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60 THE CONDOR Vol. XVI nesting site of a Northern Pileated Woodpecker (Ceophloeus pileatus abieticola), in a lofty naked tree trunk, was found deserted; cobwebs covered the former nesting holes of White-headed Woodpeckers (Xenopicm? albolarvatus) in a much-chopped dead tree; and the Townsend Solitaires (Myadestes townsendi) had wilfully departed from the region that Carriger had specifically assigned to them. Although bird-life was abundant, I soon learned that nests of any sort were difficult to find, owing to the density of the foliage. Even when located they were often next to impossible to reach, for here the pines, firs and cedars spear cloudward to such heights that one gazes up at them in wonder, like Gulliver in the gigantic woods of Brobdingnag. At various times could be heard the rare song of the Sierra Hermit Thrush (Hylocichla guttara sequoiensis) which, strangely enough, while previously un- recorded here, I found quite abundant. A Western Tanager was noted nest- buildir,g in a tall conifer, and both purple finches, Cassin and California (Car- podacus cassini and C. pltrp?trelts califor?l.ic.tts), were in evidence, and singing, I thought, distinctive songs. Some days later I noted the third member of the group (C. mexicanus frontalis), so this genus is well represented here. Of groundloving birds the Spurred Towhee was by far the most common, with the Sierra Junco (Junco hyemalis thurberi) a poor second, for it is only in the high- er altitudes that the latter is found in such great numbers. While breaking my way through dense undergrowth, the wild cries of a pair of hawks as they swept through and above the timber attracted my attention. Their conspicuously white underparts proclaimed them American Ospreys (Pan- dion carolinen,?is), and while they seemed strangely out of place so far inland, I remembered that Barlow had previously recorded them from a point not far from here on the American River. I was now on the floor of a wide canyon to which the wooded mountains on both sides gradually sloped, while above, the leafy pavilions towered so close and high that only glimpses of the surrounding coun- try could be had, with but small patches of sky above. On working up the south slope the Ospreys became still more wildly excited, but as they remained in the air continuously I was unable to learn the cause of their extreane displeasure. Several likely-looking, bulky affairs of sticks and twigs burdened lofty boughs above, but feeling unable to accomplish anything in Raptorian collecting here without equipment (or perhaps even with it!), and as it was, too, nearly dusk I was about to start back to the "Hall" when a small warbler, by its continued presence in the immediate vicinity arrested my attention. The individual, which looked dangerously (and gloriously!) like a female Hermit Warbler, remained about twenty-five feet up, and although it flitted from bough to bough and branch to branch, it never wandered far away. To un- trained eyes it would have appeared unconcerned, but to. another than a novice its actions were decidedly suspicious, and called for narrow and patient watch- ing. After a time, however, the bird disappeared, but a slow, laborious, and careful search revealed a' small warbler-like nest woven to a slender, overhang- ing yew branch fourteen and a half feet up. On reaching a point above the nest I was a?ble to see it held a complement of five eggs, but as my bird had not re- turned, and as it was almost dark, I decided to postpone further investigation until the next morning. When I reached the locality early in the forenoon of the next day (May ?4), the noisy pair of Ospreys were nowhere in sight. A sitting bird slid off as I approached the warbler nest, and lit on a branch close-by. To me it was an anxious moment, but my guess of the day before proved correct. The bird, a fe-