the mother bird marked with red.

The male was in full plumage, and I reluctantly shot him for a
specimen. Passing by the place again next day, I paused a moment to
note how matters stood. I confess it was not without some
compunctions that I heard the cries of the young birds, and saw the
widowed mother, her cares now doubled, hastening to and fro in the
solitary woods. She would occasionally pause expectantly on the
trunk of a tree and utter a loud call.

It usually happens, when the male of any species is killed during
the breeding season, that the female soon procures another mate.
There are, most likely, always a few unmated birds of both sexes
within a given range, and through these the broken links may be
restored. Audubon or Wilson, I forget which, tells of a pair of fish
hawks, or ospreys, that built their nest in an ancient oak. The male
was so zealous in the defense of the young that he actually attacked
with beak and claw a person who attempted to climb into his nest,
putting his face and eyes in great jeopardy. Arming himself with a
heavy club, the climber felled the gallant bird to the ground and
killed him. In the course of a few days the female had procured
another mate. But naturally enough the stepfather showed none of the
spirit and pluck in defense of the brood that had been displayed by
the original parent. When danger was nigh he was seen afar off,
sailing around in placid unconcern.

It is generally known that when either the wild turkey or domestic
turkey begins to lay, and afterwards to sit and rear the brood, she
secludes herself from the male, who then, very sensibly, herds with
others of his sex, and betakes himself to haunts of his own till
male and female, old and young, meet again on common ground, late in
the fall. But rob the sitting bird of her eggs, or destroy her
tender young, and she immediately sets out in quest of a male, who
is no laggard when he hears her call. The same is true of ducks and
other aquatic fowls. The propagating instinct is strong, and
surmounts all ordinary difficulties. No doubt the widowhood I had
caused in the case of the woodpeckers was of short duration, and
chance brought, or the widow drummed up, some forlorn male, who was
not dismayed by the prospect of having a large family of half-grown
birds on his hands at the outset.

I have seen a fine cock robin paying assiduous addresses to a female
bird as late as the middle of July; and I have no doubt that