On June 22 we set out to explore this. Preble, Billy, and myself,
with our canoe on a wagon, drove 6 miles back on the landing trail
and launched the canoe on the still water above Mountain Portage.
Pelican Island must be approached exactly right, in the comparatively
slow water above the rocky island, for 20 feet away on each side
is an irresistible current leading into a sure-death cataract. But
Billy was a river pilot and we made the point in safety.
Drifted like snow through the distant woods were the brooding birds,
but they arose before we were near and sailed splendidly overhead
in a sweeping, wide-fronted rank. As nearly as I could number them,
there were 120, but evidently some were elsewhere, as this would
not allow a pair to each nest.
We landed safely and found the nests scattered among the trees and
fallen timbers. One or two mother birds ran off on foot, but took
wing as soon as clear of the woods - none remained.
The nests numbered 77, and there was evidence of others long
abandoned. There were 163 eggs, not counting 5 rotten ones, lying
outside; nearly all had 2 eggs in the nest; 3 had 4; 5 had 3; 4 had
1.
