FIRE PINKS AND HUMMING BIRDS. 99 



in a half circle. What brings him here; the 

 odor of ink or curiosity? At length another of 

 his kind appears. The two dart away and are 

 soon lost to view in the mazes of the air. If on 

 an serial courtship they are bound they will 

 doubtless achieve their mission in life the high- 

 est mission to which any of nature 's objects ex- 

 cept man aspires the choosing of a mate, the 

 perpetuation of their kind that it may not van- 

 ish from the earth. 



The fire pink 39 is about the only plant that 

 adds a tinge of vivid color to the slopes of the 

 old pasture on these June days. Here and 

 there, at wide intervals, a few clumps fling 

 their crimson banners to the skies. Bumble- 

 bees and butterflies are doubtless attracted to 

 them in numbers and a few minutes ago a ruby- 

 throated humming bird poised on brilliant wing 

 and probed their flaming depths. As I go the 

 rounds each morn from one mulberry tree to 

 another seeking crows or squirrels, so this ruby- 

 throat travels from one bunch of fire pinks to 

 another probing their throats for nectar. Here 

 again he comes, his wings invisible, so fast they 

 vibrate. At this flower he darts, then at that, 

 then to one of the bunch over there, then far 

 away through the mazes of the underbrush in 

 search of pastures new. A true woodland sprite 

 is he, seen for but a second or two, then gone. 



* Silene virginica L. 



