arbler flitting about with a worm in her bill. Again and again she
disappeared somewhere in the tanglewood, and came back with an empty bill
to chirp her disapproval of my spying; but look as I would in the very
places where she went down, I could discover no nest. In Warbledom it is
evidently no violation of ethical principles to act a lie in order to
protect a nestful of bantlings.

But my story is not to have a disappointing ending, after all, for in the
spring and summer of 1902 my stars became auspicious, and I found three
Kentucky warblers' nests that were tenanted and several more that were
already deserted. Perhaps the turning of my luck was due not so much to
accident as to the fact that I had "caught on," and knew more about their
ruses. One of the nests discovered is worth describing.

It was on a hilltop in Kansas, blown by the freshest breezes that sweep
over the limitless prairies. An ideal spot, indeed, for the nesting of
birds that love lone places. In one of my rambles I found this pleasant
elevation, and was attracted by the possibilities it offered for bird
study. Presently a male Kentucky warbler appeared with a couple of large
worms in his beak, and I made up my mind to find his nest if perseverance
could accomplish that object. So I sat down in the shade of a tree and
watched the bird closely. Now note his admirable finesse. After
flitting about among the bushes for a minute or two, chirping his protest
at my presence, he descended into the copse below and disappeared. Of
course, any student of birds would have supposed that he had gone down
near the nest to feed his bairns, and that he only needed to go and
examine the place to discover the little avian secret. My pulses
thrilled more than a little as I began my search for the nest right where
the bird had descended into the thicket. But do you know that my most
strenuous efforts--and they _were_ strenuous on a hot day like
that--resulted only in disappointment? The nest was not to be found
within a radius of a rod from the point where the little diplomat went
down. A few days later I made my way to the hilltop, and do you know
that the shrewd bird played me the same trick? He scuttled down into the
bushes at almost the same point as before, and no nest rewarded my
search. I went home just about ready to give up my search for Kentucky
warblers' nests, for I had been hunting them for a number of years
without success.

However, i