AMONG THE WATER FOWL 



inserted on the end. And how ridiculously those 

 seeming eggs lying on the ground would suddenly 

 arise and scurry off at such a rate that one had to 

 be spry to catch them! The colors blend perfectly 

 with their usual surroundings on a pebbly shore, and 

 this is the protection that the plan of Nature affords 

 to all young birds of this class. Long before they 

 become white, they can care for themselves. 



A great many of the young Gulls had taken to 

 wing, and large numbers of both dark, spotted young 

 and snowy-plumaged parents everywhere we went 

 were hovering overhead, often not more than fifty 

 feet above us. Nor were they silent observers of 

 our intrusion, for of all the noisy places on earth 

 I do not know of anything that can equal a Gull- 

 colony. Each bird seems to consider it a matter 

 of Gull-morality to scream at regular intervals of 

 not more than two seconds. When several hun- 

 dreds, or thousands, are thus engaged, it would be 

 deaf ears indeed that were not almost overpowered 

 with the volume of sound. 



The first Herring Gull colony that I ever saw 

 was on Great Duck Island, Maine. In a dense 

 fog we beat to it from Mount Desert, and went 

 ashore in the tender. The Gulls bred mostly on 

 the ground here, but some had taken to the trees. 

 This was early July, and the nests, probably having 

 been robbed, still had eggs. 



For years I have loved to visit a fine colony of 

 the Herring Gull on "No Man's Land," a lonely 

 island far off the shores of Maine. Though the 

 name truly represents its wildness, it is not accu- 

 rate at the present time, for the island is under 



