uldn't break."
Most of the feathers were small, but there must have been several dozen
chicken's feathers from two to three inches long. Among them was a plume
of an owl.

[Illustration: POCKET NEST IN AN OAK]

Much to my surprise, in the bush-tit's nest there was a broken eggshell.
Had the egg broken in falling, or had a snake been there? One of the
boys of the valley told me about seeing a racer snake go into a
bush-tit's pocket. The cries of the birds rallied several other pairs,
and they all flew about in distress, though not one of them dared touch
the dreadful tail that hung out of the nest hole. As the snake was about
three feet long, the pocket bulged as it moved around inside. There were
four nestlings about a quarter grown, and the relentless creature
devoured them all. The boy waited below with a stick, and when it came
out, killed it and shook it by the tail till the small birds popped out
of its mouth. If my broken eggshell pointed to any such tragedy, it
cleared the birds of the accusation of being poor builders.

The nest, which the first day was a filmy spot in the leaves, by the
next day had become a gray pocket over eight inches long, although I
could still see daylight through it. In working, the birds flew to the
top of the open bag and hopped down inside. I could see the pocket shake
and bulge as they worked within. When they flew away to any distance,
on their return they almost always came with their little call of
_schrit, schrit_.

This nest was so low that I used to throw myself on the sand beneath the
tree to watch it, taking many a sunbath there, with hat drawn down till
I could just see the nest in the pendent branches, and watch the
changing mosaics made by the sky through the moving leaves. When resting
on the sand the thought of rattlesnakes came to me, for the brush on
either side was a shelter for them, and they might easily have crept up
beside me without my hearing them.

The second bush-tit's nest was shorter than the first one. Perhaps the
builders thought the length had something to do with the fall of the
first; or perhaps they didn't feel like collecting three hundred more
feathers, with oak blossoms and moss to match. They first put the frame
of the front door below the supporting cross twig, and then, as if they
thought it needed more support, changed it and put the door above the
twig, so that the roof could not possibly close the hole, even if it did
fall in. The doorwa