88 WILD WINGS 



great decrease from the numbers that were once here. These 

 two species alone breed on the island. Its only other fre- 

 quenters are about two dozen great Man-o'-War Birds, which 

 loaf about, sunning themselves, upon a certain tract of 

 bushes, the wharf, or the beacon, when they are not floating 

 serenely in the air or pursuing and robbing the terns as they 

 come in with the food secured in their trips out to sea each 

 morning and afternoon. 



Though the climate is warm throughout the year, it is not 

 before early May that the feathered hosts arrive from the 

 south at this sandy rendezvous. In the van come the Nod- 

 dies, only a few at first, but the rest within a few days. A 

 week later the Sooty Terns pour in, and it is said that within 

 a week of their arrival both kinds begin to lay. At the time 

 of our coming, nearly all the birds had eggs and were devot- 

 ing themselves to their family cares. 



To reach the buildings from the little landing-pier, we had 

 to pass through a tract of bushes, and here it was that I saw 

 the first nests of the Noddies. Upon the tops or in the forks 

 of the bushes each pair had built a rather rude, yet fairly 

 substantial platform of sticks, only slightly hollowed, and 

 upon each sat a dark gray bird. There was something about 

 the graceful little creatures that instantly took me by storm, 

 a case of love at first sight. The Noddy is wonderfully like 

 a dove, in size, in form, in the softness of its plumage, the 

 expression in its large, dark eyes, and its gentle, confid- 

 ing ways. There is no wild affright and fluttering as the 

 stranger approaches. Just a shadow of natural modesty is 

 evident, but the birds sit quietly, hoping and trusting, and do 

 not fly until the intruder is almost within arms' reach. Then 

 they flit easily away, waiting upon a neighboring bush until 

 the interloper has withdrawn, when they return directly to 

 their charges. 



