The Yellow-breasted Chat A Character Sketch By P. A. TAVERNER THE Chat is the most elusive of birds. He is brought up most strictly upon the principle that Chats "should be heard, and not seen," and, unlike the infantile hopeful of the "lords of creation," really learns and practices this version of the old saying most steadfastly. You will hear his voice from a near-by tangle whistling to you. But as you pursue, it passes from bush to bush like a 'Will-o'-the Wisp' leading into all sorts of morasses of blackberry tangle, and mosquitos. Now you hear the bird close, just out of sight behind the foliage; there it will chatter and gurgle, giving fine monologic selections for your benefit, or else taunt you most fearlessly with his private opinion of you, your family, and all your ancestors seriatim in a most provoking manner. He does not deal in broad general- izations, but goes into most minute details of your family history, and most carefully drags into the garish light of day each and every gristly skeleton the family closet most decently strives to hide — the calumniator always keeping just, and only just, out of sight. However cautiously you circle the bush, the result is the same; he is still on the opposite side, until an incautious movement on your part alarms him or perhaps he wearies for the time of the hide-and-seek, and the soliloquy is brought to a finish, and a loud quietness reigns. Perhaps you catch a glimpse of a neutral olive streak crossing just over the tops of the near-by bushes, but more often not, and the only indication of the scoffer's new position is given by the sound of his mocking whistles, and cat-calls from a bushy clump a hundred yards away. The Chat has spells of quietness, too, when one may be for hours in its chosen haunts and not suspect its presence. Then all at once it will start up again and take the most prominent place in the avifaunal chorus. 1 suspect that its mercurial nature is peculiarly susceptible to meteoro- logical changes, for my experience has been that the bird is very noisy at times just preceding a thunder-storm. In fact, I always associate the bird with intense sultry heat, dense shadeless tangle, innumerable mosquitos and big thunder-heads piled up in high masses from the horizon. No bird has a more marked individuality or possesses more of wild charm that, in spite of these usually unpleasant associations, always arouses my enthusiasm and admiration. With his stealthy elusiveness, wild outpourings of song and fund of vituperation, the Chat is a droll imp — a merry troll that "has the recipe for fern seed and walks invisible, yet mocks you from every bush." He is full of life and boiling over with animation. It bubbles out of his throat in all (13O
