294 



Bird - Lore 



May when the blooming apple trees re- 

 sound with their murmuring hum of 

 industry, combined with the rich plaintive 

 warble of the Bluebirds, the joyous gurgle 

 of the Martins and the incessant singing 

 of the Wrens thrill the heart of a nature- 

 lover. 



One day in the summer of 191 5, when the 

 oldest of the Woodpeckers left the nest 

 and hopped and fiew from fence-post to 

 tree, I noticed he was getting rather near 

 some prosperous colonies of bees, and, 

 thinking to turn him back, I approached 

 carefully, but he flopped down onto the 

 entrance of a very strong colony, and in 

 less than a minute they pounced on him. 

 I removed him with all haste possible, 

 first covering him with a burlap sack to 

 stop the advance of the enemy, but he soon 

 expired in great agony. He was a seething, 

 hissing mass of angry bees, and practically 

 covered with bee-stings. So infuriated were 

 the bees that those who had lost their 

 stings (for a honey-bee can sting only 

 once) were clinging to the feathers and 

 biting with their mandibles. The move- 

 ment of their wings rubbing against the 

 feathers made a noise not unlike escaping 

 steam. I did not feel so grieved about him, 

 as his parents had often snapped up my 

 virgin queens when they left their hives 

 for their nuptial flights, costing me $1.50 

 per snap. I felt that the Woodpecker 

 family deserved some punishment for 

 their treatment of royalty, though it was 

 rather a severe revenge. 



Last season, when the Bluebird family 

 left their home, two out of the five young 

 ones met the same fate as the Woodpecker. 

 In crossing the garden the young birds 

 hopped onto the doorsteps of the bee- 

 hives, when the occupants rushed out by 

 the dozens and pierced the dainty visitors 

 with their deadly stings. 



In the winter months of 19 16-17 we 

 spent considerable time constructing a 

 fancy Martin-house to take the place of 

 the old soap-box home which had col- 

 lapsed in a winter storm, and erected it 

 with due ceremony in the garden near the 

 grape-vines when spring came. Our 

 labor was rewarded by the Martins accept- 



ing it, on their arrival in April, and we 

 enjoyed hearing their gurgles of approval. 

 Sometimes there would be twenty or more 

 inspecting all the rooms and sitting on the 

 roof having a friendly chat. Martins have 

 a way of visiting all the houses in the neigh- 

 borhood before accepting one for nest- 

 building. Later in the season we noticed 

 that the birds had difficulty in alight- 

 ing on the house, due to the bees pur- 

 suing them. As soon as the Martins 

 would circle about the house, an army of 

 bees would follow, but the birds always 

 kept ahead of them and didn't seem to 

 notice them while in the air. But when 

 they would alight on the house, the bees 

 appeared to settle on them, and they 

 would fly away with frightened squawks. 

 Only one pair remained in the house, and 

 only by rushing through the air and pop- 

 ping into the opening, without alighting 

 outside, were they able to keep house at 

 all. They managed fairly well until the 

 young needed constant feeding, when the 

 battle for existence began. There were 

 never less than a dozen angry bees hover- 

 ing about the entrance, and whenever a 

 parent bird would leave the house, more 

 joined in the pursuit. In returning, the 

 birds would sometimes make several 

 attempts to enter before being successful, 

 so persistent were the bees. Finally the 

 Martins became discouraged and fed the 

 young only early in the morning and late 

 in the evening, when the bees were quieter. 

 The birds would make several trips in the 

 morning, and I could hear the clamoring 

 of the young as they were fed. Then, 

 when the angry hordes gathered, the par- 

 ents disappeared, and I saw no more of 

 them all day until just about sunset, when 

 they would return and make a few hurried 

 trips, remaining with the young at night. 

 One of the young birds sat with his head 

 just showing in the doorway of the house, 

 chirping hungrily, for three days, but the 

 parents never came near, except as stated 

 above, and finally they failed to appear at 

 all. The chirping of the young grew fainter 

 and fainter, and on the fourth day all was 

 silent about the house, though several 

 angry bees kept up the unceasing watch. 



