The Anna Hnmtner 
By all accounts the youngsters are very hardy, for their birth-month, 
February, knows how to be blustery and raw sometimes, even south of 
Tehachipe. Since the mother has sole care of the brood, they are left 
uncovered for long spaces, whatever the weather. Miss Mollie Bryan, of 
Orange, tells of a home which enjoyed the shelter of her woodshed: 1 
“One of the little ones thrived wonderfully, stretching the nest to accom¬ 
modate its increasing size. By another three weeks (i. e., since hatching) 
the nest was almost in tatters, and the robust child decided to leave. As 
it spread its wings to fly away the weakling brother fell to the ground. 
Kind hands rescued it, the torn nest was carefully drawn together and 1 
placed it within, for we supposed, of course, the mother would come to 
feed it, but she did not. All day it lay without food. That night a rain 
came and the next day it seemed chilled and almost lifeless. Flowers 
were placed near it that it might find food within if it would. Another 
cold night passed, and we thought sure the life of the little one would 
be ended, but when the warm sun came it raised itself, stretched first 
one wing, then the other, and with a last look at its human friends darted 
away to be lost in bird-land.” 
Hummingbirds, one sees, even though they be so frail, possess 
an amazing vitality or recuperative power. But it is not too rare an 
experience to find one stranded, or numbed with the cold; and, to cite 
the extreme instance, the big freeze of January 2nd, 1913, undoubtedly 
cut down the resident hummer population of southern California (all 
Annas) one-half. It is quite worth while upon finding such a waif 
to try various methods of first-aid. The first expedient is, of course, 
heat—that of the closed hand may suffice. Or, it may be that the 
little engine only lacks “gas.” Sweetened water, of a pretty strong 
solution, offered in a pipette, or medicine dropper (pressed upon at¬ 
tention, or flooding the bill until the tongue gets the flavor), will sometimes 
resuscitate a fallen hummer like a magic potion. It is, in fact, a sort 
of hummingbird brandy without any reaction or bad taste in the mouth. 
Apropos of these waifs, a missionary friend tells me that in southern 
Chile a certain species of hummer, probably a Eustephanus, habitually 
weathers extended storms and bad nights in a comatose condition, 
clinging by the feet, to a twig, but hanging head downward, much like a 
chrysalis, in the densest cover it can find. Some perish in this fashion, 
but most of them revive with the returning sun, or upon the approach 
of milder weather. 
The Anna Hummer holds the record for early nesting in California. 
Much depends, of course, upon weather and flower conditions; but in a 
favorable season there is a general stir of activity among the resident 
1 The Condor, Vol. IV., March, 1902, p. 35. 
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