ILLINOIS AUDUBON SOCIETY 45 



old cat-tail before me. and looking more closely saw seven large whitish eggs 

 on it, finely sprinkled with black. It was the nest of a Coot or Mudhen. 

 Nearby was another one. 'Then a Black Tern or Sea Swallow arose from 

 the marsh nearby, circled around us, uttering cries of apparent displeasure 

 at our trespassing on her watery domain. Keeping the yellow heads in 

 view, I pushed on. A rod or so farther on. 1 saw another floating mass of 

 cat-tail before me, heaped up with freshly put on material. Knowing the 

 tricks of the Pied-billed Grebe or Dipper. I recognized it as one of her 

 nests, and lifting off the moist cat-tail from the top saw the seven huffy 

 eggs of this well-known denizen of open swamps. The bird had heard 

 our approach, had hastily put on the concealing vegetation, making the 

 nest look like many of the other masses of similar material to be seen on all 

 sides, and had slunk off. Nearby was another with two eggs, camouflaged 

 the same way. By this time I had lost my Vellowheads, and could not 

 locate the nests, especially since the water was getting deeper, and cooler, 

 and wetter, as it seemed to me. There were nests of the gaudily dressed 

 Redwing on all sides, also the queer globular ones of the Prairie Marsh 

 Wren, who protested vigorously against our intrusion. So we turned back 

 toward shore, but not before we had seen a Blue-winged Teal, with its 

 white crescent on each cheek, which no doubt had a nest in there some- 

 where. I was told that in some years quite a number of wild ducks had nested 

 there. Coming to shore, we noticed that our wet clothes did not improve 

 our appearance, or our feeling of comfort, but we did not get time to mind 

 it. because new things turned up right along such as Little Green Herons. 

 Upland Plover, Black-crowned Night Herons, and, to cap these experi- 

 ences with a climax, we flushed a Prairie Hen from her nest of thirteen 

 eggs. It was in a clump of alfalfa, about ten feet from a road where many 

 autos passed daily. Some of our clothing had dried on us, and we kept on 

 talking about our experiences in the water. Such is the wonderfully rich 

 and interesting life of the marsh. There, life is fairly piled up, flora and 

 fauna display themselves more lavishly than in most places on dry land. 



Now comes the sequel. August 19th of the following year, we went 

 over the same route, to the same place. But imagine my surprise when 

 instead of seeing the graceful scirpus Lacustris, wild rice, cat-tails, etc., and 

 hearing the cries and calls of marsh and water birds, we saw 7 cows peace- 

 fully browsing, looking at us with mildly inquiring eyes — not even a trace 

 of marsh or water flora and fauna remaining. The beautiful slough had 

 been drained by the owner of the farm, who had no eye for the beauties of 

 wild life, but only for the coin, the milk from the kine. and later the crops 

 the new ly won field would bring him. 



The moral of the tale is plain. If we want to retain the native birds 

 of such areas, and enjoy in the open the varied form, voice and color, we 

 must set aside preserves before it is too late. Nor should we then think 

 only of the birds of the forest, grove and prairie, but also of the water 

 birds. They are suffering more and more by the increasing cultivation of 

 the soil, which is necessary to feed us humans. They have to leave us. not 

 of their choice, but because they are compelled by being deprived of their 

 nesting sites and conditions. 



Recently the writer read Mr. E. W. Nelson's "Birds of Northeastern 

 Illinois," written in 1876. I was astounded at the difference in conditions as 



