The skimmer (Rynchops nigra) is perhaps the most interesting species breeding on the shell keys of Louisiana. Great bands of these solemnly dressed birds stalk gravely along the shell and then rise and wing away with a peculiar erratic flight, swinging here and there, and calling out monotonously. They are very conspicuous against the ground and show up plainly on the nest, but sometimes in flight the whole flock will disappear from view, for their wings are margined with white and may blend with the colors of the sky The young skimmer when crouching in the sands looks not unlike a young tern. It has the upper and lower mandibles of about the same length (compare with adult skimmer above). These birds nest in large colonies on all the "outside" islands of the Gulf Coast, choosing the exposed beaches as the proper place to deposit their three or four protectively mottled eggs in a mere scoop in the sand OBSERVATIONS ON THE WATER BIRDS OF LOUISIANA a few birds, but Buck thought otherwise and proceeded to read the law to them. He said that he had been commissioned to "run-hell-out-of" anyone coming in there, and he was going to do it. Under the circumstances, the men decided to leave the birds unmolested. In the last few years I have observed a great increase in numbers of the wild fowl which swarm along the Gulf Coast, and all the men living in that region say the same. In fact, the geese and ducks were in such hordes in 1917 that they inflicted serious loss on the rice farms of Cameron Parish. The ground was white with thousands of snow geese, and clouds of ducks poured into the fields. It is a sight that makes a bird lover happy-even though the rice farmer does not appreciate the beauty of it. The great "pastures" of the gulf, wide-stretching prairies, are the feeding grounds of a multitude of blue geese, Canadas, and white-fronted geese. I witnessed a flight of blue geese that I shall never forget and yet the old-timers of Louisiana say there are relatively only a few of the blue geese left today. I rode on horseback late one afternoon to some fresh-water ponds near one of the Cheniers (an oak-grown ridge), and awaited the coming of the birds to their evening resting place. Before my arrival, one flock of geese had already settled, and I could hear their calls a long time before the birds came into view. When within one hundred yards of this great decoy flock, I dismounted and crawled along the edge of the little pool where I could watch them. Their white heads loomed up conspicuously against the dark background, the sprinkling of snow geese marking the size of the flock, so that I could tell how far it extended, even where I could no longer see the darker birds. They "talked" continually, and moved about from one grassplot to another. 49 Soon from afar I heard the echoing call of another flock of blue geese, a call from apparently all directions, clear and resonant, carrying far across the waste lands. In the gray distance, vague, wavy forms appeared, great Vshaped masses, wedging their way surely and confidently with little V's trailing from the ends of the first great band, and weaving shadowy, intricate lines across the dim lit sky. The answering calls of the birds on the ground made a perfect bedlam, as flock after flock of calling birds circled out of the sky and joined the resting throng. There seemed to be from a dozen to fifteen flocks in a company, and as one company settled with military precision, another company would swirl in out of the grayness, while still another great horde could be heard off in the distance. I watched this continual arrival of geese for more than an hour, until it grew too dark to see, and then I still lingered for the sheer joy of hearing all those wild voices. In the morning I saw the birds as they were leaving for the day, and again they seemed to fly in great companies, their long V-shaped flocks trailing across the sky as far as the eye could see. These great flocks of blue geese assemble each winter on the widestretching prairies and the burned salt marshes along the Gulf Coast to feed on the tender shoots of the new grass. There are always a few white-headed patriarchs in the vast band which stand sentinel-like, and watch for possible disturbers. When alarmed the geese rise up in a cloud, like so many gigantic mosquitoes, and circle off a few hundred yards. They feed during the day and at night prefer to rest in the numerous lagoons that dot the marshland. Each day great hordes arise from the feeding grounds, circle around, and then head for the shell banks to "gravel." "Hell Hole" is their favorite resort, and this The blue geese (Chen cærulescens) are conspicuous among the waterfowl for their pure white heads. These geese breed in the Hudson Bay country and migrate to the southern United States during the winter months. Great flocks assemble each year along the Gulf Coast to feed on the tender shoots of the new grass and to "gravel" on the shell banks. The mouth of the Mississippi and the region around South West Pass of Vermilion Bay are the greatest blue goose sections of Louisiana Occasionally the stock raisers of the western part of Louisiana complain that the geese injure their pasture lands, for these birds settle down in great flocks to guzzle in the mud, digging thousands of small lagoons across the fields. They are great "talkers" when flying in bands or when collected together at night, but a few white-headed patriarchs always stand as sentinels to give an alarm at the approach of any intruder. The blue geese associate freely with ducks and other species of geese (especially the snow geese), from which they differ little in habits MISSISSIPPI "MUD LUMPS" AND THEIR SUMMER RESIDENTS Brown pelicans (Pelecanus occidentalis) nest on the different islands along the Louisiana Gulf Coast, and the largest colony in the country is found on the "Mud Lumps" of the Mississippi Delta. Through the faint blue haze of the gulf one sees what appears to be wooded hills with an outspread city at their foot. On nearer approach this resolves itself into a fifteen-foot mound of mud and a row of pelicans. The soft mud underneath the tenacious river bottom of the Mississippi Delta forces up bumps in the latter and then bursts through as a mud "volcano," forming small mud islands. The "lumps" most thickly inhabited by pelicans are found off the mouth of Pass á l'Outre, where at least 50,000 birds come each year to raise their young. The outermost islands are occupied first; then, as larger numbers of birds arrive, the islands toward the shore are gradually filled up, until finally all the islands are covered with families of awkward parents and downy white youngsters. Three chalkwhite eggs are laid in a rather neatly made grass nest, although on some of the mud lumps which are devoid of vegetation the nests are merely a pile of sticks clumsily thrown together. The pelican nests are at times subject to raids by raccoons; in one instance nearly one thousand nests on Grand Cochere Island were destroyed by these animals in six weeks YOUNG ANHINGAS, OR "SNAKE BIRDS," AT HOME The anhingas (Anhinga anhinga) hide their nests in secluded spots directly over the water, frequently selecting the cypresses which abound in the swamps and ponds of Louisiana. The adult birds are wonderful divers and swimmers and when frightened tumble precipitously into the water. In fishing, the anhingas do not drop on to their prey, as do the gulls, for instance, but pursue their victim under the water as it tries to hasten out of harm's way. They swim under water for long distances with only the head and lithe neck above the surface, looking not unlike some strange water serpent-in fact, they are commonly known as "snake birds." The young are covered for the first few weeks with a buff-colored down. They have the peculiar habit (as can be seen in the photograph) of drawing themselves up from the nest by placing their bills over a convenient branch or the edge of the nest. If the young are approached, they merely cling tenaciously to the nest, and when thrown into the water are quite helpless. For the most part anhingas eat small fish, but they will take any of the small creatures of the ponds, even young alligators and small terrapins. The adults feed the young by regurgitation |