dt hail utterly failed even to suggest the 
tortuous course of the Shawsheen 
through the sedge. When there Is little 
fall in a river’s course. It has not force 
enough to cut a straight channel, but 
swings from side to side, often turning 
back, and making loops of all descrip¬ 
tions. This was well enough for the 
morning, when our spirits were high, the 
sights and sounds novel and interesting 
and time no object; but as the sun began 
to decline and Ballardvale, as far as we 
could judge, was still only a remote pos¬ 
sibility, the stream’s irresolution began 
to wear on us. In places it seemed to 
have forgotten that a proper stream 
should have a well-defined course and 
main channel; it spread its waters aim¬ 
lessly about, filled up lagoons with back 
water, and sent off little water-courses 
through gaps in the sedgy barrier. \\ hen- 
ever we could find one of these cut-offs, 
broad enough to let through our canoe, 
we stole a march on the river, and felt 
elated as we looked back at the long 
loop we had avoided. 
For the most part there were few ob¬ 
structions 'in the stream, but in one spot 
the 'bare trunk of a slender maple had 
fallen completely across the channel, and 
lay like a foot-bridge about two feet 
above the water. The banks were cov¬ 
ered with almost impenetrable thickets 
not at all inviting to carry through. The 
forward man. therefore, conceived the 
plan of climbing the slender maple, and 
while balancing on its rather preca¬ 
rious support, forcing the bow of the 
canoe under the trunk, then slipping in 
again on the other side and allowing 
the rear man to repeat the manoeuvre. 
But the bow of a canoe rise® to a con¬ 
siderable height, and an empty canoe 
is very difficult to force downward any 
distance into the water. Everything 
would have been comparatively simple, 
however, had not a thrush at the very 
time when the situation had reached a 
critical moment appeared on the oppo¬ 
site bank, and run down to the mud to 
feed. The opera glasses had to be ex¬ 
tracted and focussed: it was clearly not 
a v^ery, therefore either an olive-backed 
of a gray-checked thrush. The side of 
the head must settle the matter; the 
canoe, the maple, the ornithologist re¬ 
clining like an anaconda, all had to 
wait till the thrush turned Its cheek to 
the stream, was pronounced an undoubt¬ 
ed gray-cheek, apparently the larger 
sub-species, on its way to Hudson’s Bay, 
and then the task of navigating the 
Shawsheen was resumed. 
There were not so many migrating 
warblers along the banks of the river as 
I had expected. In the white willows, 
spicy with 'blossoms, and full of the 
murmer of bees, were small hands of 
parulas, and while we lunched a company 
of migrants were literally taking their 
lunch, which is, however, part of a con¬ 
tinuous performance, In the trees above 
us. There were two chestnut-sided warb¬ 
lers, a female redstart, a pair of black 
and white creepers and a black and yel¬ 
low (magnolia) warbler, coming from 
what tropical forest, going to what New 
Hamoshlre glen? 
Rod-eyed vlreos were established here 
and there, but I thought from the number 
that not all had yet come. At intervals 
of about a mile, we heard rose-breasted 
grosbeaks each putting all his heart 
into his song. The hoarse notes of tan- 
agers in the pine groves, and the drum¬ 
ming of woodpeckers, were occasional 
sounds, and all through the gray birch ( 
on the hillsides Nashville warblers, to 
quote Mr. Torrey’s amusing description, j 
began their songs, got tired, and ended 
with “oh! fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.’’ There 
were plenty of swallows, of course, yel¬ 
low warblers and catbirds, but the mam 
ornithological impression that I have of 
the trip is of the red-wing blackbirds, 
rising from the sedge, the male black 
with blazing epaulets, the female brown 
and streaked, both shrill and protesting. 
From one boggy meadow I caught the 
absurd song of a Henslow’s bunting, fiec- 
sic delivered as one syllable. A little 
further on, a short-billed marsh wren 
was singing; these two species, both very 
local, are often associated. Their pres¬ 
ence like so much else, depends on the 
history of the region. A great 
valley is carved by a pre-glacial torrent, 
is then choked up and becomes a vast 
lake and now, ages after, some petty 
stream meanders through acres of sedge, 
and on some tussocks a Henslow’s spar¬ 
row sits and delivers his ridiculous 
music. 
In the latter part of our course we 
caught occasional glimpses of a great 
blue heron, which -we disturbed at his 
{ frog-hunting. Long before we were 
aware of liis presence he knew of ours, 
and rising majestically on gray black- 
tipped pinions, passed on down stream, 
so much faster than we that he had time 
to catch several frogs, even in his slow 
fashion, before we came up with him. 
I had supposed that we should in the 
same way put up, from the edge of the 
stream, many a “bill-engulphing” bit¬ 
tern, or catch sight of them, stealing off 
with humped back into the deeper sedge, 
but we saw none at all, and only as the 
shadows lengthened, heard one or two 
pumping in a distant part of the 
meadow. 
For a mile or so above Burt’s Cross¬ 
ing the level of the stream^ had been 
raised by a dam and then lowered with¬ 
in a few weeks. All along the banks 
the hushes were gray and water- 
stained, almost to their leafy tips; the 
■broad stretches of- grass and sedge were 
flat and discolored, and an odor that 
smelled like going in swimming after 
school came from the banks. Two spe¬ 
cies of sandpiper were feeding on these 
flats; one was our resident inland sand¬ 
piper, the spotted, the other, called the 
solitary, was on Its way to its unknown 
northern breeding ground. Seeing the 
two together it seemed strange that I 
ever had trouble in distinguishing them; 
our bird is light brown, with broad 
white spots, which form a bar through 
the outspread wings, which he constant¬ 
ly 'holds curved like a bow; the other Is 
dark jalackish-brown, with white outer 
