BIRDS WITH A HANDICAP 



came with food. After some little waiting, I again 

 heard the buzzing sound. It was the old bird; yet she 

 did not come directly to the nest, but alighted well up 

 in a tree near by. Then she perched on a twig near the 

 nest, where she stood quivering her wings. The young 

 were greatly excited ; they chirped with all their might, 

 quivering with eagerness, and opened their outstretched 

 bills, begging for food. Then the mother hovered close 

 over them, but darted away, not liking the camera. 

 After doing this a few times, she alighted on the branch 

 close to the nest, and I sprung the shutter. Its snap 

 frightened her away, and I changed the plate. She 

 soon returned, and this time I waited till she was in 

 the midst of the feeding comedy before I pulled. 



This is a most remarkable performance. The parent 

 alights on the edge of the nest and stands quietly for a 

 moment, while the young are begging with all the 

 eloquence and earnestness which would betoken a mat- 

 ter of life and death — as it certainly is to them, poor 

 little things! Perhaps she is deciding which youngster 

 to favor and making inward preparation for what 

 naturalists call the act of regurgitation. Selecting the 

 fortunate hopeful, she inserts her bill into the widely- 

 opened mouth and forces it deep down into the anatomy 

 of the youngster. Then she rams it violently up and 

 down, and with each jerk ejects from her crop the 

 luscious nectar, a mixture of partly digested insects and 

 honey. Sometimes she would bring a small whitish 

 insect held at the tip of her bill, but when she fed this 



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