That's awesome, Vulcan! It reminds me of an experience I had many years ago as a kid in the Philippines. They are similar in some ways.
My family lived on a military base. A friend and I loved to play around some empty housing units on a street adjacent close to his house. We were running around one empty house when we disturbed a bird that was inside of a large bush on the corner closest to the front porch. It streaked out of the bush like a bolt of lighting, startling both of us. Curious, I decided to look inside of the bush. To my surprise, I found a nest there...and inside were two peeping chicks.
I was somewhat of a junior naturalist and so I was careful not to touch the nest, let alone the chicks. My friend and I both left the house and decided to steer clear of that bush so things could return to normal for them.
I kept an eye on the bush from a distance, checking on it later that day, and the next day after coming home from school. I was dismayed because I suspected that we had frightened the adult bird into abandoning the nest. This seemed to be the case when I passed by before sunset that day to check on them, and found no adult either sitting in, nor around, the nest. I felt horrible and responsible. These chicks were going to die because I had been running around like an ape and chased their mother away. :(
Because I felt responsible, I decided I would do what I can to help these chicks survive. Having learned that most birds were insectivorous, it made sense to me that their parents would feed them using such a food source. I wouldn't be able to feed them like their parents would...this was a problem. I looked around the general vicinity of the abandoned house, and noticed that the most common insect seemed to be a variety of small, black beetle. They seemed to be everywhere...and as such, I imagined that they would be the choice of the parents due to their availability. I picked up a few of the beetles, removed all of the hard, chitinous parts (such as the legs, wing covers, head and thorax), crushed them up into a paste, and brought them to the chicks in the nest.
The little things were peeping furiously, their mouths open and facing upwards. It was a simple matter to drop the crushed insects into their mouths. I did this a few times, until they seemed to stop peeping. I told myself I would return the next morning as early as I could manage. When I returned the next day, I heard them peeping in the bush. I went about the task of collecting a number of the black beetles, and once again, rendered them into a state that seemed to be as close to what their parents would do. It was a bit gruesome, but the survival of the chicks depended on it.
I kept doing this, day after day. I lost track of time - I'm not sure how long it took. It wasn't terribly long, I think. Along the way, though, one of the chicks died. :( I noticed that it seemed sluggish compared to its nest mate the day before. I removed its little body from the nest and buried it in the ground near the bush. At this point, the little things were growing feathers, looking less like helpless little chicks and more like awkward versions of their adult selves. I was able to tell that these were sparrows, the most common bird found around the housing areas.
I kept feeding the survivor. Before I knew it, it was a cute ball of feathers. It looked very close to what an adult looked like. At this point, I began thinking: how the heck am I going to teach this little thing how to fly, since I can't do it myself? I stuck my index finger out in the nest next to the fledgling...and to my surprise, it hopped up on it.
I walked out into the yard with this little fellow on my finger. I lowered my hand down close to the ground, and tossed him into the air. He fluttered his little wings and landed in a heap in the grass. He hopped right back on my finger when I offered it to him. I did this quite a few more times, then put him back in the nest. I fed him before I left. It was a weekend, so I was able to spend more time with him the next day.
The next day, this little fellow seemed to be getting the hang of it. He started to glide while fluttering his wings. Eventually I started tossing him into the air without lowering my hand close to ground. He sailed across the yard! He was getting good at it.
I picked him back up, and he seemed to regard me quizzically. I remember this moment, because it was then that I tossed him into the air, and he flew up to the rooftop of the empty house. He sat there for a while, watching me. Then to my amazement, he flew away. I couldn't believe it! :)
I sometimes wonder, now, if I dreamed the entire thing...it was all so surreal. Those little birds were so very, very lucky that a predator didn't get to them. They were also fortunate that it was the dry season, and the Philippine weather in that region of Luzon was conspiring in their favor: it was typically a balmy 80 - 90 degrees F every day, not going lower than 78 degrees F at night. That closely simulated the warmth and protection they would have from an adult insulating them in the nest.
I walked away from this thinking that all of my actions have consequences. I'm just so thankful I was able to save at least one of them.