would result differently. It must be remembered, however, that where a bird is noticed in its natural haunts, once, even if for more than an hour—which is an unusually long observation—there are weeks when this same bird is unseen, and therefore what its acts may be are absolutely unknown. For this reason, an ingenious act of a bird may be frequently repeated, and almost certainly is. Indeed, our ignorance of bird-life is so great, that what seem to us "curious instances," because but seldom witnessed, are frequently daily occurrences, and ordinary features of the bird's life. It can scarcely have escaped the notice of close observers of our winter birds, that their comparative abundance is only during clear, pleasant weather, when they will be as lively and restless as spring birds in early summer, and that during the winter certain localities, as the southern outlooks of wooded hillsides and such sheltered spots, are those where these hardy species "most do congregate." During a mild day, at some such spot, we can almost delude ourselves into thinking that spring is coming; but on the morrow a fierce wind rattles the bare branches above you, clouds of stinging dust, or driving snow, fill the chilled air, and not a bird is to be seen or heard, the cheery sights and sounds of yesterday having given place to a dreariness most drear. One question now arises, and we naturally ask, "What has become of the birds, so lately here?"
During the winter of 1874-'75 (the coldest except one—1835−'36—since 1780), I endeavored to determine to what extent these birds sought shelter, and the character of it, not only as a protection against severe storms, but as regular winter quarters, i. e., for roosting-places. I was led to do this from the fact that these winter residents, as the bluebird, the cardinal redbird, and the titmouse, do not roost in the trees, as in summer, and it seemed probable that, seeking warmer quarters in ordinary weather, they should seek shelter from severe storms, and not temporarily migrate to some point beyond the limits of the storm; not only this, but that some spot is selected early in the season as such roosting-place and refuge, and occupied as such throughout the season. So far as my observations extend, I was correct in my surmises.
I have, on my farm, a deep "gully," or ravine, thickly wooded, and with overhanging banks, extending a considerable portion of the entire length. This overhanging earth is held in place, partly by the character of the soil, and more by the roots of the trees growing near the margins of the gully. In this locality, under the overhanging earth, in some instances at a distance of three feet from the open ground, I found the snow-birds, song and chipping sparrows, occasionally a flock of cedar-birds, the arctic snow-bird, and horned larks, roosting; and, judging from the amount of excreta upon the ground, this had been the accustomed roosting-place for many weeks. A little before sundown, during January, I would find these birds, some or
