86 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



shutter, and it was all over. But I have a strong 

 suspicion that if the victim had seen a print of 

 the picture from that negative, she would have 

 felt that she had beaten the kodak man after 

 all. 



On the 29th of the month, the little duck was 

 rewarded for her long vigil, for on that day, ten 

 tiny, spoonbill peepers emerged from their 

 prisons. I was not there to see, but Andy hap- 

 pened to look into the nest, just when about 

 half of the brood had arrived, and he ran off for 

 the kodak and took a picture of the little family. 

 In a few hours they were all gone. A duck 

 always lays the full complement of eggs before 

 beginning to hatch them, and thus the peepers 

 all arrive and also leave the nest together — a 

 most necessary thing in their start along life's 

 rough pathway. And when the spoonbill mother 

 left the downy hollow for the last time, she did 

 not put the place in order as before, but left the 

 bedding pushed back and the empty half-shells 

 plain to view — a sort of triumphal souvenir for 

 her foes, to remind them that she had won. 



It was almost a year later that I had another 

 kodaking skirmish with a duck mother. One 

 day early in June, I noticed a heavy pall of 



