no WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



and breath comes freely. The bird has touched 

 one's hand and — well, what more is needed ? 



The day had been a fortunate one, and one that I 

 would always remember with the greatest pleasure, 

 for it had seen the culmination of the most delight- 

 ful friendship I have ever had with any birds, and 

 besides that I had secured some interesting photo- 

 graphs that would prove to my sceptical friends 

 how tame the birds had become. 



Before leaving the Chicadees I had replaced the 

 youngsters in their nest, in the hopes of finding 

 them there on the following day. How long they 

 remained in their comfortable quarters I never 

 knew, for early next morning when I visited the 

 nest it was empty. Was it possible that any 

 accident had happened to them? If so, perhaps 

 I was to blame. While thinking this over and 

 regretting having fallen into the temptation of 

 making friends with these birds a small clear voice 

 from a tree near by called " Chicadee-chicadee- 

 dee-dee," and there was one of the old birds, and 

 with her on the same branch sat two of the young 

 ones ; that the others were not far off I felt sure, 

 and a little searching soon discovered them. They 

 were all safe and very busy, for they had much to 

 learn, and I watched them during many hours as 

 they chmbed among the branches, learning from 

 their parents all the acrobatic feats of their kind, 

 but eating nothing except what was given them. 

 It would be a couple of weeks or more before they 

 fed themselves, and long before that time they 

 would be fuU grown and exact counterparts of their 

 parents. Judging from the fact that Chicadees are 



