182 STORIES OF BIRD LIFE 



other than Ruffle-Breast, the shrike. She was tugging on 

 one of the limbs at an object which she seemed reluctant 

 to leave. When she flew I found that the burden she had 

 carried to the tree was a chipping sparrow. It had been 

 thrust on a sharp splinter protruding from one of the 

 broken limbs and the bird had already begun to feed upon 

 it. The skull had been broken open at the base. The 

 brains and parts of flesh from the neck had been eaten. 

 A little villain she was indeed ! Yet she was no worse than 

 other shrikes, and during the two years of my acquaint- 

 ance with her she was ever a faithful and gentle mother to 

 her little ones. 



She reared two broods that summer ; the first nest con- 

 taining five eggs, the second six. One spring her second 

 nest was disturbed by a boy who thought it belonged to a 

 mocking bird. He took the eggs, saying that he was going 

 to hatch them under a hen. Ruffle-Breast and her mate 

 then left the orange tree and sought a safer place for their 

 home on the limb of a pine thirty feet from the earth. 



It was interesting to watch these birds fly to their nest. 

 Across the field one would come with rapidly beating 

 wings, flying close to the ground until near the pine, when 

 with a sudden upward sweep it would rise, climbing the 

 invisible ladder of the air to its nest. Sometimes the father 

 bird would attempt to sing in an odd, squeaking, guttural 



