4 Massachusetts Audubon Society 



HUMMING BIRDS IN 1921 

 By Grace Sherwood, Jefferson, Ohio 



The 15th of May in this year of grace nineteen hundred and twenty-one 

 came in Sunday. During the preceding week I had kept an eye out, for 

 sometimes a bird comes ahead of schedule time. My watchful waiting was in 

 vain until Sunday, when I thought I heard a bird. As I did not see him I 

 could not be sure of the arrival until the 17th. They were slow in coming 

 this year, and it was the last of May before the stragglers were all in. By 

 that time our porch resembled a full-up convention hall with the delegates 

 all busy. Eight years ago I would not have dreamed such a sight possible 

 outside of the tropics. I never counted more than fifteen birds at any one 

 time, but I know there were many more than that here. The only way I can 

 judge is by the amount of food eaten. Since the experience of two years 

 ago, when one bird came a week ahead of the others, and I found how 

 little he ate, I have estimated roughly from that. 



For several weeks this season they ate from twelve to sixteen ounces a 

 day. There were seven bottles on our porch. One was tied to a branched 

 twig, and then stuck into a jardiniere containing an asparagus fern. For 

 some reason this was a favorite bottle, and it brought the birds very near. 



They pay little attention to mother and me, but it is great fun to see 

 them glare at strangers; the fun is not all one one side, for it is equally 

 funny to watch a person who has never even seen a perching hummingbird, 

 to have one dart in, perch by the bottle and give the intruder simply wither- 

 ing glances between bites! 



I suppose I spend time when I ought to be "saving my soul" in watching 

 our birds. On the afternoon of July 29th, between four and five o'clock, I 

 sat on the porch with pencil and paper in hand. Every time I saw a bird I 

 put down a dash. After fifteen minutes I counted dashes, there were one 

 hundred and forty-four (144). It is difficult to calculate how many birds 

 there really were, as some never got a chance to snatch a bite before they 

 were chased out, while others managed to get a fair installment of their 

 supper. 



Hummingbirds want meals at all hours, but at night and morning they 

 devote themselves to eating with single-mindedness worthy of the cause. At 

 night they eat until they can no longer see the bottles, then I fill them 

 brimming full. If I am awake at daylight I hear them, and by the time I 

 get up the bottles are nearly if not quite empty, and it is not so very late 

 either ! 



I never expected to watch a ruby grow, but one can never tell. I had 

 wondered when the male birds acquired their ruby throats, and now I 

 know. The first suspicion I had was two years ago, when I saw a male bird 

 weeks after the others had gone. He looked like a young one, and it oc- 

 curred to me that his ruby might be new. 



Last year I all but saw the process. When the birds perch to eat, they 

 often pause and lift their heads. One day I happened to be within two feet 

 of a youngster and directly in front of him when he lifted his head and 

 looked at me. There was a tiny ruby patch on his throat about the size of a 

 pin head. After that I watched for him, and saw the ruby grow day by day; 

 when he left it was nearly full size. 



After July the male birds get uneasy. I haven't the faintest idea whether 

 the political situation in Yucatan calls them or if it is baseball. If the for- 



