188 RIVEKBY 



of devoted male birds singing from the branch that 

 holds the nest, or in its immediate vicinity, do not 

 give the birds credit for all the wit they possess. 

 They do not advertise the place where their treasures 

 are hid in this way. See yonder indigo-bird shak- 

 ing out its happy song from the topmost twig of the 

 maple or oak; its nest is many yards away in a low 

 bush not more than three feet from the ground. 



And so with nearly all the birds. The one thing 

 to which they bend all their wits is the conceal- 

 ment of their nests. When you come upon the sit- 

 ting bird, she will almost let you touch her rather 

 than to start up before you, and thus betray her 

 secret. The bobolink begins to scold and to circle 

 about you as soon as you enter the meadow where 

 his nest is so well hidden. He does not wait to 

 show his anxiety till you are almost upon it. By 

 no action of his can you get a clew as to its exact 

 whereabouts. 



The song sparrow nearly always builds upon the 

 ground, but my little neighbor of last July laid the 

 foundations of her domicile a foot or more above the 

 soil. And what a mass of straws and twigs she did 

 collect together ! How coarse and careless and aim- 

 less at first a mere lot of rubbish dropped upon the 

 tangle of dry limbs; but presently how it began to 

 refine and come into shape in the centre ! till there 

 was the most exquisite hair-lined cup set about by 

 a chaos of coarse straws and branches. What a pro- 

 cess of evolution ! The completed nest was foreshad- 

 owed by the first stiff straw; but how far off is 



