HUMMINGBIRDS 



was hurrying toward my Kartabo laboratory to 

 escape an impending storm, when I was suddenly 

 halted by a sharp squeak at my very elbow. I 

 froze into a semblance of a khaki tree-trunk and for 

 fifteen minutes forgot to move or breathe. 



In the path of the squall there materialized in 

 mid-air a Rufus Hermit. (Now that the succeed- 

 ing fifteen minutes are speeding into past time, 

 and I am sitting quietly thinking over this un- 

 believable experience, I parenthesize the necessary 

 information that this Guianan hummingbird is 

 Phoethornis ruber episcopus Gould. This name, 

 as you see, occupies two inches of type, whereas 

 his whole length from beak to tail-tip is only an 

 inch longer.) 



The feathered atom hung motionless before me 

 for a few seconds, then sank to a twig near the 

 ground about six feet away. Instantly a second 

 hummingbird appeared, of brighter hue, apparently 

 a male, and the courtship began. It was divided 

 into three distinct phases, each of which seemed 

 a climax in itself — each more astounding than the 

 preceding. 



For a few moments the newcomer hung sus- 

 pended, turning very slowly in all directions, while 

 I relaxed into a position which I could hold with- 

 out danger of sudden movement. The hermit 

 then sank gently and as steadily as if lowered by 

 the guiding thread of some unseen manipulator of 

 marionettes. Faced towards the perching female, 

 but about a foot in front and above her, he began 



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