The artificial tree trunk would doubtless be of assistance in some kinds of bird-at-the-nest photography, especially when one desired to secure pictures of the old bird feeding its young, and was obliged therefore to make the exposure at just the proper moment. In most instances, however, there is sufficient undergrowth in the immediate vicinity to afford concealment, from which with the aid of a glass one may take note of events.
With the reflecting camera one may stalk birds on foot or with a boat, or “squeak” them into range by kissing the back of the hand vigorously, a sound which, during the nesting season especially, arouses much curiosity or anxiety in the bird’s mind.
The decoys, blinds, batteries, sneak boxes, etc., of the sportsman are also at the disposal of the hunter with a camera, though I must admit that my one outing to photograph bay birds over decoys resulted in an empty bag. It was in the spring, however, when the bay birds surviving had experienced two shooting seasons and were exceedingly wild. In the fall, with birds born the preceding summer, one might be more successful.
Birds may be sometimes brought within range of the camera by baiting them with food, and, after they have learned to expect it, placing the camera in suitable position. This may be most easily done when there is snow on the ground, at which time hunger makes most birds less suspicious of danger.
19. Catbird scolding.
From a considerable experience which, through poor equipment, has not yielded adequate return, I am convinced that one may secure excellent pictures of many birds by decoying them with either a mounted or living Owl; doubtless the latter would be preferable, though I have never tried it. With a poorly mounted Screech Owl, however, I have had some excellent opportunities to photograph. My plan is to select some spot where birds are numerous, preferably near the home of a Catbird,[19] place the Owl in a conspicuous position, and erect near it a “scolding perch,” from which the protesting bird may conveniently vituperate the poor unoffending little bunch of feathers with its staring yellow eyes. The camera is then focused on the scolding perch and the photographer retires into the undergrowth, and, bulb in hand, waits for some bird to take the desired stand.
A Catbird’s domain is chosen for the reason that this species is the alarmist of whatever neighborhood it may inhabit, and once its attention has been attracted to the Owl by “squeaking” or uttering the alarm notes of other birds, the photographer may subside and let the Catbird do the rest.
The bird’s rage is remarkable, its fear painful. Should the Owl be near to the Catbird’s nest it will utter notes in a tone of voice I have never heard it use on other occasions. It loses all fear of the camera, and from the scolding perch screams at the Owl with a vehemence which threatens to crack its throat. One is glad to remove the offending cause.
Other birds in the vicinity are of course attracted, and hasten to learn the meaning of the uproar. Often a bit of undergrowth, of which the Catbird was apparently the only feathered tenant, will be found to possess a large bird population. It is interesting to observe the difference in the actions of various birds as they learn the reason of the disturbance. On the whole, each species displays its characteristic disposition in a somewhat accentuated manner. The Blue-winged Warblers flit to and fro for a few moments and then are gone; the Chestnut-sided Warbler is quite anxious; the Maryland Yellow-throat somewhat annoyed; the Ovenbird decidedly concerned; the Towhee bustles about, but seems to pay no especial attention to the Owl; the Wood Thrush utters its sharp pit-pit, but is content to let well enough alone if its own nest be not threatened; and the Yellow-throated, Red-eyed, and White-eyed Vireos, particularly the latter, add their complaining notes to the chorus of protests. Not one, however, approaches the Catbird in the force of its remarks, nor does the bird cease to outcry so long as the Owl is visible.