The White-faced Glossy Ibis 



into the air before I could level on them. They circled over the lake in 

 rapid, graceful flight, passing several times within easy range of the 

 camera. I retired speedily to the machine, but the Ibises were thoroughly 

 aroused, and rose higher and higher and flew in ever wider circles. Several 

 times they pitched down a hundred feet or so on a sudden impulse, but as 

 surely took fresh alarm. Seeing they were likely to desert the locality 

 as their fellows had done, I started the machine and drove a half mile or 

 so away from the lake. This ruse availed, for on returning and sweeping 

 around the lake boulevard, we found them knee-deep in water and forty 

 feet offshore in a gloriously open place. 



"Passing by as though unheeding, I soon returned prepared, stopped 

 the machine suddenly, then swung on them instantly at 150 feet. They 

 leaped from the water at the sound of the shutter, but settled back almost 

 in their tracks. Again the shutter roared, and again they leaped clear 

 of the water. Our machine was not only in the dead open, but it was 

 perched on the skyline a dozen feet above the birds. 



"Then, although it seemed a perfectly desperate undertaking, I 

 loaded my pouch with plate-holders and set out to stalk the birds directly. 

 Since there was absolutely no intervening cover, I did not even bother 

 to crouch, but I did approach very slowly. Ever and anon I 'shot,' 

 and always the quarry started ; but they did not leap from the water, nor 

 did they attempt to pull away. By the time I had cut the distance in 

 two, I had used up my relay of plates and returned for more. I determined 

 to save up for close shots, but such opportunities are over-tempting. The 

 last plate went when I was within nine steps of the water's edge and still 

 50 feet distant from the birds. It was the last I had, so by way of bravado, 

 I crept to the water's edge, within 35 feet. The birds regarded me with 

 mild curiosity, or pecked at flies, or dozed. Once, when I was nearly 

 back to the machine, another passing auto frightened the birds so that 

 they took a turn around the pond; but they soon returned to the same 

 spot. Although it was a well nigh hopeless undertaking, we motored 

 back to the house three miles away, reloaded two dozen plate-holders, 

 and returned to the charge, just one hour later, 4 p. m. The blessed 

 birds were there, asleep. I began on them where I had left off, namely 

 at the water's edge, but soon waded in ten feet nearer. The Ibises were 

 alert now, but they did not retreat. Ever and again one of their num- 

 ber gave vent to an uneasy trumpeting croak. I took care not to look 

 at the birds, save through the camera, and even so I was too excited 

 to look long. It was punch and roar and change. The birds now paid 

 not the slightest heed to the noise, nor indeed to my professional motions. 

 I had been adopted, and the tired birds resumed their nap. I returned 

 now after ten shots to bring up all the plates I had. It was a glorious 



1931 



