y
perched on the topmost twig of the tallest tree, shielded by a leaf, and
pours out the tantalizing trill that draws one like a magnet.

Between this road and the wren's highway a path runs upward. It is
narrow, and guarded at the opening by a mossy log to be stepped over,
but it is most alluring. Up that route we go. On the left as we pass we
notice two beautiful nests in saplings, so low that we can look in;
redstarts both, and nearly always we find madam at home. We pass on,
step over a second mossy log, pause a moment to glance at a vireo's
hanging cradle on the right, and arrive at length at a crossing road,
on the other side of which our path goes on, with a pile of logs like a
stile to go over. Over the logs we step, walk a rod or two further, stop
beside the blackened trunk of a fallen tree, turn our faces to the left,
and behold the nest.

Before us is one of nature's arches. A maple sapling, perhaps fifteen
feet high, has in some way been bowed till its top touched the ground
and became fastened there, a thing often seen in these woods. Thus
diverted from its original destiny of growing into a tree, it has kept
its "sweetness and light," sent out leaves and twigs through all its
length, and become one of the most beautiful things in the woods--a
living arch. Just in the middle of this exquisite bow, five feet above
the ground, is the tanager's nest, well shielded by leaves. We never
should have found it if the little fellow in scarlet had not made so
much objection to our going up this particular passage that we suspected
him of having a secret in this quarter. He went ahead of us from tree to
tree, keeping an eye on us, and calling, warily, "chip-chur!" When we
sat down a few moments to see what all the fuss was about, we saw his
spouse in her modest dress of olive green on a low branch. She, too,
uttered the cry "chip-chur!" and seemed disturbed by our call. Looking
around for the object of their solicitude, our eyes fell at the same
instant on the nest. We dared not speak, but an ecstatic glance from my
comrade, with a hand laid on her heart to indicate her emotions,
announced that our hopes were fulfilled; it was the nest we were
seeking.

The birds, seeing that we meant to stay, flew away after a while, and we
hastened to secrete ourselves before they should return, by placing our
camp-stools in a thick growth of saplings just higher than our heads. We
crowned ourselves with fresh leaves, not as conqu