n6 Bird Comrades 



looked at him for a moment with a savage glitter in her 

 dark eyes, then began to peck him angrily right in the 

 mouth, and drove him peremptorily backward down the 

 limb. Mother patience has its limitations in the bird 

 world as well as elsewhere. 



On the same day a bank swallow was feeding her little 

 ones, a half dozen or so, which were ranged on a willow 

 stem at the margin of the river. Every time she- flew 

 toward them they set up a vigorous calling to be fed. 

 She procured her food by skimming airily over the river 

 and catching the insects that rose from its surface. Hav- 

 ing nabbed one, she would dart with it to her little 

 family, and, without alighting, and scarcely pausing in 

 her swift flight, would thrust it into the mouth of one 

 of the birdkins. Thus she fed them one by one until 

 she had gone the round of the little circle, though some- 

 times, oddly enough, she would serve the same imant 

 twice in succession. 



The little family, all perched in a row, looked very 

 attractive, and I was watching them closely most of the 

 time. Suddenly the mother bird disappeared, and was 

 gone for several minutes. I forgot to keep my eye steadily 

 on the youngsters sitting six in a row, and, to my great 

 surprise, when she reappeared they had left their perch, 

 which was in plain sight, and I could not rediscover 

 them for some time. Finally, however, I espied them 

 cuddling among some leafy twigs a few feet away, where 

 the mother resumed her duties of purveyor. My opin- 

 ion is that she had begun to feel uneasy for their safety 



