An Albino Robin Tragedy 



By R. W. HEGNER 



With photographs by the author 



EVERY year of a bird student's life contains some one incident of special 

 importance which stands out prominently among the events that go to 

 make up the history of his field work. Perhaps it is the discovery of a 

 Ijird new to the locality ; perhaps it is the discovery of a long-sought-for nest. 

 Whatever it may be, it adds to the zest of the student's studies, gives energy to 

 his researches and fills him with new enthusiasm. 



The one event in the year 1901 that will remain longest in my memory is the 

 coming of an albino Robin. It came with hosts of other Robins in the middle 

 of March, and, happily, was one of those that stayed to make their homes with 

 us in the northeastern part of Iowa. 



When first seen, it was busily engaged on the lawn, extracting a long earth- 

 worm which was reluctant to leave its earthy home. Vigorous snappy jerks 

 soon dislodged the victim. A taste for more of the same kind of food w^as evi- 

 dently left in the Robin's mouth, for this lawn after that became its favorite 

 feeding-ground. Each visit gave me an opportunity to grow better acquainted 

 with the white Robin's appearance. It was afflicted with partial albinism. Half 

 of its large wing-feathers were white, and on its head were dots, streaks and 

 blotches of white in place of the usual dark color. The local newspaper called 

 it a freak, but to me it was a most interesting bird whose domestic life I expected 

 to study during the coming spring and summer. 



The joy at discovering this rare bird was increased a few days later when 

 it was seen flying into an evergreen tree just across the road with nesting material 

 in its bill. This tree was not visited for a week for fear of disturbing the nest-build- 

 ing which was evidently going on there. April 23, an examination of the tree 

 brought with it another cause for rejoicing — the Albino proved to be a female 

 and was already incubating tliree pale blue eggs. 



Several days were allowed to pass until the mother bird had become some- 

 what accustomed to her home duties. Then a camera was boldly fastened upon 

 a limb, about four feet from the nest, with a clamp such as is used for fastening 

 a camera to the handle-bars of bicycles. To the shutter of the camera a thread 

 was tied, lowered to the ground, and carefully stretched to a point fifty feet away 

 under a sheltering tree. Here I intended to wait until the Robin returned, then 

 a pull on the thread would release the shutter, and a snapshot of her would be 

 obtained. These plans, however, did not agree with the views of the albino, 

 for she refused to have anything to do with the nest as long as the camera stayed 

 there. Four hours later I retired in disgust. Robins had always been considered 

 easy subjects to photograph, but this albino proved an exception. 



A method was now resorted to which is often used to accustom birds to the 

 presence of a camera. A box which looked like the camera was fastened in the 



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