64 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



other song-birds are shot by boys and pot-hunters 

 in great numbers, — to say nothing of their danger 

 from hawks and owls. But of those that do return, 

 what perils beset their nests, even in the most 

 favored localities! The cabins of the early settlers, 

 when the country was swarming with hostile In- 

 dians, were not surrounded by such dangers. The 

 tender households of the birds are not only exposed 

 to hostile Indians in the shape of cats and collec- 

 tors, but to numerous murderous and bloodthirsty 

 animals, against whom they have no defense but 

 concealment. They lead the darkest kind of pioneer 

 life, even in our gardens and orchards, and under 

 the walls of our houses. Not a day or a night 

 passes, from the time the eggs are laid till the 

 young are flown, when the chances are not greatly 

 in favor of the nest being rifled and its contents 

 devoured, — by owls, skunks, minks, and coons at 

 night, and by crows, jays, squirrels, weasels, 

 snakes, and rats during the day. Infancy, we say, 

 is hedged about by many perils; but the infancy of 

 birds is cradled and pillowed in peril. An old 

 Michigan settler told me that the first six children 

 that were born to him died; malaria and teething 

 invariably carried them off when they had reached 

 a certain age; but other children were born, the 

 country improved, and by and by the babies weath- 

 ered the critical period, and the next six lived 

 and grew up. The birds, too, would no doubt 

 persevere six times and twice six times, if the sea- 

 son were long enough, and finally rear their family. 



