140 R. S. de Q. Quincey—Hardiness of a Humming-bird


This bird has only one feeding bottle, which is hung up in a slightly

heated shelter (the heat was put on in mid-October), so that he has to

use this shelter to feed in, and on some nights in October and November

I am certain that he used it to roost in, but I do not think that he ever

roosts in it now, unless it is particularly windy when the sun goes down.


The shelter shed (a wooden affair, about 12 by 8 feet, with a glass

top light and glass windows) is divided into four compartments. Even

with the heat on, one can never guarantee that a really sharp frost

will not cause water in it to freeze. The open flight he occupies is

approximately 40 by 20 feet, and about 12 feet high.


Up to early in October he roosted almost invariably on a thin dead

branch, rather higher than anything else in his aviary, and exposed

to any wind that blew.


I got it into my head that he was sleeping regularly in the shelter

after the heat was put on, but perhaps he seldom did so, for on a very

cold night in January something went wrong with the circulation of the

water in the hot pipes, and I had to go into this shelter to let air out

of them. On that occasion and on several occasions subsequently,

I sought the shelter (which is very sparsely furnished with branches)

for him, but he was nowhere to be found and, presumably, outside.

I often see him now, roosting high up in an exposed Sea Buckthorn.


He is incredibly fit—always sleek and snake-like, with none of those

puffed-out feathers one sees on specimens subjected to stuffy heat.


You might think him a dull coloured bird until you see him sitting

slightly below you, two or three feet away, sunning himself, when

the dull dark blue of his head, throat, and breast flash sapphire, pale

sapphire and turquoise, his green back shines, and his flame-treated

steel-coloured tail is spread for all to see.


I did have a moment of fearfulness in October, and caught him up

and caged him in the greenhouse. (I dared not let him loose among

the other Hummers in it, as I had sampled his ferocity towards two

poor White-bellied Emeralds that were put for a few short moments

in his aviary in the summer.) He was like all the wild, newly-caught

linnets in Club-row, and I determined that he should die of frostbite

rather than tear his lovely self to ribbons in a cage. He is quite fearless

of other birds and, if hungry, will feed out of the bottle from one’s



