THE TRAGEDIES OF THE NESTS. 21 
and I carried it nearly a mile before it flew from my 
open hand.” 
If these observers are quite sure of what they saw, 
then undoubtedly snakes have the power to draw 
birds within their grasp. I remember that my mother 
once told me that while gathering wild strawberries 
she had on one occasion come upon a bird fluttering 
about the head of a snake as if held there by a spell. 
On her appearance, the snake lowered its head and 
made off, and the panting bird flew away. A black 
snake was killed by a neighbor of mine which had 
swallowed a full-grown red squirrel, probably captured 
by the same power of fascination. 
THE TRAGEDIES OF THE NESTS. 
Tue life of the birds, especially of our migratory 
song-birds, is a series of adventures and of hair-breadth 
escapes by flood and field. Very few of them prob- 
ably die a natural death, or even live out half their 
appointed days. The home instinct is strong in birds 
as it is in most creatures; and I am convinced that 
every spring a large number of those which have sur- 
vived the Southern campaign return to their old 
haunts to breed. A Connecticut farmer took me out 
under his porch, one April day, and showed me a 
pheebe bird’s nest six stories high. The same bird 
had no doubt returned year after year; and as there 
was room for only one nest upon her favorite shelf, 
she had each season reared a new superstructure upon 
the old as a foundation. I have heard of a white 
robin — an albino — that nested several years in suc- 
