82 Birds of Lakeside and Prairie 



all the birds of the neighborhood at a distance. A pair of jays 

 had a nest in an evergreen tree not far away, and knowing the 

 jays' thieving proclivities the wood pewees waged constant 

 war against them. The appearance of either one of the pair 

 within twenty yards of the pewees' home was the signal for 

 an attack. The jay always fled. One day three little crea- 

 tures poked their way into the world through the eggshells in 

 the oak tree nest. There were enough insects near the oak 

 tree, apparently, to supply the wants of parents and children. 

 It was seldom that either one of the pewees wandered away 

 from home. I have never been able to explain why it was 

 that on one afternoon as I stood watching the birds, they 

 both left the oak and flew to a catalpa fully fifty yards away. 

 No sooner had the little guardians left their charge than one 

 of the jays came like a flash from the evergreen, and before I 

 could realize what was being done, much less interfere, the 

 three infant pewees were lifted from the nest and dropped one 

 by one to the gravel walk below. The parent pewees soon 

 came back, and their mourning is with me yet. 



In Graceland there is a little lake whose waters and the 

 perfect peace of the surroundings attract many of the wilder 

 birds. One April morning I flushed a woodcock from under 

 the trees on the shore. In the early spring mallards not 

 infrequently rest in the sedges near the little island with its 

 drooping willows. The grebes, that are hunted mercilessly 

 throughout the entire year because women covet their silver 

 breasts for bonnet decoration, make this Graceland pond a 

 resting place for days together while on the weary journey 

 northward. No gun flashes through the bushes on the shore, 

 and the harassed birds find peace and food. Three of the 

 grebes stayed on the waters of the pond for ten days, and 



