THE INVITATION 209 



Most birds exhibit great alarm and distress, usually 

 with a strong dash of anger, when you approach 

 their nests; but the demeanor of the red-eyed, on 

 such an occasion, is an exception to this rule. The 

 parent birds move about softly amid the branches 

 above, eying the intruder with a curious, innocent 

 look, uttering, now and then, a subdued note or 

 plaint, solicitous and watchful, but making no dem- 

 onstration of anger or distress. 



The birds, no more than the animals, like to be 

 caught napping; but I remember, one autumn day, 

 of coming upon a red-eyed vireo that was clearly 

 oblivious to all that was passing around it. It was 

 a young bird, though full grown, and it was taking 

 its siesta on a low branch in a remote heathery 

 field. Its head was snugly stowed away under its 

 wing, and it would have fallen an easy prey to the 

 first hawk that came along. I approached noise- 

 lessly, and when within a few feet of it paused to 

 note its breathings, so much more rapid and full 

 than our own. A bird has greater lung capacity 

 than any other living thing, hence more animal 

 heat, and life at a higher pressure. When I reached 

 out my hand and carefully closed it around the 

 winged sleeper, its sudden terror and consternation 

 almost paralyzed it. Then it struggled and cried 

 piteously, and when released hastened and hid itself 

 in some near bushes. I never expected to surprise 

 it thus a second time. 



The flycatchers are a larger group than the vireos, 

 with stronger-marked characteristics. They are not 



