ORNITHOLOGY 



119 



and peaceful seclusion of Dona Bay. 



Far up in the eastern arm of this bay 

 are the few scattered houses and orange 

 groves of the little town of \'enice. 

 Aside from the enjoyment of life, the 

 raising of citrus fruits here seems to 

 be the principal occupation of the in- 

 habitants, — exceot for the intrusion of 

 the turpentine camps, whose exhaustive 

 work is causing the beautiful and char- 

 acteristic groves of longleaf pine to fast 

 disappear. 



Here, in a grove of scattered pines 

 near the shore, within sight of some of 

 the houses on the outskirts of the vil- 

 lage, and but a few rods from the sandy 

 road which winds through the scrub 

 palmettos, my companion and I saw our 

 first nest of the bald eagle. It was a 

 huge mass of sticks, wdiich the top of 

 the stout pine in which it was placed 

 seemed hardly able to support, and its 

 height commanded a good view of the 

 surrounding territory. 



We had been observing this magnifi- 

 cent bird for the past month, on our 

 cruise down the east coast and through 

 The Everglades, — admiring his impos- 

 ing attitude as he sat perched on the 

 tallest cypress of an inaccessible swamp, 

 sometimes for more than an hour ; mark- 

 ing his rapid flight in pursuit of the os- 

 prey, to rob him of his quarry, or watch- 

 ing his dignified movements on an oc- 

 casional fishing trip of his own, along 

 the mangrove keys, — and it was thus 

 with a keen delight that we at last be- 

 held the nest of "The Bird of Our Coun- 

 try." 



It was on the evening of the seventh 

 of January, 1914, while Old Boreas still 

 held New England in a savage grip of 

 intense cold, that we entered Casey's 

 Pass and anchored our launch on the 

 placid waters of Dona Bay. The sun 

 was just setting over the gulf, rimming 

 the horizon with an indescribable color- 

 ing of crimson and gold, and the fring- 

 ing palm trees along the shores leaned 

 far out over the water, as if to admire 

 their beauty reflected in perfect image 

 below. A delicious odor was in the air, 

 for it was spring along the hummocks 

 and bayous of tropical Florida. The 

 buds were swelling and bursting on the 

 live-oaks ; flowers were in bloom, and 

 the birds were doing their best to instill 

 into us some of their exuberant joy. 

 Bluebirds called softly; meadowlarks 

 whistled, and Florida wrens warbled 



THE P\LMETTO BLIND. CONCEALING THE 

 CAMERA AND PHOTOGRAPHER. 



their ventriloquial notes, and as these 

 died away the purer strains of a hermit 

 thrush came floating across the_ water, 

 bidding us a sweet "good-night." 



A\^e"had planned to spend but one 

 night here, but on learning from a friend 

 whom we visited that evening of another 

 eagles" nest in the vicinity, we decided 

 to stop over in -hope of securing some 

 photographs of the home life of these 

 birds. Before breakfast on the follow- 

 ing morning our good friends were 

 alongside in their canoe, and we made 

 our plans for a visit to the eagles' eyrie. 

 The first nest appeared not to be oc- 

 cupied, though we learned it had been 

 used for several years past — usually in 

 the month of February. It was about 

 sixtv feet up in the tallest pine in the 

 grove, and we estimated it to be over 

 six feet in depth and three or four feet 

 in diameter. It was apparently com- 

 posed entirely of sticks, although we 

 made no attempt to ascend the tree, as it 

 was seemingly impossible to climb up 

 over the bulkv mass. 



