

L.i;4.. . 



Photos by Howard H. Cleaves 



sci;nE of the osprey kxpeiriment 



Umbrella blind on shore and Leland Wincapaw, the author's companion, re-anchoring the 

 decoy after it had been dragged ashore by the hawk 



much in the open, and who ought, there- 

 fore, to be familiar with birds ; but 

 whether he was keen on their protection 

 or not, who could tell? 



I approached him, however; told him 

 of the nest and pointed it out to him. 

 He had never seen anything like it and 

 was much impressed. Would he cultivate 

 around it ? Indeed, yes ; in fact, the whole 

 row of potatoes where the nest was lo- 

 cated should not be touched till the young 

 plovers were safely gone ; and, to make 

 certain that the site could be easily told, 

 a couple of large stones were placed a 

 few feet at either side of the nest. 



It was delightftil to discover this spirit 

 hidden away beneath the bronzed ex- 

 terior of the old gardener. He talked of 

 the birds of his native lakes in Switzer- 

 land and remarked how the killdeers re- 

 minded him of a bird he had seen at 

 home. And each year since our first 

 meeting the gardener has greeted me 

 warmly and told ine how long the "ring- 

 lets" had been back, for the killdeers have 

 come each spring to the big gardens and 

 reared their four young under the pro- 



tecting care of the little tanned man and 

 his helpers. 



SHOOTING WITH THE) I,ENS 



One of the great beauties of bird study 

 and photography is that the subjects are 

 without limit. Should one exhaust the 

 possibilities near home (which is well 

 nigh impossible) or desire to expand his 

 circle of feathered acquaintances, there 

 are always awaiting him the wonderful 

 colonies both inland and on the coast. 

 Or if one is not set on having the spec- 

 tacular, he may go to the north woods, 

 where the brilliant and shy warblers and 

 other birds of passage make their homes. 



But at some time, be it soon or late, 

 one is almost dead certain to come under 

 the spell of the sea-bird. There is some- 

 thing overpowering and enthralling about 

 standing beneath screaming, gyrating 

 myriads of sea-swallows and watching 

 them settle on their nests as lightly as 

 giant snowflakes. And then there are the 

 gulls, petrels, guillemots, puffins, etc., of 

 the islands along the north Atlantic coast, 

 while on the sun - baked dunes and 



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