98 WILD WINGS 



make an exposure. Probably the noisy Sooties have already 

 deafened them, for they do not seem to hear. Changing 

 plates, I again advance. When I am almost at the wharf, 

 they start to fly, and just as part of them have launched out, 

 I snap once more, and get an interesting picture as it turns 

 out. This can be done again and again. 



From here it is but a few steps to the main resort of the 

 breeding Noddies. Most of their nests are upon the bushes 

 just above the beach, or on bunches of cactus. Some of them 

 fly as we approach, but soon settle down again. Their quiet- 

 ness is in strange contrast with the conduct and disposition 

 of the Sooties. In photography, now, we may do practically 

 anything we wish. Here is a nest where the male stands 

 beside his mate as she broods. Possibly he may fly up, as we 

 focus about a yard away ; but ere we are ready, he will be 

 back, and the picture of the pretty pair is easily secured. 

 Meanwhile, as we work, our coat brushes against another 

 nest, with a sitting hen Noddy upon it. She does not fly, but 

 bristles out her feathers, croaking her feeble remonstrance. 

 I stroke her on the back, and as soon as she feels the touch, 

 she is gone. But when the egg is nearly hatched, we could 

 lift her off, and, replacing her, she would continue brooding 

 without alarm, I am told, so overpowering is Noddy's mater- 

 nal passion. From this trait the great naturalist, Linnaeus, 

 who named the species, called the Noddy Anous stolidus. 

 Stupid fool, it means ; but I resent having any such scur- 

 rilous epithet applied to my pet. Will not the authorities 

 kindly change the name ? 



So we might go on, as long as we wish, photographing 

 Noddies on the egg, beside the egg, tail cocked prettily 

 aloft, mates caressing, looking down or up, the croaking, 

 scolding posture, when Noddy strikes the attitude of the caw- 

 ing crow (pretty little sea-crow), beside many other poses. 



