CONCEALMENT. 77 



them to regard every thicket as a lurking place of 

 enemies, and every strange object as a deadly foe. 

 It would probably not be far from the truth if 

 we were to say that in general, a bird's mistrust 

 of man varies directly as its bulk ; the smaller 

 the bird, the less its fear. And this would be 

 rendered still more correct by adding the rider, 

 that for the purposes of such comparison the bulk 

 of ground-building birds should be nearly doubled. 

 It will often happen that, although the birds 

 have ceased to fear the tent itself, yet each time 

 the photographer goes inside with his camera, 

 they seem to experience a renewed fit of misgiving 

 or alarm. One might think that they knew of 

 one's presence within, or, at least, that they were 

 not satisfied with the solitary departure of one's 

 assistant ; probably, however, it is the lens that 

 is troubling them. Repeatedly, I have seen a bird 

 come quietly back on to its nest, taking little or no 

 notice of the tent, which had been standing in its 

 place for days, when suddenly it has for the first 

 time caught sight of the staring eye of the camera 

 looking down at it, and with a startled cry it has 

 taken wing. Of course it cannot see much, if 

 anything, of the camera that is within, but the 

 lens must protrude from the tent side, and its 

 eye-like form causes birds much alarm. A 

 shining black convex thing set in a rim, in nature 



