THE BELTED KINGFISHER 163 



a number of times before entering the hole, tho I do not 

 think she ate it. 



When the young were half grown, they usually met their 

 mother at the entrance of the hole. This never seemed 

 to please her very well, for she steadily refused to feed 

 them until they were well back under the ground. Of 

 course this meant that I could not see her feed them at 

 all. A young kingfisher is the most awkward, ungainly, 

 ugly looking bird I have ever seen. Every feature of the 

 old bird is exaggerated in the babies. They have such 

 disportionately small feet and legs, and such ridiculously 

 small naked bodies, crowned with such a large ugly head, 

 that it is hard to see any beauty in them. 



When the young birds were able to fly, which was about 

 the middle of July, I dug out the nest, and it was a 

 filthy sight. Most birds are cleanly in their habits, and 

 are especially particular about their housekeeping, but 

 not so with the kingfisher. The nest hole was a reeking 

 mass of putrified fish, feces, bones, etc. The kingfisher 

 must have a great deal of resistance to disease in order 

 to be able to live and thrive under such filthy conditions. 



The young birds did not remain in the neighborhood of 

 the nest more than a few days, but those few days were 

 busy ones, for in that brief time the mother was teaching 

 her children how to earn a living. She would perch by 

 their side on an overhanging limb and patiently wait for 

 the glimmer of a fish below. The first day or two she 

 usually caught the fish, beat it into partial insensibility and 

 then dropped it again into the water. The young were 

 persistent in their plea for food, but the mother was as 

 insistent that they catch their living if they got any. There 

 was very little current where they hunted, and a fish did 



