1 82 HUMMING BIRD. 



ceived, on the closest inspection, though, at other times, this 

 is remarkably observable ; the eyes were shut, and, when 

 touched by the finger, it gave no signs of life or motion. I 

 carried it out to the open air, and placed it directly in the 

 rays of the sun, in a sheltered situation. In a few seconds, 

 respiration became very apparent; the bird breathed faster 

 and faster, opened its eyes, and began to look about, with as 

 much seeming vivacity as ever. After it had completely 

 recovered, I restored it to liberty: and it flew off to the 

 withered top of a pear tree, where it sat for some time dressing 

 its disordered plumage, and then shot off like a meteor. 



The flight of the humming bird, from flower to flower, 

 greatly resembles that of a bee ; but is so much more rapid, 

 that the latter appears a mere loiterer to him. He poises 

 himself on wing, while he thrusts his long, slender, tubular 

 tongue into the flowers in search of food. He sometimes 

 enters a room by the window, examines the bouquets of flowers, 

 and passes out by the opposite door or window. He has been 

 known to take refuge in a hothouse during the cool nights of 

 autumn, to go regularly out in the morning, and to return as 

 regularly in the evening, for several days together. 



The humming bird has hitherto been supposed to subsist 

 altogether on the honey, or liquid sweets, which it extracts 

 from flowers. One or two curious observers have indeed 

 remarked, that they have found evident fragments of insects 

 in the stomach of this species ; but these have been generally 

 believed to have been taken in by accident. The few 

 opportunities which Europeans have to determine this point 

 by observations made on the living bird, or by dissection of 

 the newly killed one, have rendered this mistaken opinion 

 almost general in Europe. For myself, I can speak decisively 

 on this subject. I have seen the humming bird, for half an 

 hour at a time, darting at those little groups of insects that 

 dance in the air in a fine summer evening, retiring to an 

 adjoining twig to rest, and renewing the attack with a 

 dexterity that sets all our other flycatchers at defiance. I 



