Though the flight of all hummingbirds is rapid, that of this species is unusually so. During the breeding season, or at least while mating, the flight of the male is accompanied by a loud metallic noise. This is only heard when the bird is rapidly flying and not when it is hovering over flowers. Mr. Henshaw suggests that this sound may be “analogous to the love notes of other birds.” Though he saw “many of these birds in the fall, it was only very rarely that this whistling note was heard, and then only with greatly diminished force.” He believed that the sound was produced at the will of the bird and by means of some peculiar attenuation of the outer primary wing feather. The nesting places of many of the hummingbirds, as well as that of the Broad-tail, may frequently be located by the peculiar perpendicular flight of the male. They will frequently fly as high as one hundred feet immediately above the vicinity of the nest, repeating the performance several times before alighting on some perch. The female is a faithful mother and will often remain on her nest until an intruder is within a few inches. The nest, though sometimes placed on large branches, is usually built but a few feet from the ground in low bushes or boughs that overhang water. In their migrations southward the Broad-tailed Hummingbird is frequently found in company with the rufous-backed species, for which it shows an especial animosity. Speaking of these two species, Mr. Henshaw says: “The beds of bright flowers about Willow Spring, in the White Mountains, Arizona, were alive with them in August, and as they moved swiftly to and fro, now surfeiting themselves on the sweets they here found so abundant, now fighting with each other for possession of some such tempting prize as a cluster of flowers, their rapid motions and the beauty of their colors intensified by the bright sunlight, conspired to an effect not soon to be forgotten.” A BIRD THAT HUNG HIMSELF. Near the gate of our garden stands a small apricot tree which is only about six feet in height. Last year a long twine string became entangled in this tree. One day when I went to the garden I noticed a blackbird hanging in this string, about two feet from the ground. On examination I found that the string was closely wrapped about his neck several times, and that he had been choked to death by it. He had evidently tried to secure the string for his nest, and probably had several times started to fly away with it, only to find that the other end of it was fast. There are usually high winds in Kansas during the Spring months, and these may have helped to entangle the unfortunate bird. It is certain that in some manner he had snared himself, and in attempting to fly had jerked the cord tight about his neck. There he hung, a martyr to his own energy and ambition; and somewhere his mate mourned for the partner who had gone from her never to return.