446 The National Geographic Magazine 



ing from the fishing' grounds they 

 usually fly in flocks of from four to ten, 

 in single file, the leader setting the pace 

 and the rest in slow measured strokes 

 flop or sail in unison. The adult, in the 

 breeding season, has a seal-brown head 

 and neck with a yellowish crown, the 

 remainder of the body being silver gray ; 

 the young, when half grown, are a soft, 

 snow white, changing to a dull gray 

 brown for the first year. 



Late in October and on the same day 

 the pelicans of Indian River suddenly 

 assemble from all directions as though 

 controlled by instinct or concerted sig- 

 nals, and a few weeks later are house- 

 keeping on a small island occupied ex- 

 clusively by pelicans for at least seventy- 

 five years. 



Recently all the mangrove bushes have 

 been broken down or destroyed by the 

 heavy nests, with the result that the peli- 

 can, from a tree-nesting bird, now occu- 

 pies the ground, even though many 

 similar adjoining islands are well 

 wooded. 



The breeding season is very pro- 

 longed, lasting until nearly June, with 

 marked evidence of breeding in detach- 

 ments, due partly to the small area of 

 the island, the loss of young by high 

 tides or frosts, and perhaps also to the 

 fact that many of these birds raise more 

 than one brood each season. 



The young are usually three in num- 

 ber and therefore, unlike the man-o'-war 

 birds and the boobies, are sufficiently 

 abundant to withstand the ordinary per- 

 secution by man, destruction by disease, 

 or the elements. The full-grown young 

 are cannibalistic, swallowing down the 

 newly hatched with evident relish when- 

 ever the parent birds of the latter are 

 away for more than a moment or two. 



Under the wise protection of the Na- 

 tional Audubon Society and through the 

 foresight of President Roosevelt in set- 

 ting aside this island as a government 

 reservation for breeding birds, there 

 should be little difficulty in preserving 

 the pelican of Florida from extinction, 

 where now they may be seen daily along 

 four hundred miles of coast, partly fill- 

 ing the gap made by the almost complete 



destruction of the egret, the white heron, 

 the flamingo, and the roseate spoonbill, 

 the former victims of a woman's fashion. 



SMALL GAME IN A FLORIDA ORANGE GROVE 



We have now nearly reached the bot- 

 tom of last season's game-bag, and in it 

 will be found specimens of bird and ani- 

 mal life more common to the suburbs or 

 the less remote portions of our country. 

 To many of the present readers big-game 

 hunting is beyond their anticipation, and 

 therefore the opportunity to picture at 

 their country homes many local birds 

 and animals is worth reciting, however 

 much the writer's inclination lies in seek- 

 ing game of rarer kind. 



After leaving the pelicans of Indian 

 River a visit was made to relatives on 

 the Halifax River, one hundred miles 

 farther north, where a big orange grove 

 extended back to heavy timber and many 

 thickets. No rain having fallen for 

 three months, the birds and forest ani- 

 mals were alert for any new sources of 

 water supply. Taking advantage of this, 

 I sank a small wooden pail level with the 

 soil, filled it with water, and by it scat- 

 tered bread crumbs, grain, and oranges 

 cut in twain, while twenty feet away my 

 little green canvas tent was erected, 

 partly sheltered with palmettoes. 



In a short while many visitors came, 

 and as the tent was moved closer each 

 day, they feared it not. On the third 

 day I entered the blind for the first time, 

 using my largest lens (14-inch focus). 



In the total of four hours spent in the 

 tent on different days, I succeeded in get- 

 ting photographs of the cardinal (male 

 and female), mocking-bird, cheewink 

 (male and female), turtle-dove, sand- 

 dove, brown thrasher, field sparrows, 

 quail (male and female), squirrels, rab- 

 bits, and wood-rats, several of which are 

 here shown approaching or nibbling at 

 the oranges, which above all else were 

 their favorite food and drink. A pair 

 of quail excited my greatest interest, as 

 their appearance was totally unexpected, 

 though I had been hearing their soft 

 spring notes near by for several days. 



And here ends, for the present at least, 

 the tale of a camera's conquest in the 

 realms of the woods and the waters. 



