in these thickets, was warbling his incomparable song. At first he had been giving vent to his ver_v unmusical call of alarm, but, becoming used to my presence, and concluding that I meant no harm, he joined in the concert.
Off to one side, among the more scrubby deciduous growth, I could hear, and sometimes see, a Redstart, while the tse-tse-tse-ing of the Black-poll Warblers, which were migrating northwards, could be heard intermittently. Two Quails were now calling loudly for Bob-White, or Rob-ert-White, as their fancy dictated, and in the confusing medley I could make out the modest notes of a Black and White Warbler, which had for years nested somewhere in this pasture. Behind me, at the top of the hill, I could also hear the clear, cheery notes of a Field Sparrow, which always builds there.
Being limited as to time, and having already heard twenty-eight kinds of birds in the short space of about twenty minutes, and from one place, I started to depart, but even as I did so I heard the notes of another bird coming across the marsh, that of the Black-billed Cuckoo, and just as I was again taking down the bars to get out into the street, what should I hear, loud, clear and distinct, but the song of that plaguey little White-eyed Vireo, a song seemingly of thanks-giving that I was really going and that he had eluded me so well. I then reluctantly mounted my bicycle, but was forced to get off, to add two more birds to my increasing list; viz., a Cowbird, which was sitting on the fence opposite, and a pair of Yellow-throated Vireos, the female of which had evidently but just left her nest for a lunch, while the male followed twittering and whispering close by, stopping his song until she should have resumed her duties of incubation.
I had now seen thirty-two different species of birds in the short space of about twenty-five minutes’ actual time spent in observation, after deducting the time spent in hunting the Vireo’s nest, and departed for home well content, even though I knew I had seen only about three-fifths of the varieties of birds that are often to be found in the immediate vicinity.
On a previous occasion, when I had been lucky enough to be able to spend a whole morning in this pasture, I had seen forty-four different species, nineteen of which I had not seen to-day, and which, added to the thirty-two noted above, make a total of fifty-one species. Of these, there were only five that were merely occasional visitors. Of the remainder, I have found direct evidence of the breeding of thirty-two species, while on various accounts I feel sure that fourteen others breed there, although I have never actually found their nests.
