336 
well worth this trouble, and I have saved 
many undertimed snapshots in this way. 
The time came, at length, when [| was 
to have every facility for this study, and 
when, with wider experience, | could take 
full advantage of it. It came at a season 
when | had no idea of any more pictures of 
bird-nesting, unless of the ever tardy gold- 
finch—in mid-August. A road was being 
cut through a tract of woods, just back 
from the shore of a small lake. One after- 
noon they cut down a black birch tree, and 
the next morning, when one of the men 
was cutting it up, he heard a continued 
chirping, and, upon making investigation, 
found the nest of a hummingbird out on a 
slender branch of the fallen tree, about 
twenty-five feet up from the base. It was 
tipped over to one side, yet in it was a 
young hummer, clinging to the soft lining, 
and on the ground beneath it was another. 
They were nearly fledged, and just about 
able to fly. Taking pity on the poor little 
things, the man cut off the limb with the 
nest, fixed it firmly between two trees 
about five feet from the ground, and placed 
the little hummers upon it. At first they 
fluttered out, and, indeed, they seemed so 
much too large for the tiny cup that it ap- 
peared almost impossible for them both to 
fit in. But what man could not do, the 
birds did themselves, when they got good 
and ready. The men on the estate were 
much interested in the tiny creatures, and, 
fearing that they were abandoned to 
starve, sent to me to learn how to feed 
them. Fortunately, however, there was 
no need for clumsy human effort, which 
would have been unavailing. The mother 
bird soon found them, as she may have 
done already, and was busy feeding them 
long before | arrived, which was not until 
the next day. 
This is a most remarkable performance. 
The parent alights on the edge of the nest, 
and stands quietly for a moment, while the 
young are begging with all the eloquence 
and earnestness which would betoken 
a matter of life and death—as it cer- 
tainly is to them, poor little things! Per- 
haps she is deciding which youngster to 
favor, and making inward preparation for 
what naturalists call the act of regurgita- 
tion. Selecting the fortunate hopeful, she 
inserts her bill into the widely-opened 
mouth and forces it deep down into the 
V2. Lf, we om 
The Outing Magazine 
anatomy of the youngster. Then she 
rams it violently up and down, and with 
each jerk ejects from her crop the luscious 
nectar, a mixture of partly digested insects 
and honey. Sometimes she would bring 
a small whitish insect held at the tip of her 
bill, but when she fed this to the chick, she 
also continued the meal with other food 
from the store below. Meanwhile the 
other little fellow would appear terribly 
disappointed. Then the shutter would 
click, and she would dart away, but we 
may believe that the next time she knew 
enough to feed the other chick. 
I had only one more shot that afternoon, 
and then the sun sank behind the tops of 
the forest. In the little clearing the light 
only served from eleven to four o'clock, 
and the next day | gave this space of time 
to the work. At first | moved the nest 
lower down, and secured even better 
pictures of the young than I had done the 
day before. Just as I had made the last 
exposure which | desired, the old bird 
began to buzz around. One of the young 
became very uneasy. It stirred about in 
the nest and began to whir its wings. At 
first this had no effect, but presently the 
wings took hold upon the air, and the little 
one floated upward as slowly and gently as 
a feather, and reached a branch a dozen 
feet from the ground. I tried to catch it 
and put it back, but only made it fly up 
higher into the forest, and I saw it no more, 
though at times | could hear its little in- 
sect-like chirp. 
The nest was now in shadow, so | moved 
it a few yards out into open sunlight, and 
set the camera. Presently the mother 
bird returned, but did not see the nest and 
went off. Time dragged by, and she did 
not return. Alarmed and remorseful, | 
put the nest back close to its former loca- 
tion. The sun’s rays came to it, but not 
the mother. Meanwhile, the poor little 
chick chirped hungrily, and made my heart 
acheforit. Finally, well along in the after- 
noon, | heard the familiar buzz, and when 
the mother came and fed the chick, grati- 
tude and delight welled up in my soul. 
The old hummer now returned at frequent 
intervals, and | secured four more pictures. 
The following afternoon | drove my wife 
up to see the wonder, if, indeed, it were not 
too late. To our joy the tiny bird was still 
in the nest, and its mother most attentive. 
Menta, { $07 
