The Wright Flycatcher 
way of reparation. She was not eager, but it was evidently too good a 
thing to miss, so when I brought a fly within a half inch or so of her 
beak, she would seize it with a quick dab. She was too bashful to eat 
in our presence, however. She always held the fly in the tip of her beak 
until we had retired from view, then (presumably) she swallowed it. 
Once, while she was still holding a dead fly in her beak, I offered her a 
livelier one. Like a flash she dropped the dead fly and seized the living. 
It was the unerring professional instinct. 
Once when a smart 
shower sprang up, 
accompanied by sleet, I 
hastened down to the 
nest and held a hat over 
her (at a distance of a 
foot or so) till the danger 
passed. This time I am 
positive she looked her 
gratitude. 
On the 13th day 
after discovery the eggs 
began to hatch. As I 
poked her aside 
momentarily, toward 
noon, we saw two naked 
babies and two eggs. 
Clothed with the new 
dignity of motherhood, 
“Birdetta,” as we called 
her, adopted a more dis¬ 
tant mien. She refused 
to take flies from my 
hand, and as often as I 
touched her she would 
rap me soundly with her 
little beak. We were 
rather rude neighbors, 1 
fear, but our solicitude 
was genuine, and we 
noted with regret that 
only two eggs hatched, 
the first two having un¬ 
doubtedly been frosted 
Taken in Inyo County 
Photo by the Author 
“SHE BRAVED HOSTILE NOTICE” 
