10 Kennard, On the Trail of the Ivory-bill. [jan. 



east of the grove, and a few notes at a time for the next thirty 

 minutes. He did not get sight of the bird, and from then until the 

 morning of March 1st, neither of us saw or heard her again. The 

 male, if there was one, was never seen, though they should have 

 been breeding at this time. We waded through miles of swamp, 

 crawled through miles of jungle, dodging snakes, and devoured by 

 red bugs, our necks stiff from searching the tree tops for possible 

 nests. Pileateds were in abundance, and we found several of their 

 nests, but no Ivory-bills. 



The grove itself and its immediate surroundings, were fairly alive 

 with bird life; Mockingbirds, Redbirds, Catbirds, Florida Yellow- 

 throats, Great Crested Flycatchers, and noisiest of them all some 

 Vireos, none of which I collected, but which I suppose were the 

 Key West Vireos. Turkey Buzzards were always soaring some- 

 where overhead. Florida Red-shouldered Hawks were forever 

 screaming, and even in broad daylight, the hooting of Florida 

 Barred Owls could often be heard. Occasionally a beautiful Swal- 

 low-tailed Kite could be seen overhead in swift and graceful flight; 

 and that most characteristic of Florida woodpeckers, the Red-bel- 

 lied, was always somewhere in hearing. Florida Grackles were 

 wading about the mud in the swamp between the hammock and 

 bungalow, and the croak of White Ibis could be heard deeper in the 

 swamp. Brown-headed Nuthatches and chickadees were in the pine 

 woods about the bungalow, while Tufted Titmice could often be heard 

 in a willow thicket down by the edge of the swamp, and there were 

 colonies of Boat-tailed Grackles in some of the many sloughs. 



On February 23 we saw our first Robins, a whole flock of them; 

 and I shot a male Red-headed Woodpecker, which seems to be 

 a rather uncommon bird in this vicinity. Of quail there were 

 many bunches. 



On the morning of March 1, after we had become thoroughly 

 disgusted and the sick ox seemed well enough to be led, we broke 

 camp for a pine island five or six miles further south. Just before 

 leaving Tom and I went over to the grove for a last look for the 

 Ivory-bill and incidentally for a few grapefruit. We were picking 

 the fruit, and had our bag almost full when we heard several very . 

 loud woodpecker calls, closely resembling the "pump handle" 

 note of the Flicker in the breeding season, and that lone widow 



