AMONG THE WATER-FOWL 



Before leaving, I found it easy to photograph 

 these areas of nests from the boat by snap-shots, but a 

 very different matter to have any of the Grebes in the 

 pictures, as they were quite shy of the boat. Finding 

 that they would not come jiear enough for a snap- 

 shot, I stood up an old tripod, with a focus cloth 

 over the top, in the grass a little back from the 

 "east side," leaving it for the birds to become 

 accustomed to the sight. Next day, the wind was 

 raging, and my companions did not think I could 

 carry out my plan of getting out there alone in the 

 boat to spend the day by the colony. After a long, 

 desperate effort I managed to reach it. The birds 

 were mostly on their nests, ignoring the tripod. 



The pathway to success now seemed easy ; but 

 thorny did it prove. Moving the tripod a little 

 nearer to the nests, I adjusted the camera, attached 

 the spool of thread, and allowed the boat to drift off 

 to leeward, paying out the line. So busy was I that 

 I had not noticed a gathering squall, that just at this 

 untimely juncture struck down with furious blast. 

 The shutter was sprung, and I had to lose the end 

 of the thread, not being able to check the progress or 

 the boat in time. As it was, the camera was nearly 

 pulled or blown over into the water. Nothing but 

 the fact that I had spliced poles to the legs of the 

 tripod and driven them firmly into the mud pre- 

 vented what would have been to me out there in the 

 wilderness an irreparable disaster. Then ensued a 

 mighty struggle to get back to the camera to pro- 

 tect it from the rain. It was almost impossible for 

 one person alone to push that clumsy boat through 

 the tangle of grass and slime against the wind, but I 



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