across the oat
field that spread out from the mouth of the canyon. While they were
gone, I took the opportunity to inspect the tree, and found a large hole
with twigs sticking out suggestively. Presently, back flew one of the
wrens with more building material. But this line of sycamores was off
from the highway, and the bird was not used to prying equestrians; so
when she found Mountain Billy and me planted in front of her door, she
doubted the wisdom of showing us that it was her door. Chattering
nervously, she would back and fill, flying all but to the door and then
flitting off again. She could not make up her mind to go inside. But
soon her mate came and--unmindful of visitors, ardent little lover that
he was--sang to her so gayly that it put her in heart; and before I knew
it she had slipped into the tree.

Here was a nest, at last, right over my eye. To encourage myself while
waiting for something to happen, I began a list with the heading NESTS,
when something caught my eye overhead, and glancing up, behold, a
goldfinch walked down a branch and seated herself in a round cup! A few
moments later--buzz--whirr--a hummingbird flew to a nest among the brown
leaves of one of the low-hanging oak sprays not ten feet away! I simply
stared with delight and astonishment. No need of a list for
encouragement now. From Billy's back I could look down into the little
cup, which seemed the tiniest in the world. Forgetting the little lover
and his mate, I sat still and watched this small household.

The young were out of the eggs, though not much more, and their mother
sat on the edge of the nest feeding them. She curved her neck over till
her long bill stood up perpendicularly, when she put it gently into the
gaping bills of her young; the smallest of bills, not more than an
eighth of an inch long, I should judge. I never saw hummingbirds fed so
gently. Probably the small bills and throats were so delicate the mother
was afraid they would not bear the usual jabbing and pumping.

When the little ones were fed, the old bird got down in the nest,
fluffing her feathers about her in a pretty motherly way and settling
herself comfortably to rest, apparently ignoring the fact that Billy was
grazing close beside her. She may have had her qualms, but no mother
bird would leave her tender young uncovered on such a cold morning.

While she was on the nest, there was an approaching whirr, followed by a
retreating buzz--had the father bir