104 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



fledglings just as soon as they can be induced to 

 leave the nest, and doubtless the long-ears do 

 the same. There is not the slightest danger of 

 the hungry dependents getting lost or neglected, 

 for when dusk creeps over the woods, their 

 noisy, plaintive squealing can be heard at a great 

 distance. 



Two well-grown young long-ears one day 

 showed me a glimpse of that selfishness which, 

 much as we would like it otherwise, is really the 

 dominant note in the life of all the creatures. 

 While passing a willow thicket, I noted the two 

 in a poplar tree, a few feet above the ever-pres- 

 ent, dilapidated nest; and as usual they were 

 peering down and stretching themselves 

 mightily. When I dislodged them, they flew 

 weakly off in different directions, but not into 

 the bluff, so I marked the spots where they came 

 to earth and went after them. It was very evi- 

 dent that they had never flown from the tree, 

 but each of them made a seventy-yard flight on 

 this, their first trial. Their flight, it must be 

 admitted, was much more to their credit than 

 their manner of affecting a landing, for like all 

 the fledglings they found flight a natural, un- 



