68 WILD WINGS 



We now rowed round the island, south and east, keepingf 

 dose in. A few rods farther, and a lot of great black Florida 

 Cormorants began springing and fluttering from the low 

 mangroves, to fly out in bands over the lake and alight out 

 in the water. A little farther along, numbers of Little Blue 

 and Louisiana Herons began to start up, and then, with a 

 tremendous flapping, out past us would come an Anhinga, — 

 the curious "Snake-bird" or "Water Turkey" of the South, 

 — its slender, snake-like neck outstretched, and the long tail 

 spread out like a great fan. One of them, surprised by the 

 boat near its nest, appeared completely terrified, and fell to 

 the water, along which it went beating and fluttering past the 

 boat. This was on the east side of the island. On the north 

 side we began to start the ibises again, and soon completed 

 the circuit. 



Once more round, and I had a goodly number of hopeful 

 snap-shots to my credit. Then we landed on the northern side, 

 running the boat ujo into a sort of little bayou. Over us 

 arched the tangled branches of the mangroves, which grew 

 out into the water from the low, muddy shore. Every step 

 was attended with alarm and confusion. The trees, not over 

 about thirty feet high anywhere, were filled with nests in 

 almost every crotch. The owners scrambled away, squawk- 

 ing in their fright, — Louisiana Herons, White Ibises, and 

 Anhingas, at this point. Young herons seemed to be every- 

 where, pretty well grown, and were climbing and fluttering 

 from branch to branch. 



The first nest that I especially noticed, close to the boat, 

 and only ten feet above the water, held four young Anhingas, 

 perhaps half-grown, clad in suits of bul?-colored down, with 

 some dark feathers sprouting on the wings. It was a fine 

 subject for the camera, and I proceeded to climb a neighbor- 

 ing tree. As I did so, one of the youngsters dropped head- 



