The Black-necked Stilt 
355 
small pond or island mud-flat seemed to have a few pairs wading around 
with stately tread until the intruder was sighted, when their infernal 
racket began.” 
In May, 1916, I found the Stilts on the Louisiana marshes between 
Avery Island and the Gulf of Mexico. Anticipating a visit to this terri- 
tory I had expressed a hope to my friend and prospective host, Mr. E. A. 
Mcllhenny, that he would pilot me to the nesting-grounds of these curious 
and ridiculously long-legged birds. Upon arriving there I was assured 
that this wish would be granted, as he had instructed one of the guards 
on the Ward Mcllhenny Wild Life Reservation to begin three days before 
to search for a nest with eggs. Two days later the yacht bearing us 
passed up a deep canal through the marsh to a region where the 
A LOUISIANA MARSH— A BREEDING HAUNT OF STILTS 
grass was short, and shallow fresh-water ponds were numerous. Here 
Stilts were in evidence, sometimes six or eight birds at once. 
From the canal-bank the slender yellow face of the bird-warden 
beamed a welcome. He announced that he had found one nest, and that 
doubtless others were in the neighborhood. I have seldom experienced 
a harder task than the half-mile walk I took with the guard to see this 
nest. The whole region had until recently been submerged, and nearly 
every step was a plunge into mud knee-deep. When the long expected 
spot was reached the guide stooped down and parting a bunch of tall 
marsh-grass proudly pointed to an object beneath him. Slowly and 
sadly I picked it up. It was an egg of the Clapper Rail — and rotten. 
This newly employed guard had not yet become familiar with 
the Stilt’s manaer of nest-building. No doubt the Stilts had nests in 
