48 BIEDS 



With each revolution, the * ' chug I chug I " of my gaso- 

 line engine brought to view above the treetops thousands 

 of heads on snake-like craning necks, unlike anything to 

 be seen elsewhere. As the boat drew up to the water's 

 edge and the anchor was thrown overboard the noise 

 produced by its accidentally striking the edge of the boat, 

 acted as a signal of universal alarm and thousands of 

 big birds took wing, screaming and flying in all direc- 

 tions. How they avoided collisions I do not understand. 

 The Cormorants and Anhingas darted hither and thither 

 on a horizontal plane, at lightning speed; the Pelicans, 

 with awkward beating of wings, flew in frantic con- 

 fusion, while many of the marvelous flyers, the Man-o- 

 war birds with their small bodies and eight feet of 

 wing-spread, ascended higher and higher in airplane-like 

 circles until almost lost to view. 



The ocean and gulf island rookeries are compara- 

 tively easy for the photographer, as there are no tall 

 trees to climb, or cypress swamps to splash through for 

 miles, before reaching them. All of the Everglade cy- 

 press swamp and ocean and gulf breeding grounds are 

 invariably located on islands, or their equivalent. The 

 birds have learned that they are safe there from the 

 invasion of skunks, wildcats and other bird-destroying 

 animals. That ever-present villain, the Fish Crow, I 

 found to be these birds' worst enemy. 



The activities and noises in a mixed rookery of 

 Water Turkeys, Little Blue Herons, Louisiana Herons, 

 with the Fish Crows flying overhead, may be compared 

 to those of a public market square, where the salesmen 

 are made up of many nationalities, all crying their wares 

 at the same time, each in his native tongue. Side by 

 side, the Turk, the Italian and the Greek, each patronized 

 by his kind, shows due consideration and a let-alone 

 policy to the stall adjoining. 



During the morning and evening feeding periods 

 great animated lines keep coming and going, as if from 

 a central telephone station, all with messages to craws' 

 capacity. No mother or father dares to return to the 

 hungTy young without bringing a ''full dinner pail." 

 (Fig. 7.) 



