It has been my experience that the Great Northern Shrike hunts most successfully when he, so to speak, flies down his prey. If he gets a small bird well started out into the open and with cover at a long distance ahead, the shrike generally manages to overtake and overpower his victim. If the quarry, however, is sought in the underbrush or in the close twined branches of the treetop, it generally succeeds in eluding the butcher. One of the most interesting incidents of all my bird observations was that of the attempted capture by a Great Northern Shrike of a small brown creeper. The scene of the action was near the south end of the Lincoln Park lagoon in Chicago. The creeper was nimbly climbing a tree hole, industriously picking out insects, as is his custom, when a shrike dropped down after him from its high perch on a tree which stood close and overshadowed the one from whose bark the creeper was gleaning its breakfast. The shrike was seen coming. The creeper, for the fraction of a second, flattened itself and clung convulsively to the tree trunk. Then, recovering, it darted to the other side of the hole, while the shrike brought up abruptly and clumsily just at the spot where the creeper had been. The discomfited bird went back to its perch. The creeper rounded the tree once more and down went the shrike. The tactics of a moment before were repeated, the shrike going back to its perch chagrined and empty clawed. Five times it made the attempt to capture the creeper, and every time the little bird eluded its enemy by a quick retreat. It was a veritable game of hide and seek, amusing and interesting for the spectator, but to the birds a game of life and death. Life won. I ever have believed thoroughly that the creeper thought out the problem of escape for itself. The last time the shrike went back to its perch the creeper did not show round the trunk again, but instead flew away, keeping the hole of the tree between itself and its foe. It reached a place of safety unseen. The shrike watched for the quarry to reappear. In a few moments it grew impatient and flew down and completely circled the tree. Then, seemingly knowing that it had been fooled, it left the place in disgust.