M. Amsler—Breeding Results at Delmonden Manor 45


These catastrophes all occurred with young under Red-breasts,

and in no case were the deaths of the young due to neglect by their

foster-parents, of this I am absolutely convinced.


I have before now stressed the high mortality among wild birds,

and these losses of valuable young were every time due to some

“ accident ” to one of the parents, almost always the hen Red-breast,

I do not feel justified in encroaching too much on the Editor’s space,

but should like to relate just one experience proving my theory that

it is the death of a parent which causes these disappointments. I have

a friendly cock Robin near my aviaries : we are on speaking terms and

he sits on my arm and takes food from my hand.


Last spring he began to require not one, but several meal-worms,

with which he always flew away. By repeating my bounty I was able

to trace him to his hen sitting on five eggs in a cupressus hedge. The

nest was beautifully concealed and I could never have found it without

my little guide.


In less than no time I had substituted five Bluebirds’ eggs which

hatched in about a week. I did not approach the nest for another

fortnight, but knew all was well as all my meal-worms were carried

to the nest.


At fourteen days there were five splendid Bluebirds and I could

already distinguish the sexes, four cocks and one hen. I unfortunately

decided to wait another two days—would that I had been less patient.

On visiting the nest again I found four young, cold and stiff on the

ground, and the fifth equally dead on the edge of the nest—five beauti¬

ful young birds worth their weight in gold, and not the slightest sign

of any injury ! I made sure that the hen had come to an untimely end

and that the young had thrown themselves out of the nest because

they were cold and wanted their mother. These experiences always

depress me for many days, but as I was walking away who should

turn up but my little cock Robin asking for food. A few meal-worms

were quickly picked up and carried into the cupressus where I thought

I could hear the little squeak which the hen gives when being fed

by her mate. This of course completely mystified me and I began to

suspect the Robins of cold-blooded desertion. It was only by repeating

my largess of meal-worms that I was able to follow up the Robins’



