This shy forest-dweller is little seen except by the tireless haunter of woods. I well remember my first quest for the owner of a voice that seemed to proceed from every part of the small grove I was searching. His ventriloquistic power led me on until I was about to give up in weariness and discouragement, when suddenly I came upon this golden-crowned warbler that had made the woods ring. He seemed very small for so loud a vocalization. Another day, quite by accident, I discovered his oven-shaped nest: “Arched and framed with last year’s oak-leaves, Roofed and walled against the raindrops.” Since that time I have had numerous views of oven-birds. One in particular, seemed quite unafraid; and several times approached within a few feet of where I was seated. |