NEW THOUGHTS ABOUT NESTS 



OUR sense of smell is not so keen as that of a 

 dog, who can detect the tiny quail while 

 they are still invisible ; nor have we the piercing 

 sight of the eagle who spies the grouse crouching 

 hundreds of feet beneath his circling flight; but 

 when we walk through the bare December woods 

 there is unfolded at last to our eyes evidence of 

 the late presence of our summer's feathered 

 friends — air castles and tree castles of varied pat- 

 terns and delicate workmanship. 

 . Did it ever occur to you to think what the first 

 nest was like — what home the first reptile-like 

 scale flutterers chose? Far back before Jurassic 

 times, millions of years ago, before the coming of 

 bony fishes, when the only mammals were tiny 

 nameless creatures, hardly larger than mice; 

 when the great Altantosaurus dinosaurs browsed 

 on the quaint herbage, and Pterodactyls — those 

 ravenous bat- winged dragons of the air — hovered 

 above the surface of the earth, — in this epoch we 

 can imagine a pair of long-tailed, half-winged 

 creatures which skimmed from tree to tree, per- 

 haps giving an occasional flop — the beginning of 

 the marvellous flight motions. Is it not likely that 

 the Teleosaurs who watched hungrily from the 

 swamps saw them disappear at last in a hollowed 



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