The Warbler and His Ways 131 



she came home to feed. She had got quite used to the 

 camera. We had it levelled point-blank at the nest, only 

 a yard distant. A gray figure came flitting over the tree- 

 top and planted himself on the limb right beside his home. 

 He carried a green cutworm in his mouth. No sooner 

 had he squatted on his accustomed perch than he caught 

 sight of the camera. With an astonished chirp he dropped 

 his worm, turned a back somersault, and all I saw was a 

 streak of gray curving up over the pointed firs, I doubt 

 if he lit or felt any degree of safety till he reached the 

 opposite bank of the river. 



We met his lordship again the following day. The 

 mother was doing her best to lure us from the nest by her 

 cunning tricks. Every visit we had made she kept prac- 

 tising the same old game. Just as she was putting on a 

 few extra touches of agony I saw a glint of gray. The 

 father darted at the deceiving mother. I never saw such a 

 case of wife-beating. Maybe she deserved it. I don't know 

 whether he blamed her for my presence and interference, 

 or whether he wanted all her time and attention devoted 

 to the care of the children. She didn't practise deceit 

 any more. 



I could not tell one nestling from the other. As I 

 sat watching the mother the questions often arose in my 

 mind: Does she recognize one child from the other? 

 Does she feed them in turn, or does she poke the food 

 down the first open mouth she sees ? Here is a good chance 

 to experiment I thought. So with a good supply of 5 x 7 

 plates we watched and photographed from early in the 

 morning till late in the afternoon for three days. At the 

 end of that time we had eight pictures, or rather four 



