch of 
highly-colored eggs from some young Hawk, 
the first week in April, oi‘, by lingering, 
come across an .aged JUiten covering her two 
pale eggs the last of May, but your single 
day of days for tlie Red-shouldered Hawk is 
April 20th. 
Your memorized date for Marsli Hawks 
should be May 20th. Hence it was one day 
late when I decided to go on the 21st of May 
last year after Harrier’s eggs. Yow let us 
look at the recoid of the last few years and 
see how our dates agree with our heads in 
field work. May 21, 1889; May 20, 1888; May 
20, 1887; May IT, 1880; May 17, 188r>; May 18, 
1884; May 20, 1882; May 17, 1881. On .June, 
(i, 1880, I found a nest with three young, one 
pipped egg, and one stale egg — showing the 
set must have been laid ten days sooner than 
my earliest record. Between 187.7 and 1880 1 
had no precedents to go by, and find records 
of sets taken .June 1st, mostly with eggs well 
incubated. 
So, early in the morning of the 21st of last 
May, in an open wagon, with my climber and 
setter dog trained to point ground-builders, 
I started to drive seventeen miles to ISTorth 
Stonington, to look after my four or five 
pairs t)f Harriers. The light drizzle at start- 
ing increased as we covered mile after mile of 
the highway, until it became a most frightful 
down-pour. All bird-life disappeared, brooks 
were soon swollen beyond their banks, and 
tbe turnpike was such a river of water that in 
front of the farmhouses goslings were noted 
swimming in the middle of the road. The 
storm must have been most disastrous to the 
many flocks of young turkeys we saw. We 
were forced to take shelter from the deluge 
more than two hours in a small wayside shed. 
Our unheralded entrance dispossessed several 
tenants in the shape of two female Robins, a 
Phoebe, and a singing male House Wren. The 
I’ewee went off her nest on one of the sup- 
ports of the shed, and as one of the Robins 
seemed to go off the same nest, we ordered 
an investigation. It appeared that the post 
had been sawn in two, and a shingle slipped 
through it, that stuck out on each side. On 
the north side of the shingle was the Pewee’s 
nest with four eggs, and on the south side was 
tlie Robin’s holding four eggs. Thus, nests of 
Flycatcher and Thriisli were witliin eight 
indies of each othei'. The second Robin had 
placed her nest on the seat of a Buckeye 
mower which was on a slight scaffolding over- 
head. The cup of the nest was normal, but 
the bottom was so spread out with straw and 
hay as to nearly fill the seat of the machine. 
Tbe Wren, unmated to all appearance, had 
filled an old Barn Swallow’s nest with sticks, 
and had stuck bunches of sticks in every 
handy nook and crevice. 
Peering out through holes in the back of the 
shed, we saw what we took to be birds playing 
on a sheep barn forty rods out in the fields. I 
made a break through the rain to this out- 
standing barn and discovered our “birds” to 
be six young grey squirrels, and in a cranny I 
saw the warm husks and hair where they had 
been littered. As tbe clouds lifted and we 
backed out from our leaky shed for a fresh 
start, we saw a tew Purple Graokles and 
some bulky remains of old nests in an im- 
mense elm shadowing the farmhouse, and the 
farmer told us it was the only place for miles 
around where the Crowbills built. 
Tbe rain ceased, but it was afternoon before 
we began circling the first marsh. From this 
Copyright, 18.')0, by Fkank ]). Websteh. 
and the next bog we drew blanks. Though we 
fired our guns, tried all known arts, and with 
our already drenched clothes swept the heavy 
rain drops from every bush and briar we 
could not flush a feather. The third bog 
through which Broad Brook’s biggest feeder 
runs, we found to be wholly under water. 
While we were wading through a thick and 
brushy corner, a farmer’s voice from out of 
the depths of the swamp bailed us: “You 
hain’t seen nothin’ of a brindled yearlin’ 
heifer?” Xo, we hadn’t, but later we saw the 
body of the drowned calf caught by the brush 
in the main brook. 
Hopeless and bedrabbled, dog and men, we 
then drove to our last likely bog, only to have a 
further instalment of this wet day’s hard luck. 
In vain, by sections, did we apparently cross 
and re-cross every foot of the marsh. In fact 
we once emerged on the upland, blown and 
completely discouraged, unhitched our team, 
climbed .slowly in, and had actually turned 
around towards home, when my climber gave 
me such a look of mingled disgust and new con- 
fidence which 1 interpreted, so without a word 
we fastened our team and hurried back to the 
old bog which had never failed us before. Five 
minutes later though intent on my own beat, I 
bappened to look over my shoulder and .saw 
a Hawk start at the very heels of my climbei', 
but behind him, md after he had domly passed 
her hy. I shouted to him and he whirled 
around, fired, but missed the Hawk. I was 
delighted at the poor shot, for there were six 
fine eggs, and there may be another big clutch 
about May 20, 1890. Indeed this was within 
two rods of the spot where I got my finest set 
of seven eggs in 1882. 
Taking heart from this bit of luck, and hav- 
ing two hours more of daylight, we drove 
back to our first bog to sweep it with a long 
heavy rope. We were quietly knotting the 
rope on the bank when the male Hawk came 
quickly around a hill and plumped into the 
marsh with a cry like a Cooper. Answering 
its call the female at once took wing and sailed 
away for her supper. We wore holding back the 
dog, and I had be,en sitting on the gun to keep 
my climber from using it; but at this iroint the 
dog broke away and dashed into the bog, but 
came to a stand at the nest. Xor would the 
Hawk start from her five eggs till we walked 
up to the nest ahead of the dog, which we 
would not allow to .jump for his usual mouth- 
ful of feathers. Now we do not know why 
the birds lay so close all day, unless from the 
heavy atmosphere and the depression from 
the floods of rain. In the dry weather our 
dog rarely has failed to point Marsh Hawks, 
and the birds start before we get within a rod 
of the nest. This bog was of sphagnum, fast 
filling with young maples, and the nest was 
big enough to be moved. 
Xo nest held the six eggs; the bog itself was 
free of trees, but the substratum of sphagnum 
was wholly overrun with a curious matted tangle 
of dwarfed sheep laurel. The wooded swamp 
back of the bog was tilled with pitcher plant and 
purple cypripedium and great clumijs of rare 
wild calla lily (C'aWapahi.s-tri.s-). ,/. M. W. 
t),&O.XV,lvIir. 1890 p. 5i-3V 
