58 
BIRD LIFE IN WASHINGTON 
the sleepers by hopping upon their bed. 
He is reminding them that there will be 
company to breakfast. He is sometimes 
photographed while he sits upon a camp¬ 
er’s foot. 
One day some boys caught an Oregon 
Jay for me so that I might paint his pic¬ 
ture. As it was wash day, I could not sit 
down to brush and paint at once. 
I put the bird into 1113' apron pocket 
and pinned the mouth of the pocket 
around his neck. He said but little but if 
my arm came too near, the plucky little 
fellow Hit it. 
One spring, with aching heart, I fol¬ 
lowed up the evidences of a tragedy. On 
the seventeenth of May I saw a parent 
bird upon the nest in a young fir. She 
allowed me to almost touch her. She was 
brooding four half fledged little ones. I 
left them in possession of the lonely bit of 
wood road, but I returned in a few days 
for another visit. Two little forms had 
vanished; one mangled body was on the 
ground; and the last baby, apparently 
sick, was still in the cradle. 
Again I returned to the place, the nest 
was empty. Both parents were still near 
it. Together we three gazed mournfully 
at the empty home. One bird gave a pa¬ 
thetic musical whistle and then both 
birds disappeared among the branches. 
What the author of the tragedy was, I do 
not know. Scenes like this are many. 
