THE COW-BIRD 



back into the nest, where he remained all day, the Cow-birds stay- 

 ing in the same bush. 



Then came the baby Warbler's picnic. All day the old ones 

 alighted on the nest first when they came with food and if he was 

 ready he got a good share before the vociferous cries of the Cow- 

 birds called them away. The next day he had so improved that 

 he could move about the nest and the Cow-birds, fat and sleepy- 

 eyed, flew to a near-by walnut shrub, where I made a last picture 

 of them. Next day I couldn't find them and when I remarked 

 that they seemed young to join a flock of their kind, Bob looked 

 so peculiar that I lost no time searching. 



"Where do these things belong?" he asked as we gathered up 

 my paraphernalia from the last trip. "Are they protected?" 



"They belong to the Blackbird family and they are," I an- 

 swered. "The law makes two classes, wild and game birds. The 

 section referring to unprotected birds reads, 'House Sparrows, 

 Crows, Hawks, and other birds of prey.' ' 



"Well, if Cow-birds are not birds of prey, I'd like to know 

 what you'd call them," said Bob, "Have you figured it?" 



I had not, but here is Bob's summing up of the situation. 



"I do not know how many there are in the Stanley flock, but 

 the other day I counted over two hundred at Shimps'. It's fair 

 to presume that half of them are females. (jN"ow here is one fe- 

 male that we know in one season has killed three Masked War- 

 blers, two Vireos and one Blue Finch.) If each female of her 

 flock has equaled her record that makes six hundred of our most 

 harmless, inoffensive, dainty, beautiful little songsters wiped out 

 and if all Cow-birds average four eggs apiece there are four 

 hundred of them instead. And Cow-birds are ugly, their little 

 rasping 'Cluck-see-ee!' is no song; instead of rustling for insects 

 that need to be exterminated they sit on the back of a cow eating 



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