176 Bird -Lore 



quickly abandons his dream picture of the past for the astonishing reahties 

 of the present. 



Only an island could so actively play the part of preserver. No fence, 

 no trespass sign, no w^arden is so effective as several miles of deep water. 

 Of no less importance, in the present instance, is the possession and 

 occupation of this fair land by but one family, its descendents and depend- 

 ents, since Lion Gardiner purchased it from its red -skinned owners in 

 1637, for ''ten coats of trading cloath." Here, then, is the prime requisite 

 of isolation rendered potent and continuous by sympathetic guardianship. 



Seven miles from end to end, and, in the middle, one-third as broad, 

 Gardiner's Island contains a sufficient acreage to supply more than the 

 needs of its occupants, and large areas are still in a primitive condition. 

 We have, then, the advantages resulting from nature primeval as well as 

 those arising from man's cultivation. The first is represented in shell- 

 strewn beaches, grassy marshes mirrored with ponds and seamed with in- 

 flowing arms of the sea, broad, rolling plains, magnificent first-growth 

 woodland now high and dry, now watered by singing brooks, again low 

 and swampy with dense, luxuriant vegetation and green -coated pools. On 

 the other hand, man's presence is made manifest by abundant crops of 

 grains and fruits, of which the birds reap a by no means undeserved share. 



With these benefits conferred by man are none of the ills which almost 

 invariably follow him. There are no rats in this island Eden, and, more 

 astounding still, there are no cats, — the ogres of the bird-world. No less 

 remarkable, and, perhaps an accompaniment of insularity, is the absence of 

 foxes, minks, weasels, opossums, red -squirrels and chipmunks, all natural 

 enemies of birds, and when the Fish -hawks come in the spring all other 

 Hawks depart. In short, this island is an ideal resort for the fowl of land 

 and water, — a place of peace and plenty, — and only those factors which 

 impel migration among most of our birds, and consequent exposure to an 

 endless series of dangers, have prevented it from becoming a vast aviary. 



Fortunately removed from beaten paths of travel, one cannot buy an 

 'excursion ticket ' to this Island of the Birds, but, journeying part of the 

 way by train, must secure such conveyance as his alighting place aiifords, to 

 be driven thence over country roads and grassy lanes to a lookout point 

 where one's haven marks the horizon across the waters. Here, at the 

 'Fire Place,' as it is called locally and on the larger maps of Long 

 Island, one enlists the services of the presiding genius to build for him a fire 

 whose smoke shall give notice of a visitor to the island beyond — an office 

 performed by his great-grandfather before him, — and shortly a dense cloud 

 arises from a smudge of hay and seaweed and is blown landward by the 

 breezes from Montauk. In time comes the answering signal, a flash of 

 light from shining tin gleaming intermittently like the rays of an arc-light, 

 and shortly, through our glasses, we make out a boat crossing the bay. 



