A MKR I CA N O RNJ TIIOL O G > '. 



69 



The males ha\e perfect control of 

 the feathers forming their crest, 

 even to extending them forward so as 

 to touch the bill. During the mat- 

 ing season the\' use this to good ad- 

 vantage to give expression to their 

 words of love. Thev are very pug- 

 nacious at this time, and combats 

 between the males are frequent. 

 The mother shows great anxietv 

 about the safet)' of her little ones, 

 and employs all manner of tactics to 

 enable them to escape. Owing to 

 their habit of running from danger, 

 and of roostaig in trees at night, 

 which they do when the localitv is 

 favorable, these attractive game 

 birds are on the increase. 



Winter Visitors. 



One cold dav last March, when 

 the thermometer was hovering close 

 to zero and the ground was covered 

 by an icy coating of snow, a flock 

 of Redpolls came to visit me. The\- 

 were very tame and particularU' 

 one, who worked for hours in the 

 wheel-ruts of the dri\ewa\'. He 

 seemed so indifferent to my pass- 

 ing to LUid fro, that 1 became con- 

 vinced he was either numbed by 

 the extreme cold or perhaps had 

 someth'ng the matter with his eyes, 

 so 1 thought 1 would tr\- to catch 

 him, bring him in where it was 

 warm, and feed him. It proved to 

 be an easier task than 1 had expect- 

 ed. Creeping cautiousK' up to the 

 unsuspecting little Redpoll, 1 quick- 

 ly seized him in mv hand and car- 

 ried him into the house, where I 

 put him into a cage provided with 



seed and water. He did not seem 

 at all afraid in his new surround- 

 ings, but immediately began eating 

 as though he was half starved. At 

 intervals he would fl_v against the 

 bars of the cage in his attemps to 

 regain his freedom and then, seem- 

 ingly forgetting about it, return to 

 his feast of canar\' seed. When 

 darkness came, he tucked his head 

 under his wing and went to sleep. 

 The next day as the weather had 

 moderated, 1 gave him his liberty. 

 But instead of fl\'ing away as I had 

 expected, he continued to feed 

 about the grounds, even if some- 

 what more timid, for several days, 

 when he disappeared, probablv hav 

 ing joined his mates. 



Miss Rachel Lowell. 



A Virginia. Turkey Hunt. 



"Pardner, let's do the Turkevs a 

 turn today," said my friend, John 

 Se_\-mour, to me one fine morning 

 in late fall. He himself was a tvp- 

 ical Southern gentleman of rather 

 an inactive temperament, although 

 a great Nimrod. 1 had been stay- 

 ing at his residence on the historic 

 James for some days, but thus far 

 only squirrel, quail and hare had 

 fallen victims to my amateur efforts 

 at gunning. Of course I readily 

 consented to mv friend's plan, and ten 

 minutes later saw us provided with 

 guns and a good supply of shells, 

 loaded with BBs and buck shot, for, 

 in that sparsely settled country the 

 chance of seeing a deer is great 

 enough to warrant being prepared 

 for such an event. 



