38 Bird- Lore
bark—covered retreat. or sets up a vine- draped tent from which to observe and pho- tograph birds, sometimes using ingenious devices by which the perching bird literally takes its own picture, is the only one whose observations of the living bird are of serious value, the patient waiterwho, having located a nest, or even suspected its location, goes quietly, sits down and waits. Do you remember what that quaint individuality who wrote under the name of "Nessmuck" said about waiting? “There is an art little known and practiced. that invariably suc— ceeds in nutflankiug wild animals: an art simple in conception and execution, but rc- quiring patience: a species, so to speak, of high art in forestry—the art of sitting on a log." Now, many bird students do not care to sit on logs and wait; their time is limited and they wish to produce certain results with little trouble. Instead of going to the nest. they remove nest, young birds and all. to a place of visual or photographic vantage, trusting to the parental love to follow and tend the young or to hover in an agony oi tear until the nest is returned; anything, in short, so that they do not intcnliwmlly kill the birds; if they die from exposure. long lasting, etc.,—vwell, it’s a pity, happen, you know,
A few years ago a writer in "Recreation" expressed a doubt about the general study of the living bird by the masses, saying (I can» not quote literally) that "it the birds could speak they would say, ‘Love us and leave us alone.‘" At the time it seemed rather sweeping, but a few year‘s experience proves it true as far as the nesting season goes. Tne intimate study of the home»lile and habits of wild birds should be done by the individual the same as the study of its anat~ omy. and not attempted by the mob.
The promiscuous field bird class should be for the identification of the adult bird alone, not the terreting out of nests, I once inadvertently drove a pair of rare warblers from my own woods. Through thoughtless- ness I took two bird lovers to see the nest on the same day, which bred distrust in the parent birds, though they were perfectly accustomed to me, and they abandoned the
butv accidents will
nearly hatched eggs. What damage can be done to a park or grove, as a breeding haunt, if a dozen or twenty people are “personally conducted " to examine its various nests and literally addle the unhatched eggs by mis- placed enthusiasm!
It is the solitary student capable of sitting on the log, who sees the things and makes the discoveries. Among our women students Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller was, I think, the first to practice this theory. There is little of value to be learned by what a recent nature story calls “A Cook‘s Tour in Bird- land,” the leader of which goes to any length to show a given amount for given pay, irre- spective of damage to the birds, or to ob- tain a marketable photograph at any cost, or an exhibition in a minor degree of the same spirit of commercialism that de- prives birds of their plumage to supply the millinery market.
In short, as the wild slowly but surely is becoming subiect to the civilized, extreme conservatism must prevail in all branches of nature study it we expect to still have nature to study. Also. the economic effect is the same whether a collector robs a nest, care~ less observers cause it to be abandoned, or the young die from an overdose of pho- tography.
A story of the study of a living bird is going the rounds of the papers. It concerns experiments recently made at Antwerp re~ garding the swiftness of a Swallow’s flight.
The bird was nesting in the gable of the railway station, and it was sent to a point 140 odd miles away. On being liberated the bird flew back to its nest in one hour and eight minutes, or at the rate of 128 miles per hour. What does this teach,~—can that flight under the spur of parental anguish be considered typical?
Once upon a time there was a little boy, a very bright, inquiring lad, who, it he often got into mischief, probably did it because, with boys, mischief and brightness are fitted as closely together as the rind to the orange. This boy joined the Audubon Society, put his popgun away in the garret, and resolved in future only to add spoiled eggs to his cabinet.
He listened to a lecture about the obser-
