134 



ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 



HOW THE PICTURES WERE TAKEN. 



THE HOME OF THE BROWN PELICAN. 



By C. WILLIAM BEEBE. 



CURATOR OF BIRDS. 

 Illustrations from photographs hv author. 



C "URATES of brown pelicans liaxf arrived at 

 > the Zoological Park year alter year, until 

 a good-sized flock of these birds, old and 

 young, now sail about the flying cage or swim 

 on the pools. 



Their scientific name is Pelicanus fusciis, so 

 at least one bird enjoys the same appellation, 

 whether discussed by layman or man of science. 

 From his appearance in general, it would be a 

 difficult matter to say where a pelican belonged 

 in the great class of birds, but his four toes, all 

 pointing forward and joined together with a 

 single web, is his family distinction, and shows 

 his kinship with tropic-bird and cormorant, 

 snake-bird and gannet. 



But these facts we can discover in any mus- 

 eum, and although we can learn much about 

 liim bv watching his C(mtented lite in our big 

 Zoological Park, it is his wild home life witli 

 which we are now concerned. 



On the twenty-fifth of February of the present 

 year we started from Oak Lodge, on the east 

 coast of Florida, for a ten-mile sail down the 

 Indian River to Pelican Island. The sun is 

 warm and though we drift but slowly with the 

 light breeze, we find every moment full of in- 

 terest. From the mangrove shadows near shore, 

 great blue, little blue and Louisiana herons rise 



continually, the former silent, the two latter 

 with complaining cries. A daintv Louisiana 

 heron, "the lady of the waters," is a charming 

 sight when in full flight, so full of grace is every 

 motion. 



Tlie screams of ospreys sound oxerheail, while 

 from the palmettos come the x\\ q! q! of car- 

 dinals and the beautiful strain of yellow-thmated 

 warblers. High over all, the black vultures 

 poise motionless or swing round in great circles. 

 And when the breeze freshens and brings the 

 sweet scent of orange blossoms from the groves 

 of Micco, we feel that Nature has left nothing 

 lacking — sound, sight, odor — all the senses are 

 gratified. 



Not only the land and air, but the water 

 around us seems full of life. Hundreds of mul- 

 let leap far out of the water, flash like silver for 

 a moment and then drop back with a splash. 

 Sea-trout also jump into the air, but their clean- 

 cut dive leaves no bubbles, makes no splash. 

 Needlefish glide from our path like ghostly 

 shadows, and whenever any unusual commotion 

 occurs we strain our eyes eagerly, hoping by 

 good fortune to catch a glimpse of a manatee. 



Perhaps the most remarkable sights on the 

 way to Pelican Island are the flocks of wild 

 ducks. Now and then our sail-boat approaches 



