160 BEAUTIFUL BIRDS 
than at any other time. Ah, what a wonderful 
sight that must be to see — those fights between 
little fiery, winged meteors, those jewel-combats in 
the air—diamond and ruby and sapphire and topaz 
and emerald and amethyst, all angry with each other, 
shooting out sparks at each other, trying to blind 
each other, to flash each other down! Ah, those are 
fiery battles indeed, and yet when they are over— 
you will think it wonderful—not one Humming- 
bird has been burnt up by another one. No, Hum- 
ming-birds do not kill each other, they do not even 
hurt each other very much, they are only angry, 
and even that does not last very long. We are 
not very angry with the poor Humming-birds, | 
even think we must be fond of them, for there is 
really hardly one that we have not called by some 
pretty name, though not nearly so pretty as itself. 
And yet we kill them, we take away those bright 
little gem-like lives that are so lovely and so happy. 
The people who live in those countries make very 
fine nets—as fine and delicate as those that ladies 
use for their hair—and put them over the flowers 
or the shrubs that the Humming-birds come to, so 
that they get entangled in them and cannot fly 
away. Then, when they come and find them, they 
kill them (could you kill a living sunbeam ?), and 
send their skins over here to be put into the hats of 
