A Woodland Intimate. 
350 
to a distinctively American family, and 
is one of five species which are more or 
less abundant as summer residents in 
Eastern Massachusetts, being itself in 
most places the least numerous of the 
five, and, with the possible exception of 
the white-eye, the most retiring. My 
own hunting-grounds happen to be one 
of its favorite resorts (there is none bet- 
ter in the State, I suspect) , so that I am 
pretty certain of having two or three 
pairs under my eye every season, within 
a radius of half a mile. I have found 
a number of nests, also, but till this year 
had never observed any marked peculi- 
arity of the birds as to timidity or fear- 
lessness. Nor do I now imagine that 
any such strong race peculiarity exists. 
What I am to describe I suppose to he 
nothing more than an accidental and un- 
accountable idiosyncrasy of the particu- 
lar bird in question. Such freaks of 
temperament are more or less familiar 
to all field naturalists, and may be taken 
as extreme developments of that indi- 
viduality which seems to be the birth- 
right of every living creature, no matter 
how humble. At this very moment I 
recall a white-throated sparrow, overta- 
ken some years ago in an unfrequented 
road, whose tameness was entirely un- 
usual, and, indeed, little short of ridi- 
culous. 
Three or four days after the walk just 
now mentioned I was again in the same 
wood, and went past the vireos’ nest, pay- 
ing no attention to it beyond noting that 
one of the birds, presumed to be the 
female, was on duty. But the next 
morning, as I saw her again, it occurred 
to me to make an experiment. So, quit- 
ting the path suddenly, I walked as 
rapidly as possible straight up to the 
nest, a distance of perhaps three rods, 
giving her no chance to slip off, with the 
hope of escaping unperceived. The plan 
worked to a charm, or so I flattered my- 
self. When I came to a standstill my 
eyes were within a foot or two of hers ; 
in fact, I could get no nearer without 
[September, 
running my head against the branch ; 
yet she sat quiet, apparently without a 
thought of being driven from her post, 
turning her head this way and that, but 
making no sound, and showing not the 
least sign of anything like distress. A 
mosquito buzzed about my face, and I 
brushed it off. Still she sat undisturbed. 
Then I placed my hand against the bot- 
tom of the nest. At this she half rose 
to her feet, craning her neck to see what 
was going on, but the moment I let go 
she settled back upon her charge. Sur- 
prised and delighted, I had no heart to 
pursue the matter further, and turned 
away ; declaring to myself that, notwith- 
standing I had half promised a scientific 
friend the privilege of “ taking ” the nest, 
such a thing should now never be done 
with my consent. Before I could betray 
a confidence like this, I must be a more 
zealous ornithologist or amove unfeeling 
man, — or both at once. Science ought 
to be encouraged, of course, but not to 
the outraging of honor and common de- 
cency. 
On the following day, after repeating 
such amenities as I had previously in- 
dulged in, I put forth my hand as if to 
stroke the bird’s plumage ; seeing which, 
she raised her beak threateningly and 
emitted a very faint deprecatory note, 
which would have been inaudible at the 
distance of a few yards. At the same 
time she opened and shut her bill, not 
snappishly, but slowly, — a nervous ac- 
tion, simply, it seemed to me. 
Twenty-four hours later I called again, 
and was so favorably received that, be- 
sides taking hold of the nest, as before, I 
brushed her tail feathers softly. Then 
I put my hand to her head, on which 
she pecked my finger in an extremely 
pretty, gentle way, — more like kissing 
than biting, — and made use of the low 
murmuring sounds just now spoken of. 
Her curiosity was plainly wide awake. 
She stretched her neck to the utmost to 
look under the nest, getting upon her 
feet for the purpose, till I expected every 
A Woodland Intimate. 
351 
1887.] 
moment to see her slip away ; but pre- 
sently she grew quiet again, and I with- 
drew, leaving her in possession. 
By this time a daily interview had 
come to be counted upon as a matter of 
course, by me certainly, and, for aught 
I know, by the vireo as well. On my 
next visit I stroked the back of her head, 
allowed her to nibble the tip of my fin- 
ger, and was greatly pleased with the 
matter-of-fact manner in which she cap- 
tured an insect from the side of the nest, 
while leaning out to oversee my manoeu- 
vres. Finally, on my offering to lay my 
left hand upon her, she quit her seat, and 
perched upon a twig, fronting me ; and 
when I put my finger to her bill she 
flew off. Even now she made no out- 
cry, however, but fell immediately to 
singing in tones of absolute good-humor, 
and before I had gone four rods from 
the tree was back again upon the eggs. 
Of these, I should have said, there were 
four, — the regular complement, — all 
her own. Expert as cow-birds are at 
running a blockade, it would have puz- 
zled the shrewdest of them to smuggle 
anything into a nest so sedulously 
guarded. 
Walking homeward, I bethought my- 
self how foolish I had been not to offer 
my little •protegee something to eat. Ac- 
cordingly, in the morning, before start- 
ing out, I filled a small box with leaves 
from the garden rose-bush, which, as 
usual, had plenty of plant-lice upon it. 
Armed in this manner, — as perhaps no 
ornithologist ever went armed before, — 
I approached the nest, and to my delight 
saw it still unharmed (I never came in 
sight of it without dreading to find it 
pillaged) ; but just as I was putting my 
hand into my pocket for the box, off 
started the bird. Here was a disap- 
pointment indeed ; but in the next breath 
I assured myself that the recreant must 
be the male, who for once had been spell- 
ing his companion. So I fell back a lit- 
tle, and in a minute or less one of the 
pair went on to brood. This was the 
mother, without question, and I again 
drew near. True enough, she welcomed 
me with all her customary politeness. 
No matter what her husband might say, 
she knew better than to distrust an in- 
offensive, kind-hearted gentleman like 
myself. Had I not proved myself such 
time and again ? So I imagined her to 
be reasoning. At all events, she sat quiet 
and unconcerned ; apparently more un- 
concerned than her visitor, for, to tell 
the truth, I was so anxious for the suc- 
cess of this crowning experiment that I 
actually found myself trembling. How- 
ever, I opened my store of dainties, wet 
the tip of my little finger, took up an 
insect, and held it to her mandibles. 
For a moment she seemed not to know 
what it was, but soon she picked it off 
and swallowed it. The second one she 
seized promptly, and the third she 
reached out to anticipate, exactly as a 
tame canary might have done. Before 
I could pass her the fourth she stepped 
out of the nest, and took a position upon 
the branch beside it ; but she accepted 
the morsel, none the less. And an ex- 
tremely pretty sight it was, — a wild 
wood bird perched upon a twig and feed- 
ing from a man’s finger ! 
She would not stay for more, but flew 
to another bough ; whereupon I resumed 
my ramble, and, as usual, she covered 
the eggs again before I could get out of 
sight. When I returned, in half an 
hour or thereabouts, I proffered her a 
mosquito, which I had saved for that 
purpose. She took it, but presently let 
it drop. It was not to her taste, pro- 
bably, for shortly afterward she caught 
one herself, as it came fluttering near, 
and discarded that also ; but she ate 
the remainder of my rose-bush parasites, 
though I was compelled to coax her a 
little. Seemingly, she felt that our pro- 
ceedings were more or less irregular, if 
not positively out of character. Not that 
she betrayed any symptoms of nervous- 
ness or apprehension, but she repeatedly 
turned away her head, as if determined 
V* 
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