A Gnatcatcher's Troubles 200 



tion of war, no warning. The little bird seemed to take it for granted that 

 the Pewee could see that they had preempted the tree. It was their property; 

 they were building a home upon it, and any bird that had the audacity to 

 perch so near was unacquainted with the commonest woods manners. Back 

 and forth the little thing flew, buffeting the Pewee in the roughest manner. 

 Often his little bill seemed to catch the Pewee on the head or back or side. 

 Still the larger bird obstinately retained his perch, seeming to say, "I am not 

 doing you any harm. This tree is as much mine as yours, and I am not going 

 to leave it." "Squeak, squeak," the little Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher would say, 

 "Get off of here, get away from my property." 



Sometimes the little bird would cut a figure eight. He would strike the 

 Pewee on one side, pass over him, then quickly whirl and catch him on the 

 other side before he could regain his equilibrium. Several times the Pewee 

 was knocked from the limb, but he would instantly return to precisely the 

 same spot. 



Then the little bird tried new tactics. He alighted on the end of the limb 

 on which the Pewee sat and hopped along it silently, approaching nearer and 

 nearer. The Pewee's head was slightly turned away, either through sullenness 

 or contempt. Suddenly the Gnatcatcher made a swift dash at him. This time 

 he caught him square amidship. There was no hesitation on the part of the 

 Pewee. He did not stagger or try to regain his equilibrium. He was knocked 

 off the limb as abruptly as if hit by a rock. No doubt the little bill pierced 

 his side. This time he did not resume his former perch. He flew to the 

 neighboring tree and the Gnatcatcher immediately resumed his work of 

 house-building. 



The little Gnatcatcher's nest is rightly said to be among the most beautiful 

 in bird architecture. While this bird's home was low and for that reason con- 

 spicuous, it was of precisely the same color as the tree on which it was built. 

 I discovered in part the reason. A large portion of the material of which it 

 was built was obtained from other oak trees in the neighborhood. Bits of leaf, 

 small scales of the bark, lichen, bits of wood fiber, all were from oak trees. 

 Hence their successful camouflage. At a casual glance their nest looked like 

 an excrescence on the tree — the exterior rough and the color shaded exactly 

 like the exterior of an oak. 



The next day after the second nest was completed I visited the spot and 

 found that boys had been there with their slingshots. The nest was knocked 

 from its site and hanging in shreds on a twig below. Securing this I tried to 

 ascertain its precise component parts. It seemed impossible. There were 

 doubtless thousands of separate pieces, many of them quite minute. The 

 coarser nest of the Field Sparrow will often contain over two hundred straws 

 or weed-stalks. In this nest there are many very small fibers, some of them 

 plant fibers, intricately woven and entwined about innumerable scales of oak 

 bark and apparently many reddish oak buds ! But the whole texture of the nest 



