16 TH E-A‘U DiWBIOIN] BU bee 
UNEXPECTED GUEST 
By Betty Groth, 
Vice President —- Conservation 
“You're a day too late,” Dr. Brookes told me when I reached the big log 
house at Land’s End in the Door County Peninsula, an invited guest to this 
wilderness beauty. “Did I miss the Pileated Woodpecker again?” I asked. 
“No, not the woodpecker. Something more startling. You’re Vice President 
of the Illinois Audubon Society. Can you tell us what large gray bird 
plummeted down our chimney into the living room fireplace yesterday 
morning at 9:102” 
“You mean you had a big bird in the living room yesterday mcrning 
and you don’t know what it was?” 
“T had it in my arms,” 
Open mouthed, I listened to reports like an investigating attorney, 
sorting out the evidence. Dr. Margaret Brookes was leaving the house to 
fetch Mrs. Huter, her housekeeper, when this uninvited guest arrived 
unexpectedly. There was a thump from the two-story chimney, and a 
rustling of heavy paper in the fireplace. Then came a hissing. Envision- 
ing another snake (one had enjoyed the stone hearth some time back), 
she went for a flashlight and turned it on the fireplace. Nothing moved. 
Behind the left andiron in the corner was a fairly large, ashy gray back 
of feathers, and a neck that seemed curved. IT looked at her over its 
shoulder, disclosing a long, pointed bill. Not a feather moved. The hissing 
stopped. Puzzled, she anchored hearth tools against the fire screen and 
left hurriedly to get Mrs. Huber, three miles away. 
On their return, Dr. Brookes donned her fire gloves, removed the fire 
screen, removed the wood, and then the left andiron. Still the bird did 
not move. Now it was time to remove the bird. The long beak looked pretty 
sharp. Dr. Brookes reached out and found the back too broad for her 
grasp. Putting one hand on the back and the other below, she tried to lift 
the bird in her arms. It began to struggle and thrust out a wing. Dr. Brookes 
returned the bird to the hearth. Exchanging glances and firegloves with 
Mrs. Huber, she withdrew in favor of an expert with turkeys and other 
fowl. 
Mrs. Huber reached in and grasped the bird by the back, holding down 
the large wings, Dr. Brookes went at once for her telephoto lens and 
Retina Reflex to record the evidence, for no one would ever believe this. 
Mrs. Huber stroked the bird’s head reassuringly, and a reddish brown 
crest was raised. IT was carried outdoors to pose for pictures. On location, 
after several shots, they wished to test the degree of injury or helplessness 
of the bird. While Mrs. Huber put IT gently on the ground at her feet, 
Dr. Brookes focused again. The bird staggered a few steps, displayed a 
length of 20 to 25 inches. IT lifted a wing so that feathered bars appeared 
underneath, and nearly tipped over. Then the bird leveled like an aircraft, 
taxied a few steps forward, and soared up over the workshop and garage, 
disappearing into the forest of maple, hemlock, birch and spruce without 
so much as saying goodbye. This is in the direction of the elusive Pileated 
Woodpecker, the porcupine, and the garden from which deer materialize 
to nibble at the yellow rose bush. It is the direction of the other shore. 
Now, could I tell them what the bird was? I began the cross-examina- 
tion. Some kind of a gull? Herons nesting near here again? Possibly a 
young crane? The adults are gray and have a bit of red on their head, 
