Fish hawks, like other birds, are very fond of their little ones. A gentleman who had been traveling in the West told me this little story. He, with a party who were wandering over a wild part of the country, accidentally set fire to a bit of woods on the shore of Lake Superior. On one of the trees was a fish hawk's nest with young birds. As soon as the smoke began to spread, the old birds grew uneasy, and circled about their tree, going often to the nest. The men who had done the mischief, and who had then taken to their boat, were noting the spread of the fire. They watched the birds to see what they would do. When the fire at last reached their tree, the loving parents turned with one accord, plunged down into the nest, and all perished together. They could easily have saved themselves, but they could not desert their nestlings. FOOTNOTE: [28] See Appendix, 27. XXXV THE SCAVENGER FAMILY (_Cathartidæ_)[29] THIS is one of the most useful of bird families. But it is not very pleasant to meet, for the work it has to do makes it rather repulsive to us. The vultures are scavengers. They dispose of vast quantities of carrion and other offensive matter. In doing this they make it possible for people to live in places where they could not live without the service of these birds. The common vulture in the United States is the TURKEY VULTURE, or TURKEY BUZZARD. He is a large bird, with head and neck bare of feathers. In shape and size he is a good deal like a turkey. He is a familiar bird all over the country, except in New England and other northern parts, and is usually seen soaring about in the air, looking for food. Beautiful and graceful he looks away up against the sky. He sails around as if he weighed nothing, with wing feathers spread at the tip like fingers. But he is not so pretty when he comes to the ground, for he is very clumsy and awkward in getting about. The turkey buzzard nests almost anywhere; he is not at all particular--on the ground, in a hollow stump, or tree. The young are comfortably dressed in white down, but they are not pretty. They are as awkward as their parents, and have a way of hanging their heads as if they were ashamed of themselves. That is not the reason, however; their work is something we could not do without. It is because they are too weak to hold themselves up. I once saw a funny sight. A party of eighteen or twenty great buzzards had come to the ground to get their dinner. They were all very busily engaged just the other side of a fence, so that I could not see them at their feast. Suddenly a mockingbird that I was watching flew over and alighted on the fence. He stood there a minute, looking sharply down at them, and flirting his tail in a saucy way. All at once, to my great surprise, he gave a loud cry and flung himself down right among the great birds.