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 4 Bird- Lore were sitting erect, like soldiers, on its further edge in open-mouthed aston- ished protest at their big uninvited, unwelcome visitor. But they were not so fierce as they looked, for they made no attempt to strike my hand when I placed it on their heads. No longer, however, were they silent lookers- on. They at once proved the soundness of their lungs. While my hand was on one he would stop screaming, but start up again at once when it was removed. This time there was a short-tailed shrew and a meadow mouse in the YOUNG BROAD-WINGED HAWKS, DOZING, JUNE I nest. What pellets I examined were, as heretofore, composed of the undi- gested remains of small mammals. I also noticed in the nest a tail-feather of some small bird of the Sparrow kind. June 10 was the day when I thought to get a picture of the old Hawk. Having climbed to the nest and fixed the camera in place of the dummy, I discovered that the burlap covering had accidentally fallen to the ground! I was not at all eager for that extra climb — the day was extremely warm — but there was no escape. At last things were in shape, yet not before the old bird, in response to the incessant calling of her youngest hopeful, had put in an appearance. The other two youngsters were mostly silent observ- ers, but their brother of tenderer days actually screamed himself hoarse. As I sat in cramped position in my hastily constructed booth on