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 106 THE CONDOR Vol. XVIII The ext day I saw presumably the same bird coming up the beach toward a cottage, head erect and tail trailing, walking with the mincing gait of a woman with high heels-,a droll figure! As he went along he would stop, spread out his wings and flap them hard, again and again, as if to get out the water. Once when resting he stood oa one foot, his weight partly borne by his stiff tail, his head twisted around to rest on his well-filled pouch. When a man and a boy came along the lordly bird had no intention of making way, and the man shook his handkerchief at him. At this the affronted Cormorant flew off with an angry squawk and the man doubled up with laughter. An- other man, evidently ainused by the bird's assurance, clapped his hands to make him fly, and other people passed close by, looking at him curiously with- out disturbing him. But one morning as I walked along the beach, to my dismay and horror I came on the pitiful.body of a dead Cormorant, its 'bill tied up in bow knots! Could this have been done in ghastly mirth while he was still alive? tIad one of the most interesting characters of all the multitudes on the beach fallen victim to such barbarity ? An exhibition that I witnessed one Sunday made it seem possible. Scattered along in small groups down a mile of shore there must .have been from a hundred and fifty to two hundred Godwits, when a man and a boy in bathing suits came down the beach, the man sending the child to pick up stones for him and throwing them wantonly at each group of the beautiful birds as he came to it. iVfy lovely Godwits, which it seemed such a rare privilege to watch! With blood boiling I saw the pair go and come, for the man's face was so hard there seemed no appeal. Good training he was giving his child! The next morning one poor Godwit with dangling broken bill and another with a broken leg lying on the sand attested the prowess of man--his noble prowess! Before this the beautiful waterfowl had been so rarely tame along the beach that they would walk down the shore ahead of me, and every day spent among them was a day of new and rare delights, of intimate pleasures. But now the hunting season opened and each day brought new ravages in the wonderful flocks. Just as the season opened, while I was watching a delight- fully tame group containing thirty Godwits, two Willets, a Gull, and two Surf-birds, enjoying their familiarity and their interesting ways, a smart type of city boy appeared, and taking a gun out of a case prepared to shoot my friends. As he was still within city limits I stopped him temporarily by call- ing his attention to the fact, but I knew it was only a short respite and my only hope for the birds was their apparent recognition of a gun. Two other boys with guns and bags came along later, outside of city limits. At their first shot all but one Surf-bird flew, and at the second shot he fell, flopping distressingly. Before the boy could get him the waves washed. him out, out and in, their toy, a limp bundle of feathers; a moment before instinct with life and individuality, a dauntless child of the sea, with power of wing and intelligence to carry him from pole to pole. When the poor wounded bird was picked up its sufferings were prolonged cruelly by the boy's ignorance of the way to kill it. A Coot was found lying on the beach, doubtless dis- carded by some hunter who had no use for it--now half devoured by horrible creatures of death. In a few days the beach was like a Soldier's Home, the shooting being kept up from early morning out on the marshes. One day on going up above