BIRD ENEMIES. og 
would snatch off a cherry, as if the act was some re- 
lief to their outraged feelings. 
The chirp and chatter of the young of birds which 
build in concealed or inclosed places, like the wood- 
peckers, the house wren, the high-hole, the oriole, ete., 
is in marked contrast to the silence of the fledgelings 
of most birds that build open and exposed nests. 
The young of the sparrows, — unless the social spar- 
row be an exception, — warblers, fly-catchers, thrushes, 
etc., never allow a sound to escape them ; and on the 
alarm note of their parents being heard, sit especially 
close and motionless, while the young of chimney swal- ) 
lows, woodpeckers, and orioles are very noisy. The 
latter, in its deep pouch, is quite safe from birds of 
prey, except perhaps the owl. The owl, I suspect, 
thrusts its leg into the cavities of woodpeckers and 
into the pocket-like nest of the oriole, and clutches 
and brings forth the birds in its talons. In one case 
which I heard of, a screech-owl had thrust its claw 
into a cavity in a tree, and grasped the head of a red- 
headed woodpecker ; being apparently unable to draw 
its prey forth, it had thrust its own round head into 
the hole, and in some way became fixed there, and had 
thus died with the woodpecker in its talons. 
The life of birds is beset with dangers and mishaps 
of which we know little. One day, in my walk, I 
came upon a goldfinch with the tip of one wing se- 
curely fastened to the feathers of its rump, by what 
appeared to be the silk of some caterpillar. The 
bird, though uninjured, was completely crippled, and 
could not fly a stroke. Its little body was hot and 
panting in my hands, as I carefully broke the fetter. 
Then it darted swiftly away with a happy cry. A 
record of all the accidents and tragedies of bird life 
