bird whose plumage was rather mussed, and as the female would naturally not look quite so slick, after her setting, as the male, we put this bird down as the female. Then, too, she seemed to be not quite so matter-of-fact and business-like in her habits, there being more femininity about her which expressed itself in the way she loitered by the nest, often flying past just above the nestlings' heads, a thing the slick bird never did. Several things in our subsequent watching proved, to our own satisfaction, that this was, indeed, the female bird, one being that the well-kept bird was the singer.
In the three hours that I first watched at the nest the birds fed fifty-four times, an average of three and one-half minutes apart. The shortest interval was one-half minute, the longest nine minutes. The male fed about twice as often as the female. Several times they both came at once with their offerings. It was amusing to see them hurry at these times. The bird that came first always shortened its preliminaries when it saw its mate coming, and the last bird arriving, seeming to fear it would be left behind in the feeding, did not stop for any extra flitting about, but in a grand scramble both birds made a rush for the nest, arriving, usually, at about the same time and feeding at once. Tho we could see the wabbly heads stretched up and the big mouths opened to receive the food, we could not tell whether there was any method or regularity pursued by the parents in feeding.
At ten o'clock the sun beat down upon my shoulders relentlessly. I had been slipping along on the big stone on which I rested, striving to keep out of its pitiless rays, but only successful for a few minutes. The nest at this time was also in the sun and I knew how to sympathize with the helpless nestlings who were unable to slip away from its hot rays. At four minutes past ten, the father came to feed. He seemed to take in the situation for, having fed, lie slipped onto the nest and sat lightly above his skinny babies. For five minutes he shielded them before the mother came, when he slipped off and was away while the female took her place on the nest and shielded the young with out-stretched wings. One little fellow showed from my side of the nest as he stretched up to reach the shadow made by his mother.
The female stayed eleven minutes on the nest this time and three times the male brought her food which she in turn fed to the nestlings beneath her. At the expiration of the eleven minutes she left the nest and did not come back for ten minutes. During her absence the male fed four times, but did not attempt to shelter the nestlings at this time. However, in the hour that I watched in the sun the male took the nest four times, remaining, with the exception of the first time, not more than two minutes, and generally leaving when the female came. Once, however, he sat on the nest and she fed a young bird beneath him. It was interesting to note that when the female was on the nest the male always gave the food that he brought, to her, while the female did not give hers to the male but directly to the young.
The call note of these gnatcatchers is a twanging one: a nasal "tzee" given sometimes once, sometimes several times in rapid succession. This nasal note is usually kept up while the little sprites are foraging for food, but we noticed that they were rather quiet about the nest. Quite often, but not always, the male gave the single "tzee" just before feeding the young; on the contrary the female gave it, if at all, after feeding, as she left the nest. Twice in the course of my watching, I heard the male's song. It was a low warble with something of the nasal twanging about it; still, on the whole, it was very pretty.
On the morning of July 11, as I climbed the hill that led to the nest shortly after six o'clock, I heard the gnatcatchers making a great commotion, and coming in sight of a small tree I saw that some large bird was making all this trouble.
