The Hummingbird at Home 9 



wings and tail spread wide. When it was hottest, I've 

 seen the mother sit forward on the nest edge, spread her 

 tail till she showed the white tips of her feathers, and 

 keep up a constant quivering, fanning motion with her 

 wings to give protection to the frail midgets in the nest. 



When I first crawled in among the bushes close to the 

 nest the little mother darted at me and poised a foot from 

 my nose, as if to stare me out of countenance. She looked 

 me all over from head to foot twice, then she seemed con- 

 vinced that I was harmless. She whirled and sat on the 

 nest edge. The bantlings opened wide their hungry 

 mouths. She spread her tail like a flicker and braced 

 herself against the nest side. She craned her neck and 

 drew her daggerlike bill straight up above the nest. She 

 plunged it down the baby's throat to the hilt and started a 

 series of gestures that seemed fashioned to puncture him 

 to the toes. Then she stabbed the other baby till it made 

 me shudder. It looked like the murder of the infants. 

 But they were not mangled and bloody: they were get- 

 ting a square meal after the usual hummingbird method 

 of regurgitation. They ran out their slender tongues to 

 lick the honey from their lips. How they liked it I Then 

 she settled down and ruffled up her breast feathers to let 

 her babies cuddle close to her naked bosom. Occasion- 

 ally she reached under to caress them with whisperings 

 of mother-love. 



I have never seen a hummingbird fledgling fall from 

 the nest in advance of his strength as a robin often does. 

 When the time comes, he seems to spring into the air full 

 grown, clad in glittering armor, as Minerva sprang from 

 the head of Jove. While I lay quiet in the bushes I learned 



