ed of the truth of Lucien's assertion, as they saw it seize
one of the ruby-throats in the very act of entering the corolla of a
flower.

This excited the indignation of Francois, who immediately took up his
"double-barrel," and proceeded towards the tree where the bird, as
before, had carried this last victim. The tree was a low one, of the
locust or _pseud-acacia_ family, and covered all over with great thorny
spikes, like all trees of that tribe. Francois paid no attention to
this; but, keeping under shelter of the underwood, he crept forward
until within shot. Then raising his gun, he took aim, and pulling
trigger, brought the bird fluttering down through the branches. He
stepped forward and picked it up--not that he cared for such unworthy
game, but Lucien had called to him to do so, as the naturalist wished to
make an examination of the creature.

He was about turning to go back to camp, when he chanced to glance his
eye up into the locust-tree. There it was riveted by a sight which
caused him to cry out with astonishment. His cry brought the rest
running up to the spot, and they were not less astonished than he, when
they saw the cause of it. I have said that the branches of the tree were
covered with long thorny spikes that pointed in every direction; but one
branch in particular occupied their attention. Upon this there was about
a dozen of these spikes pointing upward, and upon each spike _was
impaled a ruby-throat_!

The little creatures were dead, of course, but they were neither torn
nor even much ruffled in their plumage. They were all placed back
upwards, and as neatly spitted upon the thorns as if they had been put
there by human hands. On looking more closely it was discovered that
other creatures as well as the humming-birds, had been served in a
similar manner. Several grasshoppers, spiders, and some coleopterous
insects were found, and upon another branch two small meadow-mice had
been treated to the same terrible death.

To Basil, Norman, and Francois, the thing was quite inexplicable, but
Lucien understood well enough what it meant. All these creatures, he
informed them, were placed there by the bird which Francois had shot,
and which was no other than the "shrike" or "butcher-bird"--a name by
which it is more familiarly known, and which it receives from the very
habit they had just observed. Why it follows such a practice Lucien
could not tell, as naturalists are not agreed upon this point. So