here, and divide with them the profits which they enjoy. Bank Swallows in sight this moment, with the weather thick, foggy, and an east wind; where are these delicate pilgrims bound? The Black-poll Warbler is more abundant, and forever singing, if the noise it makes can be called a song; it resembles the clicking of small pebbles together five or six times, and is renewed every few minutes.
June 26. We have been waiting five days for wind, and so has the "Gulnare." The fishing fleet of six or seven sails has made out to beat four miles to other fishing grounds. It has rained nearly all day, but we have all been on shore, to be beaten back by the rain and the mosquitoes. John brought a female White-crowned Sparrow; the black and white of the head was as pure as in the male, which is not common. It rains hard, and is now calm. God send us a fair wind to-morrow morning, and morning here is about half-past two.
June 27. It rained quite hard when I awoke this morning; the fog was so thick the very shores of our harbor, not distant more than a hundred yards, were enveloped in gloom. After breakfast we went ashore; the weather cleared up and the wind blew fresh. We rambled about the brushwoods till dinner time, shot two Canada Jays, one old and one young, the former much darker than those of Maine; the young one was full fledged, but had no white about its head; the whole of the body and head was of a deep, very deep blue. It must have been about three weeks old, and the egg from which it was hatched must have been laid about the l0th of May, when the thermometer was below the freezing-point. We shot also a Ruby-crowned Wren;[1] no person who has not heard it would believe that the song of this bird is louder, stronger, and far more melodious than that of the Canary
- ↑ Kinglet, Regulus calendula.—E. C.
