116 WILD SCENES AND SONG-BIKDS. 



hours together, and we observed that at these times they darted 

 straight up into the air until they were out of sight before 

 they took their course, so that watch as we might we never 

 could find out which way they went. They also adopted 

 the same precaution in returning, when they seemed to fall 

 perpendicularly from the clouds. They did not appear any 

 the less tame for all this but, though I tried in every pos- 

 sible way to find out their secret, yet they entirely baffled 

 me, and I am not sure that I ever saw their brood even 

 though about the time when they ought to have been out 

 we used to notice more birds than we could well account for 

 around the white cup in the cage ; yet, as those strangers ap- 

 peared to be somewhat shy, we did not press an acquaint- 

 ance. It was nothing more than a conjecture on our part, 

 that these were the new brood of our pets ! 



But I am getting a little ahead of my story in events. I 

 have mentioned that we had vowed to have a nest of ruby- 

 throats added to our collection this Spring, and in giving a 

 detail of the manner in which I went to work for the accom- 

 plishment of this vow I shall furnish you some idea of the 

 tedious processes of the practical naturalist. 



My father had some men at work "getting out logs" as 

 it is called on a considerable creek some two miles off. 

 One of them, who knew of my passion for these birds, men- 

 tioned to me, that he had twice, while watering his horse at 

 a certain crossing in the woods, observed a humming bird 

 fly past over the middle of the channel and up the stream. 

 This, he said, was about five o'clock, both times. This was 

 enough for me. I ordered my horse, and in a few moments 

 was under whip and spur for it was nearly that time now 

 for this little ford. I reached it a few minutes before five by 

 a bridle path. I sat upon my horse until dusk in the middle 

 of the stream, but no humming bird. Next day I came at 

 noon staid an hour with no avail. I went at four again 

 and staid until half-past five, but still no bird. I was not 

 discouraged, but as I rode slowly home, determined to change 



