tail. The same method should be followed when we return them to the nest, though this is in deeper shade, and will require two or three seconds' exposure. It may take some time to catch them when they are still, but it pays to be patient and not be content with a "soot and whitewash" effect in glaring sunlight.

Had the nest been up a tree, and accessible, we should have had to climb and work in the same general way as with the hawk's nest, using the tree apparatus to hold up the camera. First screw the bolt into the trunk or branch near the nest, then attach the camera to the padded end by means of the clamp, adjust and focus, and make the exposure. If the light is strong, we can use the thread release to take the returning parent. But these small birds are so quick in their movements that an instantaneous exposure is necessary. If the nest is out at the end of a branch where it cannot be reached, leave it and find another. For myself, I do not care to cut down nests and change their positions, nor do I advise it as a practice.

CATCHING THE WATER BIRDS

During the migrations, in regions where wildfowl and shore-birds are numerous, there is splendid sport in pursuit of these fine game-birds with the reflecting camera. Approach can be made by boat, by stalking, or from the umbrella tent hidden by the shore as a blind. Trips off shore in fishing vessels often afford fine opportunities for securing flight pictures, with the reflecting camera, of the restless ocean wanderers, such as petrels, shearwaters, jagers, or gulls. Throw out bits of fishliver, which floats, and often they will come up close to hand.

Vacation trips to some of the great resorts of bird-life are especially rewarding. Western lakes, both in nesting-time and in autumn, often teem with water-fowl. The southern coasts or swamps, in fall, winter and spring, give wonderful opportunities. Marvelous indeed are the great breeding colonies of water birds, especially those which are under the protection of the Audubon Society. In most states there are occasional heron colonies which are very interesting. The use of the umbrella tent in such places is well-nigh amazing in its results. Pitch it amid the colony, or on its outskirts, disguised with materials from the surroundings, leave it awhile for the birds to become accustomed to it. Then go to it with a companion, crawl in, and have him depart. In a short time you will be gazing in wonder at wary birds all about you, even within

reach. I never get over the wonder of it. Be careful to make no noise. Have only the lens show at the peek-hole, protruding through a small hole cut in the focuscloth, and work behind this cloth. Many birds, notably the herons, cannot bear the noisy curtain shutter of the reflecting camera, so one must depend generally on the ordinary long-focus one, set on the tripod.

People often ask me how I get such artistic pictures. Sometimes I am able to improve a picture by picking out an artistic bit from a negative and enlarging it somewhat. But ordinarily it is due more to the fact that Nature is artistic than to any conscious selection of mine. We must take the bird when and where we can get it. But, besides this, I am not content with one picture of a subject, or a species, but take them by the score. Among so many, some are pretty sure to prove of special excellence and interest.

This subject is big enough for a whole book, and I might go into almost endless further detail. But I have exhausted the space at my command, and if there is anything of helpful suggestion which has been omitted, it is not the fault of my good will. I only hope that the accounts of the pleasures which I have found in hunting with the camera, and my suggestions as to. how to undertake this splendid sport, may help to add to the large numbers of those who, like myself, have lost any satisfaction in killing, and with keen delight are learning to substitute the camera for the gun.

"Reckon he led 'em a long chase." He paused and then as an afterthought said with conviction: "But they'll get him."

Edwards nodded moodily and Jackson replied with a monosyllable.

Thirty-six hours had passed since Jerry Brown had shot Johnny Nelson, and Johnny's outfit had taken up the chase at daybreak, six hours later.

"Wish I could 'a' gone with 'em," Johnny growled. "I like to square my own accounts. But when I get well I'm going down to Harlan's an' clean house."

"That 'll be done as soon as yore friends come back," Jackson replied, selecting a dried apricot from a box on the counter and glancing at the marshal to see how he took it.

"That'll be done before then," Edwards said crisply, with the air of a man who has just settled a doubt. "They won't be back much before to-morrow if he headed for th' country I think he did. I'm going down to th' 'Oasis' and tell that gang to get out of town. They've been here too long now. I never had 'em dead to rights before, but I've got it on 'em this time. I'd 'a' sent 'em flying yesterday only I sort of hated to take a man's business away from him. But I've wrestled it all out, an' they've got to go." He buttoned his coat about him and pulled his sombrero more firmly on his head, starting for the door. "'!! be back soon," he said as he grasped the knob.

"You better wait till you get helpthere's too many down there for one man to handle," Jackson hastily remarked. "I'll go with you," he offered, looking for

his hat.

Edwards laughed shortly: "You stay here. I do my own work by myself," he said. "If I took help they'd reckon I was scared," and the door slammed shut behind him.

"He's all nerve," Jackson remarked. "It's his good luck that he wasn't killed long ago."

"They're a bunch of cowards," replied Johnny. "None of 'em wants to start things. Bunch of sheep!" he snorted. "Didn't Jerry shoot me through his coat pocket?"

"Yes, an' yore a lucky dog, too," Jackson responded, having in mind that at first Johnny had been thought to be desperately wounded. "Why, yore friends are worse off than you are out all day an' night in this cussed storm."

Edwards made his way through the cold rain to Harlan's saloon, alone and unafraid, pleased greatly by the order he would deliver. At last he had proof enough to work on, to satisfy his conscience, for the inevitable had come as the culmination of continued and clever defiance of law and order.

Harlan's crowd had lived without working during Edward's reign as marshal, and

while suspicion sometimes pointed strongly at them, there was lacking proof that they preyed on other men's herds. They had avoided his order concerning the wearing of guns while in town, and had managed to barely keep on the safe side of the danger line. But now he had what he wantedhe had seen Johnny Nelson shot in the "Oasis" by one of the crowd, by a man who was wanted for brand-blotting. It behooved them to seek new fields for their energies, and quickly.

He deliberately approached the front door of the "Oasis" and, opening it, stepped inside, his hands resting on his guns. His appearance caused a ripple of excitement to run around the room. After

what had taken place, a visit from him could mean only one thing-trouble. And it was entirely possible that he had others within call to help him out if necessary.

Harlan ceased wiping a glass and held the cloth suspended in one hand and the glass in the other: "Well?" he snapped, angrily, his eyes smoldering with fixed. hatred.

"Mebby it's well-but it's going to be a blamed sight better before sundown tonight," evenly replied the marshal. "I've just dropped in to tell you to get out of town before dark-pack yore wagon an' vamoose; an' take yore friends with you. If you don't-" he did not finish in words, for his tightening lips made them unnecessary.

"What?" yelled Harlan, red with anger. He placed his hands on the bar and leaned over it to give emphasis to his words: "Me pack up an' git! Me leave this shack! Who's going to pay me for it, hey? Me leave town! You drop out again an' go back to Kansas, where you come from— they're easier back there!"

"I ain't found nothing very craggy around here," retorted Edwards, closely watching the muttering crowd by the bar. "It takes more 'n a loud voice an' a pack of sneaking coyotes to send me looking for something easier. An' let me tell you this: You stay away from Kansas-they hangs people like you back there. That's whatever. You pack up an' git out of this town or I'll start a burying plot with you on yore own land."

The low, angry buzz of Harlan's friends and their savage, scowling faces would