88 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



and round, spreading her tail fan-fashion, as if 

 distracted. 



To my surprise, it was the father bird who first 

 went to the nest, though he had the wit to go to 

 it from the outside of the tree, where he was less 

 exposed to my dangerous glance. I wondered 

 whether it was mother love that kept her from 

 the nest when he ventured, or merely a case of 

 masculine common-sense versus nerves. How 

 birds could imagine more harm would be done by 

 going to the nest than by making such a fuss five 

 feet away from it was a poser to me. Perhaps 

 they attribute the same intelligence to us that 

 some of us do to them ! 



While the blackbirds were making such a time 

 over our heads, I watched the hummingbirds 

 buzzing around the petunias and pink roses under 

 the ranch-house windows, and darting off to 

 flutter about the tubular flowers of the tobacco- 

 tree by the well. One day the small boy of the 

 family climbed up to the hummingbird's nest in 

 the oak " to see if there were eggs yet," and the 

 frightened brood popped out before his eyes. 

 His sister caught one of them and brought it into 

 the house. When she held it up by the open 

 door the tiny creature spread its little wings and 

 flew out into the vines over the window. The 

 child was so afraid its mother would not find it 

 she carried it back to its oak and watched till the 

 mother came with food. The hummers were 



