Bird- Nesting with Burroughs 



BY FRANK M. CHAPMAN 

 With photographs from nature by the author 



WHEN two men whose combined years closely approach five-score 

 can go a-bird-nesting with an enthusiasm which knows no 

 decrease, and count mere discovery a sufficient reward for hours 

 of searching, the occupation is evidently worthy of investigation by every 

 boy who would prolong his youth. 



I say boy advisedly, for the bird-nesting habit is not to be acquired 

 in later life, and, indeed, had better never be acquired at all if its object 

 be the taking of the nests and eggs. One does not search for a rare 

 or beautiful flower to uproot and destroy it, but to admire it, and to 

 cherish the memory of its perfections until, with returning spring, it 

 renews itself and our delight in its existence. 



Bird-nesting, then, does not mean egg-collecting. The latter holds 

 no antidote for age, but loses its powers as gratified desire checks species 

 after species off the list, or increasing years bring a realization of its folly. 



Your true bird-nester values his good fortune too highly to rob the 

 nest and himself at the same time. The discovery of a bird's nest is 

 the discovery of a bird's home with all the fascinating possibilities 

 attending the study of a bird's home life. It is an event. One never 

 forgets the circumstances attending the finding of any but the com- 

 monest birds' nests. The species then becomes the individual. One 

 may claim an actual acquaintance in the bird world and perhaps establish 

 personal relations with some feathered neighbor, whose family affairs 

 become matters with which we are intimately concerned. Witness Mr. 

 Burroughs' story of his Phoebe neighbor in the preceding pages. 



Furthermore, that almost universal heritage, the hunting instinct, 

 finds a natural outlet in bird-nesting. The farmer's boy who hunts 

 hens' nests just to triumph over some particular fowl whose eggs have 

 long defied search, exhibits in primitive form the motive which impels 

 one again and again to look for the nest of a more or less common 

 bird whose home has been discovered many times before. And, finally, 

 as Mr. Burroughs has said, "Bird-nesting is by no means a failure even 

 though you find no birds' nests. You are sure to find other things of 

 interest; plenty of them." 



Perhaps, after all, this is the true secret of the perennial charm of 

 bird-nesting. The discovery of the nest is only the crowning event of 

 a quest which has been filled with pleasant incidents. Certain it is that 

 in the outing here briefly described there were "other things of interest" 

 besides birds' nests, and "plenty of them," too. First among them was 



