A Visit to the Lake Erie Terns 



By GERTRUDE FAY HARVEY 



With photographs from nature by Robert F. Griggs 



HEN and Chickens, or, to speak more definitely. Old Hen, Big 

 Chicken, Little Chicken and Chick, form an insignificant group 

 of islands in western Lake, Erie. They are quite devoid of at- 

 traction to all save the naturalist, a fact for which he is duly grateful. 



Old Hen contains several acres of ground, is fairly well wooded, and 

 has a boat -landing and a farm-house which is occupied during the sum- 

 mer season. The Chickens are barren gravel piles in the midst of the 

 water, offering neither food nor shelter to any living thing. They are 

 the home of the Terns, for whom a mere resting-place is sufficient, and 

 who find on these stones the things most needed — seclusion and freedom 

 from pursuit. These Terns, known as the Common or Wilson's Tern, 

 or more picturesquely, Sea Swallow, are of the same species as those 

 which frequent the Atlantic coast. 



Terns, unlike Gulls, which are seldom seen except in open waters, 

 haunt the shores and bays, and are familiar to all who visit the lake- 

 cities and islands. They soar slowly over the water at the side of ex- 

 cursion boats, often with bills directed downward, watching for their prey. 

 Suddenly one descends, thrusts its bill into the crest of the wave and 

 rises in an easy gliding curve — unsuccessful. Judging from the number 

 of attempts the birds make before capturing one fish, their way of life 

 must be difficult indeed. They perch on the poles where fishermen 

 spread their nets; they travel tirelessly back and forth and around, singly 

 or in groups, one of the loveliest and most distinctive features of our 

 lake scenery. The glistening pearly feathers and wide-extended wings, 

 the red of bills and feet, the sharp contrast between the shining black 

 of crown and neck and the shining white of throat and breast, attract 

 the attention of the most careless observer. They live entirely on small 

 fish, and are as harmless as Hummingbirds. Like Hummingbirds, too, 

 they have been sacrificed chiefly to the plume-hunter's greed and women's 

 thoughtlessness. The dainty birds are very effective as ornaments; and 

 what do the women know, or the plume-hunters either, of the gentle- 

 ness, beauty and charm of the wild, living Tern ? 



Birds like these, which find their food and make their homes away 

 from the haunts of men, seem peculiarly at the mercy of an invader 

 when tracked to their homes. Their eggs and young are on the open 

 ground. The parent birds, panic-stricken by the strangeness of the 

 attack, hover helplessly about, merely uttering their distressful cries. A 

 single Catbird will make a brave fight for her young. Several together 

 are afraid of nothing on earth. These thousands of Terns, with strong 



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