62 



a single outward sign from which the collector 

 can obtain a clue. A mere hole in a tree is no 

 sign of a duck's nest," and it is no sign of a 

 lit s nest. The tenacity, too, with which the 

 bird clings to its nest when the intruder raps at 

 Its door, is not a little aggravating, and apt to 

 deceive the inexperienced. I can recall but two 

 instances of its coming from the nest when I 

 tapped on the tree, and as one of these came 

 from a hole forty feet above. I am wholly at a 

 loss to know what to attribute it to 



About the twelfth of April, the birds may be 

 seen reconnoitering the hollow trees within 

 their accustomed feeding-ground, with a view 

 to nesting. It is then that the old leaning sour- 

 wood slub, with a hole in the top, possesses so 

 much magnetism; and when the top part ex- 

 tends beyond the entrance so as to shelter it 

 trom the weather, it is thereby rendered 

 especially seductive. When the site is deter- 

 mined on, the female flies down close by the 

 brook, and, as a first step, gathers some dead 

 leaves, m the selection of which she is a trifle 

 fastidious. She does not want one too wet and 

 heavy, but wants it to have suflicient moisture 

 to allow it to pack well, and bear pressure 

 without crumbling. 



When she is ready to leave for the nest, it is 

 safe to assume that she has the largest load 

 considering her size, that the ornithologist ever 

 sees carried by a bird. Being so heavily loaded 

 she does not rise and fly straightway to the 

 nest, but hops upon the lower limbs of a bu«h 

 and works her way to the top, then begins her 

 tiresome flight. She stops here and there to 

 rest on the way, and therefore is easily fol- 

 lowed by the long-legged collector, but, like 

 ujamsfatuis, she may lead him through boo-s 

 ditches, thickets, and what not. Then, abo'ut 

 moist places in the same vicinity, she gets a 

 supply of green moss and mixes in a modicum 

 of dirt. After she has accumulated the desired 

 amount of such materials, we will find her at 

 the bed of the flying squirrel {Pteromys volu- 

 c«««) or some other mammal which collects 

 the thin inner bark of trees, and she does not 

 hesitate to appropriate as much as she needs 

 1 hen she is off for the farmer's barn, and any 

 bunch of cornsilks about his granary is used. 

 Again she ,s over where he curried his horse or 

 butchered his pig, in quest of hair. This is the 

 ftrst step, and the nest then awaits oviposition' 

 It IS not improbable that some soft substances 

 are added while the eggs are still being depos- 

 ited but, be that as it may, from the laying oe 

 the first egg the sides of the nest are caref ully 

 drawn in and the contents hidden. 



When the nest is in a cavity which cannot be 

 looked into, as is frequentlv the case, it is 

 purely a matter of speculation to say when the 

 complement has been laid, since the bird ig- 

 nores the sound of our gavel. 



When a bird digs its own hole, there is apt to 

 be a thm place in the wood which may be lo- 

 cated with a knife-blade, so when I am eager to 

 earn the contents 1 make an incision barely 

 urge enough to admit the light and peep in. If 

 the nest or set has not been completed,! carefully 

 pin a strip of bark or a bit of soft wood over 

 the place thus made, and usually the work goes 

 serenely on. But as the Tufted Tit not only 

 builds in a natural hollow, but has the precau- 

 tion to cover its eggs, this little scheme often 

 fails to work so satisfactorily. However, sad 

 experience has caused me lately to ,-ut the 

 Gordian knot by having recourse to the hatchet, 

 for surely there is as much satisfaction in cut- 

 ting in too soon as there is in allowing the bird 

 to hatch while waiting for her to lay 



The bird's boldness about her nest is remark- 

 able, yet It is a don't care-a-cent kind of brav- 

 ery rather than pugnacity. She is perfectly 

 cool and demure as you look down at her seated 

 upon the nest, and does not seem to care if you 

 do put your hands on her, but, as Hood has it, 

 "Take her up tenderly 

 Lift her with care," 

 for she will sometimes sink her claws into the 

 side of the nest, and as she is being lifted will 

 empty the eggs against the tree. 



I once found a nest to which a friend climbed, 

 cut in, took the bird off, and threw her off; and 

 although the nest was only eight feet high be- 

 fore he could climb up again the bird was on 

 and had to be caught and thrown out again. I 

 took a Tit from a nest of seven eggs in an old 

 apple stump once, but as the shells indicated an 

 advanced stage of incubation, I removed one 

 egg only and ran a pin into it to learn if the 

 embryo had hardened. While I was thus en- 

 gaged, the bird hopped on her nest and was 

 removed only by force. 



_ 1 remember a pair which reared their brood 

 in a hollow stump that had been drawn from 

 the ground and leaned against a tree. 1 have 

 shown this old stump some attention since, 

 but have taken no eggs from it. 



Unlike some birds which nest in holes, the 

 lufted itmouse will not occupy the same one 

 habitually, at least, a case of its doing so has 

 never come to my notice. I have seen from five 

 to eight eggs in a nest, but seven is unques- 

 tionably the usual number laid in this locality 

 One morning, while sitting in my room writ- 



April 1888.] AWD 0(i 



ing, I heard a peculiar noise quite near, and on 

 looking around was astonished to see a Tufted 

 Tit in the middle of the room holding a ball 

 of crumpled writing paper. Observing my 

 movement he dropped it, but took it up again 

 and carried it out of the window. 



O.&O. XII I.Apr._183S p. p;/-6i 



