Five Days Among the Birds on Cobb Island, Virginia

FROM Labrador to Florida, on the islands and beaches washed by the waves of the Atlantic, a splendid series of birds lay their eggs and rear their young. The narrow limits and comparatively uniform character of their breeding-grounds make this class of birds exceedingly susceptible to the sentiment prevailing among the nearest human inhabitants, favorable to their existence or otherwise. Their abundance or speedy extinction is absolutely under human control. For this, and for many other reasons, they are among our most interesting birds.

Before the advent of Europeans our littoral birds were doubtless all but immune from danger at their breeding-places. Hawks made raids upon them, and bears and Indians, searching for turtles' eggs, may occasionally have wrought havoc among the beach nests. Christopher Columbus saw flocks of birds and took hope from them long before land was sighted. Captain John Smith, when he visited the "laughing king of Accomack," stirred them from their nests along the Virginia coast, and Sir Henry Hudson saw the shores of New Jersey and Long Island peopled with thousands of gulls and sea-swallows.

The reduction of these beautiful creatures to a pitiful remnant, has for its cause the robbing of untold thousands of their eggs for food, and the worse craze for adornment which has sacrificed cart-loads of breeding birds, to gratify an instinct of woman, harking back to savagery.

Birds of inland woods and fields have myriad places to choose from for nesting sites, but favorable places within sight of the great ocean are fewer in number, and, as a natural result, great colonies of sea-birds are found nesting close together in certain favorite localities, six or eight species sometimes laying their eggs in close proximity. When, to the desire for a safe place for their eggs, we add the strong instinct of these birds to return each year to the islet or bit of beach on which they were hatched, we realize that these chosen localities are to the birds something as our native country is to us. These brave birds of the sea will cling to the few yards of pebbles or sand, flecked with their eggs, with a persistence (what matters whether we call it patriotism, or love of home, or mere instinct!) which endures until perhaps the last survivor of the colony perishes. Or if left undisturbed and encouraged, their numbers will increase until overflow colonies arise near by, and the shore for scores of miles to the south and to the north are enlivened by the incomparable beauty and grace of their form and flight.

What a pity we cannot begin our list with mention of the flocks of thousands of scarlet flamingoes which formerly built their adobe mound-nests on the coral mud-flats near Cape Sable, Florida! All have disappeared, and only a remnant cling to the little known outlying islets of Cuba and the Bahamas.

The brown pelicans which glean their living from the emerald waters of the whole eastern coast of Florida, focus upon a single islet in Indian River. No one knows how long this colony has been in existence, but, after passing through the throes of robbery and slaughter, the mute appeal of the birds and the thought of the irreparable loss which the extinction of these birds would mean to the Florida beaches and bayous, has influenced legislation, and the birds are now safe forever under the protection of the United States Government.

Passing northward, we find among the low marshes and sand- dunes of the Virginia coast another haven for wild sea birds, but one which they now hold with difficulty. Black skimmers, laughing gulls and various species of terns are here found nesting in colonies close together. Continuing to the north, we find small scattered colonies of sea-birds here and there, notably on Gardiner's and other islands at the eastern end of Long Island. On the former island, whose owners for thirteen generations have given the birds protection, several hundred fish-hawks build their nest within the radius of a few square miles. On the Maine coast, where the intelligent sympathy of the inhabitant is readily enlisted, large colonies of herring-gulls and other birds are established, while we may complete our brief and imperfect review with the Birds Rocks in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, where, among other species, gannets, auks, puffins and murres lay their eggs on the ledges and among the crevices of the steep cliffs.

This brief mention of the principal bird colonies of our Atlantic sea-coast will show what a charm will be added to our shores when these birds are so protected that they will form a winged chain extending without a break from the far north to Florida, and even throughout the entire year, for when our sea-swallows and smaller gulls go southward in the fall, herring gulls and other northern species take their places.

The visits we had paid to Gardiner's Island and Pelican Island [vide Z. S. Bulletins, Nos. 11 and 12] only made us the more eager to visit other colonies, and when an opportunity presented itself to study the homes and habits of the birds along the Virginia coast, we were delighted to be able to take instant advantage of it.

During the past summer, in company with some friends we were able to spend a week sailing from island to island along the Virginia coast, we were delighted to be able to take instant advan- of the interesting birds which make the cedars and sand-dunes their home. We were able in this way to study intimately the nesting habits of some dozen of our sea-birds, besides observing many other species.

It was after nine o'clock on the evening of July eleventh when the sleeper moved out of Jersey City, and yet the first rays of the next morning's sun are reflected to us from the waters of Chesapeake Bay, as we leaved the car at Cape Charles [City]. A drive of six miles across country shows the familiar roadside nature of Virginia at its best. The notes of cardinals and bob-whites come to us from every side. Shadows of soaring buzzards pass over the backs of the horses, purple martins and kingbirds swoop across the road. Pine trees are everywhere, and from their needles great crested flycatchers scream and tiny gnatcatchers twang their little ditties. In every field are young birds just out of the nest, calling for food, or struggling with the rudiments of flight. Through and around the whole scene the songs of mockingbirds come to us. Before passing out of earshot of some master singer whose melody absorbs our whole attention, another songster comes within hearing, pouring out a low, soft murmuring, like the undertone of humming insects in our northern fields. The cares of nesting and feeding the young had not silenced these superb musicians.

The fauna of the southern part of the small peninsula comprising Northampton County is interesting as being included in the Louisiana faunal area, so that although so far north, such typically southern birds as the yellow-throated warbler and brown headed nuthatch are found here in summer.

After breakfast at the home of the guide, we leave the pines behind us, and passing through lines of fig-trees, covered with their ripening fruit, we reach the marshy shore. Here a hundred yards of wading is necessary to reach a rowboat, and a half mile of poling before we can climb on board the sixty-foot schooner, or "bug-eye" as the Virginians call it.

Then follows an eighteen-mile sail through scenes as interesting as they are novel to us. We thread our way past island after island, some dry and covered with gnarled cedars where herons nest, or a few scattered pines on whose topmost branches ospreys have piled their cartload of sticks. Marsh-grass of every imaginable shade of green covers other islands, along whose edges mud-flats begin to glisten as the tide leaves them exposed. Curlews, gulls and rails run back and forth, and probe for worms and snails.

As the afternoon passes, whiffs of salt air, fresh from the ocean, come to us, and soon we catch glimpses of sandy beaches and dunes. Twilight begins to close around us as we drop anchor in Loon Channel, just abreast of the Life-Saving Station on Cobb Island. This is the island we are to study, and we will never forget our first view of it. The western sky still glows dull red, the eastern is a mass of black storm-clouds, sending out fierce gusts which moan through the rigging as we eat our supper in the schooner's cabin. Most vivid lightning plays about us, and shows the tossing marsh-grass and swirling sand of the island near by. The staunch little boat tugs at her anchor as the black tide rushes past straight from the sea, and every now and then a curious complaining cry comes from the darkness around the boat - a subdued yeh! - yeh! yeh! - yeh! And our guide tells us that a pair of flood-gulls are passing - following the flood-tide and feeding as they go.

Another weird nocturnal scene is vouchsafed us before the prosaic light of day lessens the mystery, but not the interest of the vague sounds and shapes of this first night. We escape the storm by sleeping in the great launching room of the station, with the wonderful self-righting and self-bailing surf-boats on either hand. About midnight the bright moonlight pours through the wide double doors and awakens us, and going out we find that a wonderful change has taken place. Perfect calm has succeeded the storm, and the great yellow moon, occasionally dimmed with fleecy clouds, makes the vast stretches of marsh only more black, with here and there a silvered bit of water. The slack tide ripples against the reeds, and from everywhere, back in the marsh, along the water, and even from under the station itself, comes a most weird and bewildering chorus - the subdued chuck! chuck! of invisible clapper rails.

Cobb Island is a link in the chain of outlying islands which threads our coast from New Jersey south to the Carolinas. It is about twenty miles north of Cape Charles, opposite Cheriton Station on the New York, Philadelphia and Norfolk Railroad. This island was at one time a fashionable summer resort of Virginians, and as early as the civil war had one or more large hotels and several private dwellings. The former owner of the island, a man named Cobb, accumulated a small fortune by making salt from sea-water, and being proprietor of this summer resort. In those days the island was about fifteen miles long and three or four miles wide, and was at a safe elevation above sea-level. Some ten years ago currents of the ocean began to undermine the island, and now it is uninhabited, its hotels and dwellings having been washed away. Reduced to about one-half its former size, Cobb Island is still one of the principal breeding-grounds of the sea-birds of our middle Atlantic coast. The trust which the white-winged creatures placed in old Ocean, depending on her for daily food, and rearing their young almost within reach of her waves, was not misplaced. With a rush and a swirl she toppled over the structures of the human intruders, drove then in terror from the island, and left but shifting sand-dunes, safe only for the sea-swallows and their kin whose cries had echoed the roar of the surf so many years before their human enemies appeared.

The island may be divided longitudinally into six zones, which merge into one another at certain portions, but, on the whole, are fairly distinct. The seven miles of beach on Cobb Island, which faces the ocean, is a long stretch of breakers booming upon a beach of yellow sand. At certain spots windrows of oyster-shells are piled many feet high, and pebbles and shells cover the upper portions. Beyond the reach of ordinary tides the curving mounds of the sand-dunes are seen, covered with a scanty growth of course grass, mingled with clumps of maritime goldenrod.

Farther inland these dunes rise higher, and are composed partly of earth. Here the grass grows rank and close, and bayberry and "kings" bushes appear. This zone, in the northern portion of the island, continues to the western side, to the edge of the brackish high tides, where it is succeeded by a zone of tall reeds and marsh-grass. Farther out on the mud-flats eel-grass appears, around whose stems hordes of minnows and crabs abound, and where occasional diamond-backed terrapin may be picked up. From this point, especially at the north end of the island, the tide leaves bare a wide expanse of flats, dotted with hollows where the deadly sting-rays hide. Now and then the great side fins of one of these uncanny creatures may be seen undulating through the shallows.

Such is a brief sketch of Cobb Island, a few acres of pebbles and marsh and dunes, which, except for the Life-Saving Station near one end, is as primeval as the day the eye of man first beheld it. Utterly useless for human purposes, it is the home of hundreds of beautiful beings, who fly around us in clouds begging for the safety of their young and eggs, not an individual among them who would not risk its very life to shield its nest from harm. Last year a terrible danger threatened the birds and their young, in the shape of cats which were turned loose on the island. But old Nature came to the rescue of her children, and every feline perished in the first high tides of October. When we learn that twenty-eight hundred birds have been slaughtered in three days on Cobb Island for millinery purposes, we may well blush at having to acknowledge that there exist such brutes in human guise. The least we can do is to guarantee protection to the survivors and their eggs from now on.

To do this intelligently we must know the ways and habits of the birds. So here are the dunes of Cobb Island we pitch our tents; we patrol the beach watching the birds in calm and storm; we pry into their life at midnight, with only the faint ray of a bull's-eye lantern and the roar of the surf to guide us; we photograph them and their eggs and young; we discover their food and enemies; and finally, when we leave them unmolested, it is with the hope that they look upon us as their friends, and we wish that they could appreciate the sympathy and affection which close companionship with such beautiful living creatures has aroused in us.

We remained five days upon Cobb Island - July 12-18 inclusive - and observed twenty-three species of birds, twelve of which were breeding, or had bred this year on the island. This list would doubtless have been longer if we had not confined our attention almost entirely to the gulls, terns and skimmers. The following is a list of these birds with a resume of the notes which we made during our brief stay. One could spend a year upon this limited area without beginning to exhaust the interesting facts of its bird life.

The usual order of classification has been reversed, so that the most interesting and characteristic birds of the island are the last in the list.

1. Barn Swallow (Hirundo crythrogastra, Bodd). Fifteen or twenty pairs of these birds build their nests beneath the station buildings, on the ledges near the piles, the only available places for them, so their presence on Cobb Island is dependent on man. They feed chiefly on mosquitoes which they glean from the brackish marshes at the south end.

2. Song Sparrow (Melospiza cinera melodia, Wils.).

3. Seaside Sparrow (Ammodramus maritimus, Wils.).

Four or five pairs of each of these finches breed here. I found several nests and saw young birds of both species. Several song sparrows and at least one seaside sparrow were in full song. These birds keep to the zone of "kings" bushes near the center of the island and feed on both seeds and insects.

4. Meadowlark (Sturnella magna, Linn.). One individual heard and seen.

5. Nighthawk (Chordeliles virginianns, Gmel.). Several of these birds hawked about the island every evening, apparently finding a plentiful supply of insect food in the air high above the marshes. They are said to lay their eggs on the sand.

6. Osprey or Fish-Hawk (Pandion haliaetus carolinensis, Gmel.). Three or four Ospreys were seen fishing near Cobb Island or flying over. They had half-grown young in their nests near by on Marchon Island.

7. Red-Tailed Hawk (Buteo borealis, Gmel.). A single individual of the species was seen passing over the island headed straight for the ocean. He flew steadily and took no notice of the terns which were mobbing him.

8. American Oyster-Catcher (Hamatopus palliatus, Temm.). Two pairs of these handsome birds were off the island during our stay. We were told that both pairs had bred on the beach in April, but we saw no signs of young birds. The long legs and straight coral-red beak serves to distinguish this species at a considerable distance. This forlorn hope of Oyster-Catchers arrives about the first of April and leaves for the South in September. With suitable protection these interesting birds should breed abundantly here, even though oysters are much less numerous than formerly. Their eggs are hatched and the young birds fledged before the gulls and terns begin to breed.

The mandibles of the Oyster-Catcher are thin, knife-like blades, and show very distinctly the rough usage to which they are subjected in opening the shells of mollusks. One side is invariably worn down, and sometimes the bill is permanently bent from the constant prying strain. I notice these birds feeding on small sand-fleas.

9. Wilson's Plover (Ochthodromus wilsonius, Ord.). We found six of these dainty birds. These also were reported to have bred in April, but no young birds were on Cobb Island while we remained there. Their time of arriving and leaving is about the same as the oyster catcher, and like those birds they seem only waiting the chance to cover the sands with flocks of their black- banded scurrying little forms. Their food consists of small crustaceans and insects.

10. Long-Billed Curlew (Numenius longirostris, Wils.). A few individuals of this rather rare species flew past the island during our stay.

11. Hudsonian Curlew or "Jack" Curlew (Numenius hudsonicus, Lath.). These long-legged birds nest in Alaska and other parts of the far north, and the several small flocks which we saw on Cobb Island were the first of the great host of migrants which wing their way each year from their breeding-grounds to the marshes of South America.

12. Spotted Sandpiper (Actitis macularia, Linn.). Five or six Spotted Sandpipers teetered along the mud-flats near our landing, busily seeking out the worms and snails left exposed by the tide. They doubtless breed on the adjacent mainland.

13. Willet (Symphemia semipalmata, Gmel.). At least two pairs of Willets were breeding on the island. They were greatly concerned when we approached close to where their eggs, or probably young, were concealed. They uttered their plaintive "willy-willy" and fluttered over our heads with dangling legs, or
swooped fearlessly towards us. Despite our painstaking search we could not discover their secret, and we hope that any enemy may have been as unsuccessful. During this season the Willets feed principally on worms and insects.

14. Solitary Sandpiper (Helodromas solitarius, Wils.). I noticed two specimens feeding on the mud flats. This is an early date for this bird, as it nests north of the United States.

15. Yellow-Legs (Totanus flavipes, Gmel.). Like the curlew, the small flocks of Yellow-Legs were the advance guard of the thousands of their kin which would soon appear from the north and pass southward.

16. Clapper Rail or Marsh Hen (Rallus crepitans, Gmel.). This is the most characteristic breeding bird of the marshes on and near Cobb Island. It is very wary and secretive, and seldom allows itself to be seen, but its reiterated calls combined with the remarkable ventriloquial power with which they are uttered, makes it seem as if every bunch of grass hid one or more of these birds. They are very abundant on the island, and without particular search we found several of their nests. The young birds had left in most cases, and two sets of eggs of seven and nine respectively, were almost ready to hatch. A wooden causeway built on piles connected the main building of the Life-Saving Station with the ocean side, and just about two feet to the right of this, half-way across the island, a Clapper Rail had built her nest. Several times we crept up and watched her leave her eggs - a small brown form which swiftly and silently threaded the reeds without touching the water.

On June twenty-third and twenty-fourth unusually high tides had destroyed the nests of hundreds of these birds, and their eggs were washed up along the shore in windrows. The nests which we found in the low marshes had all been built since that time and showed a remarkable provision against a repetition of such a disaster. The nests on the higher dunes were merely a rough collection of reeds upon the ground, while the nests in the flooded portions of the island, although rebuilt at almost the exact location of the old nests, were woven between supporting reeds some eighteen inches higher, the old flattened nests forming a rough platform at one side and below the new structures, and used by the rails as resting places in leaving or returning to the eggs.

The rails feed on small crabs and insects, and they certainly cannot lack for food. If anyone has ever stood barefooted in the waters of a Cobb Island marsh photographing the nest of one
of these birds, he will readily admit that voracious minnows and ravenous crabs are there in tens of thousands!

The little rails and their eggs are considered great delicacies in this part of the country, and suffer accordingly. From the causeway we had a point of vantage; but approach a ground nest, even with the utmost care, and no sign of the parent will be visible. But do not be too ready to accuse the tiny mother of undue fear or neglect, for the spotted eggs will always be warm to the touch.

17. Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias, Linn.). Several young birds of the year had made Cobb Island their home, attracted by the vast quantities of fish and crabs in the marsh creeks. They probably remained there until the fall migration. These birds were hatched, doubtless, at the rookery at Cheapside, some miles away on the main shore. They were quite tame, not having as yet learned the treachery of mankind.

18. Black Skimmer, also known as Flood-Gull and Sea-Hound (Rhynchops nigra, Linn.). Of all the birds whose habits we studied on the coast of Virginia, the Black Skimmers were the most interesting. They breed near the gulls and terns and yet showed most distinct characteristics. Although, owing to the inartistic aspect of the head, these birds have not suffered at the hands of milliners to such an extent as the terns and gulls, yet their numbers have been greatly depleted, and we found that they have another no less terrible foe to combat. These birds are really terns, with a strangely modified bill fitted for their unique method of feeding. They are very strikingly colored, the entire upper part of the plumage being jet black and all the under parts white. The bill and feet are bright red. The upper mandible is always much shorter than the lower, and both as thin as paper knives and as pliable. The method of feeding of these birds has often been described, and yet no description is adequate, - no words can present the charm of their graceful flight. Although these birds are only about a foot and a half in length, their long, narrow wings spread fully four feet. These powerful pinions enable the Skimmers to fly very close to the water, so close indeed that the long lower mandible drops beneath the surface and ploughs a zigzag furrow. All worms and small fishes in the path of this furrow are thus scooped up into the mouth of the bird. And yet, even with such a remarkably shaped bill, it is not impossible for these birds to feed in other ways. We saw several swimming about in small pools and picking up floating insects and small crustaceans. And again a Skimmer, when getting food
for its young, will make one dash at the water and seize a small fish crosswise in its beak.

It is not until late in May that these curious birds arrive from the south and scatter to their various breeding-grounds along the coast. Whether they pair for life I do not know, but the remarkably close association of pairs during the summer, whether making the nest, incubating the eggs, or feeding, would lend credence to such a theory.

For nesting-places the birds select the upper portion of the beach, which is thickly strewn with clam and oyster shells and scattered bits of sea-weed. Here they nest in colonies, eight to ten birds sometimes laying their eggs within an area of a few square yards. A small depression is hallowed out in the sand, and, this simple preparation having been made, three or four egg are deposited. These are very beautiful, the ground color being white, and the whole surface spotted and splashed with black and brown. They vary greatly, and one specimen was seen which was entirely white with only a single large blotch of black on the side.

One would think that such coloration would render the eggs very conspicuous, but such is not the case, and we had to use the greatest care to keep from trampling on the eggs before we saw them. When an oyster-shell happened to extend within the nest, the bird apparently made no attempt to remove it, and in no less than six instances we noticed one of the eggs resting in the hollow of a clam-shell.

We were too early to find young Skimmers, as the birds had been delayed by the destructive high tides, but the old birds were a never-ending source of interest. From the actions of certain individuals it is probable that a very few of the eggs had been hatched. The proverbial needle in a haystack is an easy task compared to finding one or two young sand-colored Skimmers among the miles of dunes, and all search which we made was in vain.

There were two scattered colonies of Skimmers on the island, probably fifty pairs of birds altogether. They were much more solicitous as regards the welfare of their eggs than were the gulls or terns. As we walked up the beach we could see the birds in the distance sitting on their nest, their black upper parts showing conspicuously against the sand, - all facing up wind. The danger line once crossed, all the birds rose as one and wheeling outward swooped past us, their scissor-like mandibles working as they uttered their anxious yeh! yeh! As we approached
the immediate localities of the nests, the excitement increased. Nearer and nearer they swooped toward us, and now one of their most interesting habits was shown. Like night-hawks, partridges and other land birds, they simulated weakness and extreme disablement. No other species in the vicinity practiced this deceit, but there was no mistaking the intentions of the Skimmers. They exerted themselves to the utmost to decoy us away, and always in one direction - toward the sea. The birds swooped at us from right or left, and when close turned sharply outward and flapped slowly toward the water, keeping close to the sand. They struck forcibly with their breasts every hummock of sea-weed in their path, and their progression until they reached the edge of the breakers was a succession of bumps. When only hard damp sand was in their path they lowered their tiny red feet, and partly broke the force of the concussion. When we actually reached the eggs of the outlying nests of the colony, the owners redoubled their efforts, and it was a strange sight to see several go bounding along, occasionally rolling head over heels and lying still a moment, perhaps weakly waving one wing. When they saw that all their efforts were unavailing, the whole flock flew to the edge of the water and alighted. Here they remained until we left the vicinity of their eggs. When thus resting at a distance they looked more like little top-heavy wooden manikins, or a lot of badly made decoys, than like living birds.

We found it a very pleasant experience to leave our tents at the first hint of dawn and walk up the beach, this proving a very favorable time to study the birds, as they seemed less wary at this early hour. The weird ghost-crabs scurried away before us like silent sand-wraiths, and disappeared into their tunnels. They abounded everywhere, and it was quite startling, at first, to awaken in one's tent and see several of these little creatures, twiddling their absurd stalked eyes at the entrance of their newly dug burrow at one's bedside. If a heavy dew had fallen during the night and no wind had disturbed the sand, we could read on its surface, or on newly fallen snow, the record of every creature which had stirred. Here a worm had burrowed to the surface, crawled some distance and vanished, but the imprint of a pair of gull's feet near by explained the mysterious disappearance. Farther on we noticed a crab encircling a Skimmer's eggs with his complicated trail - a mark more sinister than we then supposed. A picture of another Skimmer's nest taken in the early morning, shows evidence of her faithfulness; her tracks to the nest, the impression of her forked tail and the deep lines where her lower
mandible rested upon and cut into the sand at the margin. These bill marks were a sure indication of the direction of the wind during the night and sometimes the entire circle would be thus indented.

Late in the afternoons of windy days we noticed that some of the eggs of the Skimmers were fairly buried beneath the shifting sand, and soon after, when the bird had cleared her eggs, we were given hints of the way these birds make their nest. Unmistakable signs, made the more permanent by the damp cohesive nature of the sand immediately beneath the surface, showed that when the bird wished to make or deepen a hollow, she stood on the edge and flicked out the sand with her flat lower mandible, or else balanced herself in the center of the depression on one leg, and kicked out the sand behind her with the other foot. Weak and small as these limbs are, a Skimmer can send lumps of sand to a considerable distance. When a good-sized depression had thus been made, the bird settled into it, and turning round and round, moulded it smooth with her breast. When they settle down upon upon their eggs they utter a soft lower note, very different from the yeh! yeh! which is their usual vocal utterance.

Of the two hundred or more young Skimmers which we estimated would soon be scurrying over the sand-dunes of Cobb Island, we later learned that not one lived to mature. The cause was reported to be the crabs which so amused us during our stay, but which, at the thought of their devouring every one of the poor helpless fledglings, we now think of with disgust. If this is true, as my recent experience with young Skimmers has led me to believe, a new factor enters into bird protection, comparable with the voracious gulls of the bird colonies on the Farrallone Islands of the California coast, which seize every opportunity to devour the eggs of other birds. The fish-crows of the Florida heron rookeries have also become chronic nest robbers, carrying a failing of their family to an extreme.

The problem of the crabs is one to be undertaken and solved at once if these birds are to be saved from extermination, and it is hoped that during the coming season absolute proof either of the innocence or guilt of these crustaceans can be obtained.

The local name "Flood-Gull" is given to these birds because of the habit which the Skimmers have of following the flood-tide up the creeks in search of food. They are called "Sea-Hounds" from a fancied similarity between their call and the baying of a distant foxhound while in the chase. Their strange habit of feeding at night has been mentioned.

The Black Skimmers leave for the south about the first of October, and are not again seen until the following spring. In the place of the thousands of these birds which formerly bred along our middle Atlantic coast, there are now but two or three small colonies north of Cape Charles, the largest of which are the two, each consisting of about one hundred birds, which breed on Assateague Island.

A flock of these birds - a mass of black, white and scarlet - flying above the green water, beyond the yellow sand, and silhouetted against the clear blue sky, is a picture which will remain in our memory for many years.

19. Least Tern (Sterna antillarum, Less.). - The smallest and the most graceful of the sea-swallows has become only a memory on Cobb Island, where thousands formerly made their home. Once, while at the extreme end of the island, I saw one of these feathered fairies dash past me with a frightened glance. Was
she the last survivor, haunting the place where once her young were reared?

On Assateague Island, forty miles to the north of Cobb, a colony of four hundred Least Terns still hold their own, and the last week in July about a hundred young birds were safely hatched.

20. Common Tern (Sterna hirundo, Linn.). - We estimated that there were about five hundred mature Common Terns and two hundred eggs on the island. These had just begun to hatch, and pipped eggs were in almost every nest. These birds begin to arrive about April first and leave in October. Next to the Least Terns they have paid the heaviest tribute to plume-hunters and the agents of milliners.

As we approached a colony of Common Terns, they rose en masse and circling and wheeling about our heads filled the air with their anxious cries, - tearr! tearr! tearr! But no matter how closely we examined their eggs or young they never seemed
as bold as the skimmers. Their favorite nesting site is the irregular line of sea-wrack which marks the highest reach of some unusually high tide. When they nest on the bare sand, a few stems of reeds or grass are placed around the eggs. This is, doubtless, the last remnant of some former more elaborate and useful nest-building trait.

The nestling Terns, as soon as they are dry, begin to pant from the excessive heat of the sun and leave the nest at once, scrambling along until they rest under the shade of some stalk of goldenrod. Most of the young birds spend the day squatting close to the ground, and only moving to welcome the approach of the parents with food. They are fed on predigested fish for over a week. The Terns hereabouts are called "Strikers," from the method of fishing of the old birds, which dash down vertically against the water with momentum which sends up a cloud of spray. At night the Terns and other young beach-hatched birds take long excursions. At eleven and twelve o'clock it was most interesting to take a bull's-eye lantern and walk noiselessly along the shore, with only a narrow swath of light to guide us. Tiny white forms would occasionally scurry away, and giving chase we would soon run down a young tern. It seemed strange to find such tiny helpless little beings abroad in the darkness, but at the first frightened peep which he uttered at being cornered, a harsh angry tear-r-r-r would come from the darkness overheard, and we knew that Mother Tern's sharp eyes were watching over the little fellow, guarding him through all the blackness of night.

Although secure in their island home from all four-footed enemies, yet careful study of the lives of these young birds would doubtless reveal many tragedies.

One incident which I noticed was interesting as throwing light upon a habit peculiar to many birds - that of the parent removing the pieces of egg-shell as soon as the young birds has escaped. The skimmers, gulls and Terns all do this. I watched one baby Tern escape from this olive-hued prison, and roll wet and sprawling out upon the warm sand. The parent Tern was greatly disturbed, and swooped threateningly at my head all the time I remained. As usual, a small quantity of blood escaped from the egg membranes and more remained within the shell. Hardly had youngster freed himself when a small ant appeared at the edge of the nest, waved its antennae for a moment and disappeared. The word had evidently been quickly passed, and scores upon scores of these ferocious little creatures swarmed over the eggshell and young birds. The little fellow writhed and tried to
scramble away, but his strength failed him, and as the fierce ants had already pierced his thin skin, there is little doubt as to what the ultimate result would have been. I removed the blood-stained egg, scattered the ant hordes and placed the nestling Tern some distance away. Is not the principal result gained by the removal of the blood-scented shell to lessen the danger of attacks from keen-scented enemies - insects and others, - rather than to bridge over any fancied weakening of the protective coloration scheme which the unbroken egg and the young bird so perfectly typify? And when we consider what a great source of danger the diffusion of the odor even of the rapidly drying blood within the shell would be, does this explanation not suffice to account for this habit of ground-nesting birds, and do away with the need to trace its origin to ancestral species which carried on their nidification in trees? We were surprised to notice the extent to which the Terns and Gulls feed on insects, this diet in some cases seeming to take entirely the place of fish.

21. Forster's Tern (Sterna forsteri, Nutt.).

22. Gull-Billed Tern (Gelochelidon nilotica, Hasselq.). - About a score of these birds nest upon the island, their habits being very similar to those of the Common Terns.

23. Laughing Gull (Larus atricilla, Linn.). - We estimated that there were five hundred Laughing Gulls on the island, nesting among the clumps of grass in two large colonies. These were associated with the colonies of skimmers and terns, the several species evidently finding each other's presence agreeable, and thus enlivening the island at these favorite sections from the beach back through the dunes and marsh. The nests of the Gulls were in some instances very artistic, the eggs being concealed under overhanging grass stems, with an arched entrance, two feet or more in length. When the nests are built on the lower, wet portions of the marsh, they are often a foot or more above the ground, the eggs lying on a rough pile of reeds.

These Gulls are strikingly colored, their wings and back being pearl-gray, the large flight feathers black, the under parts white, while the head and throat is a dark slate in hue. Mr. Chapman has very aptly compared them, when sitting on their nests, to white flowers scattered over the marsh, and even when we know that they are birds, the odd coloring of the head and wing feathers, rendering these parts almost invisible, so breaks up the shape of the sitting birds that the general effect is only of an indeterminate mass of white.

The Laughing Gulls do not swoop at one as do the terns and
skimmers, but when the colony is disturbed the birds all fly back and forth - a great intermingling mass of forms in the air above the marsh. They have a clear, high note, and occasionally they break out into an ah-ah-ah-ah-ah which bears some resemblance to our expression of mirth. The young birds seem to have much the same habits as the terns, although very few had hatched at the time of our visit. At night they roam about the beach, the members of each brood keeping together. The adult Gulls, and indeed most of the birds on the island, seemed to enjoy an insect diet. Dragon flies in the marshes, and the white-winged tiger beetles of the beaches, were devoured by the hundred.

RESULTS.

A. As immediate direct results of the trip, ninety-two specimens of living birds, representing six species, were added to the Society's collection. Acknowledgment should here be made of the courtesy of Dr. J. W. Bowdoin, President of the Eastern Shore Game Protective Association of Virginia, in granting permits to collect and to ship out of the State, birds protected by law.

B. Exhaustive notes were made upon the heron rookeries of this part of Virginia, which will form the subject of a future paper.

C. Even the brief examination which we were enabled to make
of the status of the avifauna of Cobb Island, showed the diminution in numbers from the figures given by Mr. Chapman and other observers in 1902 and in former years. This emphasized the importance which absolute protection would mean, not only to the breeding birds in summer, but also to the great numbers of birds which make these waters their home during fall and winter.

D. The most important result of our visit to Cobb Island was a discovery of far-reaching importance to the bird collections of the Zoological Society. A score or more of the eggs of terns, skimmers and gulls, nearly ready to hatch, were collected and brought to the Zoological Park, with the intention of preserving the embryos for future microscopical and gross study. When the time came to remove them, although the eggs had been gathered over three days previously, and indeed some were partly crushed on the journey, yet the little unhatched creatures were found to be in such vigorous condition that instead of being sacrificed to the science of embryology, the eggs were placed in an incubator. Not only did the individuals of each species hatch and escape from the shells, but they were successfully fed and reared by hand until the young birds were able to feed themselves. This unique undertaking has yielded many interesting facts as to the growth and development - both physical and mental - of these little-studied young birds. These notes will be elaborated during the coming year, and will fill out many important gaps in the life-histories of the birds. For example, the characteristic call and alarm notes of the adult terns and skimmers are uttered by the young birds while their bodies are yet within the egg. The food of the terns for more than a week is fish which has been macerated in the crop of the parent for about two hours, while the young skimmers require small living fish from the first. The nestlings of the black skimmer have only about one-half the strength of young common terns, and about one-third that of nestling gulls, the comparison, of course, being between birds of the same age. This would seem to lend credence to the report that the young skimmers hatched on Cobb Island this season have succumbed to the attacks of the ghost-crabs.

The fact that birds so small and so fastidious as to diet were successfully reared, presages important results when the eggs of birds of other orders can be collected and incubated. Young birds
thus hatched and reared within the confines of Bird Valley would be perfect as to plumage, tame, and absolutely contented with their life in our great Zoological Park.

BIRDS OBSERVED ON OR NEAR COBB ISLAND, VIRGINIA.

Horned Grebe.

Loon.

Red-Throated Loon.

Razor-Billed Auk.

Herring Gull.

Ring-Billed Gull.

Bonaparte Gull.

Caspian Tern.

Royal Tern ("Gannet").

Roseate Tern.

Black Tern.

Gannet.

Double-Crested Cormorant.

Brown Pelican.

Red-Breasted Merganser.

Mallard Duck.

Black Duck.

Baldpate.

Green-Winged Teal.

Blue-Winged Teal.

Shoveller Duck.

Pintail.

Red Head.

Canvasback Duck.

Scaup Duck.

Lesser Scaup Duck.

Golden-Eye Duck.

Buffle-Head Duck.

Long-Tail Duck.

King Eider Duck.

American Scoter.

White-Winged Scoter.

Surf Scoter.

Ruddy Duck.

Snow Goose.

Canada Goose.

Hutchins' Goose.

Brant Goose.

Black Brant Goose.

Whistling Swan.

American Bittern.

Least Bittern.

Snowy Heron.

Louisiana Heron.

Green Heron.

Black-Crowned Night Heron.

Yellow-Crowned Night Heron.

Sora Rail.

Florida Gallinule.

American Coot.

Northern Phalarope.

Knot.

Pectoral Sandpiper.

Least Sand piper.

Red-Backed Sandpiper.

Semipalmated Sand piper.

Sanderling.

Hudsonian Godwit.

Greater Yellow-Legs.

Bartramian Sandpiper.

Eskimo Curlew.

Black-Bellied Plover.

American Golden Plover.

Semipalmated Plover.

Piping Plover.

Turnstone.

Marsh Hawk.

Barn Owl.

Short-Eared Owl.

Saw-Whet Owl.

Snowy Owl.

Chuck-Will's-Widow.

Scissor-Tail Flycatcher.

Horned Lark.

American Raven.

Fish Crow.

Boat-Tailed Grackle.

Snow Bunting.

Ipswich Sparrow.

Savanna Sparrow.

Sharp-Tailed Finch.

Prothonotary Warbler.

Connecticut Warbler.