GATHERED BY THE WAY 



matter of course birds blunder in handling them. 

 The oriole uses them the most successfully, often 

 attaching her pensile nest to the branch by their aid. 

 But she uses them in a blind, childish way, winding 

 them round and round the branch, often getting 

 them looped over a twig or hopelessly tangled, and 

 now and then hanging herself with them, as is the 

 case with other birds. I have seen a sparrow, a cedar- 

 bird, and a robin each hung by a string it was using 

 in the building of its nest. Last spring, in Spokane, a 

 boy brought me a desiccated robin, whose feet were 

 held together by a long thread hopelessly snarled. 

 The boy had found it hanging to a tree. 



I have seen in a bird magazine a photograph of 

 an oriole's nest that had a string carried around a 

 branch apparently a foot or more away, and then 

 brought back and the end woven into the nest. It 

 was given as a sample of a well-guyed nest, the dis- 

 coverer no doubt looking upon it as proof of an 

 oriole's forethought in providing against winds and 

 storms. I have seen an oriole's nest with a string 

 carried around a leaf, and another with a long looped 

 string hanging free. All such cases simply show 

 that the bird was not master of her material ; she 

 bungled ; the traihng string caught over the leaf or 

 branch, and she drew both ends in and fastened 

 them regardless of what had happened. The inci- 

 dent only shows how blindly instinct works. 



Twice I have seen cedar-birds, in their quest for 

 247 



