eee age A, al sUeBsO Ny BeU cE Ee RD IN 15 
Along the margins of the wooded swamps, the woodcock is still to be 
found, probing for worms in the soft muck. The nests are to be found there 
too, lined with leaves, usually at the base of a small sapling, but they 
require a well-trained eye to be seen. The camouflage is perfect and the 
bird does not leave her nest until touched by the foot or hand of the 
trespasser. 
The marsh hawk is king of the wet meadows, building a nest of coarse 
grasses on the ground, high enough to be out of the wet, but low enough to 
be concealed by last year’s growth of grass and weeds. Near-by, one hears 
the quaint voice of Henslow’s sparrow and the metallic notes of the short- 
billed marsh wren. The short-eared owl, also a ground nester, and formerly 
a regular inhabitant, is now extremely rare or has deserted the region 
altogether. 
Along the lanes leading to the dunes, one finds the song sparrow, the 
yellow warbler, the Maryland yellow-throat, the indigo bunting, the brown 
thrasher and the catbird, nesting and singing, and the same group is found 
along the woodland edges and in the brush and thickets adjacent thereto, 
while in the dry, open meadows along the southern bcundary, or between 
the contemporary and the Tolleston dunes, the bobolink, the meadowlark, 
the killdeer and the vesper sparrow are at home. 
The observer of birds who has followed them in the dunes for many 
years has engraved on the tablets of his memory many sharply drawn 
pictures—the sentinel crow, black against the evening sky; the lines of 
gulls sailing on the shrieking winds of winter along the shore dunes— 
example of perfect poise; the groups of sanderlings searching the shore for 
food; the chewink startling the meditative stroller by rustling in the under- 
brush, kicking leaves with both feet, singing resonantly; the indigo bunting 
richly colored as with an analine dye, singing through the midsummer day, 
melodiously although somewhat mechanically; the scarlet tanager, spark 
from the tropical sun, flaming among the cool green leaves of the deeper 
woods; the hummingbird, gem of the woods, sitting on its gem-like lichen- 
studded nest in the deep forest or overhanging the stream; the oven-bird 
with its dutch-oven nest reiterating teacher—teacher—teacher—teacher 
through the woods; the great horned ow] sitting on her open nest, snow on 
her back, amid the sleet and storms of March; the drumming of the ruffed 
grouse in the early morning of spring—arresting, characteristic, indescrib- 
able, utterly unlike any other woodland sound; the low winging of a wedge 
of wild geese just after dusk, so low you can hear the swish of their wing's 
as they curve down to alight in a meadow. All these pictures and many 
more remain permanently in his mind. 
The winter birds are friendly and interesting. Bohemian waxwing's and 
evening grosbeaks and crossbills come down from the north to feed on the 
berries and other produce of the dunes, tree sparrows are always abundant, 
snowflakes and pine siskins less so. Rarely, Artic three-toed woodpeckers 
and snowy owls drop into the dunes for a winter call. Mergansers and old 
squaw ducks make their home on the lake. Chickadees, downy woodpeckers, 
red-headed woodpeckers, nuthatches, cardinals and titmice become more 
friendly, seeking suet, seeds and crumbs at your door. 
