58 WAKE-ROBIN 
of its companion, though obviously both are of the 
same age, not more than a day old. Ah! I see; 
he old trick of the cow bunting, with a stinging 
human significance. Taking the interloper by the 
nape of the neck, I deliberately drop it into the 
: water, but not without a pang, as I see its naked 
| form, convulsed with chills, float down stream. 
Cruel? So is Nature cruel. I take one life to 
1 “\save two. In less than two days this pot-bellied 
‘intruder would have caused the death of the two 
lrightful occupants of the nest; so I step in and 
tum things into their proper channel again. 
\ Jt is a singular freak of nature, this instinct 
which prompts one bird to lay its eggs in the nests 
of others, and thus shirk the responsibility of rear- 
ing its own young. The cow buntings always re- 
sort to this cunning trick; and when one reflects 
upon their numbers it is evident that these little 
tragedies are quite frequent. In Europe the paral- 
lel case is that of the cuckoo, and occasionally our 
own cuckoo imposes upon a robin or a thrush in 
the same manner. The cow bunting seems to have 
no conscience about the matter, and, so far as I 
have observed, invariably selects the nest of a bird 
smaller than itself. Its egg is usually the first to 
hatch; its young overreaches all the rest when food 
is brought; it grows with great rapidity, spreads 
and fills the nest, and the starved and crowded 
occupants soon perish, when the parent bird removes 
their dead bodies, giving its whole energy and care 
to the foster-child. 
