. Crusoe's Island; a bird-hunter's story . shoot at them, forfear I might wound or kill my own Psittacus. Asaber-wing humming bird flew by, poised himself aninstant on buzzing wings, and then departed with awhiz and a whirr. But he had delayed his departuretoo long, for at the report of my gun he fell into theferns. By the rivulet-side I took a humming birds nestfrom the pendent leaf of a palm fringed with sharpspines. This was the nest of the sicklebill hummer,sometimes called the Doctor, which often affixesits nest to the under side of a balisier leaf, whereit has complete shelter from the s
. Crusoe's Island; a bird-hunter's story . shoot at them, forfear I might wound or kill my own Psittacus. Asaber-wing humming bird flew by, poised himself aninstant on buzzing wings, and then departed with awhiz and a whirr. But he had delayed his departuretoo long, for at the report of my gun he fell into theferns. By the rivulet-side I took a humming birds nestfrom the pendent leaf of a palm fringed with sharpspines. This was the nest of the sicklebill hummer,sometimes called the Doctor, which often affixesits nest to the under side of a balisier leaf, whereit has complete shelter from the sun and rain. Meanwhile I was whistling for trogons at inter- HOME OF THE HUMMING BIRDS. Ill vals, and was at last rewarded by a distant into my voice all the seductiveness possible,I succeeded in attracting a trogon to the valley ; butit was some timebefore I discov-ered it, as thenotes of the tro-gon are in a meas-ure ventriloquial,in common withthe voices of manyother birds. Ithas the quality ofseeming afar off when it is. quite near, and while I waslooking for the bird it wassitting quietly over my head,replying to my every did not want to shootthe bird, only to enliven thesomberness of the vale by alittle color, and so I whistledagain until there were finallymany trogons about me, which,seeing that I would do themno harm, lingered among thetree ferns, and kept me com-pany all the day. While watching the birds that camein response to my calls, and walking slowly along theedge of the stream, I got a bad fall, my attention be-ing fixed upon the treetops instead of the earth. Sicklebill Humming Birdsand nest. 112 CRUSOES ISLAND. The rocks were slippery and over I went, slidingdown a long cascade, and plunging through a screenof vines into a small but deep pool, where I was com-pletely submerged. The fall was a severe one, andwhen I had got out on the rocks again I foundmy wrist badly sprained and rapidly turning black,from a blow received while trying to
Size: 1275px × 1960px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidcrusoesi, booksubjectbirds
