14 T HOE. A UD UB O'N® *BiU i Lene iis 
We have visited some of the islands twice in the summer, but most 
of them we visit but once each year. This being the case, we have not 
been able to get back to band chicks from a second nesting. We visited 
only one colony in 1942 and not any since that time, due to shortage of 
bands to begin with, and also rationing of gasoline and tires. It is our 
hope that this year we can make our usual trips to the several colonies. 
It is interesting to see terns dive into the water for their food and 
then shake the water from their feathers as they gain flight again. If a 
large school of minnows is found, a big flock of birds will soon gather for 
the feast. 
My two sons, Dr. Frederick E. Ludwig and Dr. Claud A. Ludwig, and 
I have worked together in the bird banding activity, and have found it 
most interesting and worthwhile. 
ft ft ft 
THE CRAFTY NATURE of the crow tribe was amply illustrated the other day 
when two hunters, armed with shotguns and a crow call, and accompanied 
by one of the farm youngsters, launched a determined offensive against the 
hundreds of crows which nest in the woodlots of the Wheaton farm. The 
day long campaign netted only six of the big black birds, despite a series 
of stratagems on the part of the hunters and the boy. 
The hunters admittedly were not experts in the use of the crow call, 
a wooden device with a thin metal reed that closely resembles the con- 
ventional duck call. Repeated use of the device, however, succeeded in 
luring one curious crow within gunshot, and one of the hunters brought 
him to earth. 
From then on the shooting perked up, with the dead crow playing an 
important role. The late robber was trussed up in a lifelike position in a 
grassy glade at the edge of the wood. The hunters took up their posts 
behind a screen of leafy young oaks and haws, and began playing coaxing 
tunes on the raucus crow call. 
Pretty soon, an old crow, with one primary pinion missing from his 
left wing, began circling high above the dead bird, cawing excitedly. Around 
and around he soared, gradually losing altitude as he tried to make out 
what sort of tasty morsel his grounded brethren had stumbled upon. 
Finally the old crow, which evidently had been assigned as an advance 
guard, decided the coast was clear, for he changed the tone of his ery a 
trifle and crows began to swoop in from all directions. The guns blazed, 
and two more crows came tumbling to the ground. The sound of the shots 
sent the other crows scurrying, while old Missing Pinion shot straight up 
into the air to resume his cawing reconnaissance. 
The farm youngster was then pressed into service. He was intructed 
to walk boldly away from the hunters’ blind, and stroll over to the other 
end of the wood. The theory was that the crows would think the site 
vacated and return. It worked. Before the lad had reached the opposite 
edge the sentry again changed his call, and once more the crow population 
began circling the glade. This time the hunters netted three of the low 
flying birds. 
