Biography 35 



she wanted to take care of her eggs, to mother them on to hatching. 

 She was broody. 



Incubation. Although the duty of setting on her clutch for twenty- 

 three or twenty-four long days was bound to be somewhat of an 

 ordeal, her devotion to the job was great enough to overcome any 

 notion of giving up. As the days wore on, her determination to com- 

 plete the incubation, regardless of any dangers that might arise, 

 increased with each slowly passing hour. 



She had hardly begmi setting when it was apparent that she could 

 not get all eleven eggs snugly close to her body for even warmth. So 

 she plucked the feathers from a large part of her lower abdomen, 

 using the feathers to make a softer lining for the nest, forming a 

 large brood spot that enabled her to cover all the eggs evenly. 



Early each morning she would leave the nest soon after dawn, 

 being careful to cover the eggs with dead leaves, to get food and 

 exercise. Habitually she went around behind the birch tree and off 

 down the hill. Just as regularly she returned by way of a little draw 

 on the opposite side of the woods trail. Being anxious not to allow 

 the eggs to chill she would take only twenty or thirty minutes for 

 her meal and toilet. And before settling on the eggs once more she 

 would carefully turn each one over. 



Late each afternoon the young hen again took time oflF from her 

 duties to eat and relax. But apart from these two periods each day, 

 her life was an miending and almost motionless vigil. Life continued 

 as usual all aromid her. The ovenbird and the hermit thrush sang to 

 their mates, who were also incubating nests of eggs among the dead 

 leaves on the ground near by. In the trees above, the black- throated 

 green warblers and the red-eyed vireos sang the whole day long. 

 Squirrels and chipmunks scampered about, scolding at any other 

 creature that came their way. Mice and shrews ran cautiously 

 through the ground litter. Life was good. A feeling of freshness and 

 new vitality was in the air, and it was manifest in the actions of all 

 the woodland folk. When dusk fell, the activity of the day went too. 

 But new creatures were abroad, many of whom she knew instinc- 

 tively were not her friends. Now and then a waddling old skunk 

 would amble by, seemingly not yet fully awake from his long win- 

 ter sleep. And though he occupied himself in digging for grubs and 

 small rodents in tlie humus of the forest floor, she would automati- 



