Birds and Nature, Vol 10 No. 2 [September 1901]

While I was fishing a hummingbird came buzzing around my head. It kept circling around me for some time. Finally I stopped fishing. Instantly the bird alighted on a twig and eyed me closely with its bright bead-like eye. A moment later the little mate arrived.

“Surely there must be a nest near by,” I said to myself. Then I began fishing.

Both birds immediately came whirring about my ears like two hornets. They kept it up until I desisted. Then both alighted and watched me sharply. Again and again I tried to fish, but the little creatures would give me no peace.

Down I laid my rod and began to look carefully for a nest. Sure enough, there was one concealed amidst the cedar boughs. It was right above my head where I stood fishing. Very gently I pulled the pendent branch down until I could peep into the thimble of a nest, which contained beautiful eggs. Meantime the birds kept buzzing around my head in a most distracted manner.

Having satisfied my curiosity I quietly withdrew, to the evident delight of the little parents.

On another occasion I was out in an orchard. I noticed two hummingbirds flying around a certain apple tree limb. As I approached the birds became more excited. When within a few yards of the tree I noticed a young bird sitting on a nest. He was almost grown. Not wishing to frighten the little chap, I stopped abruptly. But he darted away. However, his wings were too weak, and down he sank fluttering, falling into a big tuft of tall grass.

He was perfectly helpless, so I very tenderly picked him up and placed him back on the nest. To my surprise and amusement he did not attempt to escape, but stood up boldly and looked at me in a saucy, defiant way. The parent birds were buzzing around me like angry bees, but when they saw that I did not harm their offspring they both alighted near the nest.

A large clump of wild currants stood in one corner of the yard. I noticed two hummingbirds almost constantly hovering around the bush among the large yellow flowers.

I went out one afternoon and secreted myself in the clump, in order to observe more closely the actions and peculiarities of the birds. One was the largest hummingbird I had ever seen, and its plumage was simply gorgeous.

Soon the birds came around, but they did not seem in the least alarmed by my presence. The larger one came very near, and actually flew against my face. I held up my hand, when the bird flew straight into it. I instantly closed my fingers and held him a prisoner. His plumage was brilliant beyond description. As the beautiful captive did not seem to resent my familiarity, I examined his coat carefully before giving the bird its freedom.

I had still another experience with a hummer. On a bright summer day one flew through an open door into a room where I was sitting. Quick as a flash the bird discovered its mistake. It dashed against a window pane with all its might and dropped on the floor. I hastily picked it up. It seemed quite dead. But as I held it in my open hand, silently sympathizing over its fate, the bird suddenly revived and flitted out through the open door before I could wink.

    J. Mayne Baltimore.

MY HUMMINGBIRD

No other fairy did I see
So graceful, pulsing, in the air,
As if the heart of nature beat
Its throbbings in the birdlet there.

The gray, the green, the dash of red,
The beating wings that gauzy seem —
So rapid the vibrating hum —
I almost dream were but a dream.

Then suddenly I cry aloud,
When in a rapid-shooting ray,
My fairy disappears, a-flash,
Into the sun-haunts far away.

    Willis Edwin Hurd.

THE RUFOUS HUMMINGBIRD

(Selasphorus rufus.)

This hardy little “Hummer,” which is even smaller than our well-known ruby-throated hummingbird, is weighted with a number of popular names. Among these are the “Rufous-backed Hummingbird,” the “Ruff-necked Honeysucker, or Hummingbird,” the “Rufous Flame-bearer” and the “Cinnamon Hummer.”

The Rufous is probably the most widely distributed of all the hummingbirds. Its range extends throughout Western North America. It breeds from the higher mountains of Southern California northward, near the coast to Nootka Sound, Alaska. In its migrations it flies eastward to Montana, Colorado and thence southward through New Mexico to Western Texas. In fact, during this period it frequents the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, adding beauty to this wild region. Its winter home is chiefly in Mexico and Lower California.

This Hummingbird is exceedingly pugnacious and, as Mr. Henshaw says, “The fiery red throat of the Rufous-backed Hummer is an index of impetuous, aggressive disposition, and when brought into conflict with the other species it invariably asserts its supremacy and drives its rival in utter rout from the field. Nor do the males of this species confine their warfare to their own sex. Gallantry has no place apparently in their breasts, and when conquest has put them in possession of a perch near a clump of flowers they wage war on all comers, females as well as males.”

The Rufous Hummer is one of the earliest of the migratory birds to leave its winter home, and arrives within the borders of the United States early in March and is known to begin housekeeping as far North as the State of Oregon early in April. Altitude as well as climate seems to have much influence in the selection of a nesting sight. The altitude of the breeding range seems to lie between four and seven thousand feet above the sea level, and nests have been reported as high as ten thousand feet.

Mr. A. W. Anthony, writing of this species as he observed it in Oregon, says that “they nested to some extent in oaks, blackberry vines and on dry roots projecting from upturned trees. One nest hung from the end of a tall fern, while others, drooping over it from above, hid the beautiful structure from all but accidental discovery. Their favorite sites, however, seemed to be the long, trailing vines overhanging embankments and upturned trees. A number were found in railroad cuts. One nest was found that had been placed on top of a last year’s habitation, a mere rim being built to raise the sides, and a flooring being added to cover up a large pebble that could be plainly felt under the cotton lining.” This habit of adding stories to nests of the previous season is not infrequent with other species of the hummingbirds.

The nest of the Rufous Hummingbird resembles those of many other species of hummers, and it is very much like that of the Anna’s hummingbird. The framework is composed of delicate tree mosses and fine bark fiber, the outer face of which is sometimes adorned with lichens, though not so profusely as is that of the Anna’s, and fastened together with spider’s webs and the silky threads from cocoons. It is lined with the fine cotton down of plants, especially that of the willow, and the pappus of the Compositae. These nests seem large when compared with the size of the bird. The average nest measures about one and one-half inches in the outer diameter and one and one-fourth inches in depth. “Their nesting sites may be looked for in low bushes as well as on the horizontal limbs of trees at various distances from the ground.” When compared with other species of the family this species is quite noisy, especially when it sees a broad-tailed hummer in the neighborhood. For this species it exhibits an intense animosity and will pursue it, uttering shrill and expressively angry notes.

WHAT A LITTLE MOUSE SAID

I am only a little mouse; my name is Wee Wee.

I live in a big house away out in California. My mother has made a very cozy home for us between the walls where it is nice and dark. We do not mind the dark, you know, for we can see even better then, with our little bright eyes.

Our bed is soft and warm and is made of tiny bits of paper which we children helped our mother to tear up and it is lined with some nice soft cotton which she picked out of a comforter one night when every-one had gone to church.

We have never been out very much but now, our mother says, we are big enough to help get the living. When she told us this, we all said: “Squeak, squeak, squeak,” which, in mouse language, meant that we were glad and thought it would be fine fun to leave our nest and go out into the big world.

But mother said: “Children, before you go I want to tell you something; listen well to what I shall say.”

And so we six little mice sat very solemnly in a row, on our hind legs and pricked up our ears and listened quietly while she went on. “You go through a narrow passage till you come to a little round hole and when you have squeezed through this you will find yourself in a big room called a kitchen. You must then run quickly across the floor and into the door of a bathroom. There is also a hole behind the bathroom door which you may need to jump into if anything happens. Next comes a nice, large pantry and in there you will find everything that we mice like to eat. Bring what you can carry, after you have eaten all you can, but do not eat too much or you will never be able to squeeze through the hole again. Now you must never go in the daytime, but wait until night.”

After telling us this, my mother left the nest saying that she was going to call on one of our neighbors who lived in an old felt hat, very near us. She said she might be gone some time, so, while my brothers and sisters were taking a nap, I thought to myself: “I don’t see why mother told me not to go in daylight. I am sure everything seems perfectly quiet now and I don’t think anything could hurt me; and I do feel so hungry. I guess I will go on a little trip, and ‘we shall see what we shall see.’” With that I crept out of the nest without making the least bit of noise and followed the directions my mother had given me.

Soon I found myself in the pantry and O! how good everything did smell. I found some cheese and I ate a very big hole in a white cake with icing on it and was just thinking what I could carry home as a surprise for the children when I heard a rushing noise like the patter of feet and I jumped behind some glass jars that were on the floor in the corner.

To my horror I saw very near me, for I could see right through the glass jar, a funny thing with long white wool and sharp teeth, a long, pointed nose and a terrible big red tongue hanging out of its mouth and little sharp black eyes that seemed to be looking clear through me. Oh! how I trembled and oh! how I wished then that I had obeyed my mother.

I saw now, when it was too late, that she knew best. Just then a big giant with dresses on came into the pantry and I heard her say: “That dog thinks there is a mouse in here.” So it was a dog and I remembered now that my mother had said one day that there was a spitz dog in that house.

The lady went out but the dog smelled me and was determined not to give me up so he ran to the big giant with dresses on and whined and whined until she came in again and said: “Well, Zip, I guess there must be a mouse here since you insist on it.” So she went out and got a long stick with a lot of straws on the end of it (she called it a broom), and with that she poked around all over the pantry, and the funny thing with long, white wool and sharp teeth kept smelling around and clawing at the glass jars till I thought I should die of fright. “It must be behind those jars, the way Zip acts,” she said; and she took the broom and knocked over all the jars with a crash. Well! I thought my time had surely come. My eyes filled with tears and my heart almost broke as I thought of my dear mother and all my sisters and brothers so happy at home.

But just in that terrible moment I happened to remember what my mother had said about running into that other hole in case anything should happen, so with one bound I was on the floor and the funny thing with long, white wool and sharp teeth made a grab for me. I could feel his hot breath close upon me and I could almost feel his sharp teeth when I heard the big giant with dresses on say: “Catch him, Zip.”

But surely a kind fate must have been with me for I was too quick for them. I never ran so fast in my life. I fairly flew till I found the hole behind the door and jumped in and ran along till I found myself once more at home, where all the family were frightened almost to death at my absence.

After that terrible experience I shall always do what my mother tells me to, for after all, she knows best.

    Jessie Juliet Knox.

ABOUT A SPARROW

There have been tales told about this curious little rowdy among birds. He was a nuisance; he drove our song and grub-eating birds away; he also littered the cornices of buildings and made of himself a pest in general. There have been other tales told about the cute chap who perches upon a wire near the window and rocks his clever head toward you when you tap against the pane; and still another story is told concerning the lynching of one by a flock of the brisk chaps. Some say they took a bit of twine, fastened it to a wire, secured the victim, and induced him to put his head through a loop; then drew the twine and scattered, leaving a lot of wise men to gaze upon the wonderful spectacle, which the newspapers took up and printed. I have watched birds for years and I never saw an incident of the sort – the lynching of a sparrow by his fellow sparrows! A sparrow has been caught in the loop of a bit of twine fastened to a wire or a cornice; but no sparrow ever deliberately put the twine up and lynched one of his rowdy brood. He wouldn’t do it simply because he hasn’t got bird instinct enough to follow out such a tragedy. I will tell you a little incident concerning a sparrow which I know to be true. It didn’t find a place in any newspaper, either, simply because I never gave it much thought until now, hence never mentioned it before.

I had noticed upon arising for several mornings in the early spring a half dozen or so of sparrows congregated in a sunny spot of the roof below. At first I paid no attention to it, for the sparrow is apt to go where he pleases, man’s wishes to the contrary notwithstanding. But the little chaps were there every morning, and in the same sunny spot. I was curious to know why they came there, and I went down stairs one morning to watch them from a more close point of observation. I got there before they came. I stood back of a closed blind, peeped through the slats and waited. When the sun-rays fell upon the spot close to the window the little fellows began to come – each with a morsel of food. They twittered and hopped about as if they were enjoying the morning fancy. Then they scattered and took wings to chimneys, cornices and wires. I opened the blinds and looked out. I saw one lone, little sparrow feeding. I bent over the sill. He did not fly away. I reached out and took him in. He fluttered and struggled. His eyes were covered with a film. He was blind.

    H. S. Keller.

THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW