StNicholas . ed. As Harry reluctantly left the wood-pile nest, the ONK DAY ON A DESERT ISLAND. i3 popping of Dicks gun along the beach told plainlyenough that its owner was enjoying the day, in away to suit his tastes. Off in the distance Tom was visible, standingmotionless, gazing intently on the ground, whilearound and over his head circled and flew scoresof swallow-like birds. As Harry approached thespot, he could see that the birds were muchtoo large for swallows, and were peculiarly markedwith white, giving the effect of an open spacebetween the tip and main part of the wings. Thea
StNicholas . ed. As Harry reluctantly left the wood-pile nest, the ONK DAY ON A DESERT ISLAND. i3 popping of Dicks gun along the beach told plainlyenough that its owner was enjoying the day, in away to suit his tastes. Off in the distance Tom was visible, standingmotionless, gazing intently on the ground, whilearound and over his head circled and flew scoresof swallow-like birds. As Harry approached thespot, he could see that the birds were muchtoo large for swallows, and were peculiarly markedwith white, giving the effect of an open spacebetween the tip and main part of the wings. Theair was full of them, and they darted by close tohis ears with a whirring noise. Harry found Tom on his knees apparentlysearching for something in the sand. I say, Tom, if you have lost )our senses, youwill never find them again without a microscope,was Harr>s salutation. I think I must have lost one of my senses atleast, responded Tom, for I had my eye fixedupon the exact spot where a bird was sitting, but. when the bird flew off, and I stooped to pickup the two eggs I knew must be there — presto,change,—and they were gone. You know, my boy,these night-hawks dont build nests, but deposittheir eggs upon a flat rock, or on the eggs are small, and so closely do they resem-ble the ground or lichens in color and markingsthat it is next to impossible to find them. T is, eh ? Well, that depends upon who it isthat is hunting them, cried Harry, as he stoopedand picked up something at his feet which hehanded to his friend, with : Here, friend nat-uralist. You sec, an artist must have a good eyeto distinguish delicate shades of color. Thanks, old fellow, and Tom, taking from hispocket a small blow-pipe, made a hole at each endof the eggs and blew out the contents; then plac- *See St. Nicholas for ing them carefully each in a separate box, hemarked the boxes, May 30th, 1881. Desert Isl-and, Chordeiles popeliiej location, open, sandyflats. Here Harry, who had
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