210 IN BIRD LAND. 
mother to her offspring. Do not ask me why, for I 
am not writing a philosophical thesis. 
Birds have many natural enemies. I can still hear 
the cries of a young bird that a sparrow-hawk had 
seized in his talons and was bearing overhead. 
What a savage cannibal he seemed to be! Not for 
anything would I cast undeserved odium on the re- 
putation of any bird, but I fear very much that the 
blue jay is both a robber and a murderer. In the 
season when eggs and young birds are in the nest, 
he has a sly, hang-dog air, which, to my mind, pro- 
claims not only a guilty conscience, but also a sinis- 
ter purpose. At other seasons he seems to have an 
open, frank manner. It is true, I myself have never 
seen him in the very act of robbing a fellow-bird’s 
nest, but I have often seen pewees, vireos, sparrows, 
and goldfinches charge upon him with desperate fury 
when he came in the vicinity of their homesteads. 
Indeed, all the smaller birds seem to have a mortal 
terror of him, which can be accounted for only on 
the ground that he is known to be a highwayman. 
A farmer friend, who loves the birds, and has none 
of the unreasoning prejudice against them sometimes 
displayed by country folk, told me that he once saw 
a blue jay pounce upon a chippie’s nest, snatch up a 
callow bantling in his bill, and fly off with it across 
the field to his nest. In afew moments he returned, 
and bore away another nestling. By this time the 
farmer’s ire was aroused, and he got his gun and put 
an end to the feathered brigand’s life on his return 
for the third mouthful. This is more than circum- 
