rently of coarse twigs and roots, with what
looked like bits of turf or moss showing through the sides, and why it
did not fall off in the first strong wind was a mystery. Parallel with
the limb on which it rested, and only a few inches above it, was another
branch, that must, one would think, be seriously in the way of the
coming and going, the feeding and care-taking, inseparable from life in
the nest.

[Sidenote: _THE NEST IN VIEW._]

From my post of observation, the thorn-tree was silhouetted against the
sky, for it stood on the edge of a slight descent. Every twig and leaf
was distinctly visible, while the openings in the foliage were so
numerous that not a wing could flit by without my seeing it. The nest
itself was partially veiled by a bunch of leaves. What the view might be
from the other side I did not investigate that morning; I preferred to
leave the birds the slight screen afforded by the foliage, for since
there could be no pretense of hiding myself from them, my desire was to
let them fancy themselves hidden from me, and so feel free from
constraint and be natural in their actions. I hoped, by approaching
quietly and unobtrusively, by being careful never to frighten or disturb
them in any way, to convince them that I was harmless, and to induce
them to forget, or at least ignore, my silent presence. And it seemed
possible that I might be gratified, for I had been seated but a few
minutes when a shrike flew up from the ground and entered the nest, and,
I was pleased to see, with no apparent concern about me.

For the next three hours I took my eyes off the nest only to follow the
movements of the owners thereof; and I learned that sitting had begun,
and that the brooding bird was fed by her mate. He came, always from a
distance, directly to the nest, alighted on the edge, leaned over and
gave one poke downward, while low yearning or pleading cries reached my
ears. Without lingering an instant he flew to a perch a foot above,
stood there half a minute, and then went to the ground. Not more than
thirty seconds elapsed before he returned to his mate, the cries greeted
him, the mouthful was administered, and he took his leave in exactly the
same way as before. He was a personage of methodical habits. This little
performance of seeking food on the ground and carrying it to his partner
on the nest was repeated five or six times in close succession, and then
he rose higher than his tree and took flight for a di