12 THE AU DU BON BUD bien 
the Park, but always so intriguing because of their grotesqueness. Here, 
too, we first saw the violet-green swallows which were apparently nesting 
under one of the culverts along the road. The canyon is, of course, ideal 
osprey territory, and, after a few minutes checking of the rock walls and 
sharp pinnacles from Artist Point, we located a nest on the very top of a 
spire a little below us. There seemed to be young in the nest and the 
naturalist verified this, saying that they had been hatched only a couple of 
days before. If you like company when you are fishing you should be 
satisfied at Fishing Bridge. There were at least a hundred people leaning 
over the railing on either side and intent upon their lines, with what success 
there was nothing to indicate. 
The next day we spent renewing an old acquaintance with Old Faithful 
and others of the geysers in that neighborhood, but a new acquaintance gave 
us, if anything, a greater thrill. At the east end of the museum there was 
a nesting box made from a section of a tree with the branches still attached, 
and the occupants were a pair of mountain bluebirds that did not care to 
leave the box unprotected while we were near and showing signs of being 
interested. The result was that we had an opportunity to watch them at 
short range as long as we wished, and that wonderful blue of the male bird 
kept us there for many minutes. In the Park we also found the American 
bittern, black-crowned night heron, great blue heron, pied-billed grebe, 
white-crowned sparrow, nighthawk, our flicker and his western relative, the 
red-shafted flicker. The animal life was also of interest, and at various 
points in the Park we saw the usual number of bears, some deer, an elk, 
woodchuck, etc., all feeding contentedly and without much attention to their 
human neighbors. 
Leaving Yellowstone by way of Gardner we headed for Glacier National 
Park, entering from the west and stopping at a settlement called Apgar, a 
beautiful spot on Lake McDonald, the only bit of shore line not on a 
mountainside. On the way we were surprised at the great number of hawks 
and their apparent lack of fear. They would sit on fence posts as we slowly 
drove past and show much less interest in us than we did in them. Their 
attention seemed to be centered on the gophers, chipmunks and jackrabbits 
which were very plentiful, the road being liberally sprinkled with the bodies 
of those that had been run over by automobiles.* Later inquiry and museum 
study at Banff showed them to be red-tailed and Swainson’s mostly, with 
an occasional marsh and sparrow hawk. Between Yellowstone and Banff 
we must have seen well over a hundred along the roadside. 
At Apgar a small but rapid stream runs out of the lake and the shore 
is nicely wooded. Many bird songs were heard and it seemed a good place 
to look around for awhile. The hunting was good and gave us the olive- 
sided flycatcher, goldfinch, blue jay, vesper sparrow, red-eyed and warbling 
vireos, catbird, kingfisher, cedar waxwing, junco, and red-headed wood- 
pecker. But the prize was yet to come! A small bridge crossed the stream 
and made an excellent observation post. On a stub sticking out of the water 
something moved that proved to be a small bird. While we studied it a 
parent bird came and fed the youngster, then flew back to the far side of 
*Local observers say that the hawks now concentrate along the main highways to take 
advantage of these free meals. 
