78 Bird - Lore 



all the youngsters disappeared, and the old Phoebes were busy with prepara- 

 tions for a second brood. With incredible ease they repaired the crushed and 

 soiled nest, so that it looked as good as new, and in due time it contained two 

 eggs. The following day the nest again was empty. What had become of 

 the eggs? 



How often the bird student encounters this same problem — unaccountable 

 disappearance, between successive visits, of the eggs in a nest he has under 

 observation. For want of better explanation, he attributes it to 'the tragedies 

 of bird life.' But may it not be that for reasons not clear to us birds some- 

 times devour their own eggs? We are told that the rabbit, a herbivorous rodent, 

 will eat her newborn young if she fancies that they are in danger. It is no 

 more difhcult to believe that birds might make away with their eggs in the 

 same way. Certainly it seems difficult to explain otherwise the sudden disap- 

 pearance (as not infrequently happens) of eggs in a cage-bird's nest, where 

 only one pair of birds occupies the breeding-cage. For that matter, the Phoebe's 

 nest had almost the security of a cage. Perched high on the top of a smooth 

 pillar, its upper edge was only a couple of inches from the veranda ceiling ; and 

 no known enemies lived close by — not even a House Wren. 



At all events, as was to be expected, the nest was now 'hoodooed' and 

 was deserted. The pair of Phoebes remained about, however, and we soon 

 began to notice scraps of moss and other nesting material blown by the wind 

 across the veranda floor. Investigation showed that the birds were evincing 

 interest in the top of the next pillar, this time having selected that portion 

 which was outside the awning and hence invisible from the veranda. The 

 expression 'evincing interest' is used, because it could not in any sense be 

 said that the Phoebes were building. Sundry wisps of vegetable matter would 

 be laid in haphazard manner upon the flat top of the pillar, only to be carried 

 away by the next breeze. We believe that the Phoebes were merely experi- 

 encing the half-hearted nest-building instinct, of which birds are sometimes 

 possessed in the fall, and which is manifested by aimless picking up and drop- 

 ping of straws, and the like. 



But when these activities were maintained with some persistence for about 

 three days we began to seek a definite cause for their lack of success. So far 

 as quantity of materials was concerned, there could be no criticism; but each 

 load would be gone when the next arrived. Why, we thought, do they not 

 make the usual foundation of mud, by which to anchor the rest of the structure? 

 Then the truth dawned. It was in the midst of the long-protracted drought 

 for which the summer of 192 1 will long be remembered, and mud was a com- 

 modity not to be had except near large and constant bodies of water. We 

 figured that it was at least a quarter of a mile to the nearest stream, and this 

 was probably beyond the Phoebes' radius of operation. 



We decided to try an experiment to help the birds. Moving a bird-bath 

 from another part of the garden, we mixed therein a mud-pie of delightful 



