"This species builds at the foot of a small tree a kind of hut or cabin, some two feet in height, roofed with orchid stems that slope to the ground, regularly radiating from the central support, which is covered with a conical mass of moss sheltering a gallery round it. One side of this hut is left open, and in front of it is arranged a bed of verdant moss, bedecked with blossoms and berries of the brightest color. As the ornaments wither they are removed to a heap behind the hut and replaced by others that are fresh. The hut is circular and some three feet in diameter, and the mossy lawn in front of it is nearly twice that expanse. Each hut and garden is believed to be the work of a single pair of birds. The use of the hut, it appears, is solely to serve the purpose of a playing-ground, or as a place wherein to pay court to the female, since it, like the bowers built by its near relatives, are built long before the nest is begun, this, by the way, being placed in a tree."

[Illustration with caption: SPOTTED BOWER-BIRD, AT WORK ON ITS
UNFINISHED BOWER Foreground garnished with the bird's playthings.
(From A. S. Le Souef, Sydney. Photo by F. C. Morse)]

Most Birds Fear Man. With the exception of those that have been reared in captivity, nearly all species of wild birds, either in captivity or out of it, fear the touch of man, and shrink from him. The birds of the lawn, the orchard and the farm are always suspicious, always on the defensive. But of course there are exceptions. A naturalist like J. Alden Loring can by patient effort win the confidence of a chickadee, or a phoebe bird, and bring it literally to his finger. These exceptions, however, are rare, but they show conclusively that wild birds can be educated into new ideas.

The shrinking of wild birds from the hand of man is almost as pronounced in captivity as it is in the wilderness, and this fact renders psychological experiments with birds extremely difficult. It is really strange that the parrots and cockatoos all should take kindly to man, trust him and even like him, while nearly all other birds persistently fly, or run, or swim or dive away from him. A bird keeper may keep for twenty years, feeding daily, but his hawks, owls and eagles, the perchers, waders, swimmers and upland game birds all fly from him in nervous fear whenever he attempts to handle them. The exceptions to this rule, out of the 20,000 species of the birds of the world, are few.

Wild Birds that Voluntarily Associate with Man. The species that will do so are not numerous, and I will confine myself to some of those that I have seen.

The Indian adjutant, the mynah, hoopoe, vulture, robin, phoebe bird, bluebird, swallow, barn owl, flicker, oriole, jay, magpie, crow, purple grackle, starling, stork, wood pigeon, Canada goose, mallard, pintail, bob white and a few other species have accepted man at his face value and endeavored to establish with him a modus vivendi. The mallard and the graylag goose are the ancestors of our domestic ducks and geese. The jungle fowls have given us the domestic chickens. The wild turkey, the pheasants, the guinea fowl, the ostrich, the emu and the peacock we possess in domestication unchanged.

Caged Wild Birds Quickly Appreciate Sanctuary. Mr. Crandall reports that in the Zoological Park there have been many instances of the voluntary return to their cages of wild birds that have escaped from them. The following instances are cited, out of many that are remembered:

A wild hermit thrush, only two weeks in captivity, escaped from an outdoor cage. But he refused to leave the vicinity of his new home, and permanent food supply. He lingered around for two or three days, and finally a wise keeper opened the cage door when he was near it, and at once he went in.

A magpie escaped from an outside cage, and for a week he lingered around it unwilling to leave its vicinity. At last the other birds of the cage were removed, the door was left open, and the magpie at once went back home.

Bird Memory and Talk. Birds have few ways and means by which to reveal their powers of memory. The best exhibits are made by the talking parrots and cockatoos. The feats of some of these birds, both in memory and expression, are really wonderful. The startling aptness with which some parrots apply the language they possess often is quite uncanny. Concerning "sound mimicry" and the efforts of memory on which they are based, Mr. Lee S. Crandall, Curator of Birds, has contributed the following statement of his observations: