440 BULLETIN 17 6, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



day the eyes were fully/ open, and the tawny tips of the feathers began 

 to protrude from their sheaths. But at this stage the nest was in- 

 vaded by fire ants, and my observations temporarily interrupted. 

 Six weeks later the mother returned, repaired the old nest, laid two 

 more eggs, and hatched from them two nestlings, which lived to 

 take wing. They passed through a most eventful infancy, attended 

 by many mishaps and tribulations. First the renovated nest became 

 loose on the supporting stem ; and I was obliged to fasten it up with 

 pins to save the occupants from spilling out. The leaves that had 

 originally shaded it died and fell away with age, exposing the still 

 unf eathered nestlings to the full glare of the afternoon sun. They sat 

 with necks stretched upward, mouths widely gaping, and glassy, 

 staring eyes. Once I saw the mother perch on the rim of the nest 

 with wings partly spread, attempting to shield them from the sun's 

 rays ; but her position was not well chosen and her shadow fell to one 

 side of them, and they continued to pant. Later she covered them 

 on the nest ; but one nestling, pushing its head out between her wing 

 and body, continued to gasp. Fearing they might succumb, I at- 

 tempted to arrange a sunshade ; but I had not yet learned the tough- 

 ness of young hummingbirds. 



Their vitality was amazing. Exposure to the sun, a 4-foot fall 

 when the old nest finally broke to pieces, and repeated handling by 

 fingers many times larger than themselves had not killed them. Now 

 a still more severe ordeal awaited them — 24 hours of rain with hardly 

 a let-up, and some beating tropical downpours in the interval. The 

 mother had definitely ceased to cover them, and the scant foliage of 

 the ramie, which remained above the nest I had improvised for 

 them, afforded slight protection. After a night of this severe pun- 

 ishment, I watched them through much of the dreary day. Wlien the 

 heavy downpours came, and the big drops beat ceaselessly upon them, 

 the 2-week-old birds sat in the improvised nest with eyes closed and 

 bills pointing straight to heaven, shaking their heads from side to 

 side when struck by a particularly large drop. Their budding plum- 

 age gave little comfort; and the cool rain soaked them to the skin. 

 Amazilia attended them faithfully the whole day. At intervals be- 

 tween the heavy showers she came, her black bill dusted with the 

 white pollen of the banana flowers in which she had been probing, 

 perched on the rim of the paper cup, and fed her wet offspring. 

 Often one or the other or sometimes both of the nestlings refused 

 to accept nourishment, when she gently touched its bill once or 

 twice with hers as if to coax it to take food; but often it was too 

 wet and miserable to be tempted. At each visit she ran over the 

 plumage of the nestlings, or a part of the nest, with her tongue, an 

 act I never witnessed in dry weather; and from the way her throat 



