26 The Sheep-Fluke. 



attracted. Matters went on well for a day or two, until one morning 

 the nest was missing ; only the basement remained. AVho or what the 

 marauder was that tumbled the nest into the water below I could not 

 make out— perhaps it was the wind, which blew strongly those days. These 

 were young and inexperienced birds may be, for I suspect that the older and 

 wiser heads among them build on higher and more inaccessible limbs. This 

 disheartening disaster, however, did not discourage my birds ; they began 

 another nest in the same tree, higher up and farther out over the water, 

 thinking no doubt the new location would be free from danger. But, alas ! 

 No sooner was the nest done, and one egg laid, than another misfortune 

 befel. The nest stayed well enough this time — it was the egg that went 

 a-missing ! I strongly suspected a Butcher-bird that I saw hanging about 

 the neighbourhood, but as I could not fetch the matter home to him I fore- 

 bore the retribution I have little doubt he deserved. I deliberated a few 

 seconds along the barrel of my gun, but lowered it without pulling the 

 trigger. The Pee-wees loitered about for a day or two longer, hesitating to 

 try fortune again in the fatal willow, and then disappeared. 



It was their disappearance from the willow region that marked the advent 

 of my study-window pair, and very likely this was the same unfortunate 

 pair. Their misfortunes appealed to me, and I determined to stand by them 

 in their new venture, seeing that they had, as it were, observed my interest in 

 their aflairs, and appealed in this direct manner to my protection. 



This time, as if taught by sad experience, they located the nest fully 60 

 feet from the ground. They did not consult me in this, and I did not under- 

 stand their language sufficiently well to protest. I would have much pre- 

 ferred a better view of the proceedings, and should have urged that my pro- 

 tection would be somewhat in inverse ratio to their distance from the ground, 

 and I should have argued that in an emergency it would be risky for me to 

 trust my 12 stone weight on so small a bough at such a dizzy height. 



However, the nest grew apace. The first day only a little cement of mud 

 was plastered into a fork and along two small branches for a few inches. 

 By night-fall the only indication of a result to a mundane observer was what 

 appeared to be a daub of blackish paint on the grey, smooth-barked boughs. 

 The second day this daub grew to the size of a hen's egg. 



Both birds worked industriously, but it was clear that the male took 

 charge of affairs, and plainly thought he knew more about building a house 

 than his wife did. A lady friend remarks to me, with sly sarcasm, that she 

 thinks this is characteristic of males. Frankly, 1 agree with her fully when 

 she says that women ought to, and often do, know more about domestic 

 architecture than men, and I pause to wonder "Why in the name of domestic 

 bliss, are'nt there more woman architects ? " Well, Pee-wees evidently 

 hav'nt advanced in this line any farther than mankind has. I must say 

 that Mr. Pee-wee had occasionally some cause for complaint, for the wife 

 did sometimes drop unconscionably large pieces of mortar, which went 

 tumbling pell-mell to the ground. On such occasions he would rush at her 

 and drive her off the bough with actions that said as plain as words, " Here, 

 you're a duffer at that business ; let me do it ! You go along and bring 

 some more mud !" which she generally did. When she was gone he would 

 sing out occasionally in a high whistle as he plastered away. I fully believe 

 he was calling to her for more mud or straw, as the case might require. 

 " Mud !" he seemed to call, as he paused for a second to inspect his work, or 

 " Straw ! Straw !" Occasionally, when both were present at the nest, it was 

 most amusing to hear the male twitter as he stooped over the work, calling 



