THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET 
I have paid them half a dozen visits, and every 
time have seen something new. 
I will describe a visit to them made this past 
season: It was the last day of May, a splendid 
morning, calm and bright. Two of us there were, 
and we had come two thousand miles to see the 
birds, making our headquarters in a small shack 
with a hunter who was to drive us to various inter- 
esting places. The islands were about eight miles 
from here, and at seven in the morning we started 
Outline a rather snevel: fashions) a pair of broncos 
hitched to a buckboard, upon which was loaded a 
substantial keel row-boat, in which we sat with our 
cameras and various equipments. ‘Thus we voyaged 
over the prairie in our boat that was propelled by 
horse-power. A pack of hunting-dogs followed us, 
and amused us by catching gophers and chasing 
jack-rabbits. In the latter case, the quest was never 
successful. Not even the greyhound seemed able 
tor catch, such a marvellous runner as ~ jack,’ sso 
long of limb and nimble. On these drives we now 
and then saw a badger by its hole, or a gaunt gray 
coyote, Or prairie wolf, loping over ‘the. prairie, 
stopping now and then to look back at us. 
So we drove along, exhilarated by the wild sce- 
nery of the prairie, and the crisp, stimulating air. 
Reaching the lake, we unloaded our boat on the 
beach, and, after tethering out the horses, pushed 
off, heading for one of the four low islands that 
lay sover.a mileyoutvinethe lakes ~:As at ibecame 
plainer to our vision, the first signs of bird -life 
were dots all over the rocks, that I knew to be 
mainly Ring-billed Gulls, and rows of black objects 
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