STRANGE BED-FELLOWS 



there right before me I saw a flimsy nest of twigs and 

 stems. On it sat a Black-billed Cuckoo, gazing at me 

 in alarm with her large hazel eyes which were bordered 

 by red eyelids. When Ned came up I made signs to 

 him to keep very quiet, so he looked on while I set up 

 the small, long-focus camera on the tripod, with the 

 eighteen-inch lens. Fortunately there was a small 

 opening through the bushes to the nest, with nothing 

 much to obstruct the view, and, after taking one small 

 picture of the bird from where I was, to make sure of 

 something, I pushed the tripod and camera nearer and 

 nearer. At each halt I made another exposure and 

 secured a larger image of the bird on the plate. Of 

 course I was very careful not to rustle the leaves or 

 step on a dry twig or make any sudden motion. The 

 bird actually let me photograph her within four feet 

 before she slipped off the nest and disappeared in the 

 shrubbery. No wonder she was tame, for it was just 

 hatching time. There was one pipped egg in the nest, 

 and one newly hatched young one. When it had 

 crawled out of the shell, it had taken with it the rounded 

 end, which it wore on its head as a close-fitting blue 

 skull-cap, and it certainly looked very comical. While 

 I was at work with the camera, Ned's sharp eyes spied 

 out a Wood Thrush sitting on her nest in a low sapling 

 just outside the brier thicket, not more than twelve 

 feet from the cuckoo's nest. 



A few days later we visited Mrs. Cuckoo again, and 

 found her brooding. She was in a better position, with 



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