452 Howell, Birds of Cobb's Island, Va. [qS 



up and down in great fury at not being able to reach their tormen- 

 tors. In one nest of crepitans containing eggs of the rightful owner 

 there were two eggs of the Laughing Gull, but these had been 

 pushed to one side. These birds' nests were very easy to find on 

 account of the tall marsh grass being bent over them toward the 

 center, dome-fashion. 



I took an umbrella blind with me in order to facilitate my 

 photographing, and also to study the nesting birds at close range. 

 It is no light work to start out for a walk of six miles through the 

 soft sand laden down with a heavy camera, several dozen plates, 

 large umbrella tent and other paraphernalia, not forgetting the 

 water bottle, when the thermometer is registering one hundred 

 and two. However, this was refreshing compared to the dreadful 

 heat which I experienced with the sun pouring down upon my 

 blind after I had crawled into it and closed every cranny except 

 two small holes. Complete quiet had settled down among the 

 birds in less than an hour. 



Mr. Chapman was the first to disprove the popular falacy that 

 the Skimmers incubated only during the night and in cloudy 

 weather, and I also observed that they incubate throughout the 

 brightest days, although they are very restless, remaining on the 

 nest for but a few minutes at a time. One would alight on the 

 sand, waddle up to the nest and after inspecting its contents, settle 

 down upon the eggs. Then almost invariably she would cock her 

 eye at the sun, and finding that orb fully up to her expectations, 

 she would give over her thoughts to serious business for a while. 

 This species is to me at least, one of the most interesting of the 

 sea birds. They have a certain ease of flight that is not surpassed 

 even by the Terns, and to see one quartering the little tide creeks 

 at dusk is enough to stir the interest of the most blase ornithologist. 

 They often fly in straggling flocks of about a dozen individuals, 

 and when passing, strongly remind one of a pack of hounds on the 

 trail, as Mr. Chapman so aptly puts it, for their cry is an almost 

 exact counterpart of the yelp of a hound. 



In the middle of the day when one decides to feed, he often 

 chooses a place where a wave has broken and is receding down 

 the beach. Then he flies along where the water is about two inches 

 deep, skimming with his lower mandible beneath the surface. At 



