THE white ibis might well serve as the text of a symposium upon the evils of plume-hunting to supply the constant demand of the millinery trade. Suffice it to say here that this species, in common with many other members of its family, and many other birds as well, has decreased to the point of almost complete extermination within the last fifteen years from this cause alone. Surely it must be true that the living bird in its natural environment is far more pleasing to the Æsthetic sense than the few feathers which are retained and put to an unnatural use.

As lately as 1880 the white ibis was decidedly numerous in the various rookeries of the southern states, wandering as far north as the Ohio river, and touching southern Indiana and southern Illinois. Two were seen as far north as southern South Dakota. They are now scarcely common even in the most favored localities in Louisiana and Texas, being confined to the gulf states almost entirely, and even there greatly restricted locally.

Like many of their near relatives, the herons, the ibises not only roost together in rookeries, but they also nest in greater or less communities. Before their ranks were so painfully thinned by the plume-hunters, these nesting communities contained hundreds and even thousands of individuals. But now only small companies can be found in out-of-the-way places.

The nest is built upon the mangrove bushes or upon the broken reeds and rushes in the swamps, and is said to be rather more carefully and compactly built than are the herons' nests. The eggs are three or four, rarely five in number, and are laid about May 1 in many localities, later in others. They appear large for the bird. In shape they are usually rather long ovate, and in color are gray or ashy-blue, irregularly and rather heavily blotched and spotted with reddish and umber browns of various shades. Some specimens are very pretty.

The story of their great abundance, persecution, rapid decline, and almost death, if written, would read like some horrible nightmare. Confident in the apparent security of their ancestral gathering-places, they fell an easy prey to the avaricious plume-hunter who, from some vantage-point, used his almost noiseless light rifle or air-gun with deadly effect, tallying his victims by the hundred daily. We are sometimes led to wonder if there is anything so sacred as money.

We might be able to derive some comfort from the thinning ranks of many of our birds, perhaps, if we could be sure that when these were gone the work of extermination would cease. But when one species disappears another, less attractive before, will be set upon, and thus the crusade, once begun, will finally extend to each in turn. This is not theory but fact. Nor will the work of extermination cease with the demand for plumes. Not until repeated refusals of offered plumes have impressed upon the mind of the hunter the utter futility of further activity in this line will he seek some other occupation. It is a shame upon us that killing birds should ever have become an occupation of anyone. A strong public sentiment against feather adornments will yet save from destruction many of our native birds. Can we not arouse it?