. Birds and nature . birdcircles about, continually rising to agreater height, until the climax isreached, and it is about two hundred feetabove the ground. Now commences thedescent with greater rapidity and an-other sound issues forth, this time fromthe mouth, and as the bird nears theearth the notes develop into a mellowwarble and with a swoop, the male dropsout of sight amid the brush, usually buta short distance from where he arose. During a period of three or four yearsI made several excursions annually dur-ing March, April and May in the hope offinding a Woodcocks , but withoutavail
. Birds and nature . birdcircles about, continually rising to agreater height, until the climax isreached, and it is about two hundred feetabove the ground. Now commences thedescent with greater rapidity and an-other sound issues forth, this time fromthe mouth, and as the bird nears theearth the notes develop into a mellowwarble and with a swoop, the male dropsout of sight amid the brush, usually buta short distance from where he arose. During a period of three or four yearsI made several excursions annually dur-ing March, April and May in the hope offinding a Woodcocks , but withoutavail, though I seldom failed to see thebirds. At last I was successful. Onebalmy afternoon in April I was in thetimber near where I had spent the daystudying bird migration. Several whitecrowned sparrows were frolicking aboutin a willow bush, and in order to obtaina better view of them I started for theopposite side of the bush and glancingdown I beheld in a slight hollow of deadleaves the remains of four eggs, which 170. told the tale of a newly hatched broodof Woodcocks, I stood, seemingly mes-merized for a moment, over what wasindeed a meager reward for my yearsof search, but I had accomplished onething, which was the positive locationof its breeding grounds. There wasconsiderable satisfaction in this discov-ery and I now longed for the approachof another spring, in which I hoped tobe more successful. The following year, with a sixty milesan hour gale blowing from the north-east, I started on a typical March dayfor the Woodcock reserves, as I calledthem. When I entered the brush, howI thrilled with the prospect of finding aWoodcocks nest this time, before theeggs were hatched! I made a bee linefor the spot where last years nest waslocated, but saw no trace of bird life ex-cept a few juncoes that were scratchingabout in brush heaps. It seemed as if Ihad examined every foot of ground inthe grove and was about to depart, whena sudden wh-r-r-r-r-r caused me to leapto a height that w
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