Vol ] f 1 ^ Xn ] Kennard, The Okaloacoochee Slough. 161 



On the morning of March 20 our long search for an occupied 

 Crane's nest was rewarded by finding one that contained two well 

 incubated eggs, in a slough away out in the prairie. The old bird, 

 which we jumped directly from her nest, near the middle of the 

 slough, flew off "hollering" and lit out on the prairie, from which 

 point of vantage she could watch the proceedings. The nest was a 

 huge affair about four feet by six in extent, and eight inches above 

 the level of the surrounding water, with a depression about two 

 inches deep, and was constructed principally of the dried stems of 

 what looked to me like the pickerel weed with which most of these 

 sloughs are filled. 



In the afternoon we broke camp and traveled northeast across 

 the prairie, around the cypress swamp, at the southerly end of 

 which we had been camping, to a place known as the Widow 

 McLean's Crossing, where a trail from Immokalee to the Semi- 

 nole reservation crosses the Okaloacoochee. 



Here in a sort of lade surrounded on three sides by a wonderful 

 cypress swamp, someone had years ago built a shack, long since in 

 ruins, planted a small grove of grapefruit, oranges and guavas, 

 and cultivated the ground about them. "Lightwood" for our 

 fires, and pasturage, were both in plenty; and we were out of reach 

 of the bothersome prairie winds. There was plenty of good water 

 that actually ran through the stream just back of camp; and, 

 wonder of wonders, a place where I could bathe. The air was 

 redolent with the odor of orange blossoms, the place fairly alive 

 with birds, a delightful change after our strenuous experience of the 

 last few weeks. 



Late in the afternoon, while putting our camp to rights, the air 

 was full of birds, thousands upon thousands of them flying over us, 

 south to the adjoining cypress swamp. "Flint Heads" (Wood 

 Ibis) in companies and the swift flying "Curlew" (White Ibis) in 

 battalions and regiments, Louisiana and Little Blue Herons by 

 the hundreds, with here and there a sprinkling of "Long Whites" 

 (Egret), all in one continuous stream. Right in the middle of it we 

 were startled by yells from Tom, and on rushing out into the open 

 to see what the matter was, espied two "Pink Curlew" (Roseate 

 Spoonbills) flying rapidly south with the other species. 



From all the signs we were led to believe that there must be a 



