THE CHICKADEE 53 



my intentions were of the best, and promised to 

 return and secure her portrait at the first oppor- 

 tunity. 



Four days later I set up my camera before the 

 door to tlie Cliickadee's dwelliirg, and, without at- 

 tempting to conceal it, attached tliread to the shutter 

 and retreated in the undergrowth to a distance of 

 about twenty-five feet. 



After having had most discouraging experiences 

 with several birds, who had evidently regarded the 

 camera as a monster of destruction, and had refused 

 to return to their nests as long as the evil eye of the 

 lens was on them, it was consoling to find a bird 

 who had some degree of confidence in human nature 

 as represented by photograpjhic apparatus. 



It is true that the female — and throughout this 

 description I assume that the bird with much-worn 

 plumage was of this sex — promptly left the stub at 

 my approach ; but when I retired to the undergrowth 

 there was no tiresome wait of hours while the bird, 

 flitting from bush to bush, chirped s\ispicioi;sly, but 

 almost immediately she returned to her home."' The 

 camera was examined, but clearly not considered 

 dangerous, its tripod sometimes serving as a step to 

 the nest entrance. The click of the shutter, how- 

 ever, when an exposure was made as the bird was 

 about to enter its dwelling, caused some alarm, and 

 she flew back to a neighboring tree, and for some 

 time hopped restlessly from limb to limb. 



The male, who had previously kejit in the back- 

 ground, now approached, and, as if to soothe his 

 troubled mate, thoughtfully gave her a caterpillar. 

 She welcomed him with a gentle, tremulous flutter- 



