The habits and movements of Bachman's Warbler are in some respects peculiar and characteristic. It does not flit from twig to twig nor launch out after flying insects in the manner of most Warblers, and many of its motions are quite as deliberate as those of a Vireo. Alighting near the end of a branch it creeps or sidles outward along a twig, and bending forward until the head points nearly straight down, inserts the bill among the terminal leaflets with a peculiar, slow, listless motion, keeping it there a second or two, and repeating the leisurely thrust many times in succession without changing its foothold. The action is like that of several other members of the genus--notably _H. pinus_ and _H. chrysoptera_--under similar conditions, and suggests the sucking in of liquid food, perhaps honey or dew. Not infrequently a bird would hang back downwards beneath a twig and feed from the under sides of the leaves in the manner of a Titmouse. * * * Many of the hackberry trees along the banks of this stream contained compact bunches--nearly as large as a child's head--of dead leaves blackened by exposure to wind and weather. These bunches probably sheltered insects or their larvae, for they attracted several species of birds, especially the Bachman's Warblers which would work at them minutes at a time with loud rustling, sometimes burrowing in nearly out of sight and sending the loosened leaves floating down to the ground. Upon exhausting the supply of food or becoming tired of the spot--whether one of the leaf bunches or the extremity of a cypress branch--the bird almost invariably started on a long flight, often going hundreds of yards through the woods or crossing the river, instead of merely passing to the next branch or tree as almost any other Warbler would have done under similar circumstances. This habit seemed to us characteristic of the species. Atkins wrote from Key West (Scott, 1890):