It seemed to be a more retiring bird, never frequenting the houses, but keeping closely to thick and retired woods. Yet it is not a timid species, but seemed entirely unmindful of our presence, or, when mindful of it, to resent it as an impropriety, rather than to fear it as a danger. They apparently had nests or young at the time of my visit, though I could not detect their locality. One pair became at last so annoyed at my prolonged presence as to manifest their uneasiness by keeping within a few feet of my head, following me wherever I went, and without ceasing from their close surveillance until I finally left their grove and emerged into the open country. All the time they brought out the cry of _dēē-dēē_ with a clear, ringing emphasis that was almost startling. A few days later, being at Halifax, Mr. Andrew Downes, the naturalist, took me to the nest of these birds in a small grove in the vicinity of that city. The nest was in a small beech-tree, and had been cut through the living wood. The excavation, which was not more than two feet from the ground, was about ten inches in depth, was in a horizontal position only about two inches, where it turned abruptly downward, and from a width of an inch and a half assumed a width of three, and a depth of seven or eight inches. This was warmly lined with feathers and soft fur. The nest contained young birds. These particulars we only ascertained when we had laid bare the excavation by a sharp hatchet. Though disappointed in our search for eggs, yet we witnessed a very touching manifestation of devotion on the part of the parents, and of neighborly solicitude in various other inmates of the grove, which was at once most interesting and a scene long to be remembered. With all the self-sacrificing devotion of the Black-Cap, these birds displayed a boldness and an aggressive intrepidity that at once commanded our respect and admiration. I never witnessed anything quite equal to it. They flew at our faces, assailed our arms as we wielded the invading hatchet, and it was difficult not to do them even unintentional injury without abandoning our purpose. Before we could examine the nest they had entered, and had to be again and again removed. As soon as we were satisfied that the nest of this heroic pair did not contain what we sought, we left them, and turned to look with equal admiration upon the indignant assembly of feathered remonstrants by which we were surrounded. The neighboring trees swarmed with a variety of birds, several of which we had never before seen in their summer homes. There were the Red-Poll Warbler, the Black and Yellow Warbler, and many others, all earnestly and eloquently crying out shame upon our proceedings.