Page:Literary pilgrimages of a naturalist (IA literarypilgrima00packrich).pdf/264

 *thing to do with it, lending to the eye the same thought which the puzzled ear conveys. The yellowthroats are building now, weaving their grass nests in tussocks of swamp grass down by the water's edge, hiding them not so uniquely indeed as the parulas, but almost as well. The spikes of swamp grass grow tall about each nest, and its deep cup if seen at all from the outside is to the eye but a tangle of the last year's grasses, matted down under this year's growth. If I find these nests it is only by looking directly down into the heart of each tussock until I reach the right one. Yet this is not particularly difficult. It means only a little patience in inspection, after the probable neighborhood has been defined by the presence of the birds themselves. The yellow-*throats are shy about their nests. If you inspect them too often they will leave them and begin all over again in a new locality. But, away from the nest, they are an easy bird to see much of. A man in their neighborhood is an object of insatiable curiosity to them, and you do not need to discover them if they are near. Instead they will come, creeping and peering through the bushes,