d caught a hummingbird's
nest. It was saddled on the limb as nicely as if it had been a grown
part of it.

Other collectors beside the ooelogists are looking for birds'-nests,--
the squirrels and owls and jays and crows. The worst depredator in this
direction I know of is the fish crow, and I warn him to keep off my
premises, and charge every gunner to spare him not. He is a small
sneak-thief, and will rob the nest of every robin, wood thrush, and
oriole he can come at. I believe he fishes only when he is unable to
find birds' eggs or young birds. The genuine crow, the crow with the
honest "caw," "caw," I have never caught in such small business, though
the kingbird makes no discrimination between them, but accuses both
alike.

IX

THE HALCYON IN CANADA

The halcyon or kingfisher is a good guide when you go to the woods. He
will not insure smooth water or fair weather, but he knows every stream
and lake like a book, and will take you to the wildest and most
unfrequented places. Follow his rattle and you shall see the source of
every trout and salmon stream on the continent. You shall see the Lake
of the Woods, and far-off Athabasca and Abbitibbe, and the unknown
streams that flow into Hudson's Bay, and many others. His time is the
time of the trout, too, namely, from April to September. He makes his
subterranean nest in the bank of some favorite stream, and then goes on
long excursions up and down and over woods and mountains to all the
waters within reach, always fishing alone, the true angler that he is,
his fellow keeping far ahead or behind, or taking the other branch. He
loves the sound of a waterfall, and will sit a long time on a dry limb
overhanging the pool below it, and, forgetting his occupation, brood
upon his own memories and fancies.

The past season my friend and I took a hint from him, and, when the
dog-star began to blaze, set out for Canada, making a big detour to
touch at salt water and to take New York and Boston on our way.

The latter city was new to me, and we paused there and angled a couple
of days and caught an editor, a philosopher, and a poet, and might have
caught more if we had had a mind to, for these waters are full of 'em,
and big ones, too.

Coming from the mountainous regions of the Hudson, we saw little in the
way of scenery that arrested our attention until we beheld the St.
Lawrence, though one gets glimpses now and then, as he is whirled along
through New Hampshir