Notes from Field and Study 



419 



disturbed or the nest robbed. The brood- 

 ing Duck would frequently sit absolutely 

 motionless, apparently without winking 

 an eye, with her head out of the entrance 

 of the hole, for some length of time. She 

 soon grew accustomed to the presence of 

 the campers, but when, she left the nest 

 temporarily she circled warily around the 

 tree-tops several times before re-entering 

 the nest. One Sunday afternoon, while the 

 two Ducks were feeding in the bay in front 

 of the cottage, some miscreant fired at the 

 drake with a rifle, whereupon he squawked, 

 rose with his mate, and the drake was seen 

 no more. Whether he was injured or not 

 it is impossible to say. In July it is com- 

 mon for the drakes of certain species to 

 flock by themselves, and this might pos- 

 sibly explain why he left his mate. 



The Duck, however, was seen attending 

 to her duties as usual, and the incubation 

 was uninterrupted. On the afternoon of 

 July 7 the old Duck was seen at the foot 

 of the tree, standing on the ground. She 

 gave severa low quacks or calls, and out 

 of the hole in the tree overhead promptly 

 tumbled about a baker's dozen of fledgling 

 Ducks. The}' were unable to fly but were 

 sufiiciently grown to be able to ease their 

 fall to the earth, and, not unlike a flock of 

 butterflies, they came down pell-mell, 

 fluttering and tumbling, some of them 

 heels over head, until they reached the 

 ground, unharmed. The tree was nearly 

 but not quite perpendicular, so they were 

 unable to scramble down. The old bird 

 gathered them in a bunch and piloted 

 them along the fence for some 3 or 4 rods 

 to the river. Down the rocky shore they 

 went anfl into the water. The old Duck 

 then sank low in the water and the duck- 

 lings gathered over her back in a compact 

 clump, She took them across the bay to 

 a bed of rushes, some 10 rods distant, 

 where they disappeared from sight. An 

 attempt was made to count the brood Init 

 their movements were too rapid, and, 

 naturally, during the incubation period 

 no effort was made to inspect the nest for 

 fear of frightening the birds away. Since 

 no evidence of unhatched eggs was ob- 

 tained, the inference would be that the eggs 



were all successfully hatched. Whether the 

 method adopted of bringing down the 

 young was the usual and customary one 

 or otherwise, I am unable to say, but that 

 this was the plan adopted in this particular 

 instance is established beyond question. — 

 W. N. Macartney., M.D., Ft. Coving- 

 ton, N. Y. 



The Birds I Watch frorn My Window 



A few years ago, when we moved from 

 the village to a new house on the hill, the 

 only tree of any size that graced (or dis- 

 graced, some people thought) our lawn, 

 was a weather-beaten old apple tree, so 

 old that the trunk was split through the 

 center clear to the ground, causing each 

 half to lean drunkenly in an opposite 

 direction. It was so rotted and worm- 

 eaten that scarcely anything but the shell 

 remained — too far gone to be cemented 

 and reclaimed. In spite of "fuel conserva- 

 tion," the old tree still stands, and though 

 every fierce wind shakes it to its roots, it 

 still serves as a fine lunch-table to all the 

 birds that come for food. I fasten suet on 

 a lower limb; also, a lid from a tin pail 

 was nailed fast to the same branch, and 

 makes a fine container for crumbs, cracked 

 corn, and the like. The knot-holes and 

 many cracks in the bark I fill with pea- 

 nuts, cracked hickory nuts, and other 

 nuts, and the feast is ready. From early 

 morning until sundown there is scarcely 

 an hour that from three to five different 

 kinds of birds may not be seen feeding hap- 

 pily together. Last winter (1916 and 1917) 

 was the banner year as to variety. From 

 December i to March 15 I identified fif- 

 teen different kinds. On the morning of 

 December 30 a lone Robin made his first 

 appearance. It was extremely cold, and 

 poor Redbreast looked decidedly unhappy, 

 as though he realized he had made a ser- 

 ious mistake in experimenting with a 

 northern winter. He came occasionally 

 after that, but was not a regular visitor. 

 Of course there are flocks of English Spar- 

 rows, but, unlike many other observers, I 

 have never seen them drive away other 

 birds, though they quarrel fiercely among 



