42 THE HOME-LIFE OF 
later when I began to make preparations for a flashlight 
photograph. When I emerged from under the tree in 
order to set up my tripods, she sprang into the air with loud 
cries and made off. The work of adjusting my camera 
and flashlight apparatus, with their various threads, etc., 
in the gathering gloom, proved to be a lengthy operation, 
and all was not in readiness till 8.45. As official sundown 
occurred at 7.30, it was already dark, although a hazy moon 
enabled me to see slightly. While I was working, the female 
Osprey flew over about every twenty minutes and whistled ; 
and shortly after I had finished and retired, she flew over 
again, but did not alight. At 9.15 she returned and settled 
directly on the nest. I waited, but as there was no sign of 
the male, I set off the flash at 10 o’clock. The Osprey uttered 
a faint outcry, but did not even take wing. She complained 
more loudly as I moved about, covering up my camera, etc., 
and could evidently see me fairly plainly in the dark. 
I then rolled up in my umbrella blind and made myself 
comfortable for the night. All was quiet till 11.25, when I 
heard a slight commotion and a low greeting, and looked 
up to find that the male had alighted on his original perch. 
At first, I could plainly see his head silhouetted against 
the sky, but within a quarter of an hour it was apparently 
tucked “under his wing.” In the impressive stillness 
of the night, I lay there beside my sleeping birds, myself, 
as it were, a part of wild Nature for the time being. 
At 3.5 the first cock crew ; and it was not many minutes 
before sundry squawks and quacks announced the awakening 
of the entire barn-yard company. At 3.35 I saw the male 
Osprey stretch his great wings, in the same sleepy fashion 
as any creature stretches himself on waking of a morning. 
Then I could discern him bending forward and moving on 
his perch. I attempted to raise my glasses to my eyes, but, 
dark though it was, he evidently saw me and flew. 
Brief extracts from my notes will serve to record 
some of the many succeeding incidents of the dawn and 
the day, which space precludes reciting in full detail ;— 
