34 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



a while, he would be compelled to "back down." 

 But retaliation was then easy, and I fear his mates 

 spent few easy moments at that lookout. They 

 would close their eyes and slide back into the cavity 

 as if the world had suddenly lost all its charms for 

 them. 



This bird was, of course, the first to leave the 

 nest. For two days before that event he kept his 

 position in the opening most of the time and sent 

 forth his strong voice incessantly. The old ones 

 abstained from feeding him almost entirely, no doubt 

 to encourage his exit. As I stood looking at him 

 one afternoon and noting his progress, he suddenly 

 reached a resolution, — seconded, I have no doubt, 

 from the rear, — and launched forth upon his untried 

 wings. They served him well, and carried him about 

 fifty yards up-hill the first heat. The second day 

 after, the next in size and spirit left in the same 

 manner ; then another, till only one remained. The 

 parent birds ceased their visits to him, and for one 

 day he called and called till our ears were tired of 

 the sound. His was the faintest heart of all. Then 

 he had none to encourage him from behind. He 

 left the nest and clung to the outer bole of the tree, 

 and yelped and piped for an hour longer; then he 

 committed himself to his wings and went his way 

 like the rest. 



A young farmer in the western part of New York, 

 who has a sharp, discriminating eye, sends me some 

 interesting notes about a tame high-hole he once had. 



"Did you ever notice," says he, "that the high- 



