26 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 



to roost, courting the safety which they had come 

 to associate with the clearings of human pioneers 

 in the jungle. A box on a bamboo stalk drew 

 forth joyous hymns of praise from a pair of little 

 God-birds, as the natives call the house-wrens, 

 who straightway collected all the grass and 

 feathers in the world, stuffed them into the tiny 

 chamber, and after a time performed the ever- 

 marvelous feat of producing three replicas of 

 themselves from this trash-filled box. The 

 father-parent was one concentrated mite of song, 

 with just enough feathers for wings to enable 

 him to pursue caterpillars and grasshoppers as 

 raw material for the production of more song. 

 He sang at the prospect of a home ; then he sang 

 to attract and win a mate; more song at the joy 

 of finding wonderful grass and feathers; again 

 melody to beguile his mate, patiently giving the 

 hours and days of her body-warmth in instinct- 

 compelled belief in the future. He sang while 

 he took his turn at sitting; then he nearly choked 

 to death trying to sing while stuffing a bug down 

 a nestling's throat; finally, he sang at the end of a 

 perfect nesting season; again, in hopes of per- 

 suading his mate to repeat it all, and this failing, 

 sang in chorus in the wren quintette I hoped, in 



