Louisiana Bird Refugees 13 



One little island, only a few acres in extent, named Battle- 

 dore, lies off the coast to the east of the Mississippi and al- 

 most in sight of Fort St. Philip. There the sea birds breed 

 yearly and thousands of these graceful feathered folk swarm 

 here and on neighboring islets. I visited this little place dur- 

 ing the first week of August, long after the real breeding sea- 

 son, and yet I found young g'ulls, terns and skimmers of all 

 ages, and even fresh eggs. It is a beautiful sight to see those 

 thousands of flashing wings, and even the shrill and monoto- 

 nous cries do not take away the eft'ect. The grey immature 

 gulls came out to meet us as the boat approached the island, 

 and escorted us back with many a swoop and circle, coming 

 in close to the boat to dip up a few scraps thrown out by the 

 cook, and then sailing away with scarcely a wing movement. 

 A few terns shrieked their defiance, and as we drew near the 

 shore, we could see the long lines of Black skimmers walking 

 gravely along the shell, and at our too near approach arose 

 as one, and, flying by us, wheeled about with military precision. 

 The skimmers are interesting birds. Their glossy black plum- 

 age, the grotescjue elongation of the lower mandible, with 

 their resultant mode of skimming the surface for food, and 

 their swift erratic flight, appealed to me more than did the 

 other species, and I enjoyed several hours trying to photo- 

 graph them. 



The skimmers lay three to five whitish eggs, blotched with 

 brownish, in a small depression in the shelly ground. Taken 

 in hand, the egg is conspicuous enough, but on the sand they 

 melt into the background, even as do the little grey young- 

 sters. They are queer fuzzy beasts, and when I came from 

 behind a clump of mangrove onto the shell where the skim- 

 mers were raised, they all took to their heels as fast as they 

 could. But even when fluttering as they were, they were 

 nearly invisible, and when too closely pressed, flattened out 

 and would allow themselves to be touched without budging. 

 But all the time I could see those dark brown eyes watching 

 me, just as a cottontail crouching in the long grass will do. 

 And to photograph a nest of these fellows takes more pa- 

 tience than I have. I wouM get a nestful nicely posed, and 



