THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET 



times three, and in one case I found four. They 

 are very heavily marked and scrawled with black, 

 so much so as almost to hide the ground-color. 

 These little Terns are late in breeding. At this 

 time many of the eggs were quite fresh, and some 

 of the sets were incomplete, though there were 

 some young swimming about in the grass, after 

 the fashion of their family. 



They are bold and noisy little fellows, especially 

 when they consider that their rights are being tres- 

 passed upon. On one occasion, after photograph- 

 ing a nest with three incubated eggs, I noticed 

 some young in the water, and, climbing out of 

 the boat, waded after them. The water was just 

 up to the top of my boots, and I found that I 

 must hold these up to keep dry. Then the mother- 

 bird made at me with all her might. With angry 

 swoops she kept striking me most vicious blows 

 on the top of the head with her sharp little bill. 

 At first I laughed, but I had on only a very thin cap, 

 and having to hold up my boot-tops all the time, I 

 could not protect myself. Finally my head pained 

 me so that it was no laughing matter, and I actually 

 had to beat an inglorious retreat and climb into 

 the boat, a man worsted by a tiny little bird with 

 nothing but a bill for a weapon. For all that, I 

 could not be angry at the little mother, but ad- 

 mired her courage and strength. It made me 

 think what would be the result if all the birds in 

 that teeming slough should combine for a bold 

 attack on the visiting ornithologists. 



This little Black Tern is one of the most 

 typical birds of the Dakota prairies. Almost never 



