General Notes 413 



but two weeks old, establishing beyond all doubt that they were 

 bred in the Louisiana marshes. 



The conservation agent on Marsh Island also discovered the 

 Long-billed curlew (Numenius americanus) breeding on the marsh- 

 land of the preserve under his patrol. During the visit of former 

 President Theodore Roosevelt to the bird reservation along the 

 Louisiana coast east of the Mississippi river during the early part 

 of June, nests and eggs of the Man-o'-war bird {Fregata aquila) 

 were found, thereby settling the question whether this bird is a 

 Louisiana breeder or not. 



NESTING OF A CHIMNEY SWIFT IN A HOLLOW TREE. 



Several years ago, in company with an ornithological friend, 

 Walter Bennett, I made a canoe trip through the big woods that 

 cover the northern portion of Minnesota. At Walker, a lumber 

 town on Leech Lake, we purchased a birch bark canoe of the Ojib- 

 way Indians and plunged into the wijd, traversing a tangle of lakes 

 and streams and swamps filled with interesting wild life, especially 

 birds. Among our varied experiences, one of the most interesting 

 was the discovery, of a pair of tree-nesting chimney swifts. Of 

 course, as is well known, this was the universal custom of these 

 birds before the advent of the white man with his convenient chim- 

 neys. Like some other birds, the chimney swift has taken to mod- 

 ern improvements. 



Far in the heart of the wilderness, a hundred miles from a 

 lemon or a railroad, we one night pitched our white tent upon the 

 clean, white sands of a little island. Behind us rose a large dead 

 pine, its gnarled branches silhouetted sharply against the sky, 

 upon which the turkey vultures came to perch and preen their 

 feathers. That night the veery — the " wilderness bird " we called 

 him — sang entrancingly long after all other bird-notes were hushe'd 

 and darkness had settled upon the earth. Out on the lake rang 

 out the wild demoniacal laughter of the loons. It was a wild spot, 

 — remote, lonely. 



The next day, as we sat beside our campfire, eating a meal, I 

 noticed a chimney swift fly to a tall stub that stood upon the shore 

 and disappear beneath a projecting twig. Examination disclosed 

 a small hole, into which the bird had apparently entered. Further 

 observation confirmed this conclusion. The birds were using the 

 stub, presumably for breeding purposes. The next day presump- 

 tion was changed to certainty. After chopping a hole in the base 

 of the stub, my companion crawled in, and worming his way up 

 the hollow interior, found a nest composed of sticks glued together 



