costume of the male.

A curious habit of these hummers is worth describing. The males remain
in the breeding haunts until the young are out of the nest and are
beginning to be able to shift for themselves. Then the papas begin to
disappear, and in about ten days all have gone, leaving the mothers and
the youngsters to tarry about the summer home until the latter are
strong enough to make the journey to some resort lower in the mountains
or farther south. The reason the males do this is perhaps evident
enough, for at a certain date the flowers upon whose sweets the birds
largely subsist begin to grow scant, and so if they remained there
would not be enough for all.

In the San Francisco Mountains of Arizona, Doctor Merriam found the
broad-tails very abundant in the balsam timber and the upper part of the
pine belt, where they breed in the latter part of July; after which they
remain in that region until the middle of September, even though the
weather often becomes quite frosty at night. At break of day, in spite
of the cold, they will gather in large flocks at some spring to drink
and bathe. Doctor Merriam says about them at such times:

"They were like swarms of bees, buzzing about one's head and darting
to and fro in every direction. The air was full of them. They would
drop down to the water, dip their feet and bellies, and rise and
shoot away as if propelled by an unseen power. They would often dart
at the face of an intruder as if bent on piercing the eye with their
needle-like bills, and then poise for a moment almost within reach
before turning, when they were again lost in the busy throng.
Whether this act was prompted by curiosity or resentment I was not
able to ascertain."

As has already been said, there is not always unruffled peace in the
hummer family. Among the Rocky Mountains, and especially on the western
side of the range, there dwells another little hummer called the rufous
humming-bird, because the prevailing color of his plumage is reddish,
and between this family and the broad-tails there exists a bitter feud.
When, in the migrating season, a large number of both species gather
together in a locality where there is a cluster of wild-flowers, the
picture they make as they dart to and fro and bicker and fight for some
choice blossom, their metallic colors flashing in the sun, is so
brilliant as never to be forgotten by the spectator who is fortunate
enough to