24 BIRDS. 



about them. It was a season of calamities, of violent 

 deaths, of pillage and massacre, among our feathered 

 neighbors. For the first time I noticed that the 

 orioles were not safe in their strong, pendent nests 

 Three broods were started in the apple-trees, only a 

 few yards from the house, where, for previous seasons, 

 the birds had nested without molestation ; but this 

 time the young were all destroyed when about half 

 grown. Their chirping and chattering, which was so 

 noticeable one day, suddenly ceased the next. The 

 nests were probably plundered at night, and doubtless 

 by the little red screech-owl, which I know is a denizen 

 of these old orchards, living in the deeper cavities of 

 the trees. The owl could alight on the top of the nest, 

 and easily thrust his murderous claw down into 

 its long pocket and seize the young and draw them 

 forth. The tragedy of one of the nests was heightened, 

 or at least made more palpable, by one of the half- 

 fledged birds, either in its attempt to escape or while 

 in the clutches of the enemy, being caught and entan- 

 gled in one of the horse-hairs by which the nest w r as 

 stayed and held to the limb above. There it hung 

 bruised and dead, gibbeted to its own cradle. This 

 nest was the theatre of another little tragedy later in 

 the season. Some time in August a bluebird, indulging 

 its propensity to peep and pry into holes and crevices 9 

 alighted upon it and probably inspected the interior; 

 but by some unlucky move it got its wings entangled 

 in this same fatal horse-hair. Its efforts to free itself 

 appeared only to result in its being more securely and 

 hopelessly bound ; and there it perished ; and there its 

 form, dried and embalmed by the summer heats, was 

 yet hanging in September, the outspread wings and 

 plumage showing nearly as bright as in life. 



