310 THE KINGBIRD. 
plause. This feathered Napoleon has no such spectacular way of announcing 
the realization of his paternal hopes, but the bird world nevertheless soon 
guesses the secret. If the tyrant was critical before, he is choleric now; for 
the whips of discipline he substitutes scorpions. He has the dignity of a 
whole royal family to maintain. On that glad day he thrashes two Sparrow 
Hawks and puts a flock of Crows to flight in sheer exuberance of 
spirits. 
It is easily possible, however, to exaggerate the pugnacity of the King- 
bird, or to infer from extreme examples that all are quarrelsome. It is not 
unusual for Kingbirds to be on the best of terms with their immediate neigh- 
bors, thieves always excepted. I once found in one small poplar tree the 
nests of three birds, each containing eggs, viz., a Robin, an Oriole, and a 
Kingbird. The two latter were within five feet of each other. Dr. Brewer 
also records an exactly similar case. Kingbird’s courage, which is unques- 
tionable, is often tempered by prudence, altho at other times it quite over- 
balances his better judgment. The Burrowing Owl of the West will tolerate 
none of his nonsense, and I have seen the birds make sad mistakes in molesting 
these virtuous mousers. ‘The sight of a Shrike will make a Kingbird shrink 
into the smallest possible compass. Catbirds, too, are said ta be, for valid 
reasons, quite exempt from their tyranny. 
The food of the Kingbird consists entirely of insects, caught on the wing 
for the most part, by sallies from some favorite perch. His eyesight must be 
very good, as he not infrequently spies his prey at distances of from twenty 
to fifty yards. Honey bees form an occasional but inconsiderable article of 
diet. Both in the taking of food and in the discharge of police duties the 
Kingbird exhibits great strength and swiftness as well as grace in flight. Once 
when passing in a canoe through a quiet weed-bound channel near the Mus- 
kingum river, I was quite deceived for a time by the sight of distant, white- 
breasted birds, dashing down to take insects near the surface of the water, 
and even occasionally dipping under it. They had all the ease and grace of 
White-bellied Swallows, but proved to be Kingbirds practicing in a new role. 
This fondness for the water is often exhibited in the bird’s choice of a 
nesting site. Ordinarily orchard or shade trees, or the more prominent mem- 
bers of neglected hedge-rows are preferred, but on several occasions I have 
found nests on low-swinging horizontal branches overhanging the water, and 
thrice, at least, in tiny willow clumps entirely surrounded by it. ‘The nest 
of the Kingbird sometimes presents that studied disarray, which is considered 
by some the height of art. Now and then a nest has such a dishevelled appear- 
