snow-white head. It is sometimes troublesome to the poultry-yards:
those we have seen have disdained such low game, and soared majestically
away across the lake.

The fish-hawk we occasionally see skimming the surface of the water, and
it is regarded as an enemy by those who take delight in spearing fish
upon the lakes.

Then we have the night or mosquito-hawk, which may be seen in the air
pursuing the insect tribe in the higher regions, whilst hundreds of
great dragonflies pursue them below; notwithstanding their assistance,
we are bitten mercilessly by those summer pests the mosquitoes and black
flies.

The red-headed woodpecker is very splendid; the head and neck being of a
rich crimson; the back, wings, and breast are divided between the most
snowy white and jetty black. The incessant tapping of the woodpeckers,
and the discordant shriek of the blue jay, are heard from sunrise to
sunset, as soon as the spring is fairly set in.

I found a little family of woodpeckers last spring comfortably nested in
an old pine, between the bark and the trunk of the tree, where the
former had started away, and left a hollow space, in which the old birds
had built a soft but careless sort of nest; the little creatures seemed
very happy, poking their funny bare heads out to greet the old ones, who
were knocking away at the old stumps in their neighbourhood to supply
their cravings, as busy as so many carpenters at work.

[Illustration: Baltimore Oriole defending her Nest against the Black
Snake.]

A very curious bird's-nest was given me by one of our choppers; it was
woven over a forked spray, so that it had all the appearance of having
been sewn to the bough with grey thread. The nest was only secured at
the two sides that formed the angle, but so strong was it fastened that
it seemed to resist any weight or pressure of a moderate kind; it was
composed of the fibres of the bass-wood bark; which are very thready,
and may be drawn to great fineness: on the whole it was a curious
specimen of the ingenuity of these admirable little architects. I could
not discover the builder; but rather suspect the nest to have belonged
to my protege, the little winter titmouse that I told you of.

The nest of the Canadian robin, which I discovered while seeking for a
hen's nest in a bush-heap, just at the further edge of the clearing, is
very much like our home-robin's, allowing something for difference of
size in the bird, and in the material