where the Black Tern Builds 89 



discord came in the shape of an Engh'sh sparrow, who 

 viciously attacked the catbird who had been presumptuous 

 enough to lift its voice in a British sparrow's presence. The 

 American fought faithfully, but it was no match for the heavy- 

 beaked alien. I drove the sparrow away. A few minutes 

 afterward I found its big bulky home in a cherry tree. I tore 

 the nest down and destroyed the eggs. Cruel? Not a bit of 

 it. Cruel to one kind of bird, perhaps, but kindness to an 

 hundred others. Go thou and do likewise. 



At the end of a little lane that leads pastureward from the 

 house is an Osage orange, half tree and half shrub. It is the 

 sole surviving corner-piece of two hedges of bygone days. In 

 this growth was a nest of the loggerhead shrike. This bird 

 spends its winters in the South, but comes to this latitude to 

 breed, replacing here the great northern shrike which comes 

 from the far North in the winter and scurries back Arctic- 

 ward at the first suggestion of spring. The loggerhead lives 

 on small birds, small snakes, and large insects. Being a pre- 

 datory creature, it supposedly should be possessed of some 

 courage, and yet here was a loggerhead shrike that had five 

 dependent young ones in its nest, and still did not dare to come 

 within a field's width of its home while trespassing man was 

 about. A robin or a jay would have been at the post of 

 danger, and if it could have done nothing else, would have 

 roundly berated the intruder. The loggerhead sat on the far- 

 away fence-post and was apparently perfectly unconcerned 

 while effort was made to peek into its nest. Some friends 

 who had joined me undertook to take a snap-shot of the 

 shrike's home and young. The nest was so well fortified with 

 twigs and branches, each of which carried a score of thorns, 

 that the photographing process was beset with difficulties. 



