68 
WILD WINGS 
We now rowed round the island, south and east, keeping 
close 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 up 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 bufl-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- 
