68 Bird -Lore in. Then Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow perched themselves on the cage and began skirmish- ing whenever the Wren came with a stick. They also sat by the half-dozen, on and about the Bluebird's box, squawking and charging on them frequently. At this point I decided to carry the war into Africa, and purchased a 22 -caliber rifle and some fine shot cartridges. Thus equipped, I watched my opportunity, and whenever I saw a Spar- row perched aloft or on the step at either door I fired to kill, and usually succeeded. I shot as often as possible when the other birds were absent, but killed Sparrows often when the Wrens looked on and seemed to twitter a song of rejoicing at the downfall of the enemy. Both Bluebirds and Wrens raised their broods in comparative peace with my aid and the good offices of the little gun. I must now record something (regretfully) against our dear little, cunning, happy Wren. I never could have believed it if I had not seen it. After the Bluebirds hatched and reared their six or seven little bluets, and they had gone to care for themselves, I thoroughly cleaned their house, and puffed insect powder into it. The old birds soon returned, re- built their nest and laid their eggs. One afternoon, as my wife sat on the rear piazza, some fifteen feet from the little English wal- nut tree in which the nest hung, she heard such a chattering about the box as to attract her attention and, looking, she beheld a Wren with a shell of a Bluebird's egg in its beak and another in a great glee over the wreck. She called me, and I went to the res- cue, but too late, for in the few minutes they had demolished every egg. The Blue- birds returned, examined the wreck and pil- lage, mourned about the box, going in and out, looking suspiciously at us, then left in seeming disgust and did not again return or attempt to rebuild. Notwithstanding all my shooting about the lot (a town lot), six kinds of birds besides the English Sparrow nested and reared their youngon the premises, much to our delight. In addition to these, a Downy Woodpecker, attracted by suet kept tied in a cherry tree near the kitchen window for his benefit in winter, pecked a hole for a winter home in the limb of a tree near the front piazza where the Wren-box was located and where I shot most of the Sparrows. How- ever, after the hard and tedious work of the Downy in the completing of a winter home, it was driven from it by the beastly Spar- row. Shoot him! — J. C. Allen, Hacketts- toivn, N. J. A Tragedy Walking back into the unfrequented part of the Glen one lovely autumn afternoon, I saw a large Hawk rise from the ground, and as the tail caught the sunlight, it was revealed as a Red-tailed — the comparatively leisurely flight seeming more surely to fix the identity. It was so unusual to see Buteo borealis thus rise from the ground that my suspicions were at once aroused, nor were they quieted when I saw the ground strewn with feathers. The natural conclusion was that a Plymouth Rock had met an untimely end, but curios- ity led me closer. To my amazement, the victim proved to be another Hawk, and an immature Red-tailed. The poor thing was still quite warm and limp, but the belly was ripped open by the murderous beak of the adversary and partly eaten. There had been a battle royal, for one wing was torn off and lay several feet distant. The toe of one foot was injured and bent about the adjacent one. It lay there a mute picture of vanquished greatness. A fine, majestic fellow it had been, and the upper breast with the deli- cately marked feathers still looked soft and vital. I tried to pull some of the tail-feath- ers, but they were too firmly grown. Fancy the terrific wrench required to sever the wing! It was too badly torn to make a good skin. The victorious Hawk loitered about, loath to give up its quarry, then finally flew quietly away. It was, to me, most surprising and hor- rible that a mature Hawk (and a Buteo not an Accipiter) should fight to the death and eat an immature bird of the same species. We do not expect Hawks to be altogether above reproach in their conduct toward feathered creatures, but that this Hawk of good repute should be caught in the act of avian homicide, as it were, seems most re- volting. — Lucy V. Baxter Coffin, Rich- mond, Ind.
