68 
FOREST AND STREAM 
February, 1922 
OBSERVATIONS FROM SHELL POINT 
THE PELICAN AND THE HERON ARE EVER PRESENT AMONG THE MANY 
INTERESTING VARIETIES OF BIRD LIFE ALONG THE GULF COAST 
By OSCEOLA 
T he outlook from the shanty on 
Shell Point is extremely attrac- 
tive to one in tune with Nature 
and will prove ever changing' 
with the change of tides and winds, the 
weather and seasons. Long-winding 
lines of jagged-faced bars rise up in 
most mysterious fashion from the placid 
heaving surface as one looks seaward 
on a cloudless, windless day ; a very net- 
work of such lines appear when the 
spring tides are on and the power of 
the Queen of Night forces the mighty 
ocean to withdraw for the time. It need 
not be wondered that a general opinion 
prevails that Shell Point was built up so 
high above the water’s edge by the Ab- 
origines in the centuries gone by, when 
one knows of the luscious food to be 
had on these same lines of bars by a 
visit while the tides have receded leav- 
ing the native oysters exposed. For- 
merly just outside the door of the shanty 
at the end of the Point there stood a fine 
large sugar-berry tree that cast most 
welcome shade during the long hot sum- 
mer afternoons, but a few years ago the 
ravages of winds and floods aided, I 
fear, by thoughtless hands with axe fin- 
ished a declining life and the tree has 
disappeared, leaving no successor worthy 
the name. 
The crowning feature of the Point, 
aside from the ever-present, all-pervad- 
ing, overpowering feeling of a nearness 
to Nature as one walks this ridge alone 
and looks out over the vast expanse of 
waters is a lowly well of clear, fresh, 
good water on the seaward, sloping side 
of the ridge about equidistant from the 
little building and the seething, foaming, 
briny sea. In years gone by someone 
dug out and boarded up this precious 
gem and now with the aid of a slender 
stick and a suspended can a most re- 
freshing draught may be had standing 
but a few paces from the salt-sea sands. 
""P HE sky was overcast and a stiff sou- 
^ wester blew off the Gulf as I 
crawled out at 4 :00 A. M. and made my 
way in the chill morning fog down the 
railway track, which is the main thor- 
oughfare of our little fishing village, and 
on to the river. One of our fishing boats 
was going to the westward about fifteen 
miles and starting for the high-water 
fishing and I had arranged to have my 
skiff towed to Shell Point that I might 
again spend the greater part of the day 
with the birds thereabouts, and intend- 
ing to row home towards nightfall. 
Courtesy American Museum of Natural History 
Louisiana heron 
As we approached our destination, a 
single brown pelican came parallel- 
ing the shore line, but a few feet above 
the water, flapping vigorously and then 
sliding on set wings and thus continuing 
as long as in sight and so they usually 
proceed in larger or smaller numbers 
like a troop of boys on a pond of ice, 
running a few steps and sliding, to re- 
peat time after time. Quaint-looking 
gentry, these same old pelicans, with a 
hoary ancient look if viewed at close 
range. Graceful and almost swan-like 
when swimming on the quiet waters, ex- 
cept that the semblance is ludicrously 
dispelled by the huge dependent bill 
seemingly tied down to the neck in a 
most uncomfortable manner. When 
amusing themselves high overhead, per- 
haps five or six soaring and circling 
calmly on set wings, they lose all indi- 
cations of crude distortion and display 
an ease and grace most interesting and 
wonderful. During the winter and 
early spring-time we frequently see 
great ranks of the white pelicans. 
When ashore and viewed across a far- 
reaching stretch of water one can well 
imagine a snowbank blown up by fierce 
blasts and drifted down to the water’s 
edge. This latter species, however, only 
tarries with us until the promise of a 
milder turn in the weather conditions 
far northward, when they take up their 
little journey of hundreds of miles to 
conduct their household affairs, rear a 
family and hasten southward before the^ 
wintry chills come with blighting fury. 
DY the middle of the afternoon the 
clouds had broken, the wind veered 
to the northward and cooler weather 
was in prospect. I had been unable 
to see the herons and it was late 
to begin a fifteen-mile pull against 
wind and tide, so I decided to re- 
main over, feeling sure of a welcome 
at the board of my friendly fishermeil 
and there will be a spare bunk on board 
the launch. A hard pull of two miles s 
skirting the larger island of the group 
brings me to the fringe of low bushes, 
bordering the water’s edge, in which the . 
“Silver Gray” herons have formerly j 
been domiciled. Two years ago and'" 
once before I visited this island consid- 
erably later in the season on both occa- 
sions and found many birds here and 
the bushes, not over 8 to 10 feet high, 
loaded down with the many nests. Frail 
devices they seemed in which to rear|i| 
a family — a handful or so of light sticks 
seemingly thrust into the upright forks > 
of these bushes and at the mercy of 
winds and storms. Many of them are 
destroyed in time of high winds, such 
as at times descend on this coast ; but to- 
day not a single nest do I find and but 
two or three of these herons are visible 
out over the Bay making their way on 
slow-beating wings, perhaps to keep 
tryst, for (in May) it is fully time for 
them to be engaged in the cares of a 
home. Away across this island to the 
southward I can see a few of these 
Louisiana herons perched atop a higher 
clump of hushes and recall that over 
there we had noted them most abundant 
on a former visit here. 
Returning to my boat I crossed a 
small cove that made into the island, 
near where I had tied up, and decided 
to try a tramp across the island towards 
the birds and bushes just seen and thusj 
avoid a long, hard pull of an extra mile " 
or more. Making fast my boat to an 
oar thrust into the mud I stepped up 
onto the edge of the broad, open marsh jj 
and was promptly greeted by a most un- ij 
expected and almost overwhelming cloud 
of the very birds I was seeking. Herons 
arose out of the reeds like swarming 
bees from a bive. To be sure they are 
large bees, but the air seemed full of 
them at any rate. They went straight j 
