Now the tapping brought to view a Downy Woodpecker, then a beautiful Golden Swamp Warbler: sometimes unexpectedly a great gray mouse scrambled out and plunged boldly into the water beneath; but this time the blow was followed by a subdued hum from within, and an inquiring, anxious parent Chickadee appeared
suddenly on the scene, joined in a moment by a second, and we had the family complete. It was near noon, the sun was shining brightly, the hole was on the water side of the stub in the light, and we had no Chickadee pictures; so we camped at once and prepared to ‘do’ the situation. A little investigation showed the
nest to be too high for setting up the camera satisfactorily, as the tripod legs sank deep in the mud and water. But our kit included a saw for just such an emergency, and sawing off the soft stub at the proper height, it was lowered gently until the hole came just on a level with the camera, placed horizontally and at a distance of about three feet. Propped with a forked stick, it rested quite securely on the soft bottom. This was better than tipping
the camera and employing the ‘swing back,’ as the sun was nearly overhead. After focusing carefully on the opening in the stub, attaching to the camera fifty feet of small rubber tubing with large bulb, in place of the usual short tube and small bulb, setting carefully the trigger and other accessories of our harmless gun, and covering the whole camera with a hood of rough green cloth, the lens alone visible, we retreated to a convenient vantage point among the small willows close by. But a few minutes elapsed before the old birds were on the spot peering at us and the big green object from all sides. In an incredibly short space of time, considering the great liberties that had been taken with their habitation and door yard, they became resigned, and one of the birds, which we assumed to be the female, flew straight to the stub, and, with a last suspicious glance at the great glistening eye so near at hand, disappeared into the hole with a large brown worm in her bill. But that momentary delay was the looked-for opportunity, and all-sufficient; for with a quick squeeze of the bulb, click went the shutter, and in the twenty-fifth of a second the bird was ours; shot without so much as knowing it, without indeed the ruffling of a
feather or the drawing of a drop of blood, and preserved lifelike and true to nature for all time to come.
From this time on the birds came and went without hesitation, the only serious delays in our operations being due to the drifting clouds, which now and then obscured the sun and rendered the light too weak for the rapid exposures necessary. One of the birds, the one we took to be the female, was a little more courageous
