File:A-birding on a bronco (1896) (14770183793).jpg

Identifier: abirdingonbronco00bail (find matches)
Title: A-birding on a bronco
Year: 1896 (1890s)
Authors: Bailey, Florence Augusta (Merriam), 1863-
Subjects: Birds Birds
Publisher: Boston, New York, Houghton, Mifflin
Contributing Library: Smithsonian Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Smithsonian Libraries

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led up about him likea threatening raven, croaking away sepulchrallydirectly overhead, bending down gazing at us outof his yellow eyes as if to see how we took it.It was a laughable sight. Blackbirds seem suchhuman, humorous birds one can almost fancythem playing such pranks just for the fun of it. The blackbird colony was a busy one nesting-time. The builders would fly down to the road toget material, stepping along quickly, looking fromside to side with an alert, business-like air, as ifthey knew just what they wanted. Some of themused the button-balls to line their nests. A pair had built in one of the round mats ofmistletoe at the end of a branch, and while look-ing at the nest one day I was amazed to see abutcherbird come flying in a straight line towardit. He did not reach his destination, for whilestill in air both blackbirds darted down at himand drove him back faster than he had come.The guardian of the nest escorted him almosthome, and when the victorious pair were returning
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AMONG MY TENANTS. 125 they were joined by a noisy band of indignantmembers of the blackbird clan. I watched this attack with great interest, notknowing that shrikes were concerned in black-bird matters, and also because it was welcomenews that one of these strange characters hadrented a lot of me. I made a note of the directionmy outlaw tenant took when driven ignominiouslyhome, and at my earliest convenience called.Such cruel tales are told of his cold-blooded wayof impaling birds and beasts upon thorns andbarbed wires that one naturally looks upon himas a monster; but I found that he, like manyanother villain, turns a gentle face to his nest. He had pitched his tent on the farthest outpostof my ranch in a little bunch of willows, weeds,and mustard — long since converted into a well-kept prune orchard. The nest, which was a biground mass of sticks, was inside the willows ina clump of dry stalks about six feet from theground. I had hardly found it before one of thebuilders swooped d

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