The Ruby-Throated Hummingbird 223 



perate thrust, when flying too low, the bird was caught by the beak in the 

 firm meshes of the wire screen, where, after a single effort, he hung quite 

 stunned by the shock. 



Going outside, after hesitating a moment, so frail and intangible a 

 thing it seemed to touch, I gently released the bill and laid the little body, 

 now inert, with limp neck, in my palm. The tiny claws were closed like 

 clenched fists ; had its neck been broken, was it dead ? 



No, for the eyes were open bright, though they did not " u y 9 



, r i i Adventure 



see, and one of the things that I learned years ago 



from that unfailing observer, Dr. Elliott Coues, was that, contrary to 

 other forms of animal life, the eyes of a bird always shut in death. 



As I closed my hand a little, with the natural instinct to brood and 

 comfort the one hurt, I suddenly felt the thump of that mite of a heart, 

 and the head raised a bit and then fell back again, beak parted. \Yater 

 and a grass-blade to carry the water to the beak, drop by drop, was the 

 next step. The bill closed and the water was swallowed until five drops 

 were consumed, quite a draught, all things considered. Another minute 

 and the head was raised. I tried to make a perch of my finger, but it was 

 too large by far. Securing a dry twig from the honeysuckle, I wedged it 

 as well as I could with one hand across a berry basket that was on the 

 porch table, and placed Sir Ruby upon it, setting the basket well into the 

 shade of the vine. 



The claws held firmly to the twig, and the bird settled down sleepily, 

 his only motion being to rub his head (eyes now closed) under one half- 

 raised wing. Then I moved back a few feet and waited. Perhaps two 

 minutes passed when, without warning, Sir Ruby, with a single motion, 

 darted from the vine without even touching the basket's edge, and on 

 across the garden, as good as new. What he thought I cannot know, 

 but I shall never forget the wonderful revelation of the bird world, and 

 reverence for the creative plan complete in so small a frame, that thrilled 

 through me at the beating of that little heart against my palm. 



As housebuilders these Hummingbirds are as unique as in their ap- 

 pearance. Whether the site chosen for a nest be high up almost out 

 of sight, or on a slanting branch close at hand, the nest is usually set 

 astride the limb like a saddle on a horse, instead of being supported by a 

 hand-like series of crotches. An unused nest that I have now before 

 me shows very perfectly the materials from which it 

 was made. Next to the maple branch, less than half 

 an inch thick, is a layer of the soft scales that fall on 

 the opening of spruce-buds ; the body of the nest is of fern-wool, mixed 

 with the down of some composite smaller than the ordinary dandelion. 

 The outside is shingled with cedar-tree moss, as well as a few of the dark 

 scales of spruce-bark. 



In this nest, the edge is quite loose and fluffy, and the structure itself 

 is rather small, being not over an inch above its foundation. In this case, 

 the home was, for some unknown reason, abandoned immediately after 



