122 



Wild Birds. 



the Black and Yellow or Magnolia Warbler, and as his photograph shows, filled it com- 

 pletely. He would stand on the rim of the nest and, with raised feathers, squeak and call 

 vehemently for his foster parents. I took from beneath him the dried mummy of a little 

 warbler and one addled egg, which illustrates the advantage nature gives this bird over 

 his competitors in early life. He showed no fear, but clung like a monkey to the nest, 

 while I carried the branch several hundred feet to find a quiet place out of the wind. I 

 regret that I cannot show the nurse feeding this monster, but unfortunately the day was 

 stormy and the bird was soon gone. 



Many birds have alarm calls or signals of distress, which attract or arouse other 

 species, as every one knows who has studied birds in the country. I remember seeing an 



unusually striking exhibi- 

 tion of this fact while 

 watching unobserved 

 some Red Crossbills en- 

 gaged in picking the seeds 

 out of pine cones. They 

 were on the ground in a 

 run where it was impossi- 

 ble for the birds to see 

 out on either side. A 

 Crow espied me at a dis- 

 tance, gave his short quick 

 alarm car ! car ! when the 

 Crossbills went off as if 

 carried in a whirlwind. 

 They had apparently seen 

 nothing to awaken suspic- 

 ion, and the crow is not 

 their enemy so far as I am 

 aware. 



When a robin hears 

 the alarm call of his mate, 



Fig. 119. Cock Robin startled while at nest by a quick, decisive alarm call 

 from his mate. His head shot up like a flash, and in a moment he was off. his head gOCS Up instantly, 



and he stands for a mo- 

 ment with outstretched neck, listening intently to see if he is needed. I was fortunate 

 in catching the male bird at the nest in just this attitude, expressive of attention and 

 wariness, bordering on fear. 



A hawk, owl, crow, cat, snake, or any well-known or dreaded enemy of birds will set the 

 community in a hubbub in a very short time. Birds of other species hurry to the scene out 

 of sympathy or curiosity, as some would say, but probably more from instinct of a different 

 character. The smallest spark often kindles the largest blaze. Thus while passing through 

 a pasture last June I happened to encounter a Robin with mouth stuffed with food, as if on 

 the way to her nest. She at once set up a loud cry, and mounting the bare branch of a dead 

 apple tree, in five minutes drummed up eleven different birds, among which I recognized 

 the Baltimore Oriole, Brown Thrush, two Catbirds, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Red-eyed 



