128 WILD WINGS 



long grass. A few days later I returned to show the nest to 

 a friend. As we stood by it, I caught sight of a gleam of 

 white, and there was a nest with eleven eggs of the Marsh 

 Hen, skilfully concealed under the canopied grass. I had 

 placed my tripod directly over it, and then gone away with- 

 out detecting its presence. 



Stepping back from this nest a few feet, I suddenly flushed 

 the mother bird, which I had almost trodden upon. So con- 

 fident are they in their protective coloration and surround- 

 ings that they are almost fearless of dull-eyed man. The day 

 before this I had waded out in a marsh at high tide to a little 

 hummock and, standing upon it, clapped my hands to start 

 up a Willet which had alighted out beyond. Upon this up 

 jumped a Marsh Hen almost from between my legs. It, too, 

 had taken refuge from the tide and did not intend to yield its 

 ground for any ordinary alarm. Sometimes I saw them, when 

 suddenly flushed, fly straight out into the bay and alight upon 

 the water, where they would swim like ducks. 



Despite all accounts, I did not find the Laughing Gulls' 

 nesting-grounds till I extended my wanderings to the vicinity 

 of Cobb's Island. Meanwhile I had found and photographed 

 a rookery of Great Blue Herons on the mainland. As we 

 approached a little marsh island in our sail-boat, bands of 

 hovering, cackling gulls gave assurance of certain success. 

 The very first thing one of the men saw, on jumping from the 

 boat, was a Marsh Hen's nest with eight eggs. The over- 

 arching of the grass revealed it. Very close by was another 

 with eight eggs, and still another with eleven. It was now 

 July 2, and these were second layings, for the Marsh Hens 

 here begin their family cares in April or early May. Then we 

 discovered, here and there on the marsh, the nests of the 

 Laughing Gulls, hollows in piles of drift-weed, in each of 

 which were three drab-colored mottled eggs. 



