AMONG THE WATER FOWL 



running the tender up on a shelf of rock when 

 the wave serves, all the thousand and more great 

 Gulls hover screaming, or gather in groups on the 

 dark trees, making a wonderful picture. Up above 

 the rocks there is an area of pasture where graze 

 a flock of sheep, which have been ferried over 

 here for the season to live and multiply, if they 

 can. Some fail, as their dead bodies show, and the 

 Ravens have plenty of wool with which to line 

 their nests. All over the pasture, in all sorts of 

 places, are the nests of the Gulls, deeply hollowed 

 beds of seaweed, some quite slight, others substan- 

 tial. Now we come upon one under a low spruce 



bush, then be- 

 side a rock, or 

 boldly out in the 

 open. Then we 

 extend our ram- 

 ble into the 

 sprue e-woods, 

 and here they 

 are just the same, 

 all about on the 

 ground among 

 the trees. But, strangely enough, on this island I 

 have never yet found a nest on a tree, though I 

 know that the birds have been considerably dis- 

 turbed by the fishermen. Most of the nests, un- 

 less marauders have been there, contain three eggs; 

 often there are but two, and now and then four. 

 They vary so greatly in ground-color and markings 

 that it is fascinating to go all over the island and 

 look at every nest that we can find. I recall one 



138 



"ARE THE NESTS OF THE GULLS." NEST OF HER- 

 RING GULL, MAINE. BY A. C. BENT 



