The Bush-Tit 227 



typical long pocket-nest. I say, lay the foundation; but really 

 Building ^Yie Bush-tit does not follow our ideas of architecture, for he 



shingles the roof first and puts in his uprights and his 

 floor-joists last. 



After the pair of lovers had selected a site for a home in a hemlock tree, they 

 began weaving in some cross-pieces beween the twigs. Then they left a place 

 for a round doorway, and began weaving the walls of moss, fibers and lichens. 

 This was to be the hallway down to the main living-room. The outline of the 

 long pocket was built, and then filled out from the inside. The feather lining 

 was added last, and this required a great amount of hunting. When one of the 

 Tits came with a feather, he would pop down into the nest, and the whole struc- 

 ture would shake and bulge, as the little fellow worked and fitted the material 

 in just where it was needed, and out he would come to continue the hunt. It 

 seemed they would never get enough feathers; for, even after some of the pure 

 white eggs were laid, whenever in their travels the pair would run across a feather, 

 back they would come and add it to their bed. 



In some parts of Oregon where the moss hangs in long bunches to the limbs, 

 the Bush-tit uses this natural beginning for a nest. I saw one of these birds 

 build its home by getting inside a long piece of moss and weave it into the wall 

 of the nest. At another time, I saw a Bush-tit's nest that was twenty inches 

 long. The little weavers had started their home on a limb, and it was evidently 

 not low enough to suit them, for they made a fibrous strap ten inches long and 

 then swung their gourd-shaped nest to that, letting the nest hang in a bunch of 

 willow leaves. 



I never had a good idea of the amount of insect food a Bush-tit consumed 

 until I watched a pair of these birds a few days after the eggs were hatched. 

 Both birds fed in turn, and the turns averaged about five minutes 

 Appetite apart during a large part of the day. The parents were busy 



from dawn till dark. They searched the leaves and twigs, the 

 branches and trunks of every tree; they hunted through the bushes and grasses 

 and ferns, and food always seemed to be abundant. Sometimes they brought 

 caterpillars, moths and daddy-long-legs, that one could see, and again they 

 brought bills full of larvae, plant-lice or scale insects that one could not recognize. 

 One pair of Bush-tits about a locality means the destruction of an untold number 

 of insect pests. If we could but estimate the amount of insects destroyed by all 

 the birds about any one locality, we should find it enormous. Without the help 

 of these assistant gardeners, bushes and trees would soon be leafless. 



The Bush-tit does not possess the aerial grace of a Swallow, or even the 

 nimbleness of a Warbler. He bustles along in such a jerky way he often looks 

 as if he would topple heels over head, and go whirling to the ground like a tailless 

 kite. He is not so a successful a wing shot as the Flycatcher, but he has an eye 

 that few birds can equal in stalking. He is a good assistant to the gardener, 

 for he is at work early and late and constantly at it. 



