228 BIRD ENEMIES. 



I imagine the smaller birds have an enemy in our 

 native white-footed mouse, though I have not proof 

 enough to convict him. But one season the nest of a 

 chickadee which I was observing was broken up in a 

 position where nothing but a mouse could have reached 

 it. The bird had chosen a cavity in the limb of an ap- 

 ple-tree which stood but a few yards from the house. 

 The cavity was deep, and the entrance to it, which was 

 ten feet from the ground, was small. Barely light 

 enough was admitted, when the sun was in the most fa- 

 vorable position, to enable one to make out the number 

 of eggs, which was six, at the bottom of the dim inte- 

 rior. While one was peering in and trying to get his 

 head out of his own light, the bird would startle him by 

 a queer kind of puffing sound. She would not leave 

 her nest like most birds, but really tried to blow, or 

 scare, the intruder away ; and after repeated experi- 

 ments I could hardly refrain from jerking my head 

 back when that little explosion of sound came up 

 from the dark interior. One night, when incubation 

 was about half finished, the nest was harried. A 

 slight trace of hair or fur at the entrance led me to 

 infer that some small animal was the robber. A 

 weasel might have done it, as they sometimes climb 

 trees, but I doubt if either a squirrel or a rat could 

 have passed the entrance. 



Probably few persons have ever suspected the cat- 

 bird of being an egg-sucker ; I do not know as she 

 has ever been accused of such a thing, but there 

 is something uncanny and disagreeable about her, 



