n a few days I found my way again to the breezy hilltop. The
chats, vireos, and indigo birds gave due warning of my approach, and I
felt sure that Master Kentucky and his mate would be on their guard. To
my delight, in a few minutes the female presented herself in one of the
trees, her bill holding a bunch of worms. Luckily she was not so wary or
diplomatic as her husband, and, in addition, she extremely anxious to
feed her hungry babies. Instead of going over to the copse where the
male bird had played me such a clever trick, she flew down the path about
four rods to a small scrub oak, from which she soon dropped into the
weeds below. Then I said to myself; "Aha!" and smiled in a knowing way.

I walked down the path to the tree, but no Kentucky warblers were to be
seen--not right away. So I sat down in the path and waited to see what
would happen. It was only a short time till the female appeared, with a
telltale bunch of worms in her beak. A moment later her mate also
arrived, carrying a small worm in the usual way. The situation was
growing interesting. The two birdlets chirped and flitted about in the
tree for a long time, afraid to go down to the nest. I moved slowly and
cautiously farther up the path to give them a better chance to divulge
their secret. Presently the pretty madame summoned courage to drop to a
lower perch in the tree, then to a still lower one, then to the top of
one of the bushes below, and at last into the weed clump and out of sight.

I wasted no time. In a minute I was pressing the weeds apart and looking
down admiringly into the little cot with its four half-fledged
occupants--the first Kentucky warbler's nest I had ever seen. Set upon
the ground, its bulky foundation of dry leaves supported the cup proper,
which was lined with fine grass. Easy enough to find when you knew
precisely where to look for it.

Think now of the little game the male bird had played me on my previous
visits to the haunt! He had descended into the copse about four rods
distant from the nest instead of going down near its site; then he had
doubtless followed a secret pathway through the weeds and bushes to the
nest, fed his children, and hurried away without letting himself be seen.

The parent birds did not like the idea of my finding and inspecting their
nest, for they chirped and darted about in a panic. To relieve their
anguish I retired up the slope a short distance, seated myself in the
pleasan