BIRDS AND BIRDS 139 



np to see what my motions meant. His forepawa 

 were clasped to his breast precisely as if they had 

 been hands, and the tips of the fingers thrust into 

 his vest pockets. Having satisfied himself with ref' 

 erence to me, he sped on toward the tree. He had 

 nearly reached it, when he turned tail and rushed 

 for his hole with the greatest precipitation. As he 

 neared it, I saw some bluish object in the air closing 

 in upon him with the speed of an arrow, and, as he 

 vanished within, a shrike brought up in front of the 

 spot, and with spread wings and tail stood hovering 

 a moment, and, looking in, then turned and went 

 away. Apparently it was a narrow escape for the 

 chipmunk, and, I venture to say, he stole no more 

 corn that morning. The shrike is said to catch mice, 

 but it is not known to attack squirrels. He certainly 

 could not have strangled the chipmunk, and I am 

 curious to know what would have been the result 

 had he overtaken him. Probably it was only a kind 

 of brag on the part of the bird, — a bold dash where 

 no risk was run. He simulated the hawk, the squir- 

 rel's real enemy, and no doubt enjoyed the joke. 



On another occasion, as I was riding along a moun- 

 tain road early in April, a bird started from the 

 fence where I was passing, and flew heavily to the 

 branch of a near apple-tree. It proved to be a shrike 

 with a small bird in his beak. He thrust his victim 

 into a fork of a branch, then wiped his bloody beak 

 upon the bark. A youth who was witli me, to whom 

 I pointed out the fact, had never heard of sucli a 

 thing, and was much incensed at the shrike. "Let 



