WAYS OF NATURE 
that it uses the snake-skin as a kind of scarecrow, to 
frighten away its natural enemies. But think what 
this purpose in the use of it would imply. It would 
imply that the bird knew that there were among its 
enemies creatures that were afraid of snakes — so 
afraid of them that one of their faded and cast-off 
skins would keep these enemies away. How could 
the bird obtain this knowledge? It is not afraid of 
the skin itself; why should it infer that squirrels, 
for instance, are? I am convinced there is nothing 
in this notion. In all the nests that have come 
under my observation, the snake-skin was in faded 
fragments woven into the texture of the nest, and one 
would not be aware of its presence unless he pulled 
the nest to pieces. True, Mr. Frank Bolles reports 
finding a nest of this bird with a whole snake-skin 
coiled around a single egg; but it was the skin of 
a small garter-snake, six or seven inches long, and 
could not therefore have inspired much terror in 
the heart of the bird’s natural enemies. Dallas 
Lore Sharp, author of that delightful book, “ Wild 
Life Near Home,” tells me he has seen a whole skin 
dangling nearly its entire length from the hole that 
contained the nest, just as he has seen strings hang- 
ing from the nest of the kingbird. The bird was 
too hurried or too careless to pull in the skin. Mr. 
Sharp adds that he cannot “ give the bird credit for 
appreciating the attitude of the rest of the world 
toward snakes, and making use of the fear.” More- 
18 
