The Western Robin 
Once, at Goose Lake, while the bird-man was perched aloft, with 
cameras, awaiting the return of a reluctant Vireo, a terrific commotion 
broke out in a big thorn bush. I looked to see a tumbling mass of birds, 
but could distinguish nothing until the contestants hit the ground and 
fell apart for a tense moment, whereupon I made out a Sierra Junco, a 
Sparrow Hawk, and two 
Robins. The Junco 
stirred first; the Sparrow 
Hawk took after him; 
but the Robins joined 
pursuit with such instant 
vigor that the J unco was 
able to drop out un¬ 
noticed. The Robins 
chased that Sparrow 
Hawk, like avenging 
furies, for at least a hun¬ 
dred yards, and I’ll 
wager the would-be as¬ 
sassin was glad to get 
away. Your Robin Red¬ 
breast has one of the 
bravest hearts that 
beats. 
At nesting time the 
Robin displays little 
caution, its homely mud- 
walled cup not being 
withdrawn from the 
most familiar observa¬ 
tion. Indeed, as in the 
case of the accompany¬ 
ing illustration (of an 
Eastern Robin), the bird 
appears to court noto¬ 
riety. From five to 
fifteen feet is the usual 
elevation, but nests are 
sometimes found in a Taken in Michi * an 
pine or fir tree up to 
sixty feet. When civilization has been frankly adopted—and the tend¬ 
ency to “come out of the woods” is very marked, as the records of recent 
From a Photograph, Copyright 1908, by L. G. Linkleller 
THE ROBIN'S NEST 
