t for a moment
did she dare to relax her vigilance. Had she done so, in that fatal
moment a hawk might have swooped upon her and crushed her in his
merciless talons.

Yet some birds will take not a little risk, depending on their
quickness of eye and nimbleness of wing to escape their predatory foes.
In a tall sycamore tree standing alone at the fringe of a piece of
woodland, sparrow hawks, red-breasted woodpeckers, and nuthatches, a
pair of each, had set up their household gods. The tree was still bare
of foliage, for it had few branches, and the season was early spring.
It was evident, too, that the hawks were watching for an opportunity to
assault their neighbors, to whom they often gave chase. Yet the
woodpeckers had in some way contrived to hew out their arboreal
nursery, which was almost, if not quite, finished. It was a freshly
chiseled cavity, as could be seen plainly from below. The mother
nuthatch was feeding her young. She would fly to the tree with an
insect in her bill, calling "Yank, yank," or "Ha-ha, ha-ha," as if to
announce her arrival, then glide around the branch, scurry down its
sloping wall, swing to the underside where the nest hole was, and jab
the juicy morsel into the chirruping throat of one of the bantlings
within. The bloodthirsty hawk dashed at her several times, but she
deftly dodged around to the other side of the branch, and let him glide
harmlessly by, flinging after him a taunting "Ha-ha, ha-ha," as much as
to say, "Missed your aim again, didn't you!" However, it was a pretty
picture the nuthatch made, holding in her bill a large beetle with
silvery wings, sometimes holding it straight out from the bark as she
glanced around to see whether the coast was clear and at the same time
calling her nasal "yank," so full of woodsy suggestion.

A trying experience for many birds comes at bedtime. They grow quite
nervous as night begins to settle over the land, some of them chirping
loudly to express their solicitude. As the darkness deepens, their
sight becomes obscured, and they seem to realize that they are exposed
to dangers unseen. You have often, no doubt, noticed the to-do made by
the robins as the time for retiring draws near. What foes may be
lurking in the growing darkness they know not.

A favorite roosting place for the sparrows, towhees, juncos, and even
the robins, was in some thickets by the roadside. As I passed along, a
bird would occasionally leap from his perch