Passing Ball's Hill I landed at Birch Island and 
walked to the Mason field. While standing in the middle 
of the dense oak woods between this field and the river, 
I saw a large bird,which I took at first for a Jay, chasing 
a Warbler through the tree tops. Back and forth they 
went, passing directly over me several times. The Warbler 
seemed to be annoyed rather than frightened and his 
pursuer did not appear to exert himself. Indeed, during 
much of the time he seemed to be losing rather than 
gaining ground but he kept steadily after the 'Warbler, 
following all its twists and turns closely. I was be¬ 
ginning to wonder what it all meant when the two plunged 
into sane dense foliage and the next instant came to the 
ground together, the Warbler chirping in sharp, agonized 
tones. I hurried to the spot and found that my supposed 
Jay was a Northern Shrike, a brown young bird. He was 
standing on the ground under the trees, shaking the poor, 
fluttering Warbler as a terrier shakes a rat. I had a 
loaded gun in my hands and was sorely tempted to use it, 
but refrained. The next instant the Shrike flew off over 
the meadow, carrying his prey in his bill. I think the 
Warbler was a Blackpoil. At least its chirp sounded like 
that of that species. 
Two fine Red-tailed Hawks were sitting in the tops 
of some maples on the meadow opposite Davis's Hill. As I 
approached, one of them flew and alighted in the same tree 
with the other and within a yard of him. One was adult, 
the other had a brown tail. 
