FOR THE PEOPLE. POR £EDVCATION nOR SCIENCE LIBRARY OF . THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY AMONG THE WATER-FOWL a ' , nN me ' peeve ire org prcae I VOC Tp nee VF i : 1 ras fad) ’ Sa Pee eee OO Aig AMTRICAR MUSEUM | VORP HATORAL OTE TORY | WSAN SLI ONIHOV( c VW AGNV‘ISI MONG LVEAD LY ANOIOO GALOALOUd AHL NI TIND ONINUAH AMONG THE WATER. FOWL OBSERVATION, ADVENTURE, PHOTOGRAPHY. A POPULAR NARRA- TIVE ACCOUNT OF THE WATER-FOWL AS FOUND IN THE NORTHERN AND MIDDLE STATES AND LOWER CANADA, EAST OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS by HERBERT K. JOB PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY PHOTOGRAPHS FROM NATURE, MOSTLY BY THE AUTHOR Yay \l St 1) ea ft TA | cc NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. 1902 i) ok. an = ' * : ane Serie a0 ' = a if BEL PASTE AN A a! YAOTEIN JAAVIAE — 9 “a - 2 < Pe! "Yh. 08495, Macele b Copyright, 1902, by @ < ; Joun WANAMAKER f ~ Copyright, 1902, by La ‘ : 4 ; wy AMELICL.R MUELUM 4 OF RATURAU RIETCRY > TOPMYaIWiIKEy: WHO FIRST INVEIGLED ME INTO USING THE CAMERA THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED ; ty ee VM Pal MUBEUM TROT EME VROTCU AGATA 40 PREFACE Ir was the beautiful bird-pictures of Audubon that fascinated me as a child and made me love the birds and begin to watch them, such as could be found in the home garden in the suburbs of Boston. By the time that I was old enough to be trusted afield, the limits of the city became too narrow, and I began to roam abroad, seeking out the haunts of the birds. In due time I had formed a considerable acquaintance with all the familiar songsters, and many others. Soon I came to feel a special interest in the shyer and more mysterious species that the average youngster knew nothing of. ‘The Hawks and Owls were my especial delight, and to discover their nests no amount of effort was too great a price to pay. This enthusiasm soon took me to the sea-coast, where there were new worlds to conquer in the hordes of migratory Waders and strong-winged fowl of the deep, about which the books were all too silent. Audubon knew them best, but my other favourite writers seemed to have sadly neglected them. Samuels’ “ Birds of New England” I almost knew by heart, but many of my bird-favourites its author was evidently little acquainted with. Minot was intensely interesting, but he stopped short of the Water-Fowl. In pursuit of these inhabitants of shore and ocean, various were the craft that I owned and navi- Vil PREFACE gated, and many the narrow escapes. However, I am yet alive, and the Wild-Fowl have thought it best, in view of my persistency, to take me in some measure into their confidence and divulge to me some of their secrets. And now, after rounding out a full quarter-century of these pryings, on land and sea, I hope that I am not abusing the confidence of my wild friends in telling what they have taught me. The Robins and Chippies, with their kin, have been popularized in books innumerable; but why should not the great Nature-loving public find also interesting and instructive the lives and ways of the Water-Fowl? In time past these have been thought of largely as targets for the gun. Perhaps they will pardon me for laying bare their lives to scrutiny, as I protest to them, upon the first occa- sion of our future meeting, that I am trying to raise up friends for them, not foes. It will mark a new era in our civilization when the now persecuted Wild-Fowl can alight in the village pond and feed in peace, the object only of friendly admiration. As yet they are fearful of that new, mysterious Cyclops with its staring eye, the camera; but I hope they may learn to recognize in it a real friend, for in thousands of hands this is taking the place of the gun. Far be it from me to deny that there are legitimate uses for the dead bird. But owing to relentless, short-sighted slaughter, hitherto carried on, it is coming to be a question of birds or no birds. Every true sportsman will practise great moderation in the capture of game, and every thought- ful lover of wild life stand for its protection. Exer- cise afield and contact with Nature are invaluable, Vill PREFACE but require an incentive. If the destruction of life can be minimized by the finding of some satisfac- tory substitute for the gun, no one will be the loser. Such a substitute I myself have found in the camera, which fully satisfies my hunter’s instinct. Far more skill and resource are required to photo- graph a wild creature than to shoot it, and the pic- ture, when secured, is, ordinarily, of far greater value than a few mouthfuls of flesh. As I recall successful shots at fowl from the gunning-stand, I would give much to have the pictures now to en- thuse me, in exchange for fleeting memory. Would it not be wise policy to interest our boys in Nature- study, and the camera as applied to it, and discour- age shooting at living things? Real acquaintance with a harmless and beautiful wild creature, I can testify, makes one less and less disposed to take its life. Hence I would most cordially commend to my fellow sportsmen and bird-lovers this noble instru- ment. An expensive outfit is entirely unnecessary. In case my own experience may be of any encour- agement, let me say that all my pictures in this book were taken with an ordinary 4 by 5 focusing camera, rapid rectilinear lens, and bellows of 12 inches draw, that cost me less than $20. I consider the 4 by 5 size just right for field work. Equipped with such a camera and any good make of rapid plates, with a little careful study and practice of photographic method, following out some such plans afield as are described in this and other volumes, joined with real love for the birds and Nature, there is no reason why anyone may not succeed better 1X PREFACE than I have done. I only hope that my work may help extend the growing enthusiasm for Nature- study, and that the simple narrative of my personal observations, written without any assumption of technical learning, may interest many in my friends, the Water-Fowl. Though my experiences, as narrated, have been largely in the northern portions of the country, they characterize almost equally well the Water-Fowl of the middle districts, and the species mentioned, wherever found. Owing to exigencies of space, many of the illustrations are reduced in size from the original photographs; where there has been ap- preciable enlargement, the fact and degree are noted. Companions in the field and other friends have generously placed at my disposal even more of their pictures than could be used, supplying certain gaps in my material, and I wish herewith to express my grateful acknowledgments to Messrs. A. C. Bent, C252 Day;Owen Durfee; Rev -C. J... Young aye leeBaily oe W -Eleshisher da HA» Shaw: HERBERT K. Jos. Kent, Connecticut, March, 1902. LABILE OF (CONTENTS PART 1i.—THE SUBMERGED TENTH Grebes and Loons Among Colonies of the American Eared Grebe . The Great City of the Western Grebe Holboell’s, Horned and Pied-billed Grebes Grebes Breeding in the East ; their habits in autumn and winter Loons on Sea and Lake The Breeding-haunts of the Loons PART II.—MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS Gannets, Guillemots, Auks, Puffiins, Kittiwakes, etc. Glimpses of the Magdalen Islands The Bird Rocks Second Day on Great Bird Rock Third Day, and the Trip to North Bird Rock Last Observations on the Rock : Further Researches on Other Islands of the Magdalen Group Other Cliff-Dwellers Breeding on the Coast of Maine After the Breeding Season ; winter along the coast PART IIJ.—OCEAN WANDERERS Shearwaters, Jegers or Skuas, Petrels, Phalaropes Summer Ocean Birds off Cape Cod . Photographing the Ocean Wanderers xl PAGES I-14 15-27 27-33 33-39 39-43 43-49 50-52 53-64 64-73 73-80 81-83 83-86 86-90 g1-96 97-107 2 hO7—114; CONTENTS Jeger Days Among the Phalaropes The Nesting of the Ocean Wanderers; visits to the breeding- grounds of Leach’s Petrel . PART IV.—THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET Gulls and Terns Visits to Herring Gull Islands along the Atlantic Coast Tern Colonies and Habits in the East Other Gulls on the Eastern Coasts The ‘‘ Enchanted Isles,’’ North Dakota; colonies of Double- crested Cormorants, Ring-billed Gulls and Common Terns A Great Colony of the Franklin’s Rosy Gull; breeding and other PAGES ; PSS . 120-124 . 124-129 . 130-139 . 139-144 . 144-146 146-157 habits of the Black Tern; the American White Pelican . 157-169 PART V.—WILD FOWL OF WILD FOWL Ducks and Geese A Tour in North Dakota among Breeding Ducks and Geese —_._ 170-189 Breeding of the Later Ducks on the Return Trip . 189-196 Tree-nesting Ducks in North Dakota . 196-200 Subsequent Trip to North Dakota, and Further Discoveries . 201-206 The Breeding-Habits of Ducks in the East, from the Magdalen Islands to Southern New England : : Habits of the Wild-Fowl in Southern New England after the Nesting Season ; gunning-stands and the fowl that visit the ponds Sea-coast Fowl; habits, modes of capture, migrations xii . 206-213 . 213-218 . 218-22 LIsSf ‘OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Franklin’s Rosy Gulls in flight. Cover picture. Herring Gull approaching nest (x 2) Mounted Loons and Grebes American Eared Grebe Colony Other nests of the Eared Grebes ‘ Franklin’s Rosy Gull eating Eared Grebe’s Eggs Eared Grebe’s by their nests Nest of Western Grebe A Western Grebe-colony scene A Western Grebe A group of Eared Grebes (x 11) A Western Grebe (x2) Another Western Grebe (x 2) Still another Western Grebe (x 3) Nest of Holboell’s Grebe 5 Nest of Pied-billed Grebe, or Dabchick Covered nest of the Dabchick . Nest and young of Horned Grebe Nest and eggs of Horned Grebe Floating nest of Loon Nest of Loon on stony shore Site of preceding Loon’s nest . Nest of Loon out in lake Another view of preceding View of Great Bird Rock Murres and Kittiwakes from the crate The city of the birds : View of North Bird Rock from top of Great Bird Rock Xlil PAGE Frontispiece List OF ILLUSTRATIONS Another cliff view A group of Gannets Gannet and Murres incubating (x 2 ) Nesting-site of Razor-billed Auk Eggs of Murres as laid on ledge A Gannet colony A Puffin sitting for his portrait (x 4) Another Puffin portrait (x 4) Razor-billed Auks at close range (x 13) . Group of Murres, Puffins and Razor-billed Auk The Pillar, or Pinnacle, North Bird Rock Nest of Gannet, North Bird Rock An incubating Briinnich’s Murre Common Murres on their eggs (x 3) ; - Kittiwakes nesting (x 14) Gannets, Murres and Kittiwakes on the lower ledges The home of the Ocean Wanderers A pair of Greater Shearwaters Two Greater Shearwaters close to vessel The Greater Shearwaters, a hungry horde Wilson’s Petrels, or ‘“‘ Mother Carey’s Chicken’s ” Sooty and Greater Shearwaters Wing-study of Western Gull Western Gulls in Flight . Another study of Western Gulls Herring Gulls alighting on trees Nest of Herring Gull Slovenly nest of Common Tern Well-built nest of Common Tern Nest of Least Tern Nest of Ring-billed Gull . Nests of Double-crested Cormorants XIV PAGE List or ILLUSTRATIONS Ring-billed Gulls by their nests Ring-billed Gull incubating Ring-billed Gulls on Rocks Young Common Tern Common Tern coming to her eggs . The same Tern incubating Young Ring-billed Gull . Franklin’s Rosy Gull colony . Nest of Franklin’s Gull Pair of Franklin’s Gulls on their nest Scene in Franklin’s Gull colony Franklin’s Gull and chick Nest of Black Tern Typical Dakota slough Nest of Canvasback Nest of Canada Goose A Mallard drake Nest of Mallard drake Nest of Redhead Another view of Mallard drake Nesting-site of Canvasback Nest of Lesser Scaup Duck Nest of White-winged Scoter . A Scoter detained by her nest Nesting-site of American Golden-eye Golden-eye’s nest in stub Young Shovelers in their nest Nest of Ruddy Duck Nest of Redhead The same nest, showing surroundings Nest of Canvasback with egg of Ruddy Duck A Magdalen Islands’ morass where Ducks breed XV List or ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Nest of Dusky Duck ; ; . : ‘ : é . 208 Nest of Greater Scaup Duck ; ‘ : d : . \2eg Nest of Blue-winged Teal ; : ; : é . ne Another nest of Dusky Duck ; : , : d io nae Live Duck-decoys, from a gunning stand : : ; 21 REG Young Dusky Duck ‘ : : : : : : a) apa Xvi INDEX PAGE Auk, Little . : : : : . 95 Razor-billed 3 BS See SisensO, oh con 9276, G2, 93, 95 Badger ; : 5 ; : ‘ ; ; : ; I Baldpate , ‘ : ; : 17.7; 189; FQOy 193, 201, 215 Bittern, American : ; ‘ ; : : , 82, 166 Blue-bill, (See Scaup Duck ) Brant : : : : : ; : : 7) 2IO, 21S Buffalo ; : ; ; 4 : ; ; : ; I Bufflehead . : . : : : - 2ead, 230 Burgomaster, (See eines Gull) Canvasback . 173, 176, 177, 186-188, 191, 196, 202—206 215 Cod. : : : : ; : 94, 98 Coot, American . : : : . 2;,6; cae 166, ¥73, 177 Butter-billed : : : : : : : 2 6 228 Gray : : : : : 3 222 Skunk-head , : : : : 5 : et ees White-winged 222 Cormorant . : ; 5 : : : : : 5 “F332 Common . ‘ : é 83 Double-crested . 51, heed 86, gt, ae 150, F52,-"75,-193 Coyote : . : : : : : : : : I Crane, Sandhill . : s : : . : : cM ge Crossbill, White-winged . ; : ; : ; : 82 Crow ; 4 4 ; : : 5 : 87 Cuckoo, Black- billed 4 é : : ; ; 2 82 Dabchick, (See Pied-billed Cae) Dog-fish ; : 2 : : 3 . : 94 Dovekie, (See Little Auk) Duck ‘ i. Ey 2) 45-5. 305 7p D267 ee, 70-224 Black, (See Dusky) Dusky : : ; ; 207, 208, 212-213, 215, 223 Greater Scaup . ; ; : 177, 19%, 207, 209, 217 xvii INDEX PAGE Duck, Harlequin ; : : : , : : » (Sos Lesser Scaup . : 177, 189-193, 201-202, 206, 217 Long-tailed, (See Oldsquaw) Ring-necked Scaup . : : 186, 191, 201, 206, 207, Ruddy ; : : 177, I91, 194, 196, 202-206, 215 Scaup : ; 5 : : 208, 210, 225,022 Sea, (See American Hider) Sea Ducks Di 7 ee Eider, American . : : : 71, 1OT, 211, 218, 220m King : ; : ; : : : 3 in eS Flicker ; ; ‘ ; : ; ; 2 : 29. Gadwall ; ; . 177-178, 190, 192-193, 201-202, 206, 215 Gannet ; . 53, 55-60, 62-63, 65, 69, 70, 72-75, 77, 80, 92 Godwit, Great Marbled : : : , : : ae Golden-eye, American 185, 197—200, 206, 210, 218, 220-221, 22 Barrow’s : : . a ; on 2S Goosander, (See aes Mer samser) Goose ‘ : : : : : gi, 170, 217-218, 221 Canada : a eee 174-175, 178-180, 201, 214-215, Snowy ; 3 2 : d : j ‘ es jc Gopher : ; : : : ; : : i I Grackle, Bisel : F : j ; : : ‘ 29 Grebe : : : : ; : : . I-39, 166, 196 American Eared ; ; : 4—18, 21-22, 24, 28, 177 Holboell’s : : ; : 5 « 25 28-30; 35, 26 Horned s/s: : ; : ‘ < 30-35, 38-39, 177 Pied-billed : ; ; «$25 30-325 35=37, 17artag Western : : : : 5 : i 1727 ss Grouse, Pinnated : : : ‘ : ; I Guillemot, Black ‘ 5; 84 —90, 127, 134 Gull 65, 84, 92, 94, 100, I15—I17, 130, 135, 140, 144, 146, 162 Gull, Bonaparte’s ; : ; I15, 143-145, 163 Burgomaster, (See Gisueus) Franklin’s : F : 5 ; : 14, 157-126 Glaucus ‘ , ‘ : A 142, 144-145 Great Black- Baokell ; : 4 : 142, 144-145 Herring 5 ; 3 133— es 142, 144-145, 149 Laughing ; ; ; : ; , : 2 Tae XViil INDEX Gull, Minister, (See Great Black-backed) Ring-billed ; TAS—159), 162,077, 169, Lox Turkey, (See Great Black: backed) Western : : : : : : a Seta prado fed Haddock... : ; F é : 94, 98 Hag, or Haglet, (See Shearw aren) Hake : : : i : ‘ : 3 ; 94, 98 Hawk, Marsh : F : ‘ : : d : : 212 Red-tailed : 3 - ; . : : é 29 Sparrow : : : : : : : : 30 Heron, Night : : : : : : i LTOb Jack Rabbit ‘ : : : : A : , I Jaeger ; 5 : : ; IoI, 106, 115, 117-119 Long-tailed : : ; ; : ‘ ; eres Parasitic : : : : : 5 118-119 Pomarine, - : 100, I10, 118-119 Jiddy, or Jiddy-hawk, (see Janeen Kingbird. : é iow BSitbiwake 94.) be) § 5355.59; 65, 71-72, 75-775 79, 80, 94 Wark, Prairie Horned . : , : ‘ ‘ : : I Longspur_. : : : - . ; ; I Loon . 5 : ; : : : . : ; 39-49 Red-throated, or Pegging-awl . é : : 41-42 The, or Great, or Great Northern : : 2, 39-49 Mallard . 171%, 177-178, 181, 184-185, 191, ie 206, 208, 215 Martin, Purple. : ; ; , ; : 5 . 29 Meadowlark, Western 5 : : : ; : ; I Merganser, American - : ‘ : : : Wil 2nS Hooded . : d : , : 200, 206, 210, 218 Red-breasted .. : ; 207-208, 210, 219, 221, 223 Mink 5 - : F ‘ aM, Mother Carey’s Chickens (see Peel). Murre, 50, 53,552 59, 61; 62, 65,60, 72,7677, 30,190; 92) 94 Briinnich’s ; : z ; : 60, 65, 93, 95-96 Common . 2 . : - : ORs 795595 Ringedaw : : - : ; : : : 66 Muskrat : : ° , . ; ° - 24-25, 48 Noddy, (See Mune) pab.e Old-squaw Oriole Osprey Owl, Long-eared Parrot, Sea, (See Puffin ) Pelican, White Petrel Leach’s Stormy Wilson’s Phalarope Northern Red Wilson’s INDEX - LOL—TO2, Pigeon, Sea, (See Black Guillemot) Pintail Plover Golden Puffin Rail Raven, Northern Redhead Robin Sandpiper Spotted Sapsucker Scoter 177 LOG, oe, oe - 17%,-175-178, 189, 191-193; 206, 205 American, or Black Surf White-winged Sea Goose, (See Phalarope) Sea Hen, (See Jaeger) Shearwater Corey’s Greater Sooty — PAGE 206, 217, 219-221, 223 4 85 82 168-169 104-108, 110, 113, 12%) Ese 64, 72-73, 101-102, 104-106, 124-129 102 1OIl—102, FOS, ELA, aay 120-123 120-132 120, 122 120 84 124 - 51, 53; 59; 60, 66-68, 72, 81, 89- 91, 93, 95 5 A : : 166, 203 : . 84-87, 138 ; 196, 202-204, 206, 21) ams 4 120, 134 127 3} 206,237, 221/222 222-223 BE, 222-2202 » [89-195 208-202, 206, 217 99-103, 105-106, I10, 112-113, 117, F21 102-103 IOI—I02, 108-112, 115-116 99, 103, 108, 115-116 Shelldrake, or Breirale, or Shell- ancl: (See Merganser ) 7, 177; 163, 185, 19I—F92, 2e2, 206, 275 Shoveller, or Shoveler XX INDEX PAGE Skua, (See Jaeger) Sparrow ; : ; : : - - : ; : I Savanna . ° ° : : “ - A en Song : : ; - : . . - ; 30 White-throated ‘ . : : : : ‘ 30 Swallow, Barn : ; : : : - 29, 127-128 sine ; c : : - : . - - 29 Swan . : 5 : ; : : : : : : 168 Gea. =~. : 4 A ; : , ; 185, 206, 209 Blue-winged ; : L7ij E77 \LOO, LO2, Loh. 1OL,-200 Green-winged 172, 188, 191 Wer , : 65, 84, 108, ILI5—II7, 130, 135, 140, !44—145 Arctic : : : 5 : : ; . 139-142 Black : ; : : é : I, 161, 166-168 Common . : 140. 142, 153-156, 162, 189, 191, 208 Least : : : : ° - : : 143-144 Roseate . ; : ; . : : : aes: Wilson’s, (See Common) Ting-tang, (See Holboell’s Grebe) Turnstone. : : : : ° . . ° eo Yellowlegs . : : : ‘ : : : : » age Warbler, Mourning . ; ; 2 ; : : Z 30 Water Witch, (See Grebe) Whale, Fin-back . 2 ; ; ‘ : ‘ : i 98 Whale-bird (See Phalarope) : - : : : we ben Whistler, (See Golden-eye) Widgeon, American, (See Baldpate) Willet . ; ; : : : : : : ‘ 5 Aes Woodpecker, Downy. ‘ : : : : A ; 29 Wren, House 2 ‘ : A ° - : : : 29 ex AMONG THE WATER-FOWL Toe sSsUBMERGED TEN TE (Grebes and Loons) .|HE seventh day of a recent June found me, with a companion, driving over the sun-baked, fire-scorched prairie of North Dakota, within a few miles of the international boundary. For miles no settler’s shack had been sighted to break the solitude. No pioneer had yet overturned the sod and sown his wheat, or erected the ugly barbed wire fence. to, compel travel “on section lines.” “Not even a wagon-trail offered its suggestion of a better way. We were free to consult the compass, and lay our course, as though at sea, over the virgin prairie, that had remained just as the Buftalo had left it. Though the scenery was monotonous, there was a certain fascination in jogging along over this billowy grass in the crisp, stimulating air, with the frequent glimpses of birds and animal life. Ducks flew out from the little wet depressions. A covey of cock Pinnated Grouse whirred away from a weedy spot. Meadowlarks, Longspurs, Sparrows or Prairie Horned Larks were nearly always in sight, with Black Terns flitting about. At any time we were liable to see a Coyote slinking off in the distance, a Badger dozing by its hole, or to start a Jack- Rabbit and see it speed away oath surprising leaps. Gophers scurried to their burrows, and disappeared with that comical little whisk of the tail that always forces me to an inward smile. I MOIHOAVAG YO AAAAD AATIIA-duld HAAUD STIAOATOH LINGV “NOOT LVauao NOOT QULVOUHL-dada AUYNLVNWI ‘NOOT LVaaXD SAYNLVAAD AVINONIS AHL AO SNAOY AHL ONIMOHS—SddaeL) GNV SNOO7T G4LNNO] THE SUBMERGED LENTH We were driving from our camp on the wind- swept plain by Rush Lake to a small lake, or “slough,” some miles farther to the west, which a settler had told us swarmed with birds. At length it lay before us, a third of a mile of open water, with a large grassy island in the centre. Many Ducks, Coots and Grebes were in sight; but on the shore of the island were the most birds flock fairly darkening the area. Not being able to decide from that distance what they were, I resolved to wade out to them. Now Dakota “sloughs’’—as marshy ponds are there called, pronounced ‘“sloo”’—are generally quite shallow; but a few steps into this one made it evi- dent that boots here were of no avail. It was pretty cold to strip for the task, and the water felt like ice; but the prospect of getting out in the sun upon the shore of the island before coming back de- cided me in favour of the project and I started in. At every step difficulties increased. ‘The water be- came breast deep, and was filled from bottom to surface with decaying vegetation. After every half dozen steps I had to stop and clear myself from the great island that had collected about me. For fifteen minutes I struggled on, chilled, but intent upon reaching the sunny island shore, where I could don the garment I held up out of the water, and examine at my leisure the many nests which I expected to find. As I came to the edge of an area of long grass that had hidden from me what was beyond, a won- derful sight met my eyes. ‘The water seemed liter- ally alive with birds, swimming or floating upon its S a great AMONG THE WaTER-FOWL surface. Sprinkled about everywhere among them were what looked like little mounds. Upon nearly every mound sat a bird. As they saw me, some slid off into the water, while others industriously pecked at something. then it dawned upon me—TI had found a eedling colony of the American Eared Grebe. The anne: were nests, and the birds were covering their eggs, as is their custom, to hide them from the intruder. Soon I was right in the midst of the Grebe city. But such wet, fied uncomfortable homes they were, as contrasted with the warm, soft, downy beds that Ducks prepare, the substantial structure of the Robin, or the elaborately-woven pouch of the Oriole! I felt that I was in the slums of bird-dom. Here was the problem of the submerged class of their society. But who, after all, would be the happier should the Grebe ascend from the bottom round of the ladder of classification, and, forsaking his fish relations and his habits of submergence, make a cleaner nest ashore, and waddle awkwardly on dry land? At my approach the Grebes all left their nests, though in some cases the anxious owners lingered to cover their treasures until I was. almost upon them. This enabled me to watch carefully the whole process. The bird arose from a prostrate position upon the eggs, and assumed one more or less upright, squatting upon the rump, to one side of the eggs. Reaching over, she seized with the bill a piece of floating grass close at hand, and laid it across them. Pom intes she would at out quite a bunch at one haul. If possible, she kept at it 4 THe SUBMERGED TENTH until the eggs were entirely hidden, when she would slide off into the water with a push of the feet that gave quite a little momentum. Some of them dove at once and came up a short distance away, while others remained on the surface. The fact of my having only head and shoulders out of water evi- dently made them less afraid of me than they would have been had I been in a boat. The birds were more or less scattered about in the lake, yet groups of them remained within a few feet of me, appar- ently trying to make out what new species of Musk- rat this could be. I should judge that there must have been up- wards of a hundred nests right around me, and how many more there were off in the grass I cannot say. Certainly it was a large colony, for the whole slough seemed alive with Grebes, and all of the one species. The nests were floating quite close together, often touching one another. There was very little grass growing out of the water, and the nests were not anchored, except as they tested more or less on the floating deere This held them in a measure, but it seemed likely that a strong wind might drive them from their location. Most of the nests were covered, and I bobbed about among them, removing the coverings to see how many eggs there were. It was evident that the laying operations of the colony were not complete, for some of the nests were empty, or had but a single egg. Only two that: 1 saw had as many as five eggs, three or four being the usual number. These observations made, I stayed for nothing further; indeed haste was necessary, for my sunny 5 AMONG THE WaATER-FowL isle, whereon I had hoped to warm myself, proved to be a delusion; and I realized that submersion did not make me a Grebe, for I was already shud- dering with the cold. So, hurriedly placing a few sets of eggs in the creel that I had dragged out over the water, I reluctantly returned from my bird- slumland, and made for the shore, which I finally reached, shivering and shuddering, after being three- quarters of an hour in the icy water. Though it was an uncomfortable experience, I was more than repaid by what I had seen. .My one sorrow was that it was impracticable to use the camera. Rush Lake is an area some twelve miles long and four wide, with water only waist deep, out of which grows long grass and occasional patches of tall rushes. Years ago, it is said to have been entirely open, but now even an open lane is a rarity. A settler piloted us to it the first day. After walking a mile or more, he suddenly announced—* Well, here we are.” ‘“ But where is the lake,” I asked, looking perplexedly over the grassy plain? ‘This is it, right before you,” was the reply. My first feeling was of great disappointment, but as Ducks of all sorts began to fly out in squadrons along the margin, I was soon reassured. The day after the Grebe colony incident, I spent the morning alone near the west end of Rush Lake, if end, indeed, there was, my friend agreeing to drive the team up for me after dinner. In time, I waded out to quite an open lead of water, adjoining which many Coots had their nests in the grass. Over near the other side were fifty or more Eared Grebes swimming about, evidently another colony. 6 SLNAULNOO WaHL TVAONOO OL SS¥UD GVAd HLIM SUYANMO AHL AG GANAAOSD SODA HLIM LSAN V SI SGNQOW DONILVOTUA ATLLIIT ASHYHL AO HOVA ‘ANOIOO AGdUAD GAAYVA NVOINANVY AHL AO LUVd oe eS rh ter ome AMONG THE WaTER-FowL This time I was determined not to be thwarted. So, when my companion appeared, we drove back, hitched the bow of a canoe to the back of the wagon and, after dragging it more than a mile over eared wet ground, I managed to get aHoat in it with camera and all needed’ apparatus. As I came within sight of the Grebes, they sank like stones, a submerged company indeed, for I saw them no more, save for an occasional ead thrust momentarily out of the water to reconnoitre. One of them I saw swim under the boat, only a little way below the surface. It used wings and feet as oars, and was indeed fying through the water. But what of the nests? Not one could I find, though I explored the edges of the open water all around, and penetrated into the grass in every direction. No photographs of Gus colonies was it that season my lot to take. But the time came when this ambition was grati- fied. Late last June I was encamped, with three companions, upon the timbered shore of another large Dakota lake. One morning, we were poling a heavy boat, the only one available, through a maze of grass growing out of four feet of water, far out from shore. Another push, and we glided to a partial opening, where a wonderful sight greeted us. We had run with our boat almost into a large ‘colony .of ‘American Eared. Grebes; sur- prising the birds right upon their nests. Perhaps they had heard enough to arouse their suspicions, for they were in the act of covering their eggs. But no sooner did they see our heads over the grass than there was a general plunge, which sounded like the beating of a rain-squall as it first strikes a body of 8 THE SUBMERGED DENTH water. Every Grebe dove; but in a few moments we saw them emerge in large numbers out in the open water beyond. Here were the slums of a larger Grebe city than I had seen before, and this time I was in better con- dition to inspect it. ‘There were over a hundred of the little wet mounds close together in a compact area, and no knowing how many more further in through the grass. I did not like to push the boat in, as it would involve the overturning and destruc- tion of a great many nests, so was content with a somewhat superficial examination of the colony. The birds had been able in every case to cover their eggs before retreating. Pulling off the layer of wet debris from a number of the nearer nests, we found that the usual number of the eggs was three, the largest five. Other nests were empty, or with only one or two eggs. Then as we looked off, we saw, some distance away, hosts of other Grebes sitting or standing upon their floating nests, and realized that what we were inspecting was only the suburbs of the real city. Toward this we directed the boat. The Grebes, seeing us approach, slid off into the water while we were still at quite a distance, and in squadrons paddled out farther into the lake. Reaching the place, we found that a lane of water, “‘ Broadway,” I called it, divided the city into an east and west side. On the “east side,” along the edge of a tract of grass, the nests were crowded, four or five deep, for some distance. A mass of them, perhaps about thirty, extended in a sort of neck out into the open water. Conditions here, as might be expected, were 9 GaNAAOD SOOA AHL ‘ANO'IOON AMAUD GAAVA ANYVS AHL AO NOILOGUS YAHLONV O THE SUBMERGED [TENTH simply scandalous. Eggs lay rotting in the watery streets, in one spot as many as fifteen together, the result, probably, either of a storm or a squabble. Debris of all sorts was strewn around with utter in- difference to the public health. The houses were low, untidy affairs, reeking with water and decay, huddled together in hopeless confusion. So unstable is their foundation that quite a mass of them had drifted off in some storm, and were scattered about, overgrown with green scum, the eggs washed and bleached by the overlapping water. Conditions on the “west side’ were hardly better. The congestion was even worse. Nests in close contact formed a considerable area, extending in through the sparse grass to some more open water. It seems to me that the nests in these Grebe cities are smaller and more slovenly built than where a pair build a solitary nest. The wonder is how such flimsy affairs can keep the eggs and the in- cubating birds above water. The husband evi- dently has to lead a street life, with little to occupy him except to pick up food, and receive the youngsters, which hatch one by one, and swim off as soon as they are born. Perhaps he may antici- pate the mother’s task, and ride the little waits around on his back. When at last we retired with the boat, the Grebes swam back. Some resumed incubation, while others in parties promenaded up and down «‘ Broadway,”’ in some cases taking their children, that had been hiding away in the grass, out for a ride. It was an odd sight to see the crop of little heads sticking out from under the parent’s wing. 11 AMONG THE WATER-FOWL Before leaving, I found it easy to photograph these areas of nests from the boat by snap-shots, but a very different matter to have any of the Grebes in the pictures, as they were quite shy of the boat. Finding that they would not come near enough for a snap- shot, I stood up an old tripod, with a focus cloth over the top, in the grass a little back from the “east side,’ leaving it» for the: birds) to” become accustomed to the sight. Next day, the wind was raging, and my companions did not think I could carry out my plan of getting out there alone in the boat to spend the day by the colony. After a long, desperate effort I managed to reach it. The birds were mostly on their nests, ignoring the tripod. The pathway to success now seemed easy; but thorny did it prove. Moving the tripod a little nearer to the nests, I adjusted the camera, attached the spool of thread, and allowed the boat to drift off to leeward, paying out the line. So busy was I that I had not nenoed a gathering squall, that just at this untimely juncture struck down with furious blast. The shutter was sprung, and I had to lose the end of the thread, not being able to check the progress or the boat in time. As it was, the camera was nearly ‘pulled or blown over into the water. Nothing but the fact that I had spliced poles to the legs of the tripod and driven them firmly into the mud pre- vented what would have been to me out there in the wilderness an irreparable disaster. ‘Then ensued a mighty struggle to get back to the camera to pro- tect it from the rain. It was almost impossible for one person alone to push that clumsy boat through the tangle of grass and slime against the wind, but I 12 THe SUBMERGED TENTH finally accomplished it, pulled the precious instru- ment on board, covered it with the rubber cloth, and let the rain beat down. After the shower had passed, I proceeded to arrange the camera again. Learning wisdom by experience, I pushed the boat across to the opposite side of the area of grass where the distance of about the length of my thread—planted a pole firmly in the muddy bottom, tied the thread four, and then poled back to the camera with the other end of the thread, which I fastened to the shutter. In this way chee was less danger of pull- ing the thread prematurely, or of getting it en- tangled in the grass. ‘Then I rowed around to the pole by way of the open water, tied the boat to the pole, and lay down on the bottom, thread in hand, to await developments. After quite a while the Grebes began to swim back in small parties, and promenade up and down “ Broadway.’ ‘Two of them approached their nests, and climbed up awkwardly upon them. Their purpose was to cover their eggs more perfectly than in their haste they had done when the boat was approaching. As soon as this had been accom- plished, they slid off into the water and rejoined their companions. Unfortunately they were not quite in the range of the camera, so I lost a splendid chance for an interesting picture. I thought that in the course of things they would all go back, but time passed, and not another one did so. Finally I rowed over there and uncovered some of the eggs, hoping that this would induce the owners to come and cover them. AMONG THE WaATER-FOwL Though I did not succeed in this, the effort was not wholly in vain, for through it I learned the reason for this habit. This breeding colony of the Eared Grebes closely adjoined a far larger one of thousands of the Franklin’s Rosy Gull. Hardly ae (ae ae eee = bs aries z A FRANKLIN'S ROSY GULL EATING EGGS OF EARED GREBE, ON “ BAS® Sippee THE OWNER WATCHING. had I returned to my anchorage, when a Gull alit upon one of the nests which I had uncovered, and proceeded to pierce the eggs with its bill and devour the contents. I pulled the string and exposed a plate upon this interesting procedure. The picture 14 THE SUBMERGED TENTH shows the Gull with its bill thrust down into an egg, and a single Grebe in the water just beyond watching attentively what was probably the spolia- tion of its home. Perhaps it was fear of the camera that prevented the naturally expected attack upon the marauder. Another plate had then to be inserted, which I finally exposed when a party of Giches were swimming by, just in front of the nests. These were the: only two pictures secured in the greater part of a day of hard labour and nerve-w earing toil. After this the thread became almost hopelessly tangled, and, despite long, exasperating effort, I got only nee fogged plate at about sundown. And it was the last chance, too. ‘Then, as I was taking up the camera, at eight o’clock and after, it dawned upon me that I had forgotten to eat my dinner, though I had it with me in the boat. When I returned to camp almost at dark, the com- pany made merry over a fellow so much interested in birds that he needed a caretaker to remind him when he must eat. ‘A veritable rustic,’ perhaps the Grebes had been saying, staring all day, open- mouthed and absent-minded, at the sights of their great city. Within ten miles of this spot was another equally interesting, though very different Grebe-city. Extending far out from the shore, in water waist deep or more, grew a great area of canes, ten or twelve feet high. To get at it from where we had pitched our tent, I had first to wade across an arm 15 ‘MUOM S AVG aduvuH WV LSOO LVHL aWALOId V cam ath ga i ia lament 2 “SLSAN WITHL UVAN SAAAAYD agave CS 16 THE SUBMERGED TENTH of the lake, shoulder deep. Then, after walking a mile along the shore of the lake, clad in a suit of underwear for protection against an abounding poisonous water-plant, I forced my way in through the thicket of canes. About a hundred yards from the shore I entered the suburbs of the city in- habited by the Western Grebe—a great loon-like ONE OF THE MANY NESTS OF THE WESTERN GREBE creature, the largest species of the order—and the Eared Grebe. In the shadow of the tall canes I seemed to be in some sort of a submerged tropical forest. The leaves of the canes were thicker towards the top, while lower down the stems were bare, like miniature palm-trunks, through which one could see only for a few feet. In this shady retreat, floating between the stems, were the nests of the Grebes, on the average about two yards apart. 17 AMONG THE WATER-FowL As I slowly waded along, I could hear a constant succession of splashing, plunging sounds, as the birds dove from their nests to swim off under water. When I stood still for a few moments, they would return and suddenly emerge, sometimes within a yard of me, only to plunge again the instant they caught sight of the intruder. These grebe-homes, especially of the larger species, were quite substantial affairs. Even the little “‘Eared’’ fellows made better nests than in the other city where they were so huddled together. Possibly they were trying not to be outdone by the “Westerners,” or else the latter, who were in the majority, had enacted certain building regulations within the city limits! Yet, though the homes were larger, it was evident that they belonged to the lower classes of bird society. This city, like the other, was shamefully dirty. Eggs and even dead birds lay rotting in the water between the nests. The odour was so unpleasant as almost to nauseate our guide, who afterwards ventured in with me. As for myself, I was so much taken up with the novelty of the situation that the “ mind- cure”’ effectually performed its work. How far the city extended, and what was its population, I made no great effort to ascertain, as even a moderate degree of progress was very dif- ficult. Wherever I went there were nests, acres and acres of them. In parts of the town the larger species dwelt alone; in others the nests of the two kinds were intermingled in about equal numbers. Three eggs was the usual complement in the nests of both species, often four, but more than that I did 18 ATNAGGNAS ba SVH Saqauo AHL UALVM AHL WOkd AaADAANA HO ANO “ANOTOO aqdaquD NUYALSaM AHL NI ANAOS TVOIGAL 19 See % S41) a. Ma a 4 et Peli PARK A GREBE IN A WESTERN 20 THe SUBMERGED TENTH not discover, except where a Grebe of either kind had laid in a nest of the other. It would be inter- esting to know what is the state of mind that causes various species of birds that colonize together to lay in each other’s nests. It may be through mistake, yet, as in the present case, w ‘hen the eggs of one kind are twice the size of the other, it seems as though the bird would detect the difference. I can imagine, on the other hand, that the little Grebe might find the larger nest attractive, but not so readily what the bie Grebe thinks as it finds the smaller home ehick it has usurped about sinking under its weight. Wiiers were so street-signs im the city;.and, though city bred, I found myself rustic enough to be in danger of getting lost in the colymbine (Colymbus) labyrinths. As luck would have it, the usual daily June thunder-shower (of this season) came up before I was half through my exploration. Covering the camera and plates with the rubber cloth, my upper half was soon as wet as the rest. For a considerable time the sun was obscured. There was no way of looking over the tops of the canes to note the direction of the shore, and I might have wandered about there indefinitely, had not the welcome sun again shone forth. Next time I brought a compass, and felt more secure. Here and there in this. city were pond-like openings in the canes, with open water, the city parks, I called them—breathing-places for the Grebe-multitudes. Standing in water waist-deep or more by one of these, I shivered and watched the ways of the Grebes. This opening was some thirty 21 =< “NOW AND THEN A SMALL GROUP OF THE EARED GREBES WOUDDN 8... PADDLE ACROSS THE OPENING 22 jea} jac) ica} 4 es) Zz m4 aa & n ea = < AMONG THE WaTER-FowL feet in diameter, and was surrounded by nests in the adjacent canes. ‘The owners had been frightened away, but, as I stood quietly, they would emerge from the open water as a convenient place for more extended observation, take a look at me, and then dive. I found that by standing back a little in the canes they did not notice me so much, and, some- what reassured, would promenade across the park, back and forth. Now and then, a small group of the Eared Grebes would swim out from the reeds, gaze around, and paddle across the opening. One of these Grebes brought out a chick for a ride. The little one was under the parent’s wing, only its head sticking out, seemingly having a fine time. Then one of the great Western Grebes would break water, and swim with only its long slender white neck out, and the merest suggestion of a back, look- ing more like a water-snake thana bird. Here was an opportunity for Grebe-photography which I eagerly improved. Planting the tripod at the edge of the canes, I arranged the camera, using the ampliscope lens to secure a larger image, and focused on the further side of the park, where most of the Grebes appeared. Then, with a thread attached to the shutter, I retired a few paces, and took snaps at various Grebes of both sorts, till gathering clouds compelled me to desist. I had been wondering what was the cause of the evident destruction of life in the Grebe-city. As I stood there motionless in the canes, a partial solu- tion was suggested. A nest of the Western Grebe with one egg lay almost within arm’s reach. Sud- denly a large Muskrat emerged close by, and 24 ANOTHER WESTERN GREBE joo) a) 4 PA [oa n S = STILL ANOTHER THe SUBMERGED TENTH crawled out upon the nest. First he glanced around, and though looking right at me, did not seem either to perceive or to care—I could not tell which. Next he smelled the egg all over, poking it with his nose. I thought I would now catch him red- handed. But either the animal was looking for something else, or scented danger, for directly he ambled down to the water’s ice and plunged. Muskrat houses were numerous, and it is ieee not to suspect the occupants of enjoying something more than a vegetable diet. If guilty, however, Minks may also have a share in shedding Grebe-blood. By this time I was chilled and shivering, began the retreat, and, after two hours and a half of exposure, was glad to set foot on dry land. The Grebes had a splendid city, no doubt, according to their ideas, but I did not envy them at all their happy, slovenly ways, or their wet civic prosperity. Another interesting jaunt was into the Turtle Mountain country, the wooded area of Dakota, some two thousand square miles of low, rolling, rocky hills, covered with a growth largely of poplar. Every hollow between these hills is occu- pied by a lake, varying in size from “ Fish Lake ”’ in the interior, a number of miles in length, down to little ponds of a few acres. They are entirely different from the marshy, shallow prairie lakes, or sloughs, being clear and deep, with pebbly bottoms, though there are a very few that resemble the sloughs. The woods grow nearly or quite to the water's edge, and there is a border of round- 27 AMONG THE WATER-FOWL stemmed reeds for a few yards out. ‘They are much like the typical New England pond, and, like them, have—comparatively __few water-fowl. There are some, however, and one of the most characteristic I found to be the large Holboell’s Grebe, the only Grebe, in fact, that I saw in the region. I met them only in solitary pairs, nesting in the outer edge of the reeds on the shores of the ponds. One of the first’ Deeds that I noticed as we drove in from the prairie was one of these Grebes swim- ming in a small pond near some reedy clumps Niext dag a walked back there. The bird was on guard, and its mate swam out from the reeds at my approach. There was the nest amid the reeds in about three feet of water, a large floating pile of wet, decayed stems. ‘The five dirty white eggs, as large again as those of the Eared Grebe, were covered. With some drift-wood I managed to arrange a stand- ing place, from which I photographed the nest. Usually but one pair was found in a small pond, and when, in the larger ones, there were several, 25 NEST OF HOLBOELL’S GREBE THE SUBMERGED TENTH no two nests were very near together. The habit of the birds on these clear lakes of patrolling near the nest renders this very easy to find. I liked to stand still, nearly hidden in the reeds, and see the graceful lovers, close together, glide in so near to me that I could note every detail of plumage and motion. The red patches on the sides of the neck fairly glowed in the sun, as though they might easily do the same at night of their own radiance. During my stay in the Turtle Mountains, I found several nests of the Holboell’s Grebe. One was of more than ordinary interest. I saw the bird swim out from the reeds, as usual, and right there was the nest, with three eggs and the two segments of the shell of a hatched egg. The youthful occu- pant had evidently just emerged, and ‘there it was in the water, trying to follow its mother. I waded farther out, and the little fellow, either in confu- sion, or seeking a friend, swam back to me, looking up into my face. I picked it up, a curious tiger- striped thing, so oes and slim that it reminded me of a weasel. Then I replaced it in the nest, but at the first opportunity it scrambled out, and dis- appeared among the reeds. In two of Hie eges I could hear the young chirping. I went back to camp for dinner, and then re- turned to the Grebes’ nest. On the way I investi- gated the home of some Purple Martins in a Flickers’ hole, well up a tall, slippery poplar stub, finding, after a hard struggle, that the nest contained five eggs. This species, Barn and Tree Swallows, Bronzed Grackles, Flickers, Downy Woodpeckers, Sapsuckers, House Wrens. and Red-tailed Hawks I 29 AMONG THE WaATER-FOWL found to be the common species of the poplar growth, with a few Sparrow Hawks, Song and White- Hivcated Sparrows, Mourning Warbler and doubtless other small birds, sprinkled in. No more of the Grebes’ eggs, I found, had hatched, but the loose egg-shells were gone, as was the youngster. One of the shells I found about ten yards from the nest, floating among the reeds, whither the old bird, no. -dowsr had carried it. This- large Grebe seems not very common in Dakota, though I met it sparingly in the larger fresh water lakes. But everywhere in the prairie sloughs NEST OF PIED-BILLED GREBE, NORTH DAKOTA one meets the familiar Pied-billed and Horned Grebes, as well as the Eared. I did not find these first two in colonies, but each pair nesting by itself, usually well out in the deepest water. One day I was exploring a large slough in a boat that I had carted miles for the pur- pose, when I came upon a small Grebes’ nest with one egg, out in nearly open water, anchored to a few stems of grass. Quite near it was a Horned Grebe that probably was the owner. The wind was violent, and the waves were breaking over the nest all the time. Probably other eggs had been 30 THE SUBMERGED TENTH washed out, for it was late in the nesting season— nearly the last of June. This must be a very com- mon occurrence, for the Grebe will not learn wisdom. Yet even though the creature itself be submerged, it is hardly to be supposed that sub- merged eggs will hatch, or that the deluge here in ANOTHER PIED-BILLED GREBE’S NEST WITHIN A FEW RODS OF PRE= CEDING, CONTAINING NINE EGGS, AS COVERED BY THE OWNER. BY A. Co BENT progress was altogether pleasing to the otherwise contented “ Water-witch,” unless for the fact that the surviving egg was much cleaner than usual. It is no easy matter to identify scattered single nests of the smaller Grebes. Seldom, except in colonies, have I been able to see a Grebe actually on the nest. A very common and well-known I Noo AMONG THE WaTER-FowL habit of theirs is, on warm days, to cover the eggs with wet debris, and leave them for the sun, and the heat generated by the decaying vegetation, to act upon. And it is remarkable how generally they hatch. But it is not true of any species that they never incubate on warm days. In one instance I saw a Horned Grebe on its nest in early afternoon. Many a time I have come upon single nests whose eggs were uncovered and very warm. ‘There is almost invariably, in such cases, a protecting screen of rushes, and the bird evidently has just slipped off | before being seen. However, in one way or other, the owner of the nest is almost sure to be out of sight when the observer approaches. Sometimes the three smaller kinds all nest intermingled in one slough, and then the confusion is nearly hopeless. The only way to identify them is to hide some distance away and watch. After a time one or both owners may appear, and, by patrolling near the nest, show their interest and decide the ownership. If the number of eggs is large, they are quite apt to belong to the Dabeniee, as they probably do anyhow, if the locality is in the eastern United States. Still, I have known the Horned Grebe to lay as many as seven. Last summer I was in a slough where the Dabchick abounded, and I found the largest Grebe-set in my experience—of nine eggs. Five or six seems to be the usual number for that species to lay, four or five for the Horned, and three or four for the others. The time was when I supposed that Grebes were very silent creatures. But camping by a little 32 THe SUBMERGED TENTH open lake which was frequented by a pair of Horned Grebes, I was able to trace to their author- ship certain loud cries of whose origin I had been uncertain. The sounds began as a quick chatter, ending with several prolonged notes that I can only Wesenibc pas yells. ‘hey. seemed to keep. up this noise all night, for I often lay awake listening to it, not disturbed, but thoroughly enjoying it, thinking how fortunate I was to be living in such good com- pany! By day, when the water was calm, I could see flocks of Grebes out on the larger lake near by, and hear from them the same or similar quaverings. First one would cry out, then another would take up the strain, and still others, until there was noise enough for the most ardent lover of bird-choruses. june Hoy less; peculiar are the scries) of the ebie Western Grebe, which I heard on all sides as I waded about through their colony in the canes. _They are utterly different from the notes just de- scribed—a shrill, grating trill, not nearly so loud, with a ee caltie Guality, all in one key, like an <‘ anvil chorus,” or even the tinkle of a small alarm clock. My experiences with Grebes in the East have been of a very different order from those of the prairie sloughs of the West. Here I have known them largely as migrants, or winterers on our bleak coast. The exception to this was a delightful sojourn among the Horned Grebes in their summer haunts on the Magdalen Islands, in the ponds near “East Point’? which Audubon refers to in his 33 Ra ASO10 ISAN AWOH WIGHL aM LOAd :waLVM wWaAGdNN ‘qaHovouddvV aM qAAAAY MAHLON AHL ‘“SaNV1ISI Pe. AAO ONINWIMS AONV sv WHHL aquddoud Ld ‘yovd UaH NO WAHL NaATVADVN—LSAN NI WAHL aqaovT1dad INV Ww ONIAIG Ad ONILVOTI * Fine qHL LHOAVI ATIVNId advosad OL aaqiuL AGHL HLIM ONINWIAS SVM aAUL NI ONNOA aqadiuls OML Fa THE SUBMERGED TENTH Journals. Here they were the only Grebe, and nested abundantly, one pair to each of the little ponds, and several each to the larger ones, building Hoating nests ‘out “in the reeds, as usual: ©The Dabchick also nests in the Kast—from New England northward. It rarely, however, remains as far south as Massachusetts or Connecticut, so I have had to await its advent in September to our retired ponds. NEST OF HORNED GREBE, MAGDALEN ISLANDS By October, the Horned Grebe. looking utterly unlike the fine fellow of the sloughs—as is the case with the other Grebes as well—appears in the larger lakes and on the coast, followed by the larger Holboell’s Grebe. But none of them are more picturesque to me than the little brown Dabchick. I associate it with a lonely pond, in the crisp air of October, surrounded by forests made gorgeous by 35 AMONG THE WaATER-FOwWL the touch of the frost. There near the shore the curious creature glides about among the lily-pads, dabbling in the water, and gathering food as it goes. Then it pauses, and rests quietly on the glassy surface, glancing around to see if all is~well Suddenly, with a quick plunge, it is out of sight, and after about a minute rises not far away. ‘Then it will lie over on its side and preen its feathers, the light glancing resplendent from its white, silky under parts. ‘he Dabehick, .as* are» other ~Grebes, siseee masterly diver, skilled in eluding the shots of the hunter. Other birds might well aspire to unite their fortunes with those of “ the submerged tenth,” could they thereby secure that immunity from harm that the power of diving would make their lot. As a boy, when I at last captured a Dabchick for my cabinet, I felt like a veritable hero. It is laughable to me now how one day I stood on the shore of a pond near Boston and fired a whole pocketful of cartridges at an inoffensive Grebe a few yards away, without—I am now glad to say—harming it in the least. It would rest quietly on the water, all alert, never turning, even for an instant, its bright eyes from me. The moment I pulled the trigger it would plunge quick as thought, reappearing in a tew seconds, I could imagine, with a mocking smile, ready to try again. It seemed to find more sport in the affair than the excited hunter. Nowadays I am plotting, not to destroy the innocent things, but to trick them to pose before the camera. I thoroughly enjoy cruising about in a sail-boat on a bright day with a good breeze in late fall on 30 THe SUBMERGED TENTH beautiful Assowompsett, in the largest lake in Massachusetts. Nearly always I can find the Horned Grebe, often the Dabchick, and occasion- ally the larger species, though the latter here pre- fers salt water. The Grebes usually migrate in flocks, unless it be the Dabchick, but on alighting in a lake they scatter about searching for food. So, as I run out on the first tack, I am apt soon to see a solitary Grebe of some sort, paddling about. Pretending not to see it, I work the boat well to windward, and then, with extended sail, which serves to hide me, bound along at a rapid rate, almost directly toward the bird. The approach is so sudden that the Water-witch seems for the moment to lose its self-possession, and swims first one way and then the other. And now we are so close that the Grebe in fright feels that it must do something, so it does what is most natural, dives. Instantly I luff the boat, and as likely as not the | bird will soon emerge almost alongside, thinking to have come up far behind the moving boat. Hardly are its eyes above water than it sees me, and dives again so quickly that often I only hear the splash and see the swirl of the water where it went down. This time it will swim a long way, raising only its bill now and then above the water for a breath of air, so I run the boat off before the wind in search of another bird. If it is quite windy, the Grebe can sometimes be made to fly. The start is a very entertaining affair. Having very small wings, it is hard for it to get out of the water, though, when once started, it flies easily and swiftly, with rapid beats of the Bs, AMONG THE WaTER-FowL wings. At first the poor thing goes pattering and fluttering along the surface, often to fall in again, exhausted by the effort. In this case, after a brief rest, swimming a little for a start, it may try again, or else give up and dive. It is especially hard for it to rise from rough water, with breaking chop. One mid-winter day off Chatham, Mass., with an easterly wind and breaking sea that apaeen the fish- ing sloop onward, we puecbauled a Horned Grebe that made desperate efforts to fly. Rising, as do all water-towl, toward the wind, it would almost get under way when a breaking surge would insultingly slap it in the face, and knock it back into the water. One large wave fairly flung it backward, making the poor thing fall all in a heap. With great persistency it tried five or six times, when the boat had come so close that imminent danger compelled it to abandon the fruitless attempt and dive. Some few of the Horned Grebes, and more of the Holboell’s, remain all winter on the New England coast, and in the spring visit the ponds again, the larger kind as soon as the ice is gone, in March. Both of these follow the coast-line in autumn in flocks, at the same time as the migratory ducks. The first time I ever anchored in a “ coot- ing line ’—off Scituate it was—I soon saw to the north a rapidly approaching file of small, white- winged fowl. As they passed close to my boat at the rate of over a mile a minute, I sent two shots singing after them. One bird left the line, and went ricochetting over the water for many a rod. Rowing from the mooring to pick it up, I was 38 THe SUBMERGED TENTH surprised to find that I had secured, not a Duck, but a Horned Grebe. This was my first successful wing-shot from a boat, and no wonder I remem- ber it. More often, under similar circumstances, it has been the large fellow—‘ Ting-tang,” as the gunners name it—that I have observed. A mental picture such as the above inevitably acedtoons’ in (it, as a natural part:.of the scene: Though Grebes and Loons may not actually flock together, they have enough in common to make it proper to class them alike with “the submerged tenth; and as my thought turns toward Loons, my personal acquaintance with them for over twenty years unfolds itself in picturesque panorama, in two main lines of association. One has to do with wooded lakes, and a great bird floating well out on the glassy surface, or exhibiting its marvellous powers of swimming and diving; the other brings up pictures of the sea. In one of these it is late autumn. I am lying flat on my face, peering over a ridge of sand, on the Massa chute: shore Just below “Indian Hill,’ and watching a great Loon floating just off the beach, not twenty yards away, utterly unconscious of my presence. In another it is early winter, and I am strolling along the blufts of Scituate. A number of Loons, with Ducks of several sorts, are fishing out at the beginning of a line of heavy breakers. A big comber is advanc- ing. Surely it will overwhelm that Loon that floats quietly there in its course, facing approaching danger. Just as the wall of water reaches the bird, 39 AMONG THE WATER-FowL the crest curls, and the avalanche descends. But that very instant the wary creature leaps at the intruder. ‘The knife-like bill cleaves a way, and in a moment there rides the Loon safe on the other side. Flere: is-yet another picture. Whe coldjigeay, dawn of a November morning breaks over the misty, heaving sea. My boat is anchored quarter of a mile from shore. Very dim, as yet, appear the bluffs of Manomet, and below them the rocks, piled there by the Titanic forces of the winters’ gales. From the north comes the bellow of the whistling- buoy “of ““the Gurnet, at the entrance songem Plymouth harbour. The fishermen, one by one, are rowing out past in their dories to haul their lobster-pots and to fish for cod, every hail of theirs made audible by the megaphone of the mist. The gunners, too, are taking their station in the line that custom decrees shall begin at “the gunning- rock,’ and the plunge of anchors and the rattling of chains is heard. Presently the whistling of wings makes me look up, to see gray forms that rapidly pass, into: the haze. Soon) there: arises a series of wild, laughter-like cries, weird sounds indeed, yet fitting perfectly with the surroundings. Nearer they come, and nearer, but it seems like minutes before I see one, two, three great birds, with long necks widely outstretched, and feet extended rudder- like behind, rapidly advancing, a hundred feet above the water, straight toward the boat. If they come on, they are safe, for I have no desire to hurt them. But if they swerve and cross the line at another point, the peal of guns will ring out, and 40 THe SUBMERGED TENTH one, at least, of the Loons will cease its flight and fall to the water with tremendous force, while the survivors keep steadily on their way. Lying there in the stern of the dory, tossed by the waves, and not over warm, it must be confessed, for hours I watch the Loons and other fowl come and go. Sometimes it is the big fellow, the Great Northern Loon, but rather oftener the smaller Red- throated species—whose throat, however, has now lost all trace of its summer redness. The shoe- maker gunners have nicknamed it ‘the Pegging-awl Loon,’ from its slender, sharp bill. Though smaller than the great Loon, it is still a big bird. The former can laugh loud enough in its summer home on the lakes, but in the autumn flight, at any rate, I think it is outdone by the “ Pegging-awl.”’ The latter goes farther to the north to breed than its relative, and if it is correspondingly noisy, the Arctic solitudes where it is found must be far from silent. If this be a fairly good flight-day, Loons will probably pass within sight every ten minutes at least. Sometimes from three to six will follow one another some rods apart, at irregular intervals. Just as often they travel singly. If there is any difference in the general habits of the two kinds, I think that the “ Pegging-awl”’ is the more apt to go in parties. If, too, he is the greater talker, we may award him the palm for sociability. But that they are both good company, I can testify. In the calm of the early morning very likely . there will be one or two large Loons riding over the swells, diving now and then after their finny 41 AMONG THE WaATER-FOWL breakfast. Like as not some greenhorn gunner will row after them; but I never saw a Loon thus caught. It may let him approach nearly within gunshot, when it will quietly sink out of sight, and after some moments rise quite a distance off. After a few repetitions of this it will dive, to be seen no more. If there is a strong wind, and the sea or lake is rough, I have found it not so dithcult to approach them, especially in a sail-boat. Well do I re- member, sailing in a catboat on Lake Assowompsett one cloudy, blustering November day when the chop was considerable, how we suddenly almost ran down a Red-throated Loon. The bird was so startled that it lost its presence of mind, and, instead of diving, flew. The boat was going directly before the wind, so the Loon had to rise directly toward the boat, almost striking the sail, and going so low over the deck that the possibility was suggested of seizing one of the dangling legs. Usually, though, a Loon can seldom be forced to fly, even when it has very limited space for diving. Here is a typical instance to the point. One perfectly calm day in October a friend and myself noticed a large Loon out on Lake Nippe- nickett, and we decided to give it a chase, and see how it would act. We soon found that its main plan was to keep out in the widest part of the lake and avoid being driven in to the shore. It varied _its tactics, too, apparently with the direct intention of deceiving us. Sometimes, after diving, it would emerge straight beyond us, sometimes off to one A2 THE SUBMERGED TENTH side, or even behind us, having swum toward us and gone under the boat. Once, when we suc- ceeded in driving it into a cove, finding itself close to shore, it turned, and, swimming under us, was out in the open water again, ready for FLOATING NEST OF GREAT LOON, NEAR SHORE OF POND, MAINE. BY A.-€. BENT another chase. Sagacious bird !_who ever invented that phrase, “crazy as a loon?’ The only excuse is that the bird’s notes resemble wild laughter. The small Loon is not known to nest in the United States, but in many places along our northern border the larger one makes its summer home on the wild lakes. In northern New 43 AMONG: THE WATER-FOowWL England it is common. and now and then it breeds as far south as Massachusetts. Sailing about in Buzzards Bay early one July, I passed a Loon along the Falmouth shore, that was swimming with a half-grown young one close beside her. She tae very fond of it, and kept caressing it with her bill with true cecal tenderness. Far was it from my thought to disturb them, and our sloop sped on. Of all the places where I have observed the great’ Loon: in its haunts, give me) the Wurtle Mountains of North Dalen: On those frosty nights of middle June, as we lay under our light cotton tent, snuggled up in heavy blankets, often when I was awake I could hear that wild, laughter like cry—* ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-a-a’’—as the Loons Hew over from one lake to another. Our camp was near Gordon Lake, a fine body of water several miles around, with stony shores and a_ border of reeds. Out on its surface were always a number of Loons, and over on the west side several seemed to be patrolling parts of the shore. Walking entirely around the lake, I vainly searched the whole margin for nests. I had reason to believe that the young were hatched, and, as there were no muskrat houses or floating mounds that I could discover, it is likely that the eggs were laid on the bare shore, so that no nest was then in evidence. In one place I surmised that the young were hidden among the reeds. ‘There the parents gave me a most interesting spectacle. The pair were patrolling, rather anxiously, about a gunshot off shore. Knowing of the curiosity of the Loon, I 44 THE SUBMERGED TENTH kept low in the reeds, and now and then waved my handkerchief above them. The Loons at once began to watch, and then gradually to swim in, until they were within twenty yards of me. They swam back and forth in front of me, keeping close together, their snowy breasts and steel-blue necks ANOTHER NEST OF THE GREAT LOON ON DRY STONY SHORE OF SMALL ISLAND IN LAKE—MAINE. BY A. C. BENT reflected upon the mirror-surface, just beyond the reflection of the reeds and of the poplar forest. It was one of the memorable bird-sights of my life. Anxious as I was to see the nest of the Loon, the account given by a settler of a small lake two miles beyond the camp, where a pair of Loons were always to be seen, aroused my enthusiasm. The next day, June 15, was ushered in by a furious 45 AMONG THE WaTER-FowL easterly storm, the rain descending in a perfect deluge, beating and driving, threatening to drown us out of camp. But for all that I donned water- proof and rubber-boots, and started for the new lake: > Whe very first sightthat® erected) imc aaa reached it, was a Loon off on the water. ‘That only one was in sight gave promise of the other still being on the nest. - This lake was less than half of a mite in diameter, and thetask of exam- ining every foot of the margin was by’ no means an a THE ISLAND ON WHICH THE PRECEDING LOON’S NEST WAS SITUATED BY A. C. BENT impossible one, though it was more boggy, and there were more reeds, than usual. Impeded by my coat, I floundered on, the Loon following, keeping abreast of me wherever I went. The pond was in two parts, divided by a low island, that almost filled the narrows in the middle. I traversed the eastern lobe, but found no sign of the nest. Then I waded to the island, and systematically examined its shore. There were 40 THe SUBMERGED TENTH several empty nests of Holboell’s Grebe scattered along. Finally I was almost back at the starting- point, heated, bedraggled, and well-nigh dis- FLOATING NEST OF THE GREAT LOON, IN AN ONTARIO LAKE BY C.7 Jo. YOUNG couraged. Suddenly, out at the edge of the reeds, about twenty yards ahead of me, there arose a most prodigious fluttering and splashing, and away went 47 AMONG THE WaTER-FOWL an enormous Loon, half flying, half dragging her- self over the water. Getting out into the lake, she alighted with a great splash, and _ instantly dove. Eagerly I hastened forward, and waded out. Through the reeds I could see a muskrat house, and I knew what was in store. Not on top, but on the outer side, well down near the water, the ANOTHER VIEW OF THE PRECEDING bird had flattened out a sort of platform. It was the home of the Loon—at last! In a slight hol- low lay, not the usual two, but one enormous dark brown, spotted egg. That it was the full laying of the bird was evident, for it was almost ready to hatch. A day or two more, and J should have been too late. This it was, in particular, 48 THE SUBMERGED TENTH which made me confident that on the other lake the Loons had already hatched their young. What could be wetter than the surroundings ot this most amphibious creature, out there a couple of rods from shore in three or four feet of water, espe- cially in that downpour, and with the lake rising so as almost to lap over on the egg! And there, up near the end of the lake, were both the Loons foe then, submerged, as usual—all but head and neck: ange a little strip of the back—engaged, no doubt, in family consultation. From them came now and then—it seemed to me rather inappropriately—the wild, quavering note, which, though it resembled a laugh, sprung from very different sentiments. I imitated the note, and they answered back. What- ever their meaning, my note was of genuine laughter, for I felt that the laugh was properly on my side. 49 PAR © oe MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS (Gannets, Guillemots, Auks, Puffins, Kitttwakes, Etc.) ONE By one, retiring like an army of heroes from a well- fought, but unequal battle, the Murres and their allies have yielded up fortress after fortress along our coast as the encroachments of man have GREAT BIRD ROCK AT EVENING pushed their breeding-grounds farther and farther toward the wilds of the north. The time was when they occupied the rocks off Boston harbour, and swarmed upon the islands of the New England coast. But this was long ago. Only the Black Guillemots maintain themselves as far south as the islands of the coast of Maine by hiding their eggs under forbidding boulders, as also do a very few 50 MopeERN CLIiFF-DWELLERS Puffiins at Matinicus Rock, and Razor-billed Auks at Grand Manan. Several pairs of Double-crested Cormorants, after many vain efforts to rear a single brood, are about giving up the struggle. I had hoped to find better conditions existing in Nova Scotia; but, wherever I went, the story was repeated that within the last few years the birds had ceased to nest. Inguiry revealed the fact that the islands of the Gulf of St. Lawrence are now practically the southernmost stronghold of these interesting and elusive birds. So, in June, a year ago, I started for the Magdalen Islands, accompanied by a congenial bird-lover. A day’s journey brought us to Pictou, Nova Scotia, whence we embarked in the w eekly steamer upon the then calm waters of the often turbulent Gulf of St. Lawrence. Early next morn- ing, exhilarated by the almost frosty air, we gazed upon the red sandstone cliffs, spruce-grown hills, and fields dotted with white cottages, of the Mag- dalen Islands, sparkling in the sunshine. In due time we reached our destination, the home of a fisherman, near the eastern end of the chain of islands. After an interesting week spent among the water-birds of the ponds about East Point, the day arrived for our embarkation for the Bird Rocks. Weeks before we had made arrange- ments with the captain of a small schooner to land us on the Great Bird Rock on June 21, and call for us after four days, as well as with the keeper of the Bird Rock light for entertainment. 51 AMONG THE WaATER-FowL The day was unpromising; clouds were threat- ening, a fog-bank hung off at sea, and the wind, strong from the south-east, covered the ocean expanse with white-caps. About ten o’clock, when we had given up hope of starting that day, the schooner was sighted off to the westward. In half an hour she had rounded the point and “hove to” off the beach. As no boat put off from her, we got two French fishermen to launch their seine- boat and set us aboard. It was no easy matter, but finally we got out through the breakers without a wetting, and managed to tumble up on the plung- ing vessel. Following along shore, for an hour or so, the strong wind bore us opposite East Point, when, turn- ing our backs upon the grim expanse of sand that has received so many human corpses from the deep, we sped out into the unknown toward the invisible rock that lay sixteen miles to the north. Soon we approached the off-lying fog-bank, and the “ gray walls’? shut in thick and chill around us. The vessel was now rolling and plunging into the trough of the following seas in the most approved fashion. After two hours or more the captain thought that we must be getting near to the Rock. More and more birds came in sight, and we strained our ears for the clamour of the colony and the roaring of the surf. At length, anxious lest we should run too close upon the Rock in the fog, the captain crawled out and stood upon the end of the bowsprit, plung- ing almost into the sea. Suddenly, now, the fog began to lift—a sign of land. Soon we could see the blue overhead, and then, just as our look-out 52 MopeEeRN CLIFF-DWELLERS uttered a joyous shout, we saw an apparition of red and gray cliffs, and Bird Rock emerged from the mist like a grim fortress, less than Hale a mile away. @mtop of the precipice that rose sheer from the ocean were a light-house and other buildings; along its sides were lines of black and white that I knew were birds upon their nests. Flying before the wind, the Rock seemed to rise right upon us. ‘The air was now clear and the sun bright. Gannets, Kittiwakes, Murres, Auks and Pufhns were passing and repassing about us, flying to and from the cliffs. ‘Then we rounded the north-east corner of the Rock, about a gunshot out from it, looking up in amazement at the swarms of birds that almost filled the air, or clustered in masses upon the narrow ledges of the cliff. It seemed to me like a busy street of a great city, with its tall buildings, in and out of which the crowds surged, only that all the windows were doors, and it was rather alarming to see people falling in showers out of the tenth or twentieth-story win- dows. ‘The words of the Psalmist came to me as impressively descriptive—‘‘ Who are these that fly as doves to their windows?” Our approach was noted from the lighthouse above. The British ensign flying from the top of the flag-staff was dipped in our honour, and sharp rose the crash of the dynamite bomb salute. <“ Let go,” came the shout from above, as we rounded the north-west corner. Down went our anchor in response. We both took snapshots of the cliff, then hurried into the dory, where our baggage had already been put, and were rowed shoreward. The 53 AMONG THE WaTER-FowL sea broke considerably around on the other side; but here, fortunately, where the only beach was, it was andi lee from the wind, and without any difficulty we ran the boat up on the little strip of stony shingle only a few rods long. On the left was a series of ladders spiked to the rock, by which one could climb up the over one hundred feet of cliff, and here by the boat was the famous “crate,” a little open box or platform, with MURRES AND KITTIWAKES NESTING—FROM THE CRATE slab sides about waist high. Into this we put our baggage and then climbed in ourselves. The crank above began to turn, and we swung clear of the ground. ‘This was the ordeal which in time past I had somewhat dreaded, but which now seemed the pleasantest and most natural thing in the world. Before we realized it we were well up from the beach, which looked very small and far-away, when, at length, I ventured a downward glance. We 54 MoperRN CLiFrF-DWELLERS were only some ten feet or so from the cliff, and Passing close to the birds... First, if I remember rightly, were some Kittiwakes, each on a little nest LE sea-weed, built very cleverly and securely on to some slight projection or niche of the cliff. Some of the occupants sat still, others stood up, revealing two spotted eggs, or, in a few cases, newly-hatched downy young, while one or two took to flight. Off on the ie was a long array of great white Gannets, nesting on a ledge. Directly in front of us, a little higher up, we passed a great mass of Murres. On both sides were birds, anywhere and everywhere they could find a footing. Here ane there a Razor-billed Auk peered out from a recess of the rock, watching our progress. The crate was all the time turning around from the twisting of the cable, but so slowly that I did not mind it at all. The whole episode seemed like a dream, it was so soon over. In five minutes we rose in sight of the green-sward at the top, and saw two men and two women labouring at the crank, the latter with flushed faces. Then they swung the derrick-arm in over the land, where we got out to meet the keeper, Capt. Peter Bourque, who gave us a most royal welcome, and introduced us to the members of his family who were staying with him on the Rock at this time—a grown-up son, daughter and niece. The sun was now bright, so my friend and I took our cameras and started forth to view this new world of bird-life. There was the schooner already sailing away, and North Bird Rock out beyond, nearly a mile to the westward, appearing as two 55 AVG ‘S ‘0 A@ +, “ONILOOG V GNId GINOD AGHL LVHL GYaHMAYAAA GNV da HHMANV ‘ Sduld@ AYAM SACIS HLO@ NO,, 56 MopeERN C.iirF-DWELLERS separate crags, both of them white on top with brooding Gannets. ‘Then we looked directly down over the edge of the cliff, and stood entranced at the sight. It was indeed one of life and motion, for a throng of birds filled the air, ceaselessly pass- ing and repassing. Some were leaving their nests, to scale down and out over the water. Others swung up from the ocean level, to alight each in its proper niche. Others passed by us within a few feet, but none flew over the land. Years ago the “ THERE WAS THE SCHOONER ALREADY SAILING AWAY, AND NORTH BIRD ROCK OUT BEYOND” birds occupied the whole level area of green-sward on top, which I should think is about three hun- dred yards long, and half as wide. Now, however, since the building of the lighthouse, they recognize the fact that man has the ascendency. There was no cessation in the passing throng, any more than there is in business hours on the principal street of a large city. It was a constant habit for birds to act as though they were about to alight, hovering slightly as they passed some con- venient crag, even extending their feet, but decide ay LV ILL LOVA GH AVG ‘S AZINDVOOUA ‘SD Ae sdqula ., AUNGUGNGAOSVY AHL SVH HHL ‘ASQOHLHOIT FHL NVW LO YNIGUMNA AHL GONIS,, Mopern Cuirr-DWweELLeERs to pass on, and scale down again and out over the ocean. No bird seems ever to turn back and alight. It appears to be a sort of social require- ment, in this bird-city; never to alight, except after the conventional circuit out over the water. Puthns, Murres and Razor-bills often gathered in egoups on the rocks at the top of the cliff, but always at the very edge. They were not shy, and would let one approach within about twenty feet before tak- ing to flight. Now and then a Gannet would perch at the top, but not for long, ame rie was still rarer to see a Kittiwake in such a position. Both these spe- cies, for the most part, nested weil down from the top, but I soon noticed a group of Gannets only about fifteen feet down, and this was one of the first subjects for the camera. A _ single one, quite approachable both as to disposition and location, had a nest even nearer the top. It seemed impossible not to follow the birds with the eye, and the result at first was to produce slight dizziness and headache, almost ‘“sea-sickness.”’ And then, too, until one gets accustomed to it, 9 ““T SOON NOTICED A GROUP OF GANNETS ONLY ABOUT FIFTEEN FEET DOWN ”’ AMONG “THE -W ATER=EowL it is a strain upon the nerves to be ever on guard against taking a single careless step and falling off the cliff. The birds seemed so -wonderfully gas ease, launching off into space, that, after watching them awhile, it seemed almost natural and proper to follow their example. At length, in our tour of investigation, we came around to the south-east end of the © islands where the Puf- fins breed. The ground here was rather less grassy, rough, with rock cropping out. Here and there were holes in the ground, the entrances to the GANNET AND A EN MURRES INCUBATING, burrows of the AS SEEN FROM ABOVE Pufiin S, which most often led in under some flat rock. Groups of Puthns were congregated upon several projecting rocks at the edge of the cliff, and now and then an incubat- ing bird would scurry out from a hole, as we approached, and fly off. Here the cliff was broken into a series of comparatively broad ledges, which one could reach successively by several iron ladders. It did not seem as formidable as on the other side, and we both made the descent to the lowest ledge, about fifteen or twenty feet above the water. 60 EER e EO 3 age ies 5 ee F s en eg Me ae . Stes ee - gt MopeERN CLIFF-DWELLERS Now and then we started an Auk from its egg in some recess or under some projection of the rock. As this was the most accessible part of the cliff, many eggs had been gathered from these ledges, and there were not as many here as elsewhere, where they could not be reached. However, as we climbed down to the bottom ledge, we came upon a fine crowded line of Murres, each sitting on its single egg laid on the bare rock, close in under the overhanging elit; Yeratge= quently there were manifesta- tions of displea- sure and_ hostil- ity. One instance was especially curious: 1 ‘saw a Gannet plunge into the water from mid-air, and come to the surface with a ivsdi* sO eee Another at once laid hold on the prize, and there artic eA &—- a followed a long “AFTER THAT I AIMED AT A WHOLE CRAG ON tug of war. I pur WHICH ALL THESE BIRDS Se posed seeing the IN A LARGER GROUP affair through, but after ten minutes they seemed no nearer to a finish than at first, and something else distracted my attention. It is a splendid sight, of which I could never tire, to watch the great fellows scale close by the top of the cliff, with extended wings that meas- lisemas far across as a2 man can stretch, and then glide down and out over the ocean, at times to 70 MopeERN C.iiFrF-DWELLERS plunge like an arrow into the wave with a force that suggests concussion of the brain, disappearing for some seconds, and then fluttering up with the fish which is seldom agile enough to escape such an onslaught. It was interesting to hear the Keeper tell about tae birds. . After thie breeding-season they all scatter, and very few feathered creatures are seen during the long winter but files of hardy Ducks, like the Eiders, as they fly along the lanes in the drift-ice. What an experience it must be to re- main isolated from the world, in all those bitter, fearful storms, beyond human help for months at a time! No wonder these brave and hardy people rejoice over the return of the birds in the spring. Records of this and other phenomena have been kept at the request of scientific societies or of the Government, and I will quote a little from the ledger. A record of temperature, by the way, is also kept, and other meteorological facts. The highest recorded temperature on the Rock was 73 degrees, Fahrenheit. During the daytimes of our stay the mercury indicated from 48 to 55. Who- ever visits the Bird Rocks, even in summer, should wear winter clothes and not forget a heavy overcoat. Here is a calendar of the arrivals of the birds in the season of 1goo—as the Keeper had it: March 14. 1 dozen Kittiwakes ss 15. 2 dozen Kittiwakes “< 165°) ToomKathinvalees « 18. 500 Kittiwakes. Disappear for a few days << 22, BOOO Kirtimyyaleca 71 March 27. AT red os Aspral 523 (z4 2: &< ne (74 Q. ry ee oe 18. 2: DNs BFS Oop a“ 20: May oF. Kittiwakes all back About 2000 depart About 1000 Murres return. seen Murres all arrived 4 Gannets seen Gannets common 50 Razor-bills return Razor-bills common 6 Pufhns seen Puthns common Petrels heard Petrels common Murres AMONG THE WaTER-FowL appear, and 2 Gannets The following is the record as kept for 1895, in accordance with a printed list of questions: Kittiwakes. Gannets. ce ee Razor-bills. (74 “e Puffins. “¢ ce Arrived March 11 Next seen March 23 Common March 24 Began to lay May 23 Arrived March 25 Next seen April 3 Common April 3 Began to lay May 15 Arrived April 1 Common April 12 Began to lay May 5 Arrived April 18 Common April 18 Began to lay May 24 Arrived April 26 Common April 26 Began to lay May 26 72 MopERN CLirF-DWELLERS Petrels. Arrived May 6 e< Common May 6 ee Began to lay May 29 Saturday, the 23rd of June, dawned clear and calm. After breakfast we started out on a trip to North Bird Rock, as the sea was smooth, and all conditions favourable. The other men lowered me, in charge of the cameras and various equipments, in the crate, and then climbed down the long ladder. There was a dory up on one of the lower ledges, out of the reach of any ordinary sea. They manage this very nicely by attaching the hoisting apparatus, thus easily swinging it up or down. The Keeper. and his son rowed. As we neared the rocks, the Gannets, far wilder than on the main rock where they have become accustomed to the presence of man, began to fly off in clouds, and I took a couple of snapshots, which, owing to the plunging of the boat, were not very successful. The rock is in two parts. The main part, occupying hardly more than an acre of space, begins with a few low ledges, then rises up precipitous about fortyafecte Lhe top was covered white with Gannets on their nests, as was the other part, a most interesting formation. This is called the < Pillar,” or ‘ Pinnacle,” consisting of a perpendicular column of rock rising sheer out of the water some sixty or seventy feet, and, I should think, absolutely unclimbable. There is no beach to these rocks, and the sea, comparatively calm as it was, rushed upon the ledges with considerable violence. Awaiting a good chance, we ran our boat on to a flat rock and jumped out. First we both took pictures of the 73 ALIYVNOAYS ALNIOSAV NI LSAN SLANNVD GAYAHM ‘MOON GUIA HLUON AO LUVd gs eae 74 MopERN CLIFF-DWELLERS Pinnacle, that stood about a hundred yards off, with shallow water intervening. ‘Then we undertook to scale the cliff. Kittiwakes had nests here and there on the sides, a few of them within reach by a little climbing. Fortunately there were ledges and pro- jections not far apart. We let young Bourque climb up first, using my shoulders for a ladder, and had him pull us wee L ihwis: we reached ledge after ledge, until we were safely landed on the top. This we tound to consist of bare flat rock, which was covered with nests of the Gannets about a yard apart ‘‘T SELECTED ONE OF THE [GANNETS’] NESTS TO all over the area PHOTOGRAPH, A GOOD LARGE ONE WITH : AN EGG IN IT AND A SIZABLE FISH They were piles LAID UP ON THE EDGE”’ of sea-weed, more or less bulky, and most of them were empty. Later in the day we learned the cause. I selected one of the nests to photograph, a good large one with an egg in it and a sizable fish laid up on the edge for future use. Just then the Keeper called out, from below—* Gentlemen, we must leave; there’s a squall coming!’ Looking toward the west and north, I saw a threatening haze and an evident line of wind, shown by a whitened sea. I hurried so that I spoiled one plate, but I got the nest taken, and then, without stopping 75 AMONG THE WATER-FOWL to examine further, we made the descent, lowering one another from ledge to ledge. I told the anxious Keeper that I must have five minutes more, and rushed around to the other side of the island, where I could see what I named “the Rift.” It was as though the island had at some time cracked apart, leaving an opening a few rods across, with perpendicular sides that furnished nesting-places for a number of Kittiwakes. I do not remember see- ing any Murres or Razor-bills, though there may have been a few on the sides not examined. The sea evidently washes through this rift at times, though now one could walk across. I got time for one picture of it, and another of the Pinnacle, before the Keeper protested that I must come, and fairly dragged me into the boat. ‘The wind was rising and the sea increasing. We got back to Great Bird Rock, however, before the squall finally came. Then the wind blew quite hard and the rain poured down for some time, when it cleared again, giving us a beautiful calm, sunny afternoon. I spent the first part of the afternoon getting pictures of various birds by setting the camera on the rocks where they alit, with the tube attached. Later I went down with the Keeper again to the Gannet colony on the ledge at the north-west cor- ner, and did some photography, as on the first visit Ledids not take. the camera, “Returning to the top, the Keeper tied a rope under my arms, and held it while I climbed down to a ledge near the top where a number of Murres were nesting, and secured a few identified eggs of both species, 76 MopeERN CriFrF-DWELLERS having previously made a record of the species of the birds in order, as they sat on the eggs. One of the most interesting episodes during our stay was the descent in the crate to photograph the birds nesting on the adjacent wall of the cliff. This west side of the island was under the full glare of the afternoon sun, splendid for instantaneous exposures. I got into the crate, with plenty of plates, and was swung out and lowered, until I gave the signal to stop. All about were many inter- esting subjects, especially Kiutti- wakes, that I had found no oppor- tunity to photo- graph before, also groups of Murres, and off to one side some fine Gannet ledges, with long arrays of the great, snowy birds. The best subject was a mass of Murres of both kinds on their eggs, and just below them three Kittiwakes on their nests. They were all within ten feet of the course of the crate. When it was stopped opposite some good subject I held the camera on the little railing and got the exact focus of the birds, which did not appear to mind my presence particularly, though they kept uttering their notes, and now and then one would leave, though it soon returned. Then I 77 AN INCUBATING BRUNNICH’S MURRE SOOd WIHHL NO SHAANW NOWWOD Mopern CrirF-DwE.LieERs put in the plate and made ready, placing the camera in the same position on the railing, and making instantaneous exposures. The crate kept turning around, but so slowly that it made no difference, the view-finder of the camera giving the exact range. Thus I was iowered successively from ledge to ledge, swinging off in mid-air, till I had photo- graphed everything within useful range, when I ‘“JuST BELOW THEM [WERE] THREE KITTIWAKES ON THEIR NESTS ”’ signalled to be drawn up. There were no birds nesting close to the other hoisting-apparatus, or I should have made a descent there too. Earlier in the afternoon we had seen a schooner anchor off North Bird Rock. A dory went ashore, and we could hear the gunshots as they were killing the birds. After a time the men rowed over to the main rock, landed, and two of them, and a boy, climbed up the ladder. The men went around shoot- ing raking shots along the lines of birds upon their nests, mowing them down. Most of those killed simply lay dead upon the nesting-spot, where they ik) AMONG THE WaTeER-FowL were inaccessible. A few fell to the water, and were picked up by the boat, where they had quite a pile of birds and a couple of pails of eggs. My indignation at this atrocity was tempered by the fact that ‘the ‘men, “were 1enorant, wand probably hungry for fresh meat. Yet for all that they GANNETS, MURRES AND KITTIWAKES, FROM THE CRATE ought not to be allowed to slaughter the breed- ing birds. Owing to this there are only a few thousands left here at present out of former in- numerable multitudes, and all these interesting and beautiful sea-birds are becoming scarcer every year. Why cannot the Canadian Government protect them by law, and make these lighthouse keepers, or others, game-wardens, with full powers 80 MoperRN CrirF-DWELLERS to protect the birds? This is something that bird-lovers may well strive to have accomplished. Never can I forget the impressions of the Sunday that I spent on Bard Rock. The sky was overcast, with a very strong wind from the south-east, raw and chill, with aera showers. [he mercury did not rise above 50 degrees during the day, and the heaviest clothing was none too warm. Bundled up in overcoat and rubber-boots, I sat on the edge of the cliff among the rocks at the south end, and ‘emeheld the fowls ofthe air.” .1f possible, the spectacle was even more impressive than on the previous days of my stay, for it seemed as though every bird was in motion. ‘This was in accord with the Keeper’ s observation that the birds fly most in windy weather. They were like the ships, that spread their sails to the favouring breezes. Each individual bird, seemingly, would sit upon its egg or eggs just enough to keep them warm, starting away for a few turns out over the water at frequent intervals. I could never tire of these sights. On Monday morning the sky was again over- cast, and, just as I had set out the camera to try a Spare “time exposure’? on some Puftins, the rain began, and poured down furiously most of the day. Banks of fog lay off around the Rock, and the dynamite bomb exploded regularly every twenty minutes, the warning to vessels. The time was when these fog-signals frightened the birds, causing them to start so hurriedly from their nests as to cause many eggs to fall down the cliffs. But now I 81 AMONG THE WaTER-FowL could not see that they were alarmed in the least by the explosions, and I did not see a single egg fall during my stay. This was the lee when the schooner was to return for us, so, under the circum- stances, we busied ourselves preparing a few speci- mens and getting ready for the possible departure, notwithstanding that it looked as though our visit might be prolonged. Several land-birds had taken refuge on Bird Rock, one of which was a Long-eared Owl. Sun- day night it flew out from under the lighthouse, and next morning the Keeper shot it as it flew out again. He thought it would kill his chickens, and, though such a practice is quite foreign to the species, I could not guarantee that it would not have done it under pressure of starvation. Indeed, who would not? As I entered the tool-house, a bird was fluttering against the window, a Black-billed Cuckoo, as I found by catching it, of which species I had seen several individuals on the main islands of the group. I let it goin the open, and off it went with the wind, northward, toward Newfoundland, where I trust it arrived safely in due time. I also observed a Bittern and a pair of White-winged Crossbills. About the middle of the afternoon, with a change of wind to the west, the clouds broke and the sun shone out for awhile. I took a few more general views of the great bird-colony, and then set the camera on the rocks for shots at close range. But the birds were restless, flying almost constantly, and would not gather where I wanted them. Be- fore I succeeded in getting a single group, we saw the schooner coming, several miles away. 82 MopeRN CLIFF-DWELLERS Soon the dory landed, and, bidding our friends good- -bye, bag and baggage we were lowered down in the crate. I photographed the crate, and then the cliffs and the hoisting apparatus as seen from the dory. Soon we were on board the schooner and were scudding rapidly southward with free sheets, many of the birds following us in farewell salute, while other salutations came through bomb and flag, and we waved back expressions of our friendly feeling for the brave spirits imprisoned upon that grim, lonely rock. To complete our study of the Cliff-Dwellers at the Magdalen Islands, several species that did not breed at Bird Rock had to be followed up. One was the Cormorant, that near relative of .the Gannet, which differs from it, in colour, about as darkness from light. Evidently they were not plenty, for all we saw were an occasional one or two flying over the Bay inside Grand Entry, usually headed pase Shag Rock. Unlike the Gannets, too, they are exceedingly shy. All that I have ever met, here or elsewhere, that came near enough to be identified, were the Double-crested species. The so-called «‘Common” kind seems to be a_ very elusive bird, unless it be in the far north. Evidently Shag Rock must be our destination, if we were tosee much of the Cormorants. So one morning, with high hopes, we started out in the fisherman’s boat for that grim little rock twenty miles to the westward. Unfortunately the wind soon hauled out ahead and died away completely. So, after get- 83 AMONG THE WaTeER-Fowl. ting half way there, we had to give it up, and going ashore on the sand- ay that formed the east side of the lagoon, solaced ourselves among the abounding Gulls, Terns and Plovers. Here, after all, we probably found more of interest than we should have done on the rock, for on our return we met a man who had been there a summer or two ago and had _ noticed nothing but Terns breeding. It is thus probable that the Cormorants use the rock merely as a roost. There were still the Black Guillemot and Raven to be investigated, and not. far from our head- quarters was a most picturesque place where both were found. ‘This is a tremendous headland and cliff that fronts on the inside bay well up toward its head near East Point, known as “East Cape.” One can walk up a steep grassy slope in the rear, and then look over a perpendicular cliff some two hun- dred feet high. The soft rock keeps crumbling away, and now and then a fragment falls, to add to the pile of debris that has gathered below, which in some places reaches half way up the cliff. As we approached it the first time, in aboard flock of nearly twenty Ravens rose aad oe over the summit, startled from their nests or roost on the ledges, and flew away when they saw that we in- tended to land. The debris from the cliff came to the water’s edge and made it a very rough spot for disembarking. But, having an off-shore wind, we luffed the boat up near enough to leap out. Black Guillemots, hearing our voices, began to fly out from holes high up above us, to settle well out in the water. By clapping our hands and shouting, Wee stattca a number more. -Then, despite the 84 MoperRN C.iirr-DWELLERS frequently falling fragments, we climbed up the pile of loose rocks that sloped at a steep incline of more than forty-five degrees, and got about half way up the cliff. here: we could see a number of the nests of the Raven, platforms of crooked sticks, placed on ledges of the rocks or at the entrance of small caves. One nest in particular was very large, almost like an Osprey’s. None seemed to be lower down than somewhat above the top of the pile of debris, and the upper ones were not over fifteen feet or so below the summit of the cliff. Some of the young fishermen, I am told, think nothing of climbing down a rope to get Ravens’ eggs. For my part I felt no inclination to try it, as, ale way on the cliff, I gazed up and down the thee height, and finally picked my way down the rocks. Of course by this time the young were all awing, as the eggs are laid in the ces part of March or early in April. ‘There was no possibility here of reaching the nests of the Black Guillemot, but, fortunately, they were less inaccessible in certain ier places. All over the Magdalen Islands scattered pairs nest in the caves that the sea washes out in the sandstone banks or cliffs. In one cave near our headquarters a pair had their two handsome spotted eggs on the bare rock of a little shelf, about as high as one could reach above the water. The only way to get at them was on a very calm day to row a boat right into the cave. As the inevitable swell rolled in after the boat, suggesting the effect that a larger wave might produce, the inclination was not unnatuial to get out of the uncanny place as quickly as possible. 85 AMONG THE WATER-FOWL On the Fourth of July, the steamer arrived about the middle of the morning, and, bundled up in overcoats and winter clothing, we bade farewell to these wintry but interesting islands, in two days’ travel reaching a temperature of one hundred in the shade in sweltering New England, when we wished we were back again among the Murres. Our experience tallied with that of the Gloucester fisher- man who remarked that he had experienced three winters in one year—one at the Grand Banks, one in Gloucester, and a third with the summer mack- erel fleet at the Magdalen Islands. Better even than the Magdalens for the study of certain of these species that we are considering are some other places that I have visited. As for the Double-crested Cormorants, though I have not as yet been privileged to visit their breeding-grounds on the cliffs of Newfoundland and Labrador, I have become very familiar with a fine colony of them in the West, which I shall describe in another chapter. Regarding the Ravens and Black Guillemots, though they abound in the very far North, I do not know where they can be more easily and safely observed than on our own coast of Maine. Here their Mecca is the islands of Penobscot Bay, and they are accessible without risking one’s life on the terrible cliffs of the northern seas. For want of such cliffs, where a nest is practically safe, the Raven considers a spruce tree amid the thick forests oretne lonely islets as the likeliest shelter. Here 86 MopERN CLIFF-DWEiLERS many of them breed, and likewise on various spruce- rown islands of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Though I have not visited their haunts at the nesting season, I nevertheless had the pleasure of a close inspection of a Raven’s nest on an uninhabited island of Penobscot Bay. About the middle of May, when the Herring Gulls were laying their first eggs on this island, a party of boys discovered a Ravens’ nest in a spruce tree, containing three well- grown young. ‘These they carried home with them, and were keeping them, when I arrived a month later, in a hen-house, as they had tried to escape to the woods. One day the boys took me femene:-tiests) 7ihe. .spruces*on the island are not large, and the nest, though two-thirds way up, was only about twenty feet from the ground. Climbing to it, I found it to resemble the Crows’ nests seen on ‘he island, only it was.much larger. It was built of large ace aee sticks, some of them as thick as one’s chia hollowed deeply. The lining was of grass and sheep’s wool, of which latter there was an ample supply from the flock that had been ferried over and left to run at large. The well- picked carcasses that lay here and there suggested the well-known carnivorous habits of the Raven. As for the Black Guillemots, on many a rocky islet there is a small colony of them, of from two or three pairs up to thirty or more. To one such, near Matinicus, I have often been. It is a low- lying strip, a couple of hundred yards long and rather narrow, composed almost wholly of round stones and boulders heaped together in wild confu- sion. Sometimes I have rowed there in a fog, by 87 AMONG THE WaTER-FOWL compass, again under clear skies, with calm summer sea. As we approach it is usual to see about thirty birds, some of them in the water just off the island, others sitting on the rocks, conspicuous with their deep green-black bodies and the large white patch on each wing. Watching a chance, we run the boat up on a flat ledge and haul it well out. The Guillemots fly, all that are in sight, but there are nearly as many more in under the rocks upon their nests, if our visit is within a month after the middle of June, at about which date the eggs are laid. Now comes the awkward and possibly painful part of the procedure, if we would see their beauti- ful eggs—selecting a hole under some rock, partic- ularly if there be droppings about the entrance, to get down flat on on one’s face and try to look in. It may require many attempts of this kind before a discovery quickens the pulse. Knees are bruised, the back is tired and the neck is lamed. It seems as though there were a million stones to look under, and even thirty nests among them seem discourag- ingly few. But success is bound to follow. There is one flat rock where, every season that I have come, there has been a nest, so we will look there. Yes, there is the bird squatting far underneath. She sees us and scurries further back, leaving her two handsomely blotched eggs. The stone weighs more than a ton, sO we cannot move it, nor are the eggs within arm’s reach. But with a piece of drift- wood, if we wish, we can pry them out over the pebbles, among which, without any soft lining, they ane laid. Where is little danger of breaking them, 88 MoperRn C.uirF-DwWEeELLers as the egg-shells produced by all these birds that lay on the bare rock are of flinty hardness—a won- derful provision of Nature. There is a nice colony of some seventy-five pairs or more of these birds, along with many hun- dreds of the Arctic Tern, also on “ Matinicus Rock,” which locality I shall describe in another chapter. Here the Guillemots nest in great crevices or clefts of the main body of the rock and under separate boulders. Along with them are a few pairs of Puffins, this being their southernmost breeding-ground on the Atlantic -coast. Strangely enough, when I was there last, no one in the two families on the little island had ever seen a Puffin’s egg, though they had often tried to find one. There is no soil in which these “Sea Parrots’’ can burrow, so they crawl in under the largest rocks, and perhaps down under further layers, through winding passages. ‘Try my best, I, too, had to own myself beaten in this search. During one of my visits to this island I saw an albino “ Black ’’ Guillemot in the colony. At first it was out in the water with a flock of its darker brethren, acting and appearing just like the others, except for its colour. Later my companion sur- prised it sitting upon the rocks. It flew from a spot only a few feet from him, giving him a splen- did view, particularly of its back. As far as he could see, it was of a creamy white all over, save for some gray markings on the back. Anxious to secure this remarkable specimen, I borrowed a gun from one of the Keepers, and went in search of it, without, however, being able to catch sight 89 AMONG THE WaTER-FowL of it again. No doubt it was taking its turn upon the nest. So anxious was I to learn of it further that, a few days later, I made a special trip again to this remote rock, only to be disap- pointed. I did not see anything of it, nor had any of the people noticed it. It was stale probably tosebe walking a few feet over it, and yet, despite all my peering under the rocks, not to discover it. However I was repaid for the effort by the privilege of examining a few more of the fine eggs of the “Sea Pigeons,’ each set different in mark- ings and each nesting-spot chosen having some interesting feature. Even with all the din of the hovering Terns, we could often detect the location of the nest by a peculiar rustling sound, as the incu- bating bird scurried, at our approach, further under the sheltering rock. ‘Then comes the pleasure and excitement ae seeing it the eggs can be gotten at. And what a source Re: enjoyment it is to sit on the rocks, quite well out of sight, and see the pretty creatures pass and repass, often close to one’s face, with that little murmuring sound, noting the green gloss of the black plumage, and the coral-red legs extended out behind, or dangling when their owner is about to alight. Now and then a Puffin whirrs by, giving variety with its grotesque, painted bill and its paler orange legs. After many circlings back and to, out to sea and in again, at length a Guillemot alights quite near. Then another comes, and presently there is quite a little group, perhaps eight or ten, waddling about, or sitting in a slanting attitude, not as erect as the Murres, it seemed to 90 MopeERN CLiFrF-DWELLERS me, nor as horizontal as the Pufliins. How these scenes impress themselves on the memory of a bird-lover ! After the breeding-season the various Cliff Dwellers leave their summer haunts and scatter over the ocean, yet keeping mostly “‘on soundings.” By the latter part of September, or early October, lines of Cormorants, with slow, measured fight bern to wing their way along the southern New England coast, even flying over the land. Many people mis- take this for an early flight of Geese, and wonder why they fly at this time in silence, without “honking.” Quite often flocks alight in the larger ponds to rest and quench their thirst. I recall how, one beautiful October day, about thirty of them settled down in Lake Nippenickett, and remained out in the centre for over half an hour, resting and drinking the fresh water. ‘Then they rose, to con- tinue their southward flight. Unfortunately for them they passed over a gunning-stand on a point of land, where a hunter lay in wait for ducks. Though they were quite high up, one shot took effect, and a great black creature came tumbling down. When I reached the spot I found that it was a Double-crested Cormorant. At any time during the autumn they may be seen resorting to certain low, rocky islands and ledges off the coast, and to some extent during the winter. Returning northward in the spring, they gather in flocks in certain bays, and fly out, often over projections of iand. A fisherman, some years ago, told me that gi AMoNG THE WaTER-FowL they did thus from the bay at Plymouth, Mass., crossing Gurnet Beach, at which times they were easily shot. During late fall and winter the so- called Common’ Cormorant is also found spar- ingly along the coast. It is late in the fall, about the first of November, before the Murres and their allies stray as far from their northern haunts as the Massachusetts coast, beyond which not very many of them ordinarily are supposed to go, except as they are driven by severe northerly gales. They are hardy creatures, little inclined to migrate from the latitude of their breed- ing-grounds, save as the closing in of the ice makes it expedient. Most of them keep well out to sea, especially frequenting the shoals and banks where fish are abundant. If the season is mild and devoid of severe gales, they keep well to the north. In very wintry weather they come in around the mouths of harbours. One bitter December morn- ing, with the mercury at zero, I watched a group of Murres in Lynn harbour, off Nahant. There was a channel-post that sloped considerably with the tide, and these Murres would waddle up the incline, sit awhile, then dive headlong, and climb up again, seeming to greatly enjoy this sport. They do not ordinarily come in large numbers into Cape Cod bay, though off Manomet I occasionally see in the winter a line of Murres skim by. One calm, misty day in December, as I lay at anchor there in a dory off on the fishing-ground, watching the Gulls and Gannets, a solitary Razor-billed Auk suddenly emerged from the swell only a few feet away, and for some minutes bobbed around in the Q2 Mopern CiirF-DwWELLrrs usual comical manner, with “stern” high out of water, its tail erected, squinting at me with its sharp little eyes. Suddenly it sank, as mysteriously as it had appeared, and that was all I saw of this waif of the ocean. While it is not surprising that birds like the Puffin and Razor-bill, that breed quite far to the north, prefer to winter north of Massachusetts, we certainly might expect to see more of the Black Guillemot, since it breeds so abundantly no further away Aan the coast of Maine. Now and then I have seen a small party of them in mid-winter oft the rocks of Manomet, and similar places, yet rather infrequently. But around Matinicus at that season they are more abundant than ever. How different our familiar “Sea Pigeon” looks in its winter dress, the biack of summer changed to gray and white. The only thing about it that looks natural is the white patch on the wing. I know of no better place to observe the sea- birds off the Massachusetts coast in winter than on the fishing-grounds off Chatham. One favourable day in my experience will illustrate what may be seen. I was spending Christmas week with a fisher- man for the purpose of studying the various marine birds, and had arranged with him to sail me out over the bars upon the first possible occasion. For nearly the whole week the bars were too rough to cross. But on the last day of«theold (year; dark and threatening though it was, we made the attempt, and succeeded in getting “outside.” Just off the entrance we began to meet Brunnich’s Murres bob- bing about on the water. By the time we got 93 AMONG THE WaTER-FOWL three or four miles off the land, the sea was fairly alive with them, while Kittiwakes were flitting about in all directions, plunging ‘Tern-like into the water after small fish. I shall never forget the scene that ensued when a school of these small fry rose to the surface, prob- ably chased by the Haddock or Dog- fish below. The birds instantly discovered the hook and made forit. he: air was: full -of 2excited Kittiwaken hovering, plunging and fluttering up with their prey. Line after line of Murres likewise came flying up, and, pitching down into the water, dove. and ted. In a few moments the water for about an acre was amass of struggling birds. At length they so alarmed the fish that these preferred facing their finny enemies to this feathered onslaught, and, with a simultaneous leap, they were gone. It was surprising how quickly the birds scattered again. We beat some eight or ten miles off-shore against the moderate easterly wind to the fishing- ground, noticing that the line of the greatest abundance of birds was about half way out. Yet there were quite a few birds on the fishing-ground. As we hauled up the slimy Cod, Hake and Haddock, the beautiful Kittiwakes so unlike the wary large Gulls—as though begging for the titbits of liver that we now and then threw them. They seemed to have absolutely no fear of man, flying back and forth so near us as barely to avoid our sail and rigging. It almost seemed that they could be taught to feed out of one’s hand. The Murres, or “ Noddies,’’ as the Chatham fisher- men call them, came also for their share. As they 94 MopDERN CrIFF-DWELLERS paddled around close to the stern of the sloop in the characteristic attitude of this class of birds, breast well down in the water and rump considerably elevated, I thought of them as miniatures of the ancient ships that Virgil wrote about, with their “lofty sterns.’”’ I used this opportunity to try to discover some of the “Common” Murres among this horde of Brunnich’s, but did not see a single specimen that I could recognize as such. This seems to be the universal experience of observers, and now, despite the older accounts, it is questioned whether the “Common” Murre is ever found as far south as Massachusetts. One special treat was in store for me. While I was fishing, happening to glance “to the nor’ard,”’ I saw a very small bird skimming like a bullet low over ethe’.sea, making, directly forthe —boat..- sit passed close by on tiny, quick-beating wings, and, giving me only this brief, precious glimpse, speedily disappeared to the southward. It was no less dis- tinguished a personage than the Dovekie, or Little Auk, the only one that in all my winter ocean wanderings I have ever seen alive. Next day, celebrating the New Year, I was wandering along the grim, icy beach along the “back side of the Cape,” watching the birds and the breakers. The bedraggled carcass of a Razor- bill brought to mind the thought of the terrible winter storms that destroy these poor creatures by the thousands. It is well known that they are sometimes blown inland, to perish in the snowdrifts. One of my early recollections is of a Puffin being found in Jamaica Pond, Boston, after such a storm. 05 AMONG THE WaATER-FowL Only a tew days before this writing, in December, a man showed me the remains of a Brunnich’s Murre which had been captured forty miles from Long Island Sound, in western Connecticut, the day following an easterly gale and snowstorm. The poor thing was standing on the ice over a small river. ‘Though too much exhausted to fly, it made quite a spirited resistance before it allowed itself to be taken by hand. ‘The captor was actually cook- ing the emaciated body for supper when I arrived upon the scene, which repast I felt no desire to share. From the standpoint of many, January is an uncomfortable time for wandering on sea and shore in search of the birds. On the contrary, the ocean is at its best and grandest in winter. Would one see waves? ‘Take the train for the coast when the wildest gale of the winter is raging, and there will be sights to stir the most siuggish blood. And as for sea-birds, there are few indeed in summer, as compared with the ever-changing panorama of fowl] that wing their way over the unutterable wildness of ice-bound bay and restless wintry sea. Can one be a thorough ornithologist and not know the sea- fowl? Most of us must begin with the door-yard birds. But as the desire grows for more of this interesting bird-lore, we may expect that it will lead us to visit mountain and forest and shore, even the wintry ocean itself, whenever and wherever the wildest of the feathered tribes are to be found. 96 PAR elt OCEAN WANDERERS (Shearwaters, Skuas, Petreis, Phalaropes) I sHALL never forget the day on which began my intimacy with a class of birds of whose existence I had been hardly more than aware—birds that THE REALM OF THE OCEAN WANDERERS OFF EAST POINT, MAGDALEN ISLANDS, FAR FROM HUMAN HABITATION make the billows of ocean their home. It was the twelfth of July. The first gray of the morning found me, with a party of friends, scudding down the bay of Chatham, Mass., in a fishing sloop. A light south-west ae ae and a racing tide swept us 97 AMONG THE WaATER-Fowl. out over the agitated waters of the harbour-bar, than which there is none more dangerous on our coast. Then the fiery bail of the sun rose from the ocean, dispelling the morning mist, and drying the cold, wet decks of the fishing-fleet. Off to the south-east we sped, crossing the track of various coasting- vessels four or five miles off shore, losing sight of land a dozen miles out, and yet pressing on, till, after about four hours’ sail, we were some twenty- five miles off the Cape. Here dwelt the denizens of the deep. Majestic among them all were the Finback Whales, a band of which were playing about, as though for our special amusement. Sev- eral times a great fellow emerged so close to us as to alarm even the fisherman. It was a most impres- sive sight, as the water rushed with thundering roar from the great back, and the spout of white spray accompanied the mighty outbreathing—< the blast of the teribleyones:: <° 2%). asa storm againstthe wall.” Great swells lifted and tossed the sloop, so prostrating one of our number with the sickness of the sea, that he could hardly be induced, as he lay torpid and miserable on deck, to even raise his head and see a Whale that rose within fifty yards of us. We all set to work with the lines, and soon great flopping Cod, Hake and Haddock were rapidly filling the “ kids,” or lockers. And around us gathered the feathered wanderers of the ocean floor. About six miles out the first one had ap- peared, a rather large bird with dark back and white breast, that, with a peculiar gliding flight, on long, narrow wings which it held slightly decurved at the 98 OcEAN WANDERERS intervals of sailing, skimmed low over the surface of the water in an irregular course, till lost to sight. The name “ Shearwater’? had been to me a mere book-term; henceforth it was a reality. A few miles further out we noticed a flock of about twenty birds resting on the water. As we approached, we saw that they were of the same sort, except that one was of a dark sooty colour. The skipper, who knew their ways, mischievously steered the boat just to windward of them. The wind was then very light, and the sail shut off, for the time, what little there was, so that the birds, as they were quite tame and did not rise soon enough, found themselves unable to leave the water. One of them, by frantic flapping and paddling, just man- aged to clear the bow of the craft and avoid being run over. The others turned, and fluttered off to leeward, squawking and wailing in their terror. The dark one was of the species called the ‘Sooty Shearwater ;” the other kind bears the specific name of ‘‘ Greater.’ Before this I had only one or two distant glimpses from steamers at Petrels, or ‘ Mother Carey’s Chickens.” Out here the curious little swallow-like creatures—sooty in colour, except for a white band on the rump—were everywhere flit- ting and pattering about. They fly in the most irregular manner, as though they had no special destination in view, as indeed they have not, care- less where chance may lead, if only it is to food; and it is surprising how quickly these ocean wan- derers can discover the presence of a supply. After we had fished awhile, the skipper suggested that we 99 AMONG THE WaATER-FOWL throw out some cod-livers, and see the birds. Just then, as it happened, there was but one bird, a Shearwater, in sight. It was but a moment or two before it spied the mass floating on the water, sur- rounded by a greasy “slick,” and, alighting beside it, proceeded, with satisfied grunts, to gorge itself in the most eager and gluttonous manner, as though afraid that another might come to share the feast. This evident anticipation was certainly well founded, for in a moment, as though out of space, a Petrel appeared, then another Shearwater, and soon there were over fifty birds around us. Perfectly fearless, they would swim or fly up, and almost take the liver from our hands. It was a most animated and interesting scene. This first day gave me yet another acquaintance. _As we were nearing the fishing grounds, I spied a large dark bird approaching, higher up than is usual with the Shearwaters, flying more like a Gull. “A Jiddy-hawk,” exclaimed the fisherman, and, seizing a clam from the “ washer,’ he tossed it over the side. The bird would have passed us at some dis- tance, but no sooner did it see the fisherman’s move- ment than it turned, and swooped down to the water, quite close alongside. Then I knew that the mysterious “ Jiddy ’ was the Pomarine Skua, or Jaeger—of a tribe that are a sort of predatory adjunct to the Gull fraternity. We saw but two more that day; a little later in the season they were abundant. Since that interesting day of initiation, a num- ber of years ago, I have made many more trips thither, and to other parts of our coast, to study 100 OcEAN WANDERERS these ocean wanderers, and have come to know them quite intimately, as they are seen in this part of the world. Yet a most interesting part of their career is still buried in obscurity. The Shearwaters are now believed to breed in the Antarctic regions during the southern summer, about January or February. Like their allies che Petrels, they nest in burrows in the ground or holes in cliffs. After this they start wandering, and where do they not go over earth’s oceans? ‘They wander up the southern seas, cross the equator, and, according to the fishermen, appear off Nova Scotia and on the « Banks” about the first of May, following the migration of various fish. ‘They are found a over Hie. northern ocean until autumn, when they gradu- ally withdraw, as cold weather comes on. The fishermen rarely or never see them in winter, and I myself have seen but one, a Greater Shearwater, I took it to be, the last day of one December, about eight miles off Chatham. Whe, Jaegers, onthe conttary,.are’ (raised) in northern latitudes, in the short summer of the barren arctic solitudes. Thence they begin to wan- der down to the New England coast in July. By August they become common, and in September and October they are abundant in suitable localities on the ocean. With the advent of winter most of them proceed further south. Our Petrels are both northerners and southerners. There are two kinds common on our ‘coast— Leach’s and Wilson’s Petrels. ‘The only perceptible difference between them is that the former has forked tail and black webs between its toes, the latter 101 AMONG THE WaATER-FOwWL ”) a “square” tail and yellow v webs. ‘They are hard to distinguish at any distance, and thus one might agetlook! the rarer, though very similar, Stormy or Least Petrel, which I ive never certainly identified. Leach’s Petrel breeds from the coast of Maine northward, while the other goes with the Shear- waters to the mysterious far south. During sum- mer, when our northern Petrel is breeding, it is usually the southerner that we meet off our coasts. All that I have identified off Cape Cod at that sea- son were of the latter kind. In the autumn we find both kinds intermingled. As for winter, it has never been my fortune to meet any Petrel at that season, though they may occur further off shore. Out of the very many trips that I have made into the haunts of the ocean wanderers, mostly off Chatham, I will cull out some of the more note- worthy incidents that will illustrate the habits of these unique and interesting birds. One that stands out in my memory was the second of August, away back in 1883, when I met for my first and only time a certain rare bird. As usual, I was with a fisherman off Chatham, well out to sea. Among the many Shearwaters—‘“ Hags”’ or “ Haglets,” as the fishermen call them—I noticed an individual resembling the Greater Shearwater, but lighter in colour in the back, and with a large, conspicuous yellow bill. I had not the least idea what it was, and my naturalistic ardour rose to white heat. Fortunately there was a gun in the cabin. I made ready, and when, at length, the strange bird again flew past, I tumbled it into the water. Luttng the boat up to it, I laid down the gun, and was about to 102 OcEAN WANDERERS seize my prize, when there came a sudden reviving. Wings were spread, and away it went, right from under my very nose. I felt the keenest disippome ment until, on the return trip, another of the unknown birds came in sight. With palpitating heart I threw out livers, and as eagerly did it accept the invitation. This time the bird was mine, and subsequent research identified it as Corey’s Shear- water, which had been newly discovered to science only a couple of years previously, in the very same locality. As far as I know, I was thus the second naturalist to secure a specimen. This is the nearest I ever came to being the discoverer of a new species of bird. I saw that day one other specimen, and thought that all of them acted precisely like their more familiar relatives. When I compare the two common Shearwaters, I recall little that is distinctive, other than their colour. ‘The Sooty fellow seems a little the heavier built, but this does not appear to affect its flight. I love to watch either of them fly. On a windy day when, away out there on the boundless deep, the swells are assuming almost alarming proportions, and the advancing wall of water menaces the little white-winged sailing-craft that lies deep down in the hollow, the Shearwaters are in their element. With guick beatings of wing they dash past in the teeth of the breeze, dirigible flying-machines that they are. Now they set their wings, fully extended and slightly depressed, and scale along the trough of the sea, the tips of the wings almost touching the water. Then they turn, and shoot up over the breaking crest of the wave, the blast turning them 103 AMONG THE WaTeR-Fowi to one side, and away they go across the white- capped ranges of ocean mountains. Wild things they are, living that roving life on the unquiet ocean, knowing for months no real resting place. How can they rest amid the breaking seas? Who knows, when the gales blow for days at a time, whether they remain all that time, day and night, upon wing, or settle momentarily on the agitated water, till a breaking surge soon forces them awing? And how fare the seemingly puny little Petrels, so slight of form that they appear like little dark butterflies or tufts of down, driven by every blast ? At times the storms are indeed more than they can bear. I have seen dead bodies of Shearwaters on the ocean beach, and once I was witness to the close of the wandering career of a Leach’s Petrel. It was during the raging of an October hurricane from the northeast, when, impressed by the sublimity of the forces that were uprooting trees and multi- plying destruction upon the land, I took the train to Sandwich, on Cape Cod, that I might witness the effect of the storm upon the ocean. Those who have been by the sea at such a time can realize much that I witnessed. It was well worth braving the beating rain and the furious wind to see the surges thunder in upon the sand, the white, seething cauldron of the ocean, and the hordes of water-fowl, mostly sea-ducks of various sorts, thousands upon thousands of them, that were passing, some skim- ming low over the waves, others blown in over the beach. Strong of wing, the gale but helped them on their southward course,—yet not all. As I stood on the sand, I noticed a flutter of wings amid an 104 OcEAN WANDERERS advancing wave. Something was cast struggling ashore, helpless before each succeeding wave that worried it as a wild beast its prey. When I reached the spot, I picked up a Leach’s Petrel. Poor thing, it was bedraggled with water and with its own oil, and evidently near the bourne of life. ‘The kindest thing I could do was to put my heel on it and end its sufferings. I wondered if this were not one of innumerable like cases, where the bird tires of being kept awing by the raging of the elements, and falls, at length, exhausted, into the vortex of destruction. The movements of these birds depend largely upon the supply of food, which consists of small fish and all sorts of minute marine creatures. They love to congregate where whales are found, to pick up any leavings and secure their share of the small bait-fish that the monsters pursue. Shearwaters and Petrels are redolent with oil. When handled they squirt out a yellowish oil from the nostrils. When the whales are about, the water has some- times, in calm weather, seemed to me noticeably greasy, and I was tempted to imagine that the Petrels, that were everywhere pattering about, were engaged in skimming from the water choice and nutritious whale-oil! The birds are scavengers in part, but one wonders what they find to eat, as there is so little on the ocean surface visible to the human eye. The fact is, however, that the upper stratum of the ocean teems with life. One is never sure of finding them abundant in any one locality, even on successive days. Now and then I have seen numbers of them just off Chatham Bars, but usually they are not common 105 AMoNG THE WaATER-FowL much in-shore from “the Crab Ledge,” a fishing ground about eight miles from land. And then, again, they are away off on “ Rocky Grounds twenty miles or more of shore. Still, it is won- derful, when vision and other resources fail to place them, to try the judicious use of cod-liver. Again and again, when not a bird was in sight, and I was satisfied that they had gone off shore: as the boat sailed along I have daeed out now and then a piece of liver, squeezed into fragments. In the course of some ten minutes, a Petrel would be seen, hovering far astern, feasting greedily. Soon the supply was garnered, and the “ Mother Carey’s”’ followed up the wake of the boat. No matter how fast we sailed, the ever hungry bird soon caught up and flitted close about, as though begging for more. Not only one, but another and another, a Haglet, a Skua, and before long we had the usual company. I would not assert that by the chemical union of cod-liver and oxygen Shearwaters are produced, and from liver and hydrogen Petrels, though at times it almost-ceems so-* Try it-and? see! Yet 1 should advise one not to expect too much, unless there is a likelihood that there is at least one Petrel within a few miles. The solution is, I take it, the acuteness of their vision that enables them to see others hover- ing and feeding at a far greater distance than we could descry them. These ocean birds seem to have some power of observation as to the weather. Fishermen had told me that Petrels flock before a storm, but it was long before I observed it for myself. At length, one afternoon in August, we were sailing in from the 106 OcEAN WANDERERS “Rocky Grounds,” when a thunder squall began to roll up from the westward. ‘The clouds grew very dark, the air was quite still, and lightning-flashes appeared shoreward. Just then we sailed by a flock of Petrels, closely grouped upon the water. There must have been over a hundred of them, and others kept arriving, alighting in their midst. Though at rest on the water, they kept up a constant fluttering or trembling of the wings, and emitted low, twit- tering notes. They certainly seemed ill at ease, and I do not doubt that the approach of the storm had this effect upon them, as the skipper said it was a common habit at such times. Poor little things, this was all the refuge they knew how to take, the solace of companionship at a time of possible danger. Petrels are thus named from their seeming ability, like Peter of old, to walk on the water. In reality this is only done in appearance, for, though they patter over the surface with their long, slender, black legs and little webbed feet, the wings are kept constantly in motion, and it is these that really support them. The time came when photography was made an adjunct to bird-study, and one August day the camera and I made our first joint trip out over Chatham Bars. ‘This summer the fish were school- ing well in-shore on the “‘ Crab Ledge,” so we did not have to start till half-past five. Ina couple of hours we were on the fishing-grounds, the day partly cloudy, and the wind light from the south- east. Birds seemed unusually scarce. Except for 107 AMONG THE WATER-FOWL some Terns near land, I did not see a single one till we had. been. fishing half. an +hour. ~Then ome Greater Shearwater came flying around after some- thing to eat, and presently a Wilson’s Petrel. ‘This made me realize that we might yet have company, so I cut out some livers and threw them, piece-meal, PRESENTLY I HAD A PAIR OF GREATER SHEARWATERS BOBBING AROUND THE BOAT, GULPING DOWN LIVER GREEDILY.”’ astern, the strong tide carrying them swiftly to leeward. The old method worked like a charm. Presently I had a pair of Greater Shearwaters bob- bing around the boat, gulping down liver greedily, and quite a number of Petrels pattering and flutter- menabout. still they came, more. Petrels and Shearwaters, then several Sooty Shearwaters and a 108 LO Ladd GHHeaM AIGHL HLIM ONIddVIt AH YULVM WOLSHS © SI Ll SDNIJHOMIY WTSnl VON aay Sake emer HLIM DNITGGVd OL NOIWLIGGY NI “SONIM WISFHL GAHL UAAO SHATAUSNAUHL Tadodd OL SYALVYVMUVAHS “SUULVMAVAHS AALVAUAI 109 AMONG THE WaATER-FOwWL few Pomarine Jaegers. The latter were shyer than the others, remaining, for the most part, on the outskirts of the group, though now and then venturing nearer for some specially tempting morsel. In half an hour we had a hundred birds close around us. The “ Haglets’’ and “ Mother Carey’s~ were exceedingly tame. They would come right up to the side of the boat to secure a piece of liver, and once I actually caught a Petrel alive by giving it a little poke with a gaff, seizing it before it could again get awing. I nearly induced a pair of Shear- waters to eat out of my hands. They would swim up, extend their bills within a foot of the liver, and gaze at it as wistfully as a dog does at a bone. As soon as I dropped it, they would pounce upon it, extending their wings and uttering peculiar grunts and wailing sounds. And here is how I got my photographs. I made ready the camera for an instantaneous ex- posure, and, by the focusing-scale, set the lens for what I guessed would be the proper distance. Then I enticed the birds as near the boat as possible by throwing out liver close alongside. With greasy hands I caught up the camera, made a final guess at the focus, and snapped at the birds before they were off. A Reflex camera would have been far better for this work, but I had to make the best of the apparatus at hand. Sometimes I threw out a whole handful of liver a little farther from the boat, and instantly there would be a frantic scramble for it of all the birds nearest. ‘The Shearwaters seemed particularly quar- relsome, and how they would fight for that liver, IIO ATINVILISNI aNv «, ATEANVAOS OILNVUE V ZA CINOM AYAHL “ MHAIT FO INAGNVH WIOHM VY INO MAYHL I SAWILANOS ,, Tr AMONG THE WaATER-FOwL squealing and biting at one another with every possible exhibition of passion. If the liver is car- ried under by the tide, several birds at once dive after it, and, emerging amid the excited crowd, will bear up on their backs others that happen to be over them,—as is shown in the illustration. While resting on the water, they often extend their wings, perhaps in readiness to flutter and paddle after the food they are expecting to be thrown out. It is rather hard work for them to start in flight, unless there is a good breeze, and they have to run patter- ing with their feet over the water for some distance before they are fully awing. The fishermen had told me that the Haglets are readily caught with hook and line, and I now tried the experiment. Baiting a small hook on a light line, I tossed it over. A Shearwater immediately pounced down, dove after the sinking hook, and cleverly bit off the bait. I tried again with a larger piece, but jerked it out of the bird’s mouth. Next time I waited until the thing was half swal- lowed, and then slowly drew the line taut. The hook caught in the bill, and, despite frantic flapping and bracing the feet against the water, I drew the victim, a Greater Shearwater, into the boat. No sooner was the line slacked than the hook dropped out, having held only slightly in the horny part of the mouth, not injuring the bird in the least. Finding that the bird could not rise from a hard surface, I gave it the freedom of the deck. It ran into a corner, and ‘squealed and bit when I attempted to handle it. It was awkward in gait, and now and then would fall down, evidently being 112 OcEAN WANDERERS rather out of practice in pedestrianism. In the same way several more were captured. When re- leased, at length, by being thrown into the air, they went scaling off over the ocean. I could not tell whether or not the same individuals returned to the feast, as they were soon lost among the many that were flying about. The skipper said that out on the Banks the fisher- men catch the Haglets and put several of them together in a barrel to get them fighting. Each seems to consider the others its enemies, and they will all set to screaming and tearing at one another in the most desperate fashion. From the accounts of this Hag-baiting I should judge that Game-cocks and Kilkenny Cats had at least their equals in these marine fighters. I could not quite bring myself to experiment with this cruelty, contenting myself with the description, that the traits of these birds here observed made entirely credible. It was much more difficult to photograph the Petrels than the Shearwaters. They moved so quickly that it was hard to get the camera focused and aimed at short range before they were off, and, even when I did, the motion of their wings was so rapid that it required more speed than that of an ordinary shutter. ‘To-day, however, with the new Reflex camera or the focusing finder, these difh- culties have been greatly lessened. Once out on the fishing-grounds, aside from the vicissitudes of the elements, there is always the delightful uncertainty as to what a day may bring 113 ONIWIVA,, « YALVM FHL NO OILSIMALOVYVHD WITHL SMOHS LHOIY AHL NO ANO AHL ‘STAYLAd S,NOSTIM 114 OcEAN WANDERERS forth. As at our “‘ Expositions,’ different classes or nationalities have their “day,” so off on the sea, perhaps for purposes of exposition to the ornithol- ogist kindly furnished by Providence, different kinds of birds have theirs. Usually the Greater Shear- water is the abundant “ Haglet,’ outnumbering their dark-hued relative twenty to one. But now and then comes a “Sooty day,” when the order is almost reversed, though the disproportion is seldom as great. Perhaps there is a “ colour-line”’ among the Shearwaters, so that when the “coloured” Hags in large numbers invade the “Crab Ledge,” most of the lighter-coloured aristocrats manage to find more congenial marine pastures elsewhere. At times in August we are treated to a “ Phalarope day,” when rafts of these dainty little creatures dot the water far off shore. But, of all these special occasions, I know none more entertaining than “ Jaeger day”’ at this great marine exposition of Nature. One such that I shall ever remember was the 26th of August, four years ago. Long before we reached “Crab Ledge”’ I knew it was “ Jaeger day,” for the great dark fellows were everywhere about, chasing the Terns and Bonaparte’s Gulls in their savage fashion. And what a strange fashion it is! If a Tern or small Gull happens near a Jaeger, there is almost certainly trouble in store. The latter gives chase. The pursued makes every effort to escape. But the Jaeger,—well named he is, “ hunter,’’—is the better Hier. With savage swoops, he strikes his little white cousin from this direction and from that. Mounting in the air is of no avail, ‘So at last, in I15 ;, ALOOS, , qaoH-wava ANO HLIM “SUALVMUVAHS WaALvVaNoO AO MOOT TIVNS Vv 136 OcEAN WANDERERS fear and despair, the Gull or Tern does what it knows the robber wants, disgorges the hard-earned contents of its crop,—a choice fish, or a mass of half-digested matter. No further use, at present, has the pirate now for his victim. Poising for an instant, he swoops down after the meteoric shower of food, usually catching it before it reaches the water. If not, he alights, gathers it in, and then kites away in search of another swallow of the sea, on which to pour the vials of his wrath. There are so many more of the hunted than of the hunt- ing, that the former might easily combine and mob the marauder, did they but know their real power. We saw this process repeated until we were too far off shore for Terns to be often found. But the Jaegers do not depend upon Terns; they can forage for themselves, and, in fact, they do it for the most part. On the fishing-grounds I was delighted to find them as abundant as Shearwaters, or even more so. They hung about us all day in large numbers, and partook of the liver that I threw out to them. Despite all my eftorts, I could not get one near enough for a satisfactory picture. Perhaps I might have done so, but for the tamer Shearwaters, that were always the first to gobble up any bait near the boat, before the Jaeger, hovering off in distrust, could make up his mind to venture. This time we had towed out a little skiff, and, as it was quite calm, I rowed off in it from the vessel, hoping that in this way I might approach them. The Petrels came up very close, but the Jaegers, though they flew rather low over my head, would not come down near, where I wanted theta 117 AMONG THE WaTER-Fowl. The specially interesting feature of this influx of Jaegers was the variety of their plumages. It seemed as though there were no two individuals alike. ‘This was not altogether a surprise to me, as the fishermen the day before had told me that there was an unusual flight of “ Jiddies.”” ‘The Pomarine Jaeger, the largest species, is here usually the com- monest, and was certainly so on the present occasion. A smaller species, the Parasitic Jaeger, was about half as numerous. I did not see any of the Long- Tailed Jaeger, which, according to my experience, is far scarcer than these two, only scattering ones appearing now and then. Each “of these species is found to assume ya number of types of plumage, and even experts are considerably at sea regarding their sequence. As the birds now flew about the boat, some had long tails, some short ones; some had white breasts, others dark; some were in light plumage, some in a phase of a sooty color; some were marked, others plain; some were barred, others speckled, and so on, this being true of both kinds. There is a great deal here to learn. I would suggest that some competent naturalict go out there with the fisher- men, catch a number of Jaegers, and watch their feather-changes in captivity. Such an experiment would furnish a very instructive chapter in orni- thology, could it be carried out. Better in some respects than the waters of Cape Cod for observing the habits of the Ocean Wan- derers and other water-birds are those off Cape 118 OcEAN WANDERERS Sable, Nova Scotia. ‘Though more difficult of access, there is no harbour-bar to cross. Perhaps the Shearwaters keep off-shore, for I have not found as many of them there as at Chatham ; but it is a fine place for the Jaegers. The fishing-boats there are mostly poor, frail craft, such as no Chatham fisher- man would tolerate, yet their owners venture in them well off the land. During September and October the Jaegers become specially abundant, congregating in localities on the ocean where the bait-fish are plenty. Late one September I made a vigorous effort to see these birds at their best, and sailed out early one morning, with two Golieh ei to the cod-grounds. Pomarine and Parasitic Jaegers were fairly common, but the wind soon breezed up so that, in the crank little boat, the fishermen were afraid for their lives, and put back to land. It was a fine sight to see the powerful birds, exulting in their strength, patrol the tossing ocean and exact from it tribute. The next day was cloudy, with a good breeze, the last of my stay. I hired a larger and better boat, and put to sea after the Jaegers. We saw a few flying to the southward, but, though we sailed well out to sea, and up and down the coast, we failed to reach their real haunts. When farthest to the southward, we noticed the masts of a fishing-fleet in the distance. And when at night this fleet made port for shelter from the approaching storm, and one of the men told me what he had seen that day, I felt angry with myself for my obtuseness. The fleet of schooners were bunched together on a shoal twelve miles southeast of Cape Sable, catching and 119 AMONG THE WATER-FOWL dressing fish. Around them, feasting on the refuse, were literally thousands of Jaegers, or *‘ Sea-Hens,” as he called them. They kept coming from all directions throughout the day,—of all sorts and sizes. What a sight it must have been! The few birds flying towards the fleet would be suggestion enough now as to where to go. But it was too late for after-thoughts. Next day, with the first snow in the air, and a furious, biting north wind, I said farewell to the haunts of the Jaegers. There is another class of birds that, during their stay with us, at any rate, deserve to be included among the Ocean Windies. ,—the little Phalaropes. They are classed among ibe wading-birds, and resemble closely small Sandpipers; but in their habits they are quite unique. In their marital ways they are said to reverse the ordinary course of Nature, the females doing the courting, and the males attending to the household duties, such as incubation. One species, the Wilson’s, of which I shall tell in another chapter, breeds on the western prairies. ‘Iwo others, the Northern and the Red Phalaropes, breed in the far north, and occur along the Atlantic coast in spring and fall as migrants. Away out at sea, often far out of sight of land, we find them at eigie seasons in flocks flying about with twittering notes, just like flocks of Sandpipers, but alighting on the water like genuine water-fowl. They show better their ‘“ wadership” when they meet with areas of drift-weed, and, settling down upon it in large numbers, run nimbly about, seeking their food, of small marine creatures. Off Cape Cod I have been accustomed to see 120 OcEAN WANDERERS occasional flocks of Phalaropes, or ‘“ Whale-birds,”’ as the fishermen there call them, during August. nce. im ithe middle; of func, l*met a flock, of twenty Northern Phalaropes just off Matinicus Rock. But I never had any conception of the abundance of these pretty birds in their migrations until one August, off Cape Sable. The fishermen told me that Hags, Sea-Hens and Mother Carey’s Chickens were less plentiful than usual that season, having followed the fish elsewhere, but there were <¢ millions of ‘ Sea-Geese.’’’ From their description I knew that these latter were Phalaropes, and I took an early opportunity to pay them a visit. ' I was fortunate in securing passage on a sub- stantial little eleven-ton schooner, manned by a father and two or three stout sons. It was a nice day with a light breeze, most favourable for the work in hand. We glided from the sandy cove with its wharf and fish-houses, and by the time that the white beaches and green spruce-tracts were becoming dim in the distance, seeming to slide away from us, rather than we from them, we were in the haunts of the Phalaropes. Flocks of them began to fly by, and then we passed flocks in the water, some- times quietly dressing their beautifully smooth plumage, or splashing and frolicking on the smooth ocean surface. Every bunch or patch of drift-weed supported all the Phalaropes it would hold. We began our fishing when the land was but dimly in sight. All around us the Phalaropes were flying and sporting, always in flocks of half a dozen or more. Each tiny bird, when at rest, rode lightly and gracefully upon the water, and I was reminded I2] AMONG THE WaTER-Fow LL of squadrons of miniature ships riding at anchor in some harbour. At length I gave up fishing, and rowed off from the vessel in the heavy keel tender, right among the birds that would hardly get out of my way, so tame were they. I think I had not realized how many there were till I came to an almost solid mass of them that covered acres of water. It seemed that such a flock would certainly be shy. Not so; as I rowed toward them they hardly deigned to notice me, and when I was very close, instead of flying, they merely swam to one side, opening up a sort of lane through their ranks, through which I rowed, after which they simply closed up again. Being so near them, I was able to learn accur- ately what species were represented in this host. Nearly all proved to be the Northern Phalarope, the smallest kind, but there were a few of the Red Phalarope,—a slightly larger and plumper bird,— scattered through their ranks. Some of these had still a few ruddy feathers in the breast, the last remnants of the summer plumage; but most of them were now white-breasted, and bluish gray on the back. At a distance it was not easy to dis- tinguish the two kinds apart by colour alone. The fishermen had told me that for the last two weeks they had not seen any more of the red-breasted ones. They did not know that this was simply due to the moult, and that the birds were really there all the time. So much interested was I in the Phalaropes that I failed to observe the approach of a Nova Scotia fog. The first thing I knew I had lost the vessel. 122 OcEAN WANDERERS At length I saw through the haze what I took to be the right one. After a short row against the tide and an increasing wind, just as I was almost within hail it squared away and left me. Then I took another course, and, after nearly an hour’s futile effort, had begun to suonder what my chances were of being able to row that heavy craft against the wind to the distant invisible shore, without food or water, when the familiar schooner loomed up not far away, and I was far from sorry to set foot again upon her ancient and slimy deck. ‘Though I had a camera with me on this trip, it was before the days when I realized its value as an adjunct to bird-study. I would give a good deal now to be off there again among that assemblage of birds, properly equipped. Early the next morning the fog was very dense on shore, and I found quite a few of the Phalaropes, in small groups, on the marshes, feeding like the other numerous waders, at the edges of the pools. They were gone, though, as soon as the fog lifted. The fishermen say that this is about the only occasion when they ordinarily come to land. One morning, early in this same August, before I had arrived, the fog was especially dense, and at day- break they encountered very large numbers of the little things on the flats, as they were starting for the day’s fishing. The birds departed as soon as it was fairly light. Occasionally great numbers of Phal- aropes are reported on the New England coast, but I have been off there hundreds of times, in various years, only to see comparatively small, scattering Hocks. Hence I incline to the opinion that, in the 123 AMONG THE WaTER-FowL fall flight, like the Golden Plover, most of the Phalaropes, after leaving Nova Scotia, pass so far off the coast that we seldom encounter the main body of the migration. The only species described in this chapter with whose breeding habits I am, or am likely to be, familiar, is Leach’s Petrel. The nesting of most Shearwaters is practically unknown to science, and upon that of the Jaegers, except in northern Europe, only arctic explorers can enlighten us. But many of the islands off Maine and Nova Scotia have been adopted by multitudes of Leach’s Petrel as their summer home. At different times, from Matinicus to the Magdalen Islands, I have examined their rat-like burrows. Seal Island, off southern Nova Scotia, is a wonderful Petrel-resort. There I have noticed a variation on their usual habit, in that they enter the spruce woods, and dig their burrows under the roots of the trees. It is about the last place in the world that one would naturally search for a bird that loves a free, wander- ing life over the billows,—a damp, dark hole under- ground, and in the midst of a forest. But these extremes in habits make bird-study all the more . fascinating. A more typical breeding-place is some such spot as another Seal Island,—this one off the coast of Maine. I was, with a friend, at Matinicus Island. Learning of this remarkable resort of the Petrels, only seven miles away, we engaged a schooner to carry us there, leave us for the day, and take us off 124 OcEAN WANDERERS at night. It was Bunker Hill Day, splendid weather, and a fine, fair breeze. We got an early start, and in three-quarters of an hour, sailing “ wing-a-wing,’ we were off the island, a grim- looking rock, covered with green-sward on top, a good half-mile long, and rather narrow. One of the crew rowed us ashore on the less precipitous western side. Even there it was not much sheltered, as the mainland was twenty miles away, and even in calm weather the sea broke not a little on the rocks. However, watching our chance, we managed to scramble out on a shelving ledge, immediately after which the retreating wave carried back the boat. The schooner departed for the fishing ground, while we scrambled up the rocks and bank to the summit of the island. No sooner had we reached the turf than [ noticed a little burrow, and my friend at the same moment another, and there they were all around us. Selecting one, I pulled up the sod with my hands. The hole did not go straight down, but ran along just below the roots of the grass, for about a couple of feet. Then it broadened out into a sort of pocket, in which, on a slight lining of grass and feathers, sat a Leach’s Petrel on a single white egg. The bird seemed dazed by the sudden glare of day, and did not make any effort to escape. When I took hold of it, it made just the least bit of a struggle, and squirted out from its nostrils on my hands a few drops of yellowish oil that gave forth a peculiar, disagreeable odor. When I opened my hand, it did not make any attempt to fly off. When placed on the ground, it merely squatted, but 125 AMONG THE WaTER-Fow:i presently arose to a crouching attitude, and ran back into what was left of the hole. Then I gave it a toss into the air, and, after a little zigzag meander- ing over the grass and rocks, it seemed to get its bearings, flew down in its usual irregular manner to the water, and disappeared off to sea, without show- ing any inclination to return to the nest, nor did it, that we could see, during the day. We dug out a number of other burrows till we had seen enough to generalize the observations a little. We did not find more than one egg in any nest, and I do not know that any such instance has ever been recorded. Sometimes there were two birds in a burrow, but in these cases the egg had not been laid. ‘Two birds that I took in the act of incubation from different nests and kept as speci- mens proved to be males. Some observers have thought that the male usually incubates, but others are said to have found birds of either sex indiffer- ently thus engaged. The puzzle is what becomes of the other partner. Practically never is*a; Petrel to. be seensby, day about the breeding-grounds. At night, how- ever, the Petrels become active and noisy, twittering constantly, and flying to and fro from the sea. We cannot assume that the other is in some hole near by, for all the birds found are incubating. The fact also that the males incubate precludes the possibility of their deserting their mates, as is the case with the Ducks. Until something to the contrary is shown, we evidently must be content with the old theory that one bird of each pair flies out to sea during the night, leaving the other on 126 OcEAN WANDERERS duty till its return after the shadows have again fallen, either to bring food and again depart, or else to take its turn on the nest and let its mate go foraging. At the further end of the island we had noticed a shanty, and after awhile we went to it. A lone and bold fisherman had ensconced himself with his family on lonely Seal Island for the season, where he was practically monarch of all he surveyed. He told us that he remained there lobstering and fishing until about December. As he told of all the wild fowl he saw and shot during the fall, I almost envied him, except for his inability to view his advantages save from the culinary standpoint. Every bird was of interest only as it was good to eat. In this connection he “‘ drew the line’”’ on the Petrels. But he had a big Newfoundland dog that thought otherwise. ‘The owner told us that the animal got his own living unaided, Petrels forming his chief provision. Practically the whole island was bur- rowed full of them, and, even while we were conversing, the dog would now and then paw out a burrow and eat a poor Petrel, feathers and all, with the egg for an appetizer! The whole island smelt of Petrels,—that peculiar, unmistakable odour. One would think that any vessel, passing anywhere to leeward of Seal Island, would get a whiff from that great hatching-coop of Mother Carey’s Chickens. We passed the day very pleasantly, exploring caverns, hunting the cliffs on the seaward side for the nests of the Black Guillemot, inspecting also nests of Savanna Sparrows, Spotted Sandpipers, and also one of a pair of Barn Swallows, the latter built 127 AMONG THE WaTeER-FowL on to the rock im a sort “of: open cave part way down the side of a deep rift,—a case of reversion to the original habit of the species. At sunset we mounted up on the highest part of the island, and strained our eyes to catch sight of the schooner. It began to get chilly, and our prospects seemed excellent for an involuntary night-study of the Petrels. ~ But. -at.Tast; sail sho! In’ half *ant@heme the vessel anchored off the island, and we were presently sailing back to Matinicus under the silver rays of the moon. At this visit the Petrels had just laid their eggs. Most of my other trips to their breeding-grounds have been also at the laying-time, and I should never have known the quaintness of the young Petrels, ex- cept for one delightful morning on Seal Island, Nova Scotia. ‘This was in early September. From nearly every burrow into which I inserted my arm,— whether in pasture, woods or gravel-bank,—I drew cut a young Petrel. Some were leotaplereiy feathered, and, but = the down that still clung to the ave of the feathers, they might have bee taken for adults. Others could not boast a single real feather, yet were warmly clad in a dense gray down, a ieee lighter in colour than the regular plumage. Between thesevextremes there .were all” stages.” But “every: youngster that I examined was fatter and heavier than an adult. There was not a parent with the young in any of the nests that we examined. ‘The keeper of the light said that the old birds flew in at night and fed the young. That they performed this duty well was evident enough. I could not but wonder, though, how late it would be in the 128 OcEAN WANDERERS season before the young were all able to leave the nests. Probably it is this tardiness that makes some of the fishermen believe that the Petrels hibernate in these burrows, and come forth in the spring sound and strong. But the Ocean Wanderers need not our theor- izing or assistance; they are a law unto themselves. We cannot hope to follow them in all their devious and trackless wanderings. Storms that destroy us are to them of little moment. For decades yet they will seek out their arctic and antarctic solitudes beyond our reach and ken. Yet though they regard us not, we shall know more of these wild, free roving creatures the more that we, like them, love to be “ Rocked in the cradle of the deep.” 129 PAIROh, oly? THE. WHITE-WINGED SFGk ED (Gulls and Terns) ONE beautiful summer morning, awaking to view again the splendid panorama of land and sea that is spread out before the bluffs of Manomet, we saw that during the night the mackerel- fleet had arrived. The sea for miles around was dotted with the white sails of the schooners, about forty being in sight. With the gentle breeze they were tacking back and forth, each with its group of keen-eyed fishermen on deck. Now and then an agitated appearance at some spot on the ocean surface betokened the rising of a school of macke- rel. At once we would see seine-boats hurriedly launched, and rowed out by their crews to surround the wary fish. For two days the fleet remained, making a scene of beauty and activity long to be remembered. Then we awoke to find that they had departed as suddenly as they had come, taking with them the charm that their presence had added to the surroundings. But there remained another white-winged fleet. Beautiful Terns were flitting over the sparkling water, and plunging headlong into it after an hum- bler finny prey. Before long the large white Gulls would come from the north, and patrol these shores in winter, when the Terns had sought a warmer cliime. There is no class of birds more beautiful, 130 THe WuHitTE-WINGED FLEET more interesting, more picturesque than these ex- quisite snowy-plumaged creatures, most of them pearly-mantled, that grace our lake and ocean GULL IN FLIGHT — PROBABLY THE WESTERN GULL. A WING STUDY BY OTTO VON BARGEN shores. With easy flight they winnow the air, wheeling and circling even to the clouds. Some dart headlong to surprise the wary fish; others float down like snow- flakes to take what the sea has 131 AMONG THE WaTeER FowL cast up for them. Again, they gather together, either in buoyant flocks upon the water, or to dress their spotless plumage upon the strand. The loss would be unutterable were this fleet to be lost in the gale of fashion upon the cruel rocks of a selfish and senseless millinery decree. Social in disposition, it is the universal habit of these dainty creatures to resort together in large colonies at the nesting-season for the rearing of their young; and of all the picturesque spots on earth, I place in. very high rank certain of these breeding-colonies. One there is in Nova Scotia, which seems to me to be particularly beautiful. With two companions, I stood one clear, calm morning of early ‘September, upon a wharf sat Clarke’s Harbor, Cape Sable Island, listening: te the tale of woe of our would-be fisherman-skipper, as he portrayed the impossibility of reaching Seal Island, twenty miles out to sea, against strong head tides, and with what little wind there was also con- trary. This was our last chance to make the trip, and I could not bear to abandon it. So, after the prophet of evil had departed, I proposed that we start off without him in the twenty-three-foot sloop. It was slow work, but at length we sighted the rocky shores and spruce-grown area; and by sundown the sloop was anchored off a cove, and we were receiving the royal hospitality of kind-hearted John Crowell, the light-house keeper. Before sunrise next morning we were in the light-house tower. The cold, dark sea, foam-flecked, spread out beyond, the shores of Nova Scotia dimly visible to the northeast. Before us stretched the 132 EEG oN INGED. OF LEST dark, spruce-covered island, spectacle-shaped, the two lobes connected by a narrow bar. Dotted all over the spruces were snowy Herring Gulls perched upon their tops; many others were already a-wing, flying out to sea to feed, squealing and cackling incessantly. ‘The sky was clear, and the east already rosy red, changing its hues moment by moment, as the sun approached the horizon. All at once the glowing orb seemed to fairly bound from the deep, and instantly the whole scene was wonder- ously transformed. The ocean, recently so dark, now glittered and sparkled as with myriad dia- monds; the spruces reddened under their baptism Oeekice the Galilisy were gleams of living radiance. From the spruces ex- tended a long line of them in flight, going a mile or more out to some shoal. swat ex, where a large flock were rid- ing at anchor, acl and others were WESTERN GULLS. BY OTTO VON BARGEN hovering over schools of fish. ‘‘ Devil’s Limb,’’ the grim rock of Cormorant-resort to the westward, looked less forbidding in the glad sunshine that warmed up its wet, ragged sides into the semblance Otv-ae Smile: Lal Gs oS) AMONG THE WATER FowL We lingered awhile, spell-bound at the vision, then we started out with the keeper to see the bird-wonders at closer range. Black Guillemots bred abundantly in the crevices under the loose rocks that were piled up on the shores by the fury of the gales. The breeding-season was over, but some still sunned themselves on the rocks, or were swimming or diving off-shore. Crossing the sand- bar, where Yellowlegs, Turnstones, and Sandpipers fed, we inspected some of the abounding Petrels’ burrows, and then turned our attention to the great colony of the island, that of the Herring Gulls. The usual custom of this species is to select or make a hollow in the ground, and build around it a nest of grass, feathers, and seaweed; but some- times—on account of persecution, it is probable — tieyotake to the trees So it was \here, ‘tova darce extent. Nearly all the nests were in the woods. Some of them were placed at the foot of trees, or under spreading spruce saplings, but most of them were built in the tops of the spruces which grew usually only about twenty or twenty-five feet in height. When the nests were on the ground they were generally rather slight affairs, but on the trees they were very bulky platforms. The Gulls had brought load after load of grass and seaweed, till the mass was often large and firm enough to hold aman. At any rate some of them held me very comfortably while I gazed around over the floor-like top of the forest, and watched the Gulls wheeling about in the air. I could almost imagine how it felt to be a young Gull. Some of the nests were built in the upper crotch of the trees, others on 134 THe WHitTE-WINGED FLEET the firm, spreading tops that grew into an almost solid platform. By September the breeding season is nominally over, but on account of the pillaging of nests by fishermen, there were still a considerable number of the young Gulls: “not - yet able to fly. They had all left the nests, having found some way, probably with the) pane nits? hedipy ote die; scending to the ground. It was a comical sight, those odd, mot- ANOTHER STUDY OF THE WESTERN GULL tle d ) pat tl y BY OTTO VON BARGEN downy partly ) These studies were made in San Francisco harbor, where the large Gulls,— as a class ordinarly very wary,— have become, fledged, we b = through protection, almost fearless of man, especially the imma- ture individuals, which the photographs represent. f fone) t e d crea- tures, as large as pullets, that were wandering about in the woods everywhere, pattering over the spruce- needle carpet, or else trying to hide by squatting under some bush or thick low growth. All the eggs were hatched that would do so, but now and then we found an addled one in the nest, a great dark drab affair, heavily spotted with black, larger than a hen’s egg. I was struck with the similarity of the color and markings of the egg and of the young Gulls. The smaller youngsters looked for all the world like eggs with stilts stuck into them below, and a neck 135 AMONG THE WATER FOWL inserted on the end. And how ridiculously those seeming eggs lying on the ground would suddenly arise and scurry off at such a rate that one had to be spry to catch them! The colors blend perfectly with their usual surroundings on a pebbly shore, and this is the protection that the plan of Nature affords to all young birds of this class. Long before they become white, they-can care for themselves. A great many of the young Gulls had taken to wing, and large numbers of both dark, spotted young and snowy-plumaged parents everywhere we went were hovering overhead, often not more than fifty feet above us. Nor were they silent observers of our intrusion, for of all the noisy places on earth I do not know of anything that can equal a Gull- colony. Each bird seems to consider it a matter of Gull-morality to scream at regular intervals of not more than two seconds. When several hun- dreds, or thousands, are thus engaged, it would be deaf ears indeed that were not almost overpowered with the volume of sound. The first Herring Gull colony that I ever saw was on Great Duck Island, Maine. In a dense fog we beat to it from Mount Desert, and went ashore in the tender. The Gulls bred mostly on the ground here, but some had taken to the trees. This was early July, and the nests, probably having been robbed, still had eggs. For years I have loved to visit a fine colony of the Herring Gull on ‘‘No Man’s Land,’’ a lonely island far off the shores of Maine. Though the name truly represents its wildness, it is not accu- fate at the present time, for the island is under 136 re Ware - WINGED FLEET human ownership, and the Gulls,—as now are the Gulls and Terns on all the principal breeding- islands from Virginia to Maine,—are rigorously protected by law and by wardens. This is as it “ OTHERS PERCHED UPON THE SPRUCE-TREES.’’ HERRING GULLS, IN A MAINE ISLAND COLONY. BY W. L. BAILY should have been long before. ‘‘ No Man’s Land’’ is another of the picturesque, rugged, spruce-clad islands typical of this coast. As we approach it, we begin to see a horde of circling birds, hun- dreds of them gathered in groups on the rocks, and others perched upon the spruce-trees. Then, 137 AMONG THE WATER FowL running the’ tender up on a shelf of rock when the wave serves, all the thousand and more great Gulls hover screaming, or gather in groups on the dark trees, making a wonderful picture. Up above the rocks there is an area of pasture where graze a flock of sheep, which have been ferried over here for the season to live and multiply,—if they can. Some fail, as their dead bodies show, and the Ravens have plenty of wool with which to line their nests. All over the pasture; in allsortsa places, are the nests of the Gulls, deeply hollowed beds of seaweed, some quite slight, others substan- tial. Now we come upon one under a low spruce bush, then be- sidé- a. rock, Jan boldly out in the open. Then we extend our ram- ble into™ tne spruce-woods, and here _ they are just the same, “ARE THE NESTS OF THE GULLS.” NEST OF HER- all about on the RING GULL, MAINE. BY A. C. BENT ground among the trees. But, strangely enough, on this island I have never yet found a nest on a tree, though I know that the birds have been considerably dis- turbed by the fishermen. Most of the nests, un- less marauders have been there, contain three eggs; often there are but two, and now and then four. They vary so greatly in ground-color and markings that it is fascinating to go all over the island and look at every nest that we can find. I recall one 138 Wie. WHttre-VWINGED FLEET nest that had two very dark eggs, much the color @enlioons :) Not tar? from it was’ a set of three, two of which, save for a few sparse spots, were pale bluish green. Between these types there are almost endless variations. Not many miles from here is Matinicus Rock, notable for its great colony of Arctic Terns. This island has not the beauty that the spruces lend to = No Man’s Iband.”’: Its wery aspect: is of desola= tion, and a reminder of the terrors of the forces of Nature as displayed in wind and storm. Even before we approach close enough to see the birds, the ‘keen ear can detect above the roarof the surt that monotone into which the thousands of grating Wern-eries, unite at~ that: distance) 1 hens we can see them in the air, and all over the old sea-beat rocks, literally thousands of them. At the time of my last visit, several years ago, I should say that there were from three to five thousand Terns, and the number is said to be increasing, now that the keeper of the light has been made a game-warden, and depredations upon them have largely ceased. The keepers are very hospitable toward well- disposed people, and I have passed some very pleas- ant days there with them, studying the habits of the birds and looking at their eggs. It would hardly be correct to speak of nests, for few of them make what could by any charity be called such. Very many of the Terns lay on the bare rock, preferring, however, some little nook where a small quantity of soil or debris has found lodgement. Here and £39 AMONG THE WaTER Fow tL there a little vegetation has taken hold,—a few spears of grass, or a little clump of weeds. A slight hol- low in such a place serves very well for a nest, and the addition of a few stems of grass or seaweed tucked around it for a rim, answers to giver ame owner the distinction of a wealthy house-owner and tax - payer. Whether the distinction will ordinarily hold or not,” L cannot! say, but