THE SUMMIT OF THE YEARS 



these inherited habits — in all but in the selection of 

 the locality of her nest. In this she makes a new de- 

 parture, and in so doing shows how adaptive many 

 of the wild creatures are. The bird has probably 

 failed in her attempts to bring out a brood in the old 

 places. I think three out of four of all such attempts 

 on the part of ground builders do fail. Within a 

 few days two sparrows' nests in a small space in the 

 pasture below me have been " harried," as the Scotch 

 say. If they escape the sharp-eyed crows by day, the 

 skunks and the foxes, or other night prowlers, are 

 pretty sure to smell them out by night. The family 

 of crows, two old ones and four young ones, that I 

 see every day foraging about the fields, probably 

 plimder nine out of ten of all the nests in the field. 

 At any rate, my junco has decided on trying the 

 shelter of the old barn. Here she is in danger from 

 rats and cats and red squirrels, but at this season 

 she stands a fair chance of escape. When she comes 

 in with a wisp of the outdoor rubbish in her beak, 

 I should say she showed some nervousness were it 

 not for the fact that juncoes always seem to be ner- 

 vous. She flits about with her eye upon me, and after 

 a few feints fiies up to her place on the side of the 

 mow and disappears for a moment under the droop- 

 ing locks of hay. Her nest is completed in two or 

 three forenoons — a very simple and rude affair 

 compared with the nest in May or June under a mossy 

 bank by the woodside. Then she is not in evidence 



