I was afraid of the birds, they looked so unspeakably savage and
formidable whenever I went near them. But my desire to get the eggs
was over-mastering, and when it was spring and I had reason to think
that eggs were being laid, I went oftener than ever to watch and wait
for an opportunity. And one evening just after sunset I could not see
the birds anywhere about and thought my chance had now come. I managed
to swarm up the smooth trunk to the branches, and then with wildly
beating heart began the task of trying to get through the close
branches and to work my way over the huge rim of the nest. Just then I
heard the harsh grating cry of the bird, and peering through the
leaves in the direction it came from I caught sight of the two birds
flying furiously towards me, screaming again as they came nearer. Then
terror seized me, and down I went through the branches, and catching
hold of the lowest one managed to swing myself clear and dropped to
the ground. It was a good long drop, but I fell on a soft turf, and
springing to my feet fled to the shelter of the orchard and then on
towards the house, without ever looking back to see if they were
following.

That was my only attempt to raid the nest, and from that time the
birds continued in peaceful possession of it, until it came into some
person's mind that this huge nest was detrimental to the tree, and was
the cause of its producing so little fruit compared with any other
tree, and the nest was accordingly pulled down, and the birds forsook
the place.

In the description in a former chapter of our old peach trees in their
blossoming time I mentioned the paroquets which occasionally visited
us but had their breeding-place some distance away. This bird was one
of the two common parrots of the district, the other larger species