The Condor, Volume 7

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Cooper Ornithological Club, 1905
 

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Page 147 - THE AMERICAN NATURAL HISTORY. A Foundation of Useful Knowledge of the Higher Animals of North America.
Page 48 - American | Ornithology ; | or, | The Natural History | of | Birds Inhabiting the United States, | not given by Wilson.
Page 64 - ... disappeared. He merely dropped out of existence, as Bradford Torrey says of his ruby-throat, leaving a widow with the twins on her hands. This always seems to be the case, for at the different nests where I have watched, I never but once saw the male hummer near the nest after the children were born. I was lying in the shade of the bushes a few feet from the nest one afternoon. For two whole days I had been watching and photographing and no other hummer had been near. Suddenly a male darted up...
Page 56 - These will go in time to be received, with your greetings, on Christmas Day, and Bird-Lore will follow, as published, throughout the year. A valuable present, easily made, whether to a friend or to yourself.
Page 94 - ... innermost depths, and then pin it carefully together again. Anybody would fall in love with a bush-tit, even if he were not the chickadee's cousin. If it were not for his tail, the fluffy midget would be no larger than your thumb. He does not possess the aerial grace of a swallow, or even the nimbleness of a warbler. He bustles along in such a jerky way he often looks as if he would topple heels over head and go whirling to the ground like a tailless kite. But he is a skilled hunter. He skirmishes...
Page 148 - BIRD-LORE A Bi-Monthly Magazine Devoted to the Study and Protection of Birds Published for the National Committee of the Audubon Societies, as the official organ of the Societies.
Page 62 - ... convinced that I was harmless. She whirled and sat on the nest edge. The bantlings opened wide their hungry mouths. She spread her tail like a flicker and braced herself against the nest side. She craned her neck and drew her daggerlike bill straight up above the nest. She plunged it down the baby's throat to the hilt and started a series of gestures that seemed fashioned to puncture him to the toes. Then she stabbed the other baby till it made me shudder. It looked like the murder of the infants.
Page 96 - ... where the whistle was coming from, it sounded so scattering, like the elusive, grating call of the cicada. Then I saw a hawk sweeping slowly overhead, and the confusing chorus lasted as long as the hawk was in sight; nor did one of the little bush-tits seem to move a feather, but just sit and trill in perfect unison. It served as a unique method of protection; the whole flock had learned to act as a unit. It would have been hard for an enemy to tell where a single bird was, the alarm note was...
Page 24 - ... that grows everywhere in the desert regions of the southwest, can hardly believe that these fine trees, many of them sixty feet high and over, really belong to the same species. This magnificent grove is included In the Papago Indian Reservation, which is the only reason for the trees surviving as long as they have, since elsewhere every mesquite large enough to be used as firewood has been ruthlessly cut down, to grow up again as a scraggly bush.
Page 95 - This is all right for a city directory, and is almost as interesting. Think of labelling your friends in this way! You don't know a bush-tit any more when you have found him with a field-glass and identified him in your bird manual than you do a man when you are introduced to him and shove his card in your pocket. Each bird has a real individuality. Each is different in character and disposition from all others. I knew the bush-tit and chickadee were cousins before I ever heard of the Paridcs family.

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