sixty tons. Next day I purchased a copy of the bulletin giving the statistics. of Argentine imports and exports. I found that 34,206 kilos, over thirty-four tons of Rhea feathers had been exported during the first six months of the fiscal year. Later, while strolling through the zoological gardens of Buenos Aires, I came upon two splendid specimens of the Rhea insolently blocking my path, and I wanted to congratulate these fortunate individuals upon having escaped the general massacre.

The markets of Buenos Aires, at this season, were abundantly supplied with Solitary and Pectoral Sandpipers, and Greater and Lesser Yellow-legs. Tinamon of two species (N. maculosa and Colo persus elegansis) were offered by the barrel and basketful. In Asuncion, Paraguay, small birds, including Tanagers and Ovenbirds were occasionally on sale, plucked, though in small numbers.

Several months later I was spending a short time among the Portuguese planters on the Lower Madeira and Solimoens, where are found the impenetrable swamps interspersed with shallow lagoons. It was the beginning of the nesting season, and Herons were donning their fatal nuptial garments. An agent had visited the locality a short time before, offering to buy all aigrettes collected at three contos of reis (about $1,000) per kilo (about 2 lbs.). Judg

PORTUGUESE PLANTERS' HUT ON THE SOLIMOENS WHERE LARGE
NUMBERS OF EGRETS ARE KILLED
Photographed by L. E. Miller

ing by the numbers of the birds as I had seen them, and they were not extremely abundant here, I was calculating how many shots would be required to secure enough birds to produce two pounds of aigrettes, and if the high price of ammunition in Brazil would make it a profitable occupation for the natives. The birds seemed fairly safe. My swarthy Portuguese friend

for a time ventured no information beyond answering my questions. Then decided to admit me into his confidence; and the single word "veneno" spoke volumes.

About the time the Heron's plumage is at its best, the annual floods have begun to recede, leaving shallow lakes and marshes teeming with myriads of imprisoned fish. And as the drying-up process continues, the stranded fish die in heaps. I saw tons of them-dying, dead and decaying-in the pantanales on the Taquary. It was the season of harvest for the Jabiru, Heron, Vulture and opossum, and they were enjoying their periodical feast to the full.

It is the custom of the plume-hunter, I was told, to collect quantities of these fish, poison them, and then scatter them broadcast over the Heron's feeding-grounds. Occasionally, poisoned shrimp are used, if the inundations extend beyond the usual time. This method is of course cheaper than shooting: the birds are not frightened away, and the results of such relentless persecution must be obvious. A whole colony may be exterminated in its feedinggrounds, even if the rookery is impregnable.

I do not know to what extend this process of extermination is carried on. I have never seen it in operation, and had never heard of it elsewhere. But such, my informant assured me, are the methods employed on the Madeira and Solimoens.

A Letter from Abbott H. Thayer

EDITOR OF BIRD-LORE:

I send you herewith a letter from Professor Münsterberg.

Having long believed that our common birds are not widely diminishing, except in certain special cases where circumstances of civilization have ceased to sustain them at an artificial abundance (as in the case of Swifts and Barn Swallows), I asked Prof. Hugo Münsterberg, the Harvard Professor of Psychology, to corroborate my belief that circular question-lists sent about to gather the public opinion on this subject are dangerous and misleading, because of the very psychological reason that he gives in the accompanying letter.

His answer sent you herewith should influence all the local Audubon Societies who publish such dismal announcements. These Societies will swiftly diminish their own credit by such an unscientific position.

Let me here say that I go annually over my boyhood stamping-ground around Keene, N. H., a small city of ten thousand inhabitants, now about twice the size it was fifty years ago when I knew every foot of its surroundings. Every meadow has still its Meadowlarks and, close by the town, one of the principal meadows has still its Upland Plovers; although I do not, of course, class this species with the rest. Bobolinks are everywhere that they ever were; hundreds of them, young and old, crowd the fences, the grass, and the tops of the neighboring groves, when the year's generation is accomplished. Every wet place has its Redwings; the elms their Orioles and Grackles; the river its Spotted Sandpipers and Wood Ducks. Bluebirds are just now scarce hereabouts, but I saw three or four pairs last week in Keene, and, to my great joy, Nighthawks seem to be picking up. There, again, they build on the tops of the stores about the center of the town. It is true, I saw only one individual there, the other day, but it was the first for several years; we have seen four in all, hereabouts, this year. In this region Hermit Thrushes still seem less numerous than up to 1912, and in Dublin I have seen no Bluebirds this season; but, taking the whole region together, its bird fauna is, in my belief, unabated. Its Robins, Bobolinks, Catbirds, Kingbirds, Flickers, Orioles, Warblers, Swallows, Flycatchers, its three kinds of Vireo, its Meadowlarks, Spotted Sandpipers, and many other species, are all at their posts, and this, in my belief, is all there ever were. Of course, all species fluctuate, and the Hermits and Bluebirds will doubtless abound again.-A. H. THAYER, Monadnock, N. H., May 31, 1914.

Professor Münsterberg's Letter

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS, May 28, 1914. My dear Sir: You raise the interesting question of whether the testimony of those who claim that many species of bird are today less common than

formerly is reliable. I should say that such testimony underlies all the wellknown illusions which are today familiar to the psychologist through recent experimental studies concerning the value of evidence on the witness stand. The illusions of perception, of memory, of suggestion, of attention, play an important role there.

In this particular case, it may be taken as probable that, looking backward, the imagination exaggerates the pleasure received from such birds in the past in comparison with the present experience. If the feelings were different, if it were the question of dangerous birds, or of birds disliked for any other reason, the suggestive illusion would probably be the opposite. The observers would have the impression that there are more birds today than formerly, because displeasures of the past are easily underestimated as compared with present displeasures. I should not trust such impressionistic records at all. Very sincerely yours,

B

Why the Birds Are Decreasing

By ROLLA WARREN KIMSEY, Lathrop, Mo.

IRDS are a great deal like people. There is probably no bird, regardless of what its reputation for good may be, but that does some harm. Most of our best-known insect-destroyers are also great lovers of fruit; devouring large quantities of cherries, strawberries and grapes. I think, however, that, all things considered, the good done by the feathered folk is sufficient to credit them, as a class, as the friend of man. Then, if it is a fact that the birds are decreasing, it is time for something practical to be done for their protection.

The first thing I desire to set forth is that the breeding-places are being destroyed. I have in mind a certain territory where hawthorn, red thorn, wild plum and crab trees, wild rose-bushes and other small, thick bushes grew in profusion along the streams, fence-corners and roadside. These furnished an ideal nesting-place, and also protection, for the Catbird, Brown Thrasher and Mockingbird. Then there were miles of hedge-fence, so closely matted that it was almost impossible for one to locate or reach a nest within the thorns. In these places I have found dozens of nests in the course of an afternoon stroll. Now this land has been steadily advancing in value, and as a result, the brush and thickets have been cleared away, the hedge-fences uprooted, and along the roadside appears the neat wire fence. The birds that once found shelter and protection for their nest and young have been forced to build more in the open, or to leave the neighborhood for more desirable nesting-places. So, with less protection, a greater number of their young are being destroyed each year. I go over the same ground, and consider myself fortunate if I find three or four nests where in previous years I have found many, with little effort.

Around almost every farmhouse there are from six to fifteen half-fed cats. In the villages and cities there are hundreds of them, homeless, and living as it were by their wits. The birds, that love the friendship and companionship of man, build their nests in the great trees around the house, and in the old neglected orchard, which knows nothing about a pruning-hook or saw. In one of these old trees I have seen the nest of a Woodpecker in a decayed stub; up in a substantial fork, the nest of a Robin; and on a low, flat limb, a Dove over her eggs. But now the old orchard has given way to closely trimmed, business-like trees, in which a nest would have no more protection than out on the highway. I have stood in some yards and counted ten and twelve nests, without moving. Now it is about the yard and orchard that the cat gets in its most deadly work. It is impossible for young birds to stay in the trees when learning to fly; in fact, one will find them on the ground nearly as often as in the trees. And how often have I been reading in the shade, on some summer day, to be aroused by the cry of a fledgling Oriole or Robin, as it strug