326 C. Naether—Amateur Photographer meets a Humming Bird Family


air, having before attached a long, dark-green string to the shutter

release.


Then, string in hand, I hid behind a camellia bush about 5 feet

from the nest, ready to “ snap ” the little brown bird mother the moment

she should resume her brooding activities. After a little time she came

whizzing through the air. She discovered me first of all, flying anxiously

about my head. Then she inspected the shiny legs of the tripod, and

lastly the camera—that big, black intruder with the immense, staring

eyes. Flash—and she was gone, only to return for a second scrutiny

of the camera. Once she was tempted to stick her long beak into one of

the shiny lenses and another time she almost perched on the “ line of

release ”.


Suddenly with a “ Zst, zst ”, which probably meant “ My eggs

will get chilled if I leave them uncovered any longer ”, she alighted

not on, but in the nest, nervously turning her head this way and that

half a dozen times before settling down to the business of incubating.

Her brownish colour blended with the dark-green foliage of the camellias.

Fortunately she turned her head toward the camera. The nest could

be photographed only from one side—unless, of course, I chose to

cut away the leaves and branches shielding it, which I did not care to

do. The light was fairly good on that somewhat murky March morning.

It was further dimmed by the lattice roof of the garden house (camellias

must have shade in order to thrive). I had set the lense opening at

eight and the shutter speed at 1/5 second. Slowly I began to pull the

long string so as not to frighten the bird whose eyes were fixed on the

camera. The moment she saw the string move she was gone with a

whir and a “ Zst ”. Quickly I stepped up to the camera to see that

everything was still in proper readiness and then resumed my watchful

waiting. Soon the bird returned, flying several times about the camera

before alighting on the nest. This time it was not the moving string

which disturbed her, but the click of the shutter. During the succeeding

exposures, however, she stuck to her guns, so to speak, and did not leave

the nest till I approached it to make the camera ready for the next

exposure. Of the half dozen snapshots showing nest with eggs, the one

accompanying this sketch turned out to be the most satisfactory.


Bright and early the following Sunday, I returned to the nest



