Did you ever hold a live hummingbird in your hand? Well, I have held
several of the wee, wee creatures. Did you ever look into a
hummingbird’s nest? Well, I have peeped into several of the tiny, downy
affairs.
Two of the nests contained eggs; one contained young birds. The eggs
were as small as an ordinary garden pea—perfectly egg-shaped. Can I
describe the young of the hummingbird? No, impossible. I can only say
that they are the smallest animal I ever saw in all my life. Of course,
that does not include the insect world.
How did I contrive to get hold of a live hummingbird? Easy enough when
you know how.
One hot afternoon in June I was sitting in a garden reading. A few yards
away stood a large bunch of brilliant carnations. Now, if there is
anything which a hummer fairly dotes on it is pinks. Suddenly I heard a
loud hum near by. I looked toward the carnations, and, sure enough,
there were too hummingbirds hovering around the flowers.
I watched their movements for several moments with great interest.
Presently I observed that one of the birds appeared to be entangled. Its
tongue, or long, needle-like beak, was caught in some manner in the
petals of a large pink. The little fellow kept fluttering around in a
helpless way, but could not liberate itself.
Instantly I dropped the book and ran over to the bed. The other
hummingbird darted away like a shot. I very softly took the tiny
prisoner in my hand and then gently liberated it. For half a minute or
more I held the trembling, fluttering creature in my hand. I wish I
could describe the beauty and brilliancy of its plumage. Silk, velvet
and the delicate tints of the rainbow are the only adequate words.
Finally I released the prisoner. In a flash he was out of sight.
One good fright was enough. Neither bird ever came back to the
carnations again. At least, the pinks were not visited by any more
hummingbirds that season.
Last summer I was out with a fishing party. We went far back into the
mountains, where it was rugged, wild and lonely. One day I was out
fishing along a rushing torrent. There was a deep, swirling eddy where I
was angling, and just on the bank stood a small cedar tree. A long,
slender limb hung only a few feet above my head.
While I was fishing a hummingbird came buzzing around my head. It kept
circling around me for some time. Finally I stopped fishing. Instantly
the bird alighted on a twig and eyed me closely with its bright
bead-like eye. A moment later the little mate arrived.
“Surely there must be a nest near by,” I said to myself. Then I began
fishing.
Both birds immediately came whirring about my ears like two hornets.
They kept it up until I desisted. Then both alighted and watched me
sharply. Again and again I tried to fish, but the little creatures would
give me no peace.
Down I laid my rod and began to look carefully for a nest. Sure enough,
there was one concealed amidst the cedar boughs. It was right above my
head where I stood fishing. Very gently I pulled the pendent branch down
until I could peep into the thimble of a nest, which contained beautiful
eggs. Meantime the birds kept buzzing around my head in a most
distracted manner.
Having satisfied my curiosity I quietly withdrew, to the evident delight
of the little parents.
On another occasion I was out in an orchard. I noticed two hummingbirds
flying around a certain apple tree limb. As I approached the birds
became more excited. When within a few yards of the tree I noticed a
young bird sitting on a nest. He was almost grown. Not wishing to
frighten the little chap, I stopped abruptly. But he darted away.
However, his wings were too weak, and down he sank fluttering, falling
into a big tuft of tall grass.
He was perfectly helpless, so I very tenderly picked him up and placed
him back on the nest. To my surprise and amusement he did not attempt to
escape, but stood up boldly and looked at me in a saucy, defiant way.
The parent birds were buzzing around me like angry bees, but when they
saw that I did not harm their offspring they both alighted near the
nest.
A large clump of wild currants stood in one corner of the yard. I
noticed two hummingbirds almost constantly hovering around the bush
among the large yellow flowers.
I went out one afternoon and secreted myself in the clump, in order to
observe more closely the actions and peculiarities of the birds. One was
the largest hummingbird I had ever seen, and its plumage was simply
gorgeous.
Soon the birds came around, but they did not seem in the least alarmed
by my presence. The larger one came very near, and actually flew against
my face. I held up my hand, when the bird flew straight into it. I
instantly closed my fingers and held him a prisoner. His plumage was
brilliant beyond description. As the beautiful captive did not seem to
resent my familiarity, I examined his coat carefully before giving the
bird its freedom.
I had still another experience with a hummer. On a bright summer day one
flew through an open door into a room where I was sitting. Quick as a
flash the bird discovered its mistake. It dashed against a window pane
with all its might and dropped on the floor. I hastily picked it up. It
seemed quite dead. But as I held it in my open hand, silently
sympathizing over its fate, the bird suddenly revived and flitted out
through the open door before I could wink.
J. Mayne Baltimore.