54 On the trail of vanishing birds 



well as white-fronted geese and Canada geese. I had now re- 

 plenished my baited areas, and thirty-five sandhills settled on the 

 com in front of my blind nearest camp. 



On the twenty-sixth more whoopers came in, a pair at the head 

 of Mustang Slough and three more in the marsh south of camp. 

 How glad we were to see them! There were now a dozen species 

 of migrant ducks and geese on the refuge, including the first snow 

 geese. We also estimated close to 5,000 coots, most of them on 

 Mustang Lake and the adjacent Redfish Slough. 



By November 1 the whooping-crane population had reached 

 fourteen birds, but none of them was accompanied by new young- 

 of-the-year. On the same date the wind came roaring out of the 

 north with a velocity of 35 miles per hour, and more than that 

 during gusts. The next day the first family group arrived, a pair 

 with one brown-plumaged youngster, first seen on the east side of 

 Mustang Lake. The little fellow must have been close to four 

 months old, according to my calculations. His head and neck were 

 a deep rusty brown and the paler brown or buff of his body plum- 

 age was much splotched with areas of white, chiefly on the wing 

 coverts. We watched the family resting and feeding in the wet 

 puddles near the lake, and they seemed very quiet and obviously 

 tired out after their long and dangerous journey of 2,500 miles 

 from the Northern breeding grounds. As we watched, there was a 

 great flight of monarch butterflies coming in and stopping along 

 the shore, covering every weed and bush with a fluttering blanket 

 of orange and black. 



The days that followed were filled with the excitement of the 

 new arrivals. It turned out to be one of the best seasons in years, 

 and a total of six young-of-the-year were finally counted. In all, the 

 Texas population reached thirty-one whooping cranes. At first 

 our bait was a grand success, the whoopers going after it with a 

 vengeance and having a wonderful time chasing off the flocks of 

 smaller sandhills and geese that also found the corn enticing. 

 Later on, however, most of the whoopers walked disdainfully 

 through generous supplies of corn to seek their natural food in 

 the muddy bottoms of the ponds. By great luck, a splendid family 

 group, those occupying the outstanding territory at Middle Pond, 



