Our Feathered Friends

<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</SPAN></h2> <p class="caption3nb">HOW WE TOOK THE HUMMING-BIRDS' PICTURES.</p> <p><span class="smcap">There</span> are seventeen or eighteen kinds of humming-birds in the United States. Here in Southern California we have five of six. The largest of these is the Anna's Humming-bird.<SPAN name="FNanchor_20"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</SPAN> It was called "Anna's Hummer" in honor of a lady of that name.</p> <div class="footnote"> <p><SPAN name="Footnote_20"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></SPAN> <i>Calypte annae.</i></p> </div> <p>This bird measures about four inches from the tip of its beak to the end of its tail. The female is a mixture of gray and green underneath, with a shining green back. The male has a throat and head of changeable bright colors, which shimmer like some metallic substance as he turns about in the sunshine.</p> <p>The bill of these birds is five-eighths of an inch long, and the tongue is much longer. With this long, extensible tongue it can suck the honey from the deepest flowers. It may be seen about the petunias and the honeysuckle and the nasturtiums. There is plenty of sweet at the end of these trumpet-like flowers which the bees cannot reach with their shorter tongues.</p> <div id="img_1" class="fig_center" style="width: 623px;"> <ANTIMG src="images/img1.png" width-obs="623" height-obs="498" alt="" /> <div class="fig_caption">WE LIKE SUGAR, TOO.</div> </div> <p class="tdr2"><i>Page 100.</i></p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[ 101 ]</SPAN></span></p> <p>It was the Anna's Hummer which we photographed last year on purpose to put the pictures in this book, that those who do not have humming-birds nesting in their yards, or where they can study them, may see just how they look.</p> <p>We have no snow storms here, but in their place are long, cold rain storms, with many days of bright, warm weather between. Flowers bloom all the time, and the humming-birds see no reason why they should not attend to their housekeeping. It is as if they thought, "Now this storm is over, we will build our cradles," never once thinking of the possibility of there coming another storm before the birdlings are out of the nest.</p> <p>We were walking about in the yard one bright morning late in December, when a humming-bird poised herself above some pampas grass and stole a single tuft. This pampas grass sends up its long spikes of plumes in midsummer, and we always leave a few of them on purpose for the birds to get for their nests. They are very dusty and weather-beaten by winter, but that makes no difference, for the little separate tufts are good for crib beds.</p> <p>When we saw the bird at the pampas grass, we knew that she was nesting, so we watched her. She flew to a low shrub near the path and left the tuft. Then she <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[ 102 ]</SPAN></span> darted to a cypress hedge where there were plenty of spiders' webs. She gathered a bill full of this web and returned to the shrub. In a moment she was off to the pampas grass again, and we stole up to look. Not three feet from the ground was the beginning of the smallest nest. As yet it was a mere filmy platform set where two twigs joined hands, beneath a cluster of bluish-green leaves.</p> <p>The bird was shy and would not return while we were in sight, so we went away and waited, knowing that we must be very careful not to disturb her if we wished her to finish her nest.</p> <p>Taming this little bird was the work of many days. At first we sat perfectly still on the door-steps, not ten feet away. She saw us even there, and would wait in the trees above for a long while before she was quite sure we would not harm her. In a day or two we could sit on the steps or move about, but not too near. Before the nest was as large as a walnut the bird allowed us to watch her a few feet away, provided we stood motionless. She was indeed a delicate creature, winding the web around and around, so that the pampas tufts should be thick and firm.</p> <p>On New Year's day the first tiny oblong white egg was laid. It was a gem, the size of a navy bean, in a nest-setting of silver-gray softness. We clasped our hands in delight at this beginning of what would be living rainbow tints. In four days its mate was laid by its side. These birds always lay just two eggs. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[ 103 ]</SPAN></span> Every day the mother bird was adding more web and lichens and pampas tufts, turning about gently and rapidly to shape the nest around her.</p> <p>We have never seen any birds except the hummers who add to their nests during incubation and after the young are hatched. On the twentieth day of January the first egg was hatched. We stole up to look, and there at the bottom of the small cradle was what looked like a tiny black grub, perfectly bare. We imagined the mother was very happy and thinking in her dear little heart how much the baby resembled its father.</p> <p>The father, as is the custom of the males of these humming-birds, was away in the foothills sucking sweets from the mountain flowers, and leaving to his mate all the care of the household. It seems very selfish of him, but the mother bird may be very glad to be without him. What does a father humming-bird know about taking care of such tiny babies?</p> <p>One day later than its mate the other egg was hatched, and there were a pair of black, bare grubs. They had no bills, except a tiny point in the middle of the mouth, which they kept open in a coaxing way. They could move nothing but their heads, and their eyes were shut tight. How carefully the mother fed them. Many a time, looking on at meal-time, we were tempted to caution the mother lest she thrust her bill a little too far down the small throats. She winked her black eye at us, while we stood with uplifted finger, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[ 104 ]</SPAN></span> as much as to say, "Don't be afraid, I have nursed babies before."</p> <p>As the birdlings grew, the nest had to be enlarged, and it took every minute of the mother's time to keep the household matters in order. In a few days down began to appear upon the birds, and then a shimmering green on the backs, like that of the mother's dress. Young male hummers do not get the bright head and throat until the first moult. When the birds were thus clothed, the mother did not seem to think it necessary to build the nest up about them any higher, so the birds were crowded out gradually as they grew, until they were obliged to sit on the edge, a pair of the sweetest twins one ever saw.</p> <p>A storm came down from the mountains and surprised the faithful little mother, but she sheltered the babies as best she could until we came to the rescue with a gingham apron, which we pinned in place above the nest, making a complete shelter for all. We kept this apron in place for a week, or until the storm was over. People passing by must have thought us very queer housekeepers to spread our washing in the front yard, but we did not stop to explain.</p> <p>By this time the bird had grown so trustful that we could do almost anything without scaring her. We fed the young with syrup on the ends of our fingers, while the mother looked on astonished. They would put out their fine thread-like tongues and look at us from their tiny black eyes, as if thanking us. Their bills had grown out until they were quite respectable by the time the babies sat on the edge of the nest.</p> <div id="img_2" class="fig_center" style="width: 623px;"> <ANTIMG src="images/img2.png" width-obs="623" height-obs="482" alt="" /> <div class="fig_caption">LEAVING THE NEST.</div> </div> <p class="tdr2"><i>Page 104.</i></p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[ 105 ]</SPAN></span></p> <div id="fig_28" class="fig_center" style="width: 454px;"> <ANTIMG src="images/fig_28.png" width-obs="454" height-obs="376" alt="" /> <div class="fig_caption"><span class="smcap">Anna's Humming-Birds.</span></div> </div> <p>As soon as the mother became tame enough, we took the pictures, as you see them. While we stood at the nest, she would fly all about our faces and look at our ears and eyes, and buzz at our hair in a very funny way. Once we bent the twig from its place in the shrub, and held it close to our faces, and the mother fed the young, brushing our cheeks with her gauzy wings. Then we tied it back to its old place when the mother had flown away. She came back and flew in our faces, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[ 106 ]</SPAN></span> as if she expected to find the babies there. Not finding them with us, she went back to the shrub as if nothing had happened.</p> <p>It was a wonderful thing to have this shy bird so trustful and willing to have her photograph taken.</p> <p>The older of the two birds left the nest first, and we had hard work to get him to be still enough for the last sitting. The mother came down and sat between the two birds on the twig, and looked at the bird who wouldn't keep still, as if she were scolding him.</p> <p>She seemed just like a real person taking her baby to the artist's to have his picture taken. Once two strange old hummers came when we were taking the pictures, and bothered us a good deal. They made our mother hummer nervous and cross, and she drove them away. It seemed to us that these birds wanted to have their picture taken too, but we could not quite catch them, because they were not well enough acquainted with us and the camera.</p> <p>One day the babies left the old battered nest and flew to the trees. The rim of the nest was torn and worn away by the feet of the mother as she stood to feed the young. We noticed that for a few days after they were hatched she fed them every fifteen minutes, but as they grew stronger she gave them their food only once an hour, or at even longer intervals.</p> <div id="img_3" class="fig_center" style="width: 623px;"> <ANTIMG src="images/img3.png" width-obs="623" height-obs="424" alt="" /> <div class="fig_caption">MOTHER BIRD POISED ON HUMMING WINGS.</div> </div> <p class="tdr2"><i>Page 106.</i></p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[ 107 ]</SPAN></span></p> <p>After they had flown, there came a hard storm, and we went out in the morning expecting to find the babies dead on the ground. But not so; there they sat in the sunshine above our heads, as safe as could be. They remained about in the yard for two or three weeks, when they disappeared, no doubt going to the foothills to join their father at sucking sweets and flitting among the vines.</p> <div class="fig_center" style="width: 132px;"> <ANTIMG src="images/bar_dot.png" width-obs="132" height-obs="10" alt="bar with diamond" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />