226 
THE PEWEE FLYCATCHER. 
their avocations, I peeped into their nest, and saw there their first egg, so 
white and so transparent — for I believe, reader, that eggs soon lose this 
peculiar transparency after being laid — that to me the sight was more 
pleasant than if I had met with a diamond of the same size. The knowledge 
that in an enclosure so frail, life already existed, and that ere many weeks 
would elapse, a weak, delicate, and helpless creature, but perfect in all its 
parts, would burst the shell, and immediately call for the most tender care 
and attention of its anxious parents, filled my mind with as much wonder as 
when, looking towards the heavens, I searched, alas ! in vain, for the true 
import of all that I saw. 
In six days, six eggs were deposited ; but I observed that as they increased 
in number, the bird remained a shorter time in the nest. The last she 
deposited in a few minutes after alighting. Perhaps, thought I, this is a law 
of nature, intended for keeping the eggs fresh to th6 last. About an hour 
after laying the last egg, the female Pewee returned, settled in her nest, and, 
after arranging the eggs, as I thought, several times under her body, expanded 
her wings a little, and fairly commenced the arduous task of incubation. 
Day after day passed by. I gave strict orders that no one should go near 
the cave, much less enter it, or indeed destroy any bird’s nest on the planta- 
tion. Whenever I visited the Pewees, one or other of them was on the 
nest, while its mate was either searching for food, or perched in the vicinity, 
filling the air with its loudest notes. I not unfrequently reached out my 
hand near the sitting bird ; and so gentle had they both become, or rather so 
well acquainted were we, that neither moved on such occasions, even when 
my hand was quite close to it. Now and then the female would shrink back 
into the nest, but the male frequently snapped at my fingers, and once left 
the nest as if in great anger, flew round the cave a few times, emitting his 
querulous whining notes, and alighted again to resume his labours. 
At this very time, a Pewee’s nest was attached to one of the rafters of 
my mill, and there was another under a shed in the cattle-yard. Each pair, 
any one would have felt assured, had laid out the limits of its own domain, 
and it was seldom that one trespassed oA the grounds of its neighbour. The 
Pewee of the cave generally fed or spent its time so far above the mill on 
the creek, that he of the mill never came in contact with it. The Pewee of 
the cattle-yard confined himself to the orchard, and never disturbed the rest. 
Yet I sometimes could hear distinctly the notes of the three at the same 
moment. I had at that period an idea that the whole of these birds were 
descended from the same stock. If not correct in this supposition, I had 
ample proof afterwards that the brood of young Pewees, raised in the cave, 
returned the following spring, and established themselves farther up on the 
creek, and among the outhouses in the neighbourhood. 
