PED UE ONS BUBBLE TIN 53 
other songsters, were silent, but the shrill screech of a large species of 
Cicada repeatedly startled us as we brushed against the weeds, while 
numerous grasshoppers were far more noisy than the birds. As we came 
well out on the prairie, however, a beautiful and unlooked-for sight 
appeared; in short, we were completely transfixed by the, to us, novel 
spectacle of numerous exquisitely graceful Swallow-tailed Kites floating 
about on bouyant wing, now gliding to the right or left, then sweeping 
in broad circles, and approaching so near that several were easily shot. 
Soaring lightly above them were many Mississippi Kites, of which one 
would now and then close its wings and plunge downward, as if to strike 
the very earth, but instantly checking the velocity of its fall by sudden 
spreading of the wings, would then shoot upward again almost to the 
height from which it had descended. When two or more passed one 
another at opposite angles—as frequently happened—the sight was 
beautiful in the extreme. 
The total number of species observed during these two trips, within 
the bounds of the prairie itself, numbered about ninety-five on each 
occasion; while the surrounding woodlands, cultivated grounds and 
river bottoms added so many more, that a total of about one hundred 
and forty species were ascertained to, in all probability, breed upon an 
area five miles square, having for its centre the portion of the prairie 
where we made our investigations. Of this grand total, only twenty-five 
were water-birds, the remainder of one hundred and Rifteen species of 
land-birds being, perhaps, as large a number of regular summer resi- 
dents as any locality of equal extent in North America can boast. 
A third visit to this prairie was made early in June, 1883—exactly 
twelve years after the first trip. The change which had taken place in 
the interval was almost beyond belief. Instead of an absolutely open 
prairie some six miles broad by ten in extreme length, covered with its 
original characteristic vegetation, there remained only 160 acres not under 
fence. With this insignificant exception, the entire area was covered 
by thriving farms, with their neat cottages, capacious barns, fields of 
corn and wheat, and even extensive orchards of peach and apple trees. 
The transformation was complete; and it was only by certain ineffaceable 
landmarks that we were able to identify the locality of our former visits. 
As a consequence, we searched in vain for the characteristic prairie 
birds. Upon the unenclosed tract of 160 acres—a common grazing 
ground for the herds of the neighborhood—Dick Cissels, Henslow’s 
Buntings, Yellow-winged Sparrows, and the Meadow-larks were abun- 
dant as ever; and running in the road, now wallowing in the dust, then 
alighting upon a fence stake, were plenty of Prairie Larks (Ofocorts); 
but—shades of Audubon!—equally numerous were the detestable and 
detested European House Sparrow, already ineradicably established. 
We searched in vain for Bell’s Vireo, for all the thickets had been de- 
stroyed. Neither was a solitary kite, of either species, to be seen. 
