46 VOYAGES OF A NATURALIST 



mobbed by the old birds, which tried to divert our 

 attention from the eggs and young. They were not 

 aggressive in any way, but fluttered within a few 

 inches of our faces, uttering all the while a soft 

 croak. On several occasions they settled on our 

 hats, so fearless were they, or was it in ignorance 

 of the nature of man ? 



I stopped opposite a fallen tree, on which a pair 

 were nesting, for the purpose of photographing 

 them and their nest. The birds sat quite still 

 while I put up my half-plate tripod camera, 

 and were not at all alarmed at the flapping 

 focussing cloth. All seemed easy, but before I 

 could expose a plate I was surrounded by a flutter- 

 ing, croaking swarm of birds, and I had to keep 

 driving them off as they hovered in front of my 

 camera. 



The number of these birds on South Trinidad 

 is incalculable. The entire plumage is of an ivory 

 whiteness, and they flash in the sunlight like 

 flakes of snow. From the sea-shore to the extreme 

 summit of the island they were sitting in swarms 

 on every rock and dead tree, while the air seemed 

 full of them. After leaving Trinidad, too, while 

 steaming southward, we passed flock after flock. 



The eggs are most handsome. About the size 

 of a bantam's, and large for the bird, they are 

 heavily blotched and streaked with yellowish olive- 

 brown on a somewhat lighter ground colour. 



We found young birds of all ages. They are 



