66 THE AUDUBON - BULLETIN 
freshly killed, and minus-a tail. When they were skinned, each showed 
that he had been pierced through the chest from the back, by needle-sharp 
talons. The next Sunday, April 8, it was seen calmly sitting in its grape- 
vine loop, tearing to pieces a Junco. Some boys reported to me later in 
the day that when they passed the little fellow, it was just beginning on a 
fresh Junco, and that nearby they had found a decapitated Cardinal, and a 
similarly headless Robin. Next day the owl himself had vanished. And 
the next day a boy brought in to the Museum a Saw-whet Owl which had 
been shot the day before by the Forest Park police! 
Kingbirds made a curious error of judgment, witnessed July 12. In 
mid-morning of a hot and sultry day I saw a tormented Nighthawk fly low 
across Proviso Athletic Field, trying to escape from two persistent King- 
birds. Every time one would make a vicious dive for its head, the Night- 
hawk would miss a wing-beat, duck, and give its queer cry. Apparently the 
Kingbirds thought it was a “regular” hawk. 
Robins, probably because of the great numbers always around, are 
material for several stories. “Two were brought in July 10. One was a 
half-feathered baby that had been rescued from a cat; the other a spotted 
juvenile about a month old, with a broken wing. The little one was kept in 
a canary cage for two weeks, so it would be close at hand for the necessary 
constant feedings. (For six weeks during late spring and early summer I 
carried home with me at night and back to the Museum in the morning a 
bird cage containing one or more squawking infant birds, too small to live 
from 6 P. M. to 10 A. M. without feeding.) When the little one was put 
in the big cage, it was laughable to see the other Robin, whose wing by now 
was nearly well, bustle up and take care of the newcomer. Most of the 
time for the next month this larger bird, only a little while ago a nestling 
himself, was rushing to get food for-his congener. Both of them, all grown 
up and well, were released August 27. One Robin is with us as a perma- 
nent guest. A neighbor found it, wing broken, in her yard, September 25. 
It is a handsome male, with a wide pattern of white around its eye. It has 
always been docile and friendly. Its wing healed, in time, but remains a 
little crooked, so that a flight of twenty feet twists it and brings it to earth. 
A Hermit Thrush, now known as “‘Hermie,” came to us in early April. 
It was found on Easter Sunday, sick, misshapen, and miserable, on a River 
Forest doorstep. It had, perhaps, been hit by a sling-shot; one wing was 
bruised and very swollen. Besides, about a quarter of an inch was gone 
from its upper mandible. No one thought Hermie would live. But Hermie 
is still with us. His two wings now match, folding neatly over his back. 
The horny part of the upper mandible has grown slowly, till now it is 
nearly as long as the lower. His plumage is in beautiful shape, and the air 
of alert confidence with which he goes about his business makes him a joy 
to watch. Perhaps when spring comes we should let Hermie go. But I 
am afraid his new confidence in man would be his undoing. 
