An interesting little action of one of these birds was seen by a gentleman traveling in Florida last winter. Wishing to have one of the birds to add to a collection, he shot one (I'm sorry to say). The bird was not killed, but wounded so that he could not fly. As the man came near to pick it up, the poor fellow gave a cry of distress, and fluttered away on his broken wing with great difficulty. His call for help was heard. Another shrike at once flew down from a tree, and went to his aid. He flew close around him and under him, in some way holding him up as he was about to fall. He helped him so well that the two began to rise in the air, and before the eyes of the surprised hunter, at last got safely into the top of a tall tree, where he left them. If you ever happen to find a shrike nesting, I hope you will watch the birds for yourself, and see how they act, and not take the word of any one about them. Then you will really know them. The picture shows a shrike as I have often seen one, sitting on the top twig of the tree that holds his nest, watching to see that no harm comes to it. FOOTNOTE: [11] See Appendix, 10. XIII THE WAXWING FAMILY (_Ampelidæ_)[12] THE waxwings are a family of beautiful birds, with elegant pointed crests, and wonderfully silky plumage. Excepting one species they are in soft grayish or reddish brown colors, with yellow tips to their tails and black lines on the head that look like spectacles, and give them a wise appearance. Best known is the CEDAR WAXWING, or CEDAR-BIRD. He is a citizen at large, you may say, for he is known from sea to sea, and from Canada to Mexico. He nests all over the northern parts, and winters in the southern parts. This bird gets his name of cedar-bird from the fact that he is fond of cedar berries. He is often called cherry-bird also, because he likes cherries. His name waxwing comes from the little tips like red sealing-wax which are on some of his wing feathers. In Maine he is called the bonnet-bird because of his crest, and in some places he is called silk-tail from his silky plumage. You see he has plenty of names. Among the strange things about him is that he has almost no voice. The loudest sound he is known to make is a sort of whistle, so low it is like a whisper. The cedar-bird builds a very neat nest in a tree, and feeds his mate while she is sitting, as well as helps her feed the little folk. The young cedar-bird is a winsome youngster, gentle in his ways, and pretty in his soft gray suit and spotted breast. One day last summer, a man walking down a quiet road was surprised by a young bird alighting on his shoulder. He walked on home with it, and when he took it off found it was a baby cedar-bird. No doubt he had tried to fly too far and got tired. The family kept the bird a day or two, and then brought him to me. He was not afraid of anybody, and was perfectly happy so long as some one would keep him warm between two hands.