108 HOMING WITH THE BIRDS 



occurred rather late one fall. On the way to the 

 river one morning I noticed a bird acting pecu- 

 liarly on a fine specimen of pokeberry. There had 

 been a frost the night before. A hot autumn sun 

 was shining on the frozen fruit. On going closer 

 to see what was happening I found a cedar wax- 

 wing, a bird native to my location but for all that 

 extremely rare, one seen less frequently than almost 

 any other bird of my acquaintance. The wax- 

 wing was feasting continuously on the frozen 

 berries, and almost as continuously raining them 

 down in the form of scarcely digested excrement. 

 He was in such a state of intoxication that he did 

 not always secure the berry at which he aimed and 

 the plumage of his face and throat was badly 

 stained with the juice. He was so unsteady on 

 his feet that he frequently lost his balance and 

 plunging headfirst he fell to the vmderside of the 

 little branches to which he clung with his feet; 

 but hanging head down, and even while he was 

 struggling to gain an upright position, he still 

 continued eating every berry he could reach. 

 Approaching as close as I thought I dared I ex- 

 posed two or three plates, while my assistant 

 hurried back to my base of supplies for more 

 plates. I first began so far away that the picture 

 included the whole bush, which was shaped like a 

 small tree, having two or three trunks, then ad- 

 vanced gradually until my last plate was gone. 

 When no longer able to take pictures I tried the 



