150 THE MALE RUBY-THROAT. 



my whole stay he did not once go to the ap- 

 ple-tree, although, for want of anything bet- 

 ter to do, I again scrutinized its branches. 

 This time I was discouraged, and gave 

 over the search. His secret, whatever it 

 might be, was "too dear for my possessing." 

 But my fellow-observer kept up his visits, 

 as I have said, and the hummer remained 

 faithful to his task as late as July 15th, 

 at least. 



Some readers may be prompted to ask, as 

 one of my correspondents asked at the time, 

 whether the mysterious sentry may not have 

 been the mate of our home bird. I see no 

 ground for such a suspicion. The two 

 places were at least a mile apart, as I have 

 already mentioned, and woods and hills, to 

 say nothing of the village, lay between. If 

 he was our bird's mate, his choice of a picket 

 station was indeed an enigma. He might 

 almost as well have been on Mount Wash- 

 ington. Nor can I believe that he had any 

 connection with a nest found two months 

 afterward in a pitch-pine grove within a 

 quarter of a mile, more or less, of his clear- 

 ing. It was undoubtedly a nest of that sea- 

 son, and might have been his for aught I 



