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AMONG THE
WATER-FOWL

HERBERT K. JOB

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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

HERBERT K. JOB

PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY PHOTOGRAPHS FROM NATURE,
MOSTLY BY THE AUTHOR

NEW YORK

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO.
1903

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & Co.

Published May, 1902

7 //(,. I

TO MY WiPE

"WHO FIRST INVEIGLED ME INTO USING THE CAMERA
THIS VOLUME !S AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED

PREFACE

IT 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-

vii

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,

Vlll

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 1 2
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

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,
C. S. Day, Owen Durfee, Rev. C. J. Young, W.
L. Baily/W. H. Fisher and H. A. Shaw.

HERBERT K. JOB.

Kent, Connecticut, March, 1902.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART I.— THE SUBMERGED TENTH
Grebes and Loons

PAGES

Among Colonies of the American Eared Grebe .... 1-14

The Great City of the Western Grebe ..... 15-27

Holboell's, Horned and Pied-billed Grebes .... 27-33

Grebes Breeding in the East ; their habits in autumn and winter 33-39

Loons on Sea and Lake ........ 39-43 •

The Breeding-haunts of the Loons ...... 4-3~49

PART II.— MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS
Gannets, Guillemots, Auks, Puffins, Kittiwakes, etc.

Glimpses of the Magdalen Islands ...... 50-52

The Bird Rocks 53-64

Second Day on Great Bird Rock ...... 64-73

Third Day, and the Trip to North Bird Rock .... 73-80

Last Observations on the Rock ...... 81-83

Further Researches on Other Islands of the Magdalen Group . 83-86

Other Cliff-Dwellers Breeding on the Coast of Maine . . 86-90

After the Breeding Season ; winter along the coast . . . 91-96

PART III.— OCEAN WANDERERS

Shearwaters, Jaegers or Skuas, Petrels, Phalaropes

Summer Ocean Birds off Cape Cod ...... 97-107

Photographing the Ocean Wanderers . 107-114

CONTENTS

PAGES

Jaeger Days .......... 115-120

Among the Phalaropes ........ 120-124.

The Nesting of the Ocean Wanderers ; visits to the breeding-
grounds of Leach's Petrel ....... 124-129

PART IV.— THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

Gulls and Terns

Visits to Herring Gull Islands along the Atlantic Coast . . 130—139
Tern Colonies and Habits in the East ..... 139-144
Other Gulls on the Eastern Coasts ...... 144-146

The "Enchanted Isles," North Dakota; colonies of Double-
crested Cormorants, Ring-billed Gulls and Common Terns 146-157

A Great Colony of the Franklin's Rosy Gull ; breeding and other

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 ..... 206-213

Habits of the Wild-Fowl in Southern New England after the
Nesting Season ; gunning-stands and the fowl that visit the
ponds .......... 213-218

Sea-coast Fowl ; habits, modes of capture, migrations . . 218-224

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAUH

Franklin's Rosy Gulls in flight. Cover picture.

Herring Gull approaching nest (x 2) . . . Frontispiece

Mounted Loons and Grebes ....... 2

American Eared Grebe Colony ...... 7

Other nests of the Eared Grebes . . . . . .10

Franklin's Rosy Gull eating Eared Grebe's Eggs . . .14
Eared Grebe's by their nests . . . . . . .16

Nest of Western Grebe . . . . . . . 17

A Western Grebe-colony scene . . . . . .19

A Western Grebe 20

A group of Eared Grebes (x i-.V) . . . . . . 22

A Western Grebe (x2) ........ 23

Another Western Grebe (x2) 25

Still another Western Grebe (x 3) . . . . .26

Nest of Holboell's Grebe 28

Nest of Pied-billed Grebe, or Dabchick ..... 30

Covered nest of the Dabchick . . . . . . -31

Nest and young of Horned Grebe . . . . . .34

Nest and eggs of Horned Grebe . . . . . -35

Floating nest of Loon . . . . . . . .43

Nest of Loon on stony shore ....... 45

Site of preceding Loon's nest ....... 46

Nest of Loon out in lake 47

Another view of preceding ....... 48

View of Great Bird Rock 50

Murres and Kittiwakes from the crate ... .54

The city of the birds 56

View of North Bird Rock from top of Great Bird Rock . . 57

xiii

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Another cliff view . . . . . . . . .58

A group of Gannets . . . . . . . -59

Gannet and Murres incubating (x 2) . . . .60

Nesting-site of Razor-billed Auk . . . . . .61

Eggs of Murres as laid on ledge . . . . . .62

A Gannet colony ... ..... 63

A Puffin sitting for his portrait (x 4) . . . . -67

Another Puffin portrait (x 4) . . . . . .68

Razor-billed Auks at close range (x i-^-) . . . . .69

Group of Murres, Puffins and Razor-billed Auk . . -7°
The Pillar, or Pinnacle, North Bird Rock . . . .74

Nest of Gannet, North Bird Rock . . . . . -75

An incubating Briinnich's Murre . . . . . 77

Common Murres on their eggs (x 3) . . . .78

Kittiwakes nesting (x ii) . . . • . . . - 79
Gannets, Murres and Kittiwakes on the lower ledges . . 80

The home of the Ocean Wanderers 97

A pair of Greater Shearwaters . . . . 108

Two Greater Shearwaters close to vessel • . . . .109

The Greater Shearwaters, a hungry horde . . . . 1 1 1

Wilson's Petrels, or " Mother Carey's Chicken's" . . .114
Sooty and Greater Shearwaters . . . . . .116

Wing-study of Western Gull . . . . . . 131

Western Gulls in Flight 133

Another study of Western Gulls . . . . . 135

Herring Gulls alighting on trees 137

Nest of Herring Gull 138

Slovenly nest of Common Tern . . . . . .142

Well-built nest of Common Tern . . . . . .143

Nest of Least Tern . . . . . . . .144

Nest of Ring-billed Gull 148

Nests of Double-crested Cormorants . . . . .149

xiv

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Ring-billed Gulls by their nests . . . . . -151

Ring-billed Gull incubating . . . . . . 152

Ring-billed Gulls on Rocks . . . • . . 153

Young Common Tern . . . . . . 155

Common Tern coming to her eggs . . , . . .156
The same Tern incubating . . . . . . .156

Young Ring-billed Gull . . . . . . . -157

Franklin's Rosy Gull colony . . . . . . .160

Nest of Franklin's Gull . . . . . . .161

Pair of Franklin's Gulls on their nest . . . . .162

Scene in Franklin's Gull colony . . . . . .164

Franklin's Gull and chick . . . . . . .165

Nest of Black Tern 166

Typical Dakota slough 173

Nest of Canvasback . . . . . . . .176

Nest of Canada Goose . . . . . . . .178

A Mallard drake 181

Nest of Mallard drake 182

Nest of Redhead 183

Another view of Mallard drake . . . . . .184

Nesting-site of Canvasback . . . . . . .188

Nest of Lesser Scaup Duck . . . . . . .192

Nest of White-winged Scoter . . . . . . 193

A Scoter detained by her nest 195

Nesting-site of American Golden-eye . . . . .197

Golden-eye's nest in stub . . . . . . .198

Young Shovelers in their nest . . . . . .202

Nest of Ruddy Duck . . , 203

Nest of Redhead . . . . . . . . .204

The same nest, showing surroundings . . . . .204

Nest of Canvasback with egg of Ruddy Duck . . . 205
A Magdalen Islands' morass where Ducks breed . . .207

*tv

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Nest of Dusky Duck ....... 208

Nest of Greater Scaup Duck 209

Nest of Blue-winged Teal 210

Another nest of Dusky Duck 2I2

Live Duck-decoys, from a gunning stand . . . .216
Young Dusky Duck . . . . . o . .224

xvi

INDEX

PAGK

Auk, Little 95

Razor-billed . 51, 53, 55, 59, 61, 69, 72, 76, 92, 93, 95

Badger .... I

Baldpate ..... 177, 189, 190, 193, 201, 215

Bittern, American . 82, 166
Blue-bill, (See Scaup Duck)

Brant ... . 218, 219

Buffalo ... i

Bufflehead . 218, 220

Burgomaster, (See Glaucus Gull)

Canvasback . 173, 176, 177, 186-188, 191, 196, 202-206 215

Cod .... 94, 98

Coot, American 2, 6, 161, 166, 173, 177

Butter-billed ... .222

Gray ... .222

Skunk-head .222

White-winged .... .222

Cormorant . . . . . • • • • J33

Common ...... -83

Double-crested . 51, 83-84, 86, 91, 148-15°. T52> I7S^ I93
Coyote .... ...

Crane, Sandhill ... .172

Crossbill, White-winged

Crow 87

Cuckoo, Black-billed ... 82
Dabchick, (See Pied-billed Grebe)

Dog-fish 94

Dovekie, (See Little Auk)

Duck .... 1,2,4,5,39,71,126,166,170-224

Black, (See Dusky)

Dusky .... 207,208,212-213,215,223

Greater Scaup .... 177, i9J> 207> 209> 2I7

INDEX

PAGI

Duck, Harlequin . . . . . . . .218

Lesser Scaup . . 177, 189-193, 201-202, 206, 217

Long-tailed, (See Oldsquaw)

Ring-necked Scaup . . . 186, 191, 201, 206, 217
Ruddy . . . 177, 191, 194, 196, 202-206, 215

Scaup ...... 208, 210, 221, 223

Sea, ( See American Eider)

Sea Ducks . . . . . . . 217, 221

Eider, American . . . . 71, 191, 211, 21 8, 221, 2 23

King 218

Flicker .......... 29

Gadwall . . . 177-178, 190, 192-193, 201-202, 206,215
Gannet . 53, 55-60, 62-63, 65> 69> 7°> 72-?5> 77> 8o> 92

Godwit, Great Marbled . . . . . . .172

Golden-eye, American 185, 197-200, 206, 210, 218, 220—221, 223
Barrow's . . . . . . . .218

Goosander, (See American Merganser)

Goose ...... 91, 170, 217-218, 221

Canada . . . 174-175, 178-180, 201, 214-215

Snowy . . . . . . . . .174

Gopher .......... i

Grackle, Bronzed . . . . . . . . 29

Grebe ........ 1-39, 166, 196

American Eared . . . 4-18, 21-22, 24, 28, 177

Holboell's 2, 28-30, 35, 38

Horned . . 30-3.5, 38-39, 177

Pied-billed . 2, 30-32, 35-37, 173, 177

Western . . 17-27, 33

Grouse, Pinnated ........ i

Guillemot, Black 50, 84-90, 127, 134

Gull 65, 84, 92, 94, 100, 115-117, 130, 135, 140, 144, 146, 162

Gull, Bonaparte's . . . . . 115, 143-145. 163

Burgomaster, (See Glaucus)

Franklin's 14, 157-126

Glaucus . . . . . . 142, 144-145

Great Black-backed . . . . . 142, 144-145

Herring 133-138, 142, i44-i45> *49
Laughing 144

INDEX

PAGE

Gull, Minister, (See Great Black-backed)

Ring-billed . . . 145-157, 162, 177, 189, 191

Turkey, (See Great Black-backed)

Western . 131, 133, 135

Haddock . . . . . . . . 94, 98

Hag, or Haglet, (See Shearwater)

Hake 94, 98

Hawk, Marsh . . . . . . . . .212

Red-tailed ...... .29

Sparrow . . . . . . . 30

Heron, Night ...... . . 166

Jack Rabbit i

Jaeger . . . . . . 101, 106, 115, 117-119

Long-tailed . . . . . . . .118

Parasitic ....... 118-119

Pomarine, ..... 100, no, 118—119

Jiddy, or Jiddy-hawk, (See Jaeger)

Kingbird . . . . . . . . . .192

Kittiwake . 53, 55, 59, 65, 71-72, 75-77, 79, 80, 94

Lark, Prairie Horned ........ i

Longspur .......... i

Loon . 39-49

Red-throated, or Pegging-awl . . . . 41-42

The, or Great, or Great Northern . . .2, 39-49
Mallard . 171, 177—178, 181, 184-185, 191, 196, 206, 208, 215

Martin, Purple 29

Meadowlark, Western ....... i

Merganser, American . . . . . . . 210, 218

Hooded ...... 200, 206, 210, 218

Red-breasted . . . 207-208, 210, 219, 221, 223

Mink 27

^ Mother Carey's Chickens, (See Petrel)

Murre, 50, 53, 55, 59, 61, 62, 65, 69, 72, 76-77, 80, 86, 92, 94

Briinnich's , 6o; 65, 93, 95-96

Common ........ 65, 78, 95

Ringed ......... 66

Muskrat ......... 24-25, 48

Noddy, (See Murre)

xix

INDEX

PAGE

Old-squaw ..... 206, 217, 219-221, 223

Oriole 4

Osprey . . . 85

Owl, Long-eared . . ., . . . . . 82

Parrot, Sea, (See Puffin)

Pelican, White 168-169

Petrel .... 101-102, 104-108, no, 113, 121, 134

Leach's . . 64, 72-73, 101-102, 104-106, 124-129

Stormy . . . . . . . . .102

Wilson's ..... 1 01-102, 1 08, 114, 117

Phalarope . . . . . . . . . 120-123

Northern ....... 120-132

Red . .... 120, 122

Wilson's 120

Pigeon, Sea, (See Black Guillemot)

Pintail . . . 171, 175-178, 189, 191-193, 206, 215

Plover 84

Golden . . . . . . . . .124

Puffin . 51, 53, 59, 60, 66-68, 72, 81, 89-91, 93, 95

Rail 1 66, 203

Raven, Northern 84-87, 138

Redhead . 177, 183, 185, 187, 191, 196, 202-204, 206, 211, 215
Robin .......... 4

Sandpiper 120, 134

Spotted . . . . . . . . .127

Sapsucker . . . . . . . . . . 29

Scoter ....... 206, 217, 221, 223

American, or Black . . . . . . 222-223

Surf . . . . . . . 217, 222-223

White-winged .... 189-195, 201-202, 206, 217

Sea Goose, (See Phalarope)

Sea Hen, (See Jaeger)

Shearwater . . 99-101, 105-106, no, 112-113, I][7> I21

Corey's 102-103

Greater .... 101-102, 108-112, 115-116

Sooty . .99, 103, 108, 115-116

Shelldrake, or Sheldrake, or Shell-duck, (See Merganser)
Shoveller, or Shoveler 171, 177, 183, 185, 191-192, 202, 206, 215

INDEX

PAGE

Skua, (See Jaeger)

Sparrow . . . ....... i

Savanna . . . , . . . . .127

Song ......... 30

White-throated . , . . . . . 30

Swallow, Barn ....... 29, 127-128

Tree ......... 29

Swan . . . . . „ . . . . .168

Teal ...,...«. 185, 206, 209
Blue-winged . . 171, 177, 180, 182, 185, 191, 209

Green-winged . . . . . . 172, 188, 191

Tern . 65, 84, 108, 115-117, 130, 135, 140, 544-145

Arctic ........ 139—142

Black ...... i, 161, 166-168

Common . . 140. 142, 153—156, 162, 189, 191, 208

Least o ....... 143-144

Roseate . . . . . . . . .143

Wilson's, (See Common)
Ting-tang, (See Holboell's Grebe)
Turnstone .......... 134

Yellowlegs . . . . . . . . . .134

Warbler, Mourning ........ 30

Water Witch, (See Grebe)

Whale, Fin-back 98

Whale-bird (See Phalarope) 121

Whistler, (See Golden-eye)
Widgeon, American, (See Baldpate)

Willet 171

Woodpecker, Downy . . . . . . . . 29

Wren, House ...... . . 29

xxi

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

THE SUBMERGED TENTH

(Grebes and Loons)

JHE 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 Buffalo 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 with 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.

THE SUBMERGED TENTH

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 — a great
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

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 — I had
found a breeding colony of the American Eared
Grebe. The mounds 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, untidy, 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. Sometimes she would fish out quite
a bunch at one haul. If possible, she kept at it

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 rested more or less on the
floating debris. 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 I
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

AMONG THE WATER-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.

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 rough,
wet ground, I managed to get afloat 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 head 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 flying
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 Grebe
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

THE SUBMERGED TENTH

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, andVno 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

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 waifs
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.

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 noticed 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

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 nests were — a
distance of about the length of my thread — planted
a pole firmly in the muddy bottom, tied the thread
to it, and then poled back to the camera with the
other end of the thread, which I fastened to the
shutter. In this way there 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 WATER-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

A FRANKLIN'S ROSY GULL EATING EGGS OF EARED GREBE, ON " EAST

SIDE." 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

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 Grebes 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-wearing toil.
After this the thread became almost hopelessly
tangled, and, despite long, exasperating effort, I
got only another 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

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.

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

A WESTERN GREBE IN A " CITY PARK

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, when 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 big Grebe thinks as it finds the
smaller home which it has usurped about sinking
under its weight.

There were no street-signs in 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

' NOW AND THEN A SMALL GROUP OF THE EARED GREBES
WOULD PADDLE ACROSS THE OPENING "

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 than a 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

ANOTHER WESTERN GREBE

STILL ANOTHER WESTERN GREEK
26

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 edge and plunged.
Muskrat houses were numerous, and it is hard 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, so
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-

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 birds
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.
Next day I
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 live 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,

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 rind. 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 long 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 the eggs 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 Crackles, Flickers, Downy Woodpeckers,
Sapsuckers, House Wrens and Red-tailed Hawks I

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

found to be the common species of the poplar
growth, with a few Sparrow Hawks, Song and
White-throated Sparrows, Mourning Warblers, 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 doubt,
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 . ,1

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

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. C. 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 ver common and well-known

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 Dabchick, 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

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
describe as yells. They 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.
And no less peculiar are the cries of the big
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 metallic quality, all in one key, like an
66 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

.34

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
floating nests out in the reeds, as usual. The
Dabchick also nests in the East — 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

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

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.

The Dabchick, as are other Grebes, is a
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 few
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

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

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 hurled the fish-
ing sloop onward, we overhauled a Horned Grebe
that made desperate efforts to fly. Rising, as do all
water-fowl, 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

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
has Loons 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 Massachusetts 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 bluffs
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,

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.

Here is yet another picture. The cold, gray
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 off "the Gurnet," at the entrance of old
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

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 thfe 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

AMONG THE WATER-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 difficult 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

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, rinding 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. C. 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

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

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
seemed very fond of it, and kept caressing it with
her bill with true maternal 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 Turtle
Mountains of North Dakota. 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 flew
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

THE SUBMERGED TENTH

kept low in the reeds, and now and then waved my
handkerchief ahove 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

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. The very first sight that greeted me, as I
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 mile in diameter, and the task of exam-
ining every foot of the margin was by no means an

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

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. J. 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

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 I should
have been too late. This it was, in particular,

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 of
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 together,
submerged, as usual — all but head and neck and 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.

PART II.

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

(Gannets, Guillemots, Auks, Puffins, Kittiwakes, 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

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

Puffins 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.

Inquiry 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 weekly
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.

AMONG THE WATER-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

MODERN 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 half a mile away.
On top 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 Puffins 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 rop 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

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

sea broke considerably around on the other side ;
but here, fortunately, where the only beach was, it
was under 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

- L*.

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

MODERN CLIFF-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
of sea-weed, built very cleverly and secur-ely 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 left 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 and
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

MODERN CLIFF-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

2 n

C K

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

to pass on, and scale down again and out over
the ocean. No bird seems ever to turn hack 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.
Puffins, Murres and Razor-bills often gathered in
groups 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 rl i g h t .
Now and then a
G a n n e t would
perch at the top,
but not for long,
and it was still
rarer to see a
Kittiwake in
such a position.
Both these spe-
cies, for the most
part, nested well
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,

I SOON NOTICED A GROUP OF GANNETS ONLY
ABOUT FIFTEEN FEET DOWN "

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

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 at
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

mrmmr**t south-east end

of the island,
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
burrows of the
Puffins, which
most often led

in under some flat rock. Groups of Puffins 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.

GANNET AND BRUNNICH S MURRES INCUBATING,
AS SEEN FROM ABOVE

MODERN 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

cliff. They all

left their eggs

pell - mell when

they saw that

we were really

coming down to

tnem. 1 lie SUCt- "NOW AXD THEN WE STARTED AN AUK FROM
den ness with ITS EGG IN SOME RECESS ... OF

THE ROCK

which they new

started one or two of the eggs rolling, and then
I saw a practical illustration of the wisdom of the
plan of Nature which has made the eggs of these
birds pear-shaped. Instead of rolling off the
ledge, they simply turned around on their axis,
only moving a few inches from their place. The
shells, too, are so hard that they can withstand a
great deal of rough usage, though occasionally I
noticed one that had been broken.

After inspecting these interesting sights, we

AMONG THE WATER-FOWT

climbed back to the top. My friend went off with
his camera, and the Keeper came along, offering to
pilot me about, taking me to the north side, the
highest part of the island. Here was another de-
scent by ladder, and the invitation was given me to
go down to a fine Gannet colony. I accepted it,
and followed my guide, not without considerable
trepidation, down two ladders, about half way down

the precipice.
Here it was nec-
essary to walk
along a narrow
ledge, barely
wide enough for
one's f e e t , for
about fifty yards
ere we could
reach a broad,
safe promontory
at the corner of
the island. At
first it seemed
like courting a

violent death to follow that strait and narrow
way along the verge of destruction ; but assured by
the Keeper, and steadying myself by his big, brawny
fist held out behind him, I passed safely through
the ordeal, and breathed more freely when we
reached the projection, where we could view two
sides of the cliff.

Upon the continuation of the same ledge,
around the corner, was a splendid array of Gannets
upon their nests. The nearest were only about ten

" A LINE OF MURRES EACH SITTING ON ITS
SINGLE EGG LAID ON THE BARE ROCK,
CLOSE IN UNDER THE OVER-
HANGING CLIFF "

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

feet off. A few of them flew, as I crawled out to
their nests, but the rest sat indifferent, knowing
that the ledge sloped so much that no man would
have the hardihood to reach them. The great
creatures were going and coming, some of them
bringing bunches of sea-weed in their bills to repair
their nests, perhaps pillaged of material by their
neighbours. Each had its single very large dirty
white egg, usually in a fair snug nest of weed,
but occasionally the egg was upon the bare rock.
Probably the lining was to be added later.

After supper I arranged quarters in the cellar
for developing plates, and went to work on those I
had exposed during the afternoon. As the darkness
gathered, even there indoors, I could hear one sort
of bird-note, all the other members of the colony
having apparently relapsed into silence and slumber
for the night. It was a funny little twittering or
chattering, that seemed to come from all directions,
and I recognized, from descriptions, the song — it
almost deserves that name — of the Leach's Petrel.
They evidently were flying about, and, after my
work was done, I went out to investigate. It was
pitch dark, however, and I could see nothing of
them, so I retired to secure needed rest. All
night, in dream, I seemed to be crawling out on
dangerous ledges after birds, and trying to save
myself from falling.

We were up early the next morning, and out
before breakfast for a look at the birds. The
weather was cloudy and windy, though there was

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

no fog — evidently no chance for photography.
Breakfast was over by seven, and then it did not
take long to return to the birds. It seemed very
strange to have so many of them so close about us,
and these not the common door-yard species, but
those which usually one must seek afar upon the
wild seas. For all that they made the most agree-
able and fascinating of bird-neighbours. I had
expected that Bird Rock would be a very noisy
place, but in reality it did not give me that impres-
sion. During the day there are plenty of sounds,
but they are either lost or mellowed in the vastness
of Nature's amphitheatre. The sea moans and the
wind sighs, making a sort of bass monotone into
which the cries of the birds harmoniously blend.

From the house it all sounds like some muffled
murmur. But standing at the edge of the cliff, the
sounds are audible enough, though not as ear-
splitting as in some Gull or Tern colonies. The
loudest calls arose when anything agitated the
Kittiwakes, when the shrill clarion — sounding like
" kittiwake, kittiwake " —enunciated with startling
distinctness, rang out above everything else. The
harsh grating notes of the Gannets were also very
noticeable at times. But the other inhabitants have
very subdued voices, and only express themselves in
low croakings and gruntings.

The morning passed pleasantly and profitably in
further study of %the birds, especially the Murres0
There were two kinds, the Common and the Briin-
nich's, in about equal abundance, I thought. The
two were mixed in on the ledges indiscriminately.
A Common Murre sitting on its egg was just as

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

likely to have for its next neighbour one of the
other species as an individual of its own kind.
Occasionally all on a ledge would prove to he of
one species only, and often, when mixed, one kind
would greatly outnumber the other. But the only
way to get identified eggs was to watch a ledge,
note the order of the species as they sat upon the
eggs, and then mark the eggs as they were taken.
In addition to the above, there are a few individuals
of the type once named the " Ringed Murre," dis-
tinguished by a white line running back from
behind the eye. Naturalists are in doubt as to
whether or not this is a valid species, and, if not,
how to account for this aberration.

We also investigated the nesting of the Puffins.
Securing a pick-axe, by hard toil we managed to
dig out several burrows. Each was from one to
two yards in length, ending in a larger chamber,
where the one dirty-white egg was laid in a slight bed
of grass and feathers. The soil is largely the debris
of red sandstone, which, we found, gives to some
of the eggs a reddish stain rather hard to remove.
In one instance we caught a Puffin on the nest.
Despite its struggles and biting, the Keeper's son
despatched it, and the work of taxidermy fell to my
lot, which occupied the remaining time before
dinner.

About this time, as I had hoped, the clouds
rolled away, and we were favoured with an after-
noon of sunshine. Of course the camera came
again into vogue. After taking some more general
views, I began the attempt to photograph birds on
the rocks at close range. The south-east end Puffin

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

ground seemed to be the best place for this, where
Puffins, Murres and Auks gathered at the top of the

"PRESENTLY A PUFFIN ALIT RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA"

cliff. First I noticed one rock where the Puffins
frequently alit, and set the camera on the ground,
focusing it on this spot. Then I withdrew with

I MADE SEVERAL EXPOSURES OX PUFFIN'S''

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

the end of the long tube, and lay down on the
ground, fifty feet away. Presently a Puffin alit
right in front of the camera, then another. I made
several exposures on Puffins, then removed the in-
strument to another rock, where I secured some
close shots at Murres and Auks. After that I

" I SECURED SOME CLOSE SHOTS AT

aimed at a whole crag on which all these birds
gathered in a larger group, and made several expo-
sures on them. They had to be rapid exposures, as
the birds were moving their heads all the time, and
the strong wind blew their feathers badly.

I was interested in watching the Gannets in
their relations one with the other, and it seemed to me

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

that they were the most quarrelsome of all the Cliff-
Dwellers, though for the most part they were
peaceable enough. At times I saw groups of them
huddled together in friendly fashion, some of them,
probably mates, caressing one another with their

bills. Yet fre-
quently there
were manifesta-
tions of displea-
sure and hostil-
ity. One instance
was especially
curious. I saw
a Gannet plunge
into the water
from mid - air,
and come to the
surface with a
fish or eel.
Another at once
laid hold on the
prize, and there
followed a long
tug of war. I pur
posed seeing the
a ffa i r 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-
ure as far across as a man can stretch, and then
glide down and out over the ocean, at times to

" AFTER THAT I AIMED AT A WHOLE CRAG ON

WHICH ALL THESE BIRDS GATHERED

IN A LARGER GROUP "

MODERN CLIFF-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
the birds. After the 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 1 900 — as the Keeper had it :
March 14. i dozen Kittiwakes

" 15. 2 dozen Kittiwakes

" 1 6. 100 Kittiwakes

" 1 8. 500 Kittiwakes. Disappear for a few
days

" 22. 1000 Kittiwakes

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

March 27.

28.

April 2.

1 1.

18.

21.

app

ear

and

2 Gannets

May

29.

Kittiwakes all back
About 2000 Murres

depart
About 1000 Murres return.

seen

Murres all arrived
4 Gannets seen
Gannets common
50 Razor-bills return
Razor-bills common
6 Puffins seen
Puffins common
Petrels heard
Petrels common

The following is the record as kept for 1895, in
accordance with a printed list of questions :
Kittiwakes. Arrived March 1 1
" 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 i
Common April i 2
Began to lay May 5
Arrived April i 8
Common April i 8
Began to lay May 24
Arrived April 26
Common April 26
Began to lay May 26
72

Murres.

Gannets.

Razor-bills.

Puffins.

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

Petrels. Arrived May 6

" Common May 6

" 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 forty feet. The 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

MODERN 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
up. Thus we
reached ledge
after ledge, until
we were safely
landed on the top.
This we found to
consist of bare flat
rock, which was
covered with nests
of the Gannets

about a yard apart "i 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

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
I did 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,

MODERN CLIFF-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

into the crate, with plenty of

exposures. 1 got
plates, and was
swung out and
lowered, until I
gave the signal to
stop. All about
were many inter-
esting subj ec ts,
especially Kitti-
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

AN INCUBATING BRUNNICH S MURRE

W* &

r Ih

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

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 lowered successively from ledge
to ledge, swinging off in mid-air, till I had photo-
graphed everything within useful range, when I

" JUST BELOW

EM [WERE] THREE KITTIWAKES ON THEIR XESTS "

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

AMONG THE WATER-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 ignorant and 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

MODERN CLIFF-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 Bird Rock. The sky was overcast,
with a very strong wind from the south-east, raw
and chill, with occasional showers. The 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
" beheld the fowls of the air." If 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
short "time exposure" on some Puffins, 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

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 day 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 go in 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.

MODERN 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 toward 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 to see 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-

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

ting half way there, we had to give it up, and going
ashore on the sand-bar 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 a boat, a
flock of nearly twenty Ravens rose and hovered 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,
we started a number more. Then, despite the

MODERN CLIFF-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. There 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 wras 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, mid-way
on the cliff, I gazed up and down the dizzy 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 latter 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 other 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.

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
of the lonely islets as the likeliest shelter. Here

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

many of them breed, and likewise on various sprue- j-
grown 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
to the nest. The 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 the island, only it was much larger. It was
built of large crooked sticks, some of them as thick
as one's thumb, 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

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
are laid. There is little danger of breaking them,

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

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 put 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

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 tantalizing
probably to be 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 of seeing if the eggs can be gotten at.
And what a source of 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

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

me, nor as horizontal as the Puffins. 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 flight begin 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
land. A fisherman, some years ago, told me that

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

MODERN CLIFF-DWELLERS

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 than the coast of Maine. Now and then I
have seen a small party of them in mid-winter off
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 black o.t 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 the old 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

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

three or four miles off the land, the sea was fairly
alive with them, while Kitti wakes 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 school, and made
for it. The air was full of excited Kittiwakes,
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 fed. In a few moments the water for about an
acre was a mass 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 hovered close around us—
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

MODERN CLIFF-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 the sea, making directly for the boat. It
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.

AMONG THE WATER-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 sluggish 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.

PART III.

OCEAN WANDERERS

(Shearwaters, Skuas, Petrels, 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 breeze and a racing tide swept us

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

out over the agitated waters of the harbour-bar, than
which there is none more dangerous on our coast.
Then the fiery ball of the sun rose from the ocean,
dispelling the morning mist, and drying the cold,
wet decks of the fishing-fleet. OfFto 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 yec 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 terrible ones ... as a storm against the
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

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

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

throw out some cod-livers, and see the hirds. 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 the 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 all over
the 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.

The Jaegers, on the contrary, 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 a
forked tail and black webs between its toes, the latter

101

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

a " square " tail and yellow webs. They are hard
to distinguish at any distance, and thus one might
overlook the rarer, though very similar, Stormy or
Least Petrel, which I have 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. Luffing 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 disappoint-
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 quick 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-FOWL

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

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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

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much in-shore from " the Crab Ledge," a fishing
ground about eight miles from land. And then,
again, they are away off on " Rocky Ground,"
twenty miles or more off 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 tossed 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 seems so. Try it and see ! Yet I 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

1 06

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. In a 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

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AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

some Terns near land, I did not see a single one till
we had been fishing half an hour. Then one
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-
ing about. Still they came, more Petrels and
Shearwaters, then several Sooty Shearwaters and a

1 08

IO9

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

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,

1 10

I II

AMONG THE WATER-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

I 12

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 diffi-
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

o a

O K

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
flier. 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

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 efforts, 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 them.

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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 a
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 naturalut 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 fishermen, 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 hsd 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 Wanderers, — the little Phalaropes.
They are classed among the 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. Two 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 these 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

1 20

OCEAN WANDERERS

occasional flocks of Phalaropes, or " Whale-birds,"
as the fishermen there call them, during August.
Once, in the middle of June, I 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

121

AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

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.

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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 wonder 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
flocks. Hence I incline to the opinion that, in the

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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

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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 a way, and even in
calm weather the sea broke not a li;ei|e on the rocks.
However, watching our chance, \ ^ 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 I
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
iust 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

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AMONG THE WATER-FOWL

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 jnoirpi to generalize the observations a
little. \^/e diu. not find more than one egg in any
nest, Hid 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 seen by
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, fwhere
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 WATER-FOWL

on to the rock in 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 last, sail ho ! In half an hour
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
out a young Petrel. Some were completely feathered,
and, but for the down that still clung to the ends
of the feathers, they might have been taken for
adults. Others could not boast a single real feather,
yet were warmly clad in a dense gray down, a little
lighter in colour than the regular plumage. Between
these extremes 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

PART IV

THE WHITE -WINGED FLEET

(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 o'f 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
clime. There is no class of birds more beautiful,

130

THE WHITE -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

AMONG THE WATER 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 at
Clarke's Harbor, Cape Sable Island, listening to
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

THE WHITE -WINGED FLEET

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
o f fire ; the
Gulls 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 water,
where a large
flock were rid-
ing at anchor,

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
of a smile.

133

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 —
they take to the trees. So it was here, to a large
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
a man. 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 WHITE -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

_- °^ t'ie y°ung

Gulls not yet
able to fly. They
had all left the
nests, having
found some way,
probably with
the parents'
help, of d e -
scending to the
ground. It was
a comical sight,
those odd, mot-
tled, partly
downy, partly

nil

lied^Ted WC D ""

t C\ C\ t f* f\ C"TP'C(

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

ANOTHER STUDY OF THE WESTERN GULL
BY OTTO VON BARGEN

These studies were made in San Francisco harbor, where the
large Gulls, — as a class ordinarly very wary, — have become,
through protection, almost fearless of man, especially the imma-
ture individuals, which the photographs represent.

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-
rate at the present time, for the island is under

THE WHITE- 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 all sorts of
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-
side a rock, or
boldly out in the
open. Then we
extend our ram-
ble into the
sp ruce-woods,
and here they
are just the same,

<"1 3.DOUt OH tflC

ARE THE NESTS OF THE GULLS." NEST OF HER-
RING GULL, MAINE. BY A. C. BENT

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

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

nest that had two very dark eggs, much the color
of Loons'. Not far 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 Land." Its very 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 roar of the surf
that monotone into which the thousands of grating
Tern-cries unite at that distance. Then 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

139

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

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 give the
owner the distinction of a wealthy house-owner and
tax- payer.

Whether the distinction will ordinarily hold or
not, I cannot say, but the Arctic Terns of this
colony, and of others that I have visited, lay gener-
ally but two eggs, while with the Common or Wil-
son's Tern three is the ordinary number. On one
occasion, when I looked the island over pretty care-
fully, and inspected hundreds and hundreds of sets
of eggs, only about a dozen contained three eggs,
and none more; the rest two each.

There is the usual interesting variety in the
colors and markings of these eggs that there is in
those of other Terns and Gulls, nor is there any
perceptible difference between the eggs of the va-
rious species of Terns of the size of the Arctics.
In these colonies I always like to look for oddly
marked or colored eggs, and among so many some
very strange types are found. On this island one
season I found two eggs in a little hollow of the
rock that were of a clear light blue ground-color,
with only a few sparse spots. The next year, in the
very same place, were two precisely similar eggs.
A daughter of one of the keepers gave me a plain
bluish green egg without a single spot, which she
had found in a previous season.

The Terns were all over the Island, except at
the southeast corner, near the cluster of buildings;

140

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

but within a hundred feet or so of these we began
to see eggs. The birds kept up their clamor all
the time, and hundreds were ever in the air; but
when we came from the buildings and began to
invade the territory which they regarded as their
own, practically the whole colony rose and hovered
about, redoubling their vociferations. Now and
then one would swoop close to our heads, evidently
the owner of the eggs over which we were stepping.
And so it is at all Tern colonies. It is bewildering,
and always fascinating. No matter how many colo-
nies I have visited, I am always ready to see another.
The whole surroundings, of birds, and rock or sand
and ocean impresses one with the vitality of unal-
loyed Nature, a scene of abounding, exuberant life.
How eagerly the faithful custodians of the
lights on these lonely isolated spots look forward to
the return of the birds, we may readily imagine.
Were there no other calendar, the Terns could
quite accurately supply one. They are very regular
in their coming. At the time of my last visit the
keeper told me they arrived in a large body that
year on May 14, and laid the first eggs on the 28th.
The season preceding, their date of arrival was May
17, and from these dates, I am told, there is little
variation. He did not have the exact dates of de-
parture, but from my observation with other colo-
nies I should say it was not later than early Septem-
ber. As soon as the young are on the wing, they
begin to scatter, and when the tardier ones can fly,
they are soon gone. In one colony I found a few
young on the rocks the first of September. But
before that month has sped most of the Terns have

141

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

left the New England shores, though some linger
later, and I once saw a Tern — of the common
species I took it to be — on Christmas day.

The common or Wilson's Tern is our most
abundant species, very similar in habits and appear-
ance to the Arctic Tern. It was years before I
could tell them apart, and no one can always feel
sure. The former kind has a paler bill, with black
at the tip, while the bill of the Arctic is all of a dark
coral red, and its breast is usually darker than that
of its relative. What a delightful panorama it brings
to my mind to recall the various breeding colonies
of this species that I have visited ! Some were on
various rocky islands of the coast of Maine, and
suggest scenes of sunshine and fog, breeze and
storm, wave and calm ; others were at the Magda-
len Islands — small groups of a dozen pairs or so

on numerous lit-
tle islands in the
ponds, and es-
pecially one
great area of
sand between
the outer beach
and the lagoon,
where nests were
scattered along
for miles, con-
structed with all
grades of mechanical art, from a bare hollow in the
sand to a substantial bed of grass or seaweed.
Along the beach at this locality were feeding im-
mature Herring, Great Black - backed, Glaucus,

142

" CONSTRUCTED WITH ALL GRADES OF MECHANICAL
ART, FROM A BARE HOLLOW IN THE SAND." NEST
OF COMMON TERN, MAGDALEN ISLANDS

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

TO A SUBSTANTIAL BED OF GRASS." ANOTHER NEST
OF COMMON TERN, MAGDALEN ISLANDS

and Bonaparte's Gulls, whose presence certainly
enlivened the scene for me.

Off the southern shores of Massachusetts there
are various sandy islands on which these Terns and
others breed.
One of these
others, not yet
spoken of, is the
beautiful Rose-
ate Tern, very
similar in appear-
ance and habit,
breeding near
and even among
the other spe-
cies, but distinguishable by its slender form and long
tail, and a very white breast, that in the right light
shows a beautiful pink blush of a most delicate hue.
Any adjectives that I could use would be far inade-
quate to describe the grace and beauty of the
Roseate Tern.

In the same habitat, from Massachusetts south-
ward, is found that dainty little sylph, the Least
Tern. I first saw it along the broad, lonely ocean
beaches of the "back-side" of Cape Cod. There,
as we walk along, several little Terns, much smaller
than the other kinds, hover rather high over or
beyond us, uttering their shrill staccato uyip, yip,
yip." After a good deal of tramping, keeping our
eyes painfully upon the blinding glare of the dry,
sandy expanse back from high-water mark, we may
now and then detect two, or occasionally three, little
eggs that look almost exactly like the mottled peb-

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

bles, lying in ?, slight hollow that is unlined, except
sometimes for a scant bed of little chips of mussel-
shell. These are the Least Terns' nests.

Previous to the departure of the Terns from us
in the autumn, they are everywhere flitting about
our shores and bays, following up the schools of
small fish and resting on sandbars, flats, or even

boats, buoys or
fishermen's
traps. Old and
young are inter-
mi n gle d , and
they are tame
and gentle. To
bays where there
is good fishing
they will resort
daily, flying out
seaward at
night.

The Herring Gull is the only true Gull that
nests on the coast of Maine. From Massachus-
setts southward the Laughing Gull nests spar-
ingly on sandy islands and marshes, often near
colonies of Terns. The other species of the Gulls
are more northerly than either of the above. Im-
mature individuals linger far south of the breed-
ing-range of the species. So when one sees more
or less mottled Great Black-backed, Glaucus, or
Bonaparte's Gulls in summer, do not imagine that
their nests can be discovered by any amount of
search.

Early autumn begins to bring the Gulls to us

144

THREE LITTLE EGGS THAT LOOK ALMOST EXACTLY
LIKE THE MOTTLED PEBBLES, LYING IN A SLIGHT
HOLLOW THAT IS UNLINED. EXCEPT SOMETIMES
FOR A SCANT BED OF LITTLE CHIPS OF MUSSEL-
SHELL." NEST OF LEAST TERN. BY W. H. FISHER

THE WHITE -WINGED FLEET

from the north. By the middle of August, among
flocks of Terns we can often pick out a bird or
two of heavier build, square tail, and slower flight,
that proves to be Bonaparte's Gull in winter dress,
without the striking black hood. By September,
or even earlier, our familiar Herring Gull begins
to return south from the breeding-grounds. If we
look carefully we may notice a very similar Gull
that is a little smaller, known as the Ring-bill,
which, in the coast-region, goes in summer far to
the north. In late fall the beautiful Kittiwake
becomes abundant well off shore on the fishing-
grounds, and the big fellows appear, — the Great
Black-backed, which becomes fairly common, and
the rare Glaucus Gull, or Burgomaster.

I well remember when I first saw the ''Burgo-
master" alive. I was watching a flock of Herring
Gulls feeding just off one of the Boston docks in
midwinter, when I became aware of the presence
of a larger individual, a magnificent Gull, white
all over, without even the black wing-tips of the
others. With them it was hovering, wheeling, and
alighting to pick up morsels from the water, no
more fearful than they. There was no doubt as
to what it was, and I watched it for an hour before
it went down the bay. Its spread of six feet across
the wings gave it an impressive appearance.

This is the size also of the Great Black-backed
Gull, that is also known as Turkey Gull, Minister
Gull, and by other names. The black plumage of
its upper parts in contrast with the pure white below
makes it, in the adult phase, very conspicuous.
But it is one of the shyest of birds. The Herring

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

and Ring-billed Gulls are ordinarily shy enough,
except by wharves, where they seem to know that
there is no shooting allowed. But the sable-backed
fellow never relents. I have, in years past, ex-
hausted all my ingenuity in vain efforts to get
near one.

A good glass, however, makes even these va-
rious large shy Gulls seem near, and I love to
watch and study them upon our coasts in winter
under the various conditions : on restless wing and
with keen vision scouring the ocean for food, tack-
ing in the teeth of the winter's gales; settling in
flocks upon the wind-swept sea, out beyond the
breakers ; gathering on the beaches and flats when
the tide goes down, where they walk about with
sedate bearing, and stoop to conquer the juicy
bivalves or the luckless crustacean ; sitting on the
edge of some field or drifting cake of ice, the very
incarnation of Boreas. These are all typical sights.

To study the Gulls further, let us make a jour-
ney in thought, westward to North Dakota, that
paradise of water-fowl. There I will introduce the
reader to some islands in a large lake. They are
nothing but small, low, rocky shoals, of very little
beauty in themselves. But I call them "The En-
chanted Isles," for there are more kinds of water-
birds breeding on them than on any other small
area that I have ever seen. It was only accidently
that I learned of their whereabouts three years ago,
through one who, not a bird-student, tarried awhile
in this, the lake region of North Dakota. In all

146

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

I have paid them half a dozen visits, and every
time have seen something new.

I will describe a visit to them made this past
season : It was the last day of May, a splendid
morning, calm and bright. Two of us there were,
and we had come two thousand miles to see the
birds, making our headquarters in a small shack
with a hunter who was to drive us to various inter-
esting places. The islands were about eight miles
from here, and at seven in the morning we started
out in a rather novel fashion, a pair of broncos
hitched to a buckboard, upon which was loaded a
substantial keel row-boat, in which we sat with our
cameras and various equipments. Thus we voyaged
over the prairie in our boat that was propelled by
horse-power. A pack of hunting-dogs followed us,
and amused us by catching gophers and chasing
jack-rabbits. In the latter case, the quest was never
successful. Not even the greyhound seemed able
to catch such a marvellous runner as "Jack," so
long of limb and nimble. On these drives we now
and then saw a badger by its hole, or a gaunt gray
coyote, or prairie wolf, loping over the prairie,
stopping now and then to look back at us.

So we drove along, exhilarated by the wild sce-
nery of the prairie, and the crisp, stimulating air.
Reaching the lake, we unloaded our boat on the
beach, and, after tethering out the horses, pushed
off, heading for one of the four low islands that
lay over a mile out in the lake. As it became
plainer to our vision, the first signs of bird -life
were dots all over the rocks, that I knew to be
mainly Ring-billed Gulls, and rows of black objects

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

that represented a fine colony of Double-crested
Cormorants. The latter were squatting or standing
upon their nests that were placed as close together
as possible, resembling in the distance troops of
soldiers in martial array. v

When we approached within quarter of a mile
they began to fly off in detachments of a dozen or
so at a time, to alight out in the lake and watch us.
Then the Gulls began to get uneasy and at length,
with a great fluttering, the whole colony rose. The
air was filled with beating white wings and with an
almost deafening clamor. There is no bird more

capable of noise
than a large Gull,
and every one on
this island per-
formed faithfully
its part.

Then we
landed, and no
sooner had ad-
vanced a few
steps from the
water's edge than
we were in the
midst of eggs of the Gulls. The island's sur-
face was more or less covered with loose stones,
with some grass growing on the summit. The
Gulls' nests were anywhere and everywhere, among
the stones, besides clumps of weeds, in the grass,
rather slight affairs consisting of a rim of dry grass
or weed that seemed to deepen the slight hollow in
the ground, which was lined with a few feathers.

148

" NO SOONER HAD WE ADVANCED A FEW STEPS FROM
THE WATER'S EDGE THAN WE WERE IN THE
MIDST OF EGGS OF THE GULLS." NEST OF RING-
BILLED GULL

THE WHITE-WINGED FLFET

Nearly all the nests had three eggs, but occasionally
there were but two.

The island was very small, hardly more than an
acre in extent, so that it was not hard to estimate
the population. We counted just about an even
hundred nests with eggs, besides a number more
that were empty. Some had probably been robbed,
and I think it safe to say that there were three hun-
dred birds belonging on this island. There was
about one pair of Herring Gulls for ten of Ring-bills.
The eggs of all had evidently been laid the mid-
dle of May, and there were no young yet hatched.

Meanwhile we had also investigated the homes
of the Cormorants, and a most interesting sight it
was. The nests were good-sized platforms, built
very ingeniously
of crooked sticks
that were so in-
terwoven that
the nests were
often substantial
enough to be
lifted up without
falling apart. In
fact, we once
found a nest on
the shore of the
mainland that
had either been carried or drifted there, and yet
was intact. There were seventy - three nests in
all, in two about equal areas, one down by the
shore, the other well up on the higher part of
the island, but not far away. In each area the

149

THE NESTS WERE GOOD -SIZED PLATFORMS, BUILT
VERY INGENIOUSLY OF CROOKED STICKS." NESTS
OF DOUBLE -CRESTED CORMORANT3. THE NEAR-
EST HAS IN IT TWO NAKED BLACK YOUNG THAT
HARDLY SHOW IN THE PICTURE

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

nests were placed touching one another. Nearly all
of them held three or four very rough - looking,
dirty white eggs, that seemed to be covered with a
sort of chalky deposit, which can be scraped off,
when a harder bluish shell is exposed. In one nest
there were six eggs, and on previous visits I had
seen seven and eight. Many of the eggs seemed
fresh, but in a few cases one or two young had
hatched. I doubt if there is in bird-world any-
thing uglier than a young Cormorant, blind and
naked, with a slimy looking black skin.

My companion and the guide now rowed off to
the next island, while I remained to see what I could
do at photographing the Ring-billed Gulls, which I
noticed settled on their nests whenever we kept out
of sight. I selected a spot where there were a num-
ber of nests quite close together, just above the top
of the beach. Here was a sort of windrow of
stones, piled up by the waves, just near enough to
the nests to be useful. Removing some of the
stones, I made a level spot for the camera, focused
it so as to take in half a dozen of the nests, cov-
ered it with the cloth, attached the spool of strong
thread and set the shutter, then piled up stones
around and upon it, except in front. Carefully I
unwound and laid the thread along the beach nearly
the whole length of the aoo-yard spool. To where
the thread ended I brought the old sail, and lay
down under it. After some hovering the Gulls
began one by one to alight, until at last there
seemed to be quite a number of them in front of
the camera. I was too far away to see just when
things were at their best; but, as general conditions

w fe
w

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O H

Q h

J <
< u

a
O O

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Z ta

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2 u.

J O
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AMONG THE WATER FOWL

were propitious, I drew in what slack there was and
pulled the thread taut. The Gulls showed no signs
of having heard the shutter, but it had sprung all

right I found
when I walked
up.

In the same
manner I pro-
ceeded with the
work, taking a
few more shots
from the same
position, then
focusing on a
single nest at
close range, or

"THEN FOCUSING ON A SINGLE NEST AT CLOSE RANGE" OD a COUplC Oi

RING-BILLED GULL ON NEST nests , and again

on a rock where the Gulls frequently alighted. In
the latter case I got a fine exposure on two birds
on top of the rock. The Gulls soon became much
more confident, and would return to their nests as
soon as I retired, often standing so near the camera
as to brush against it. Of course the exposures had
to be instantaneous, and cloud areas bothered me a
good deal. The Cormorants proved to be too shy
to be photographed. When the boat returned with
accounts of wonderful finds on the other islands, all
too soon for me, I had what proved later to be a
very interesting series of Gull pictures, the fruits
of a hard day's work. If anyone thinks it easy, I
would like to put him on a glaring beach in a broil-
ing sun, without a trace of a breeze, surrounded

152

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

by bird-filth and swarms of insects, and given the
nests of some rather shy Gulls and a camera, let
him try it, and see if he could keep his temper
when the string became snarled, and how many
fogged plates he would get.

On June 15, the weather calm and cloudy, we
again visited " The Enchanted Isles," four of us
this time. We took some more pictures on the
same island, and then rowed to the next two, that
lay together a
mile away.
There we had
enough to oc- jj^

cupy us the

'---*'*£ s
rest of the day.

These islands
were each con-

I GOT A FINE EXPOSURE ON TWO BIRDS OX TOP OF
THE ROCK." RING -BILLED GULLS ABOUT TO RE-
TURN TO THEIR NESTS

siderably larger
than the other,
and were teem-
ing with bird-
life. The first
of them had
on it quite a colony of Common Terns, the second
a much larger one of Terns, and quite a num-
ber of Ring - billed Gulls, perhaps a hundred of
the latter. The Terns had their sets, usually of
three eggs, everywhere about — above the beach,
among the stones, and in the grass. We photo-
graphed a great many nests of various sorts, and it
was well that we did it early, for about the middle
of the afternoon the sky grew very dark, and a
furious rain set in. Fortunately, we were well pre-
153

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

pared for it, with coats and boots. We turned the
boat partly over, put our cameras and accessories
under it, and took refuge there ourselves. It was
a fine outlook over the storm -swept lake. The
rain, pouring down on its surface, splashed up jets
and bubbles, and made the whole sheet of water
white in its agitation. Frequently what amounted
to almost a cloudburst would occur, and everything
would be shut out from view, nothing remaining
visible over the lake but a blinding sheet of de-
scending water. This was very picturesque, and we
enjoyed it for awhile ; but when the moments grew
to hours without a sign of slacking it began to get
monotonous. Finally, at half-past six, we buttoned
up our coats, covered up our cameras in the rub-
ber cloths, and pulled out into the storm. Fortu-
nately, the rain soon ceased, and after dark we
reached the hospitable Dakota shack none the worse
for a little wetting.

A week later we made still another visit to our
enchanted islands. We began at the one not yet
visited, and found there the usual pleasing variety
of water fowl, and good colonies of Terns and Ring-
bills. Then we rowed to the third island. Terns
and Gulls filled the air, and Ducks flew squawking
away. It was a fine day, and I set the camera for
a view of Gulls on the rocks, getting two expo-
sures after a vexatious delay caused by one of the
company innocently walking through my invisible
line of thread, and getting it all tangled up in the
weeds. Then, after photographing some nests, I
tried my luck on the Terns. There were hosts of
them all over the island, and they made a prodig-

154

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

ious and unceasing fuss over my presence, going
on to their nests awhile, and flying up again with-
out any seeming provocation. At first I thought
that the task I
had grappled
with so confi-
dently would
find the day too
short for its ac-
complishment. I
set the camera in
the sand, or
grass, by shelter-
ing clumps of
weeds, near two
or three nests,
but the hovering
birds provoking-
ly would not go
on, and I could
not afford time
for an indefinite
wait. At last I
noticed a set of
two eggs that were pipped, and I certainly thought
the owner would brave the camera for them. So
she did. With the thread in hand I lay 'down
on the sand about fifty yards away. Within five
minutes she alit close to the nest, and I got a
picture, and soon another, as she was covering her
eggs.

Quite a few of the Gulls' eggs had hatched.
The young were skulking among the weeds and

"I TRIED MY LUCK ON THE TERNS." YOUNG COM-
MON TERN

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

stones, or had betaken themselves, in small part-
ies, for a swim out on the lake. Here I had it

more impressed
upon me than
ever that these
beautiful and in-
nocent - appear-
ing species of the
Laridae are not
always in con-
duct what we
might expect
from appear-
ance. I noticed
quite frequently
that some Tern
or Terns would
angrily dive
down at a young
Ring-bill out on
the water, and
strike it some
p retty hard
blows. One of
my friends, who
returned there
later in the sea-
son, saw Terns
again and again
strike a young
Gull till the in-
nocent head fell,
and the bird lay

WITHIN FIVE MINUTES SHE ALIT CLOSE TO THE NEST"
COMMON TERN, ABOUT TO SETTLE UPON HER EGGS

'AND SOON ANOTHER. AS SHE WAS COVERING HER EGGS
THE SAME TERN AS IN ABOVE ILLUSTRATION

156

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

dead on the water. I also noticed, when I first
visited the Cormorant island, that when the Cor-
morants were frightened off their nests, before
they would return, the Gulls settled down upon
their homes, and ate a number of the eggs. I have
already re-
corded the case
of the Frank-
lin's Gull plun-
dering the
Grebe's nest,
and it is evi-
dent that such
deeds of vio-
ence are a fam-
ily trait among
our beautiful
and interesting

friendS. OUt "THE YOUNG WERE SKULKING AMONG THE WEEDS AND

with all their

faults we shall continue to love them, and refrain
from flinging at them in cynical spirit, " handsome
is that handsome does."

Among all birds, I do not know of a more
beautiful species than the Franklin's Rosy Gull. It
is of medium size, resembling Bonaparte's Gull in
having a black hood, as it were, over the head and
the upper neck, with pearl-grey upper parts; but
the under portions, which are white, have added a
beautiful rosy blush. They are said to breed from
Dakota northward to the Arctic sea. Besides being

'57

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

beautiful, they are interesting in being illusive. All
over the prairies they straggle, in small groups or
in large flocks. The settlers call them "Prairie
Pigeons," and I know of no more unique and
beautiful sight than to see a small army of them
follow the farmer as he ploughs, dropping into the
newly turned furrow behind him like snow-flakes,
to pick up the worms and grubs that are exposed
to view. In places, especially near their breeding
grounds, I have seen the prairie fairly white with
them.

But their breeding grounds? — that is the ques-
tion. It is their habit, according to accounts,
to congregate in immense numbers in some large
shallow lake and build floating nests amid the
grass and reeds that grow out of the water. There
are certainly not many of these colonies within
our borders. There may not be more than one
or two in all Dakota, in spite of the fact that so
many birds are wandering about. Many a time I
have watched them as they came drifting over the
prairie, ever on the move, and have longed to
know whither they were journeying. I could not
locate their breeding ground from the direction of
their flight, so I wrote to different parts of the state,
and questioned every Indian or hunter that I met,
but it was of no use.

At length, through hearsay and rumor, I traced
out the fact that a year or two before great num-
bers of these Gulls had nested in a large, deep
slough, north of Devil's Lake. The Sioux Indians,
it was said, were accustomed to go there and cart
away eggs by the bushel. I reached the spot after

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

a considerable wagon journey only to find that the
Gulls had been so persecuted that they had not
returned that season, but had moved off somewhere
else. This was very disappointing, and to this trial
was added being caught on the return trip in the
most terrific thunderstorm I was ever out in, or ever
wTish to be. The wind blew over houses, and the
rain almost filled the body of the wagon. If ever
we were soaked it was then. We had to sleep in a
barn that night and two nights more ere we got
back to headquarters. Much further search had
already been in vain.

This only served to whet my desire the more
for the Franklin's Gull, and when I decided last
season to visit Dakota again, I redoubled my in-
quiries. Finally I heard of a young man who prob-
ably had the desired information. Imagine my
delight when I received one day a note to the effect
that he knew of a large colony of thousands of the
Franklin's Gull, and would guide me there if I
would come to his house.

At the earliest possible moment we started off,
three of us, with broncos and buckboard, — this
time without the boat, — for the drive of fifty miles.
The site the Gulls had chosen was at one end of a
large lake a number of miles long. At length we
approached the timber on its margin. On the left
a settler was ploughing, and about twenty Gulls
were following him close behind, and feeding in
the furrows. On the right, down a steep bank, lay
the lake, a long area, over a mile wide, with some
open water and grass growing from it in extended
tracts^ The distant murmur of many bird-voices

159

1 60

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

came to our ears, and we could see hundreds of
the Gulls in the air out over the middle of the lake.
By the time the others had pitched camp in the
timber our young guide and I had secured a boat,
of which he knew, and we all sallied out, poling
through the grass. We passed various Coots' nests
and hovering parties of Black Terns, when about
quarter of a mile out, crossing a wide lane of open
water, we approached a tract of the long, coarse
grass growing out of four or five feet of water,
where the colony began. Not a great many Gulls
had been in sight, but now they began to rise from
the grass, hundreds upon hundreds of them, yes,
thousands. The clamor of the nearer ones started
those farther along, and even away off in the dis-
tance we could see clouds of fluttering white wings.
The nearer ones immediately came toward us, and
hovered screaming over our heads. The scene, as
far as number of birds was concerned, was the
only one I have
witnessed that
could rival Bird
Rock. At times
part of the mul-
titu d e would
come together in
an unusually
compact mass,
and circle about

US. "HERE WERE THE NESTS, RUDE FLOATING PLATFORMS

OF DEAD GRASS STEMS." NEST OF FRANKLIN'S GULL

Here were

the nests, rude floating platforms of dead grass
stems, only slightly hollowed, a few feet or

161

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

yards apart, everywhere through the grass. The
date was the 25th of June, and most of the eggs
had hatched. Tiny young Gulls in a mottled,
downy plumage were paddling through the grass
in all directions. Our conductor had been here
about the 25th of May and had found all the nests

PAIR OF FRANKLIN'S GULLS ON THEIR NEST, WHICH CONTAINS ONE EGG;
TWO OTHER EGGS, PROBABLY, HAD HATCHED AND THE YOUNG
SWUM OFF

with full fresh sets, usually of three eggs. Very
few nests now had three, but quite a number had
one or two, probably either second layings or where
part of the set had hatched and the young had swum
off. The eggs were like those of all Gulls in color
and markings, in size about half way between the
eggs of the Common Tern and the Ring -billed

162

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

Gull. One of the first nests we noticed had two
eggs notably smaller than any of the others. We
thought there might be a pair of Bonaparte's Gulls
among the Franklin's, but to our eyes the excited,
hovering creatures all looked exactly alike. They
were plenty near enough for observation, hovering
fearlessly only a few yards away from us.

We spent three more days by and among the
colony, and, despite daily showers, I was able to
observe and photograph them very satisfactorily.
At times I took the boat alone, and quietly floated
in the grass, with nests all around me. I believe I
could stay there for weeks and enjoy associating
with those beautiful birds. They were so tame
they would alight on their nests when I was within
ten feet of them, and I took various snap-shots with
the camera held in my hands. Some of them were
incubating, many others standing on empty nests,
from which the young had swum off, usually to
return as soon as confidence was restored. But, as
nearly as I could decide, the young were not at
all particular as to just which nest they resorted to.
Some mothers would have but one chick, others at
times half a dozen. Often the "one ewe lamb"
would swim off to another nest, to be just as hos-
pitably entertained. In some cases the old bird
would fly at the departing youngster and make
vigorous efforts to head it back again, usually with-
out success. It would seem that the tribe, to a
considerable extent, uhad all things common."
Now and then groups of the adults would gather
in a little open pool of water and swim about, but
the nests seemed to be the especial places of resort.

163

164

THE WHITE -WINGED FLEET

Even at this late date various members of the col-
ony were flying in with long streamers of grass in
their bills for the repair of their nests, that they
might continue to serve them as roosting places.

A FRANKLIN'S GULL FAMILY SCENE

During these days we carefully explored the
whole colony. It seemed mainly to lie within half
a square mile, comprising three main areas, one in
the middle of the lake and two nearer either shore,
separated from the central portion by lanes of open
water. There were other, subsidiary parts as well,
making the occupied area of considerable size. As
a rough and very conservative estimate we placed

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

the probable number of Gulls at about five thou-
sand, though one of the party thought it was
nearer ten thousand. Whatever it was it is a won-
derful sight, and those days spent there in camp
will be of fragrant memory. At night I would
look out over the moon-lit expanse and hear the
clamor of the colony that appeared to cease not
day nor night. Possibly at night the Musk-rats or
Minks were disturbing them.

This lake was a wonderful center for bird-life.
Besides Coots, Rails, Night Herons, Bitterns, large
numbers of Ducks, and about a thousand of vari-
ous kinds of Grebes, some of them in colonies, we
estimated that there were something like a thousand
Black Terns breeding. These we found hovering
in flocks wherever we went in the area of water-
growing grass
that extended in
a wide border
out from the
shore all around
the lake as far
as we went. It
was not hard to
find their nests,
which were little
mounds floating
in partial open-
ings amid the
grass. They were not close together, but in oc-
casional little communities, being placed there a
few yards, or even rods, apart, perhaps a dozen or
so to a group. Two eggs are usually laid, some-

166

"IT WAS NOT HARD TO FIND THEIR NESTS, WHICH
WERE LITTLE MOUNDS FLOATING IN PARTIAL
OPENINGS AMID THE GRASS." NEST OF BLACK
TERN

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

times three, and in one case I found four. They
are very heavily marked and scrawled with black,
so much so as almost to hide the ground-color.
These little Terns are late in breeding. At this
time many of the eggs were quite fresh, and some
of the sets were incomplete, though there were
some young swimming about in the grass, after
the fashion of their family.

They are bold and noisy little fellows, especially
when they consider that their rights are being tres-
passed upon. On one occasion, after photograph-
ing a nest with three incubated eggs, I noticed
some young in the water, and, climbing out of
the boat, waded after them. The water was just
up to the top of my boots, and I found that I
must hold these up to keep dry. Then the mother-
bird made at me with all her might. With angry
swoops she kept striking me most vicious blows
on the top of the head with her sharp little bill.
At first I laughed, but I had on only a very thin cap,
and having to hold up my boot-tops all the time, I
could not protect myself. Finally my head pained
me so that it was no laughing matter, and I actually
had to beat an inglorious retreat and climb into
the boat, — a man worsted by a tiny little bird with
nothing but a bill for a weapon. For all that, I
could not be angry at the little mother, but ad-
mired her courage and strength. It made me
think what would be the result if all the birds in
that teeming slough should combine for a bold
attack on the visiting ornithologists.

This little Black Tern is one of the most
typical birds of the Dakota prairies. Almost never

167

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

have I approached a grassy slough in the breed-
ing-season without finding them in evidence, and
wherever one drives on the bare dry prairie, sooner
or later the little dark friend is almost sure to put
in an appearance.

For convenience, though it is not scientifically
one of the Gulls, I may, in this connection, speak
of a bird that is related to them, and in some ways
resembles them, — the great White Pelican. I have
never discovered their breeding-place in Dakota,
which is said to be some low island in a lake,
where they lay three or four great white eggs in a
hollow in the sand. But we found them frequent-
ing most of the large lakes that we visited. The
size of the bird is impressive. I think that, per-
haps excepting the Swan, it is decidedly the biggest
bird of North America. It is nearly as tall as a
man, has a stout, heavy body, and enormous bill,
and a stretch of wings of between eight and nine
feet. Riding out on the lake, they look almost
like yachts at anchor. Such size makes them ap-
pear near even when they are really far out from
shore. It was a fine sight one day when I saw
seventy of them in a V-shaped flock, soar over a
lake and circle down till they rested upon the
water.

One of our company was anxious to secure a
Pelican for his cabinet, and at last he saw a chance
to approach one perched on a rock a little way
out in the lake. A calf that was determined to
follow him and see the sport very nearly prevented
his success, but he managed to stalk and secure
the great bird. It was a sight indeed to see him

168

THE WHITE-WINGED FLEET

return to camp with the load upon his back.
When he photographed his booty, hanging by the
tent, I felt insignificant standing beside the great
creature. And when, early next morning, the skin
was removed, there seemed to be enough of it
to make a good-sized blanket.

169

PART V

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

(Ducks and Geese)

THOUGH the term wild-fowl is variously and
loosely applied, there is no class of birds it better
fits in its suggestive savor of wild, free Nature,
than that called by naturalists the "Anatidae."
Whatever are or are not wild-fowl, Ducks and
Geese are. There are few birds that reveal more
their inherent wildness in retiring before the
advances of human civilization. How often has
my gaze wandered wistfully over the surface of
some beautiful New England lake, searching for
what was not there, some water-fowl floating
upon the surface. There were the lilies, the woods,
the surrounding hills, — all the elements of a beau-
tiful landscape, save this alone, — and a sad lack
it is. But in some of the newer states of the north-
west it is very different. There man has been too
busy in reclaiming and beautifying his own home-
spot to disturb the innocent home-life of his wild-
fowl neighbors.

None of my many bird-adventures have made
deeper impression upon me than those of my first
season spent in studying the breeding habits of the
Ducks and Geese in the Dakota wilds. Though I
had read wonderful tales of that region's bird-life,
it proved to be one of those pleasant surprises, all
too uncommon, where the actual equals expecta-

170

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

tion. Even from the car-window, on a branch rail-
road in North Dakota, as I neared my destination I
saw the Ducks flying out from a series of shallow
sloughs, alarmed at the approach of the tri-weekly
train. It was the tenth of May, and there were
scores of them just settling down to the annual task
of nest-building. So near were they to the train
that without the field-glass I could easily distinguish
Mallards, Shovellers, Pintails and Blue-winged Teal.

Not many miles beyond this favored spot my
friend and I disembarked, and soon were driving
out from the little town along a level prairie road,
bordered by dark fields, some of which were already
delicately greened with the sprouting wheat. Close
by the humble home of a settler, on the right, was
a little pond covering less than an acre of ground,
convenient for his cattle. And there were evidently
his barnyard fowl, a flock of Ducks, enjoying their
favorite element. But what did it mean ? Just as
we drove by, there was a sudden whistling of wings,
and away they went, wild Ducks, — the same kinds
we had seen from the train, — feeding within a few
rods of the barn !

About six miles further on we approached the
house where we were to stay over night. Here, too,
a pond was prominent, right by the turn of the
driveway, and it, likewise, had its Ducks, twenty or
more of them. A Willet standing on the shore
uttered his customary note of alarm, and they were
off ; but by the time we looked back from the
house, there they were again, having circled back
and alit. From the parlor-window I could see
them so clearly with the glass as to be able to iden-

171

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

tify every one, and note each motion. Some were
paddling about, others were pluming themselves
on the shore, but they all kept in pairs, as they did
also when they flew. Among them was one pair
of Green-winged Teal, a species that is very scarce
in Dakota in the breeding season.

The next morning I was out at the break of
day, even before it was light enough to see the
birds. I soon found a series of small sloughs which
were just full of Ducks. Each slough that I ap-
proached gave forth a score or so of searchers for
breakfast and the early worm. That unfortunate
creature this morning must have felt sluggish and
indisposed, for it had been cold enough during the
night to skim the sloughs over with ice near the
shores. The muddy flats had also an icy crust, and
my first exploit while trying to wade one was to trip
on this crust and pitch headlong. To save myself,
I naturally put out my arms, and in up to the
shoulders they went in the cold, wet ooze! The
Ducks quacked loudly, as if mocking, and I fear I
should have lost my temper, but for so many inter-
esting things that made wet clothes and a mud-
plaster trifles not worthy of interrupting the pleasant
chain of thought.

A walk of about a mile from here brought us to
a larger and more open lake. Large flocks of Ducks
of various kinds were resting upon its surface, and a
pair of Great Marbled Godwits were feeding on the
prairie near the margin. A very tall bird stood on
the shore, with long neck extended, taking note of
our approach. We thought it was a Sand-hill Crane,
but, when it swam out into the lake, we perceived

172

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

that it was a Canada Goose. We learned from a
neighboring settler that Geese usually bred in the
vicinity, so we began the exploration of an adjacent
large tract of rushes, back from the shore, hoping
to discover the nest of this bird. The search at
length brought me out to the shore again, near a
projecting point of land. As I came around the
rather steep shore of the point, what was my amaze-
ment to come right upon a flock of Geese sitting
on the beach, not twenty paces off. Eighteen of
them were the common wild Canada Goose ; the
other four were beautiful creatures, snow-white all
over, save for the black outer half of the wings-
Snow Geese — one of the last of the migratory flocks
that had been pouring through the state on their
way to the far north. It is hard to tell which felt
the more surprise, the Geese or the intruder. For
an instant they stood as though paralyzed, then
sprang into the air and flew off with loud honkings.
The Snow Geese went by themselves out over the
lake and the others made a circle or two till they
had mounted quite high, and then, in their usual
wedge-shaped order, steered their course for the
north.

Just a week later, with the same companion, I
started out on a six-weeks' camping tour. Two
fine horses drew a stout open double buggy, on the
back part of which was loaded a tent and a complete
camp outfit. We drove forty miles north and west
that first day, and at night, as it began to rain, in-
stead of pitching the tent, we secured permission to
sleep in the hay-loft of a two-story frame barn be-
longing to a Norwegian family — the only barn, save

WiLD-FoWL OF WILD-FOWL

shacks, that we had seen in many miles. There we
made ourselves comfortable, getting supper with
our little oil stove and then turning in for rest. It
must be confessed that our sleep was none of the
soundest. Down below were cows and calves, horses
and colts, pigs and sheep, dogs and poultry, and
noises of various kinds were incessant. Around us
rats were perambulating, and a cat was making suc-
cessful sallies from time to time, while a shrill-
voiced cockerel on the beam above us had evi-
dently decided that sleep was not to be allowed.

All night the rain poured down on the roof like
an avalanche, and in the morning continued una-
bated. There was nothing to do but make another
day of it — a rather dreary prospect. My disappoint-
ment, however, was tempered by the fact that the
evening before we had passed a small slough, only
five minutes' walk from the barn, that seemed to be
full of Ducks. So, after breakfast, I donned boots
and mackintosh, and set out for it with one of the
Norwegian boys, who told me that last year a pair
of wild Geese had raised a brood on top of a Musk-
rat house in this slough, and that he thought they
were there again. As we approached a whole cloud
of Ducks flew up, and I noticed many interesting
Waders along the margin. The first thing was to
look for the Goose nest. I waded out, up to my
boot-tops, to the several "houses," but there was
no sign of it. Then we took a turn along the shore,
passing through a tract of reeds up from the edge.
Suddenly, without warning, a female Pintail fluttered
out almost from under our feet and rapidly disap-
peared in the blinding rain. In a little hollow, shel-

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

tered by the reeds, she had built her nest of reed-
stems and grass, lined profusely with down plucked
from her breast, and laid nine fresh eggs of a yel-
lowish olive hue — my first Dakota Duck's eggs!

I had already noticed a fine male Canvasback
swimming among some clumps of reeds, well out
in the water. I decided to wade there, letting the
boy beat along the shore. The Canvasback had
disappeared, but when I got out not far from where
I had seen him, I heard a sudden splashing and
beating of wings, and the same instant saw a large
Duck, that I recognized as a female Canvasback,

fluttering over
•the water ten or
fifteen yards
ahead of me. I
was soon there,
and found in a
little clump of
reeds a sort of
semi - floating
"ark of bul-

" I WAS SOON THERE, AND FOUND IN A LITTLE CLUMP
OF REEDS A SORT OF SEMI - FLOATING 'ARK OF
BULRUSHES,' LINED WITH . , . WHITISH DOWN." with

NEST OF THE CANVASBACK

ance of whitish

down, and ten large eggs of a sort of dark leaden
color, a hue produced by no bird but a Canvas-
back. This mother had begun her work earlier
than her Pintail neighbor, for her eggs seemed
considerably incubated.

The weather cleared during the night, and the
next day, with a bracing northwest wind, we drove
thirty miles further to a fine large lake, and, pitch-

176

WiLD-FoWL OF WlLD-FoWL

ing our camp in a grove of timber on the shore,
for several days found many interesting things to
investigate. A few miles back from the lake was
a rushy, grass-grown slough that supported a mar-
vellous variety of Ducks. It was a mile and a
half long, and, as we put up the horses in a sod
barn near the shore, and saw some Gadwalls, Bald-
pates, Blue-winged Teals, Shovellers, Mallards, and
Pintails feeding near-by, down where the cows
drank, I realized what a wonderful place it was.
The water was too deep to wade, except at the
lower end of the slough, and the only boat had
been burned in a prairie fire. For all that, I saw
enough birds. Pairs of Ruddy Ducks were swim-
ming among the reeds, holding their tails erect, as
is their unique fashion. By this habit they can be
distinguished from any of the other Ducks. The
male, at this season, is very striking in his bright
reddish coat and pale -blue bill. Eared, Horned
and Pied - billed Grebes, and Coots, were every-
where near neighbors of the Ruddies. Farther
out there were the Greater and Lesser Scaups, in
pairs, also very many pairs of Redheads, and, most
conspicuous of all, Canvasback couples that were
floating about in the more open lanes and areas of
water. In one place where I stood I counted
eleven pairs of Canvasbacks, and one solitary male,
whose mate had doubtless already begun her month-
long vigil somewhere in one of the reedy clumps.
A pair of Pintails were busy on the prairie, near
the margin, and I found they were scratching a
hollow that was to be their nest. Wherever I went
pairs or parties of all these species of Ducks that

177

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

I have mentioned kept flying up, or were out in
the water within sight. Thus there were eleven
species of wild Ducks in that one locality, and all
of them in good numbers. This is a Dakota duck-
slough at its best.

After a quiet Sunday in camp, our party being
increased to four by a local guide and a visiting
ornithologist, we made a trip to the " Enchanted
Isles," described in preceding pages. It was the
23d of May, beautiful, calm, and bright. We carted
a boat on a buckboard, and visited each of the
four islands, finding plenty of eggs of Cormorants
and Ring-bills and a few scattering nests of Pin-
tails, Gadwalls and Mallards — most of the Ducks
having not yet nested. But there were some dis-
coveries that I must describe in detail. We had
been but a short time on the Cormorant Island

when the guide
called out to me.
It was but a few
steps to where
he stood, by a
clump of tall dry
weeds. In the
midst of them
was a great bed
of stems and
grass, lined with
an abundance of
white down, that seemed to fill the nest. But there
was something else white ! Pulling aside the down
we found disclosed to view six enormous chalky-
white eggs, each as big as two or three Duck's

" PULLING ASIDE THE DOWN, WE FOUND DISCLOSED
TO VIEW SIX ENORMOUS CHALKY-WHITE EGGS"
NEST OF THE (WILD) CANADA GOOSE

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

eggs. It was a nest of the Canada Goose. We
had heard Geese honking as we approaced the isl-
and, and had seen at least one making off. Here
was the buried treasure they had hoped would be
unobserved. I had always thought of the wild
Geese as breeding only in the far north. This was
the first nest of this sort that I had ever seen, and
it would be hard to describe the feelings with
which I viewed it. It seemed as though I were
in a trackless wilderness, perhaps very near the
pole, except that the sun was too warm for such
high latitude. At any rate, I had the delightful
sense of boreal adventure without its hardships.

We saw nothing of the owners of the nest, so,
after photographing it, we proceeded to the second
island, where we actually found another Goose nest
in a short time. This one held five eggs and was
situated in short grass — a sort of lawn it was — just
back from the bank, on the higher part of the
island, overlooking the lake. It seemed a rather
conspicuous place for the great bird to sit with so
little cover, but no doubt she squatted close enough
when danger was near, if, indeed, she allowed any-
one to approach within observing distance while she
was there. This nest was very slight, being little
more than a hollow lined with down.

There was no Goose nest on the third island,
but we discovered another on the last that had
evidently been rifled. It was a rude pile of grass
and down, placed near one end of the island, at the
top of a gravel-spit, among some weeds. Out at
the extremity of the spit, as we approached, we
saw the two Geese standing with outstretched

179

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

necks. Great birds they were, and too wary to
be approached.

From here we drove northwest, away up to the
international boundary, exploring some large lakes
eastward from the Turtle Mountain region. On the
30th of May we reached Rock Lake and pitched the
tent on the prairie close to the stony shore. By this
time more of the Ducks had laid. I was particu-
larly fortunate there in finding Blue-winged Teals'
nests. The morning after our arrival I was rowing
on the lake, and happened to land on a sort of pen-
insula formed on one side by a marshy bayou. The
land was broken and rolling, but near the shore it
was flat, almost marshy, and covered with very pro-
fuse dry grass of the previous year's growth that
had escaped the prairie fires. My companion al-
most trod on a Western Meadow Lark that left her
arched nest in the grass and six eggs for our inspec-
tion. Just after this I was returning to the boat,
when — spring, flutter — away went a Blue-winged
Teal from the long grass at my very feet. It took
me but a second to reach the spot, and, parting the
grass, I gazed into my first Teal's nest, with its ten
small, creamy eggs, well spattered with excrement,
which the bird dropped as she flew. I afterwards
found that this last is the usual occurrence when a
Duck is surprised and flushed from her eggs. This
nest was well down in the thick dry grass, and would
have been practically impossible to discover without
flashing the bird. It was built in a hollow in the
ground, of dry grass, with which the abundant dark
gray down that lined it was more or less mixed.

After a few minutes we started on again, and

1 80

iSi

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

"THIS FIRST DAY OF JUNE I ALSO FOUND MY
FIRST MALLARDS' NESTS"

had gone but a few steps when another Teal flushed
at close quarters, and I soon found the nest, similar
to the last, with a set of nine eggs. In the same
way we found three more Teals' nest in this tract,

,^ five in all.

The first day
of June I also
found my first
Mallards' nests.
One was on a lit-
tle hummock, in
a tu sso c k of
grass, a little
way out in the
water where the
lake shore was marshy, the big bird springing
forth with a bound into the air when I was per-
haps fifteen yards away. The nest was quite sub-
stantial and well lined, and held ten yellowish drab
eggs, slightly tinged with green. The other nest
was on an island in front of our camp, placed in
a thicket of trees and bushes. The first time the
Duck flushed I could hardly get a glimpse of her,
so I came again later in the day, and, approaching
carefully, easily identified the nine eggs, that, like
the others, were quite fresh.

A few days later we drove on, still eastward,
over a most desolate, mainly uninhabited prairie,
to Rush Lake, which I have already described.
On one part of its shore a fire had burned over a
large tract of grass and rushes, and I saw quite a
number of nests of scorched Ducks' eggs exposed
to view. I shall remember this great prairie lake

182

WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWI

as the place where I found two Ducks' nests new
to me. After going over the burnt tract I pulled
up the tops of my boots and waded along the
shore, some rods out, among clumps of long grass.
Away went a brownish Duck, with grey wings,
from a tussock a little beyond me, — a Redhead, I
saw at once. There was a very large basket-nest
of dry rushes,
lined with down,
and a no less size-
able assortment
of eggs, fifteen
of them I finally
counted. Each
egg, too, was
large , n early
white , with a
faint greenish
tinge and a shell so smooth and hard as to remind
one of a billiard ball. Altogether it was a large and
interesting discovery.

At this point I waded ashore and had no sooner
set foot on dry land than a Blue-winged Teal flushed
from the prairie grass, and I found her eight fresh
eggs in a nest of grass and down similar to those
already found. From this spot I had gone but a
short distance, when out went another Teal, and
directly I was inspecting eight eggs more. Hav-
ing by this time rested a little, I again tried wad-
ing, and very soon had the pleasure of seeing a
female Shoveler unwillingly flutter out from some
very thick grass near me. I had been told that
this species usually nested on the dry prairie,

NEST OF REDHEAD

184

WiLD-FoWL OF WlLD-FoWL

but here was evidently a nest out over the water.
For some time I pawed over that grass in vain,
and began to think I was mistaken, when a piece
of down climging to a blade of grass caught rny
eye. Under it was the nest, at the very bottom
of the high tussock. The grass met over it with-
out showing any opening whatever. I should never
have found it without flushing the bird. There
were ten fresh eggs, yellowish white, the color of
the Teals', but larger.

Many interesting happenings followed, until in
time we reached the Turtle Mountain timbered
country, which, though interesting, did not afford
much in the line of Ducks. About all I saw there
were a few Blue-winged Teals, Redheads, Golden-
eyes and Mallards. With the latter I had a rather
amusing experience. One day I found myself on
the shore of a lake in an uninhabited region, miles
from camp at dinner-time, and no food with me.
At one o'clock I was beginning to feel rather faint,
when a Mallard flushed from the grass just up from
the water, leaving six perfectly fresh eggs, evidently
an incomplete set. It occurred to me that this
was my dinner, providentially furnished. As it was
raining, cooking was out of the question, so I emp-
tied two of the eggs into my mouth, with as little
tasting as possible. For an hour at their place of
destination there was a condition of unstable equi-
librium. Strong will at length conquered, but
the appetite for raw Ducks' eggs was effectually
destroyed.

To redeem the memory of Turtle Mountain
Ducks' nests, however, occurred a much pleasant^r

185

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

episode. I had been arduously wading a very boggy
area of rushes, a sort of bayou back from a lake.
Nothing especial had come to light, and I was
struggling absent-mindedly on, when I almost trod
on a bird upon its nest in some thick rushes. It
fluttered out in the terrified, pitiful manner of the
Ducks, literally right from under my feet, a brown-
ish Duck of medium size, with pearl-grey specula,
or wing-bars. Without going very far, it alit in
some open water, where I approached it within a
few feet, behind some rushes, and confirmed my
first impression that it was a female Ring-necked
Scaup, distinguished from the other female Scaups
by its wing-bars being pearl-grey instead of white.
After thus satisfying myself I went back to where
I had thrown my handkerchief by the nest. There
was a pretty canopy of rushes arching over the
neatly built basket, soft with down from the mater-
nal breast, in which lay twelve dark brown eggs
almost the color of Bitterns'. It was the only nest
of the Ring-necked Scaup found during the whole
trip.

Owing to the illness of my companion we soon
had to leave the u mountains" and stay in a neigh-
boring town for a few days. With a boy for com-
pany, I explored the region. One hot day, June
18, we drove twenty miles to Long Lake, — a great
alkaline flat, it was, covered with a uniform depth
of only two or three feet of water, with great areas
of grass and scattered clumps of rushes. I had
been told that Canvasbacks nested here, and after
an arduous search, finding several Ducks' nests
where the broods had been hatched, a female Can-

186

WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL

vasback started from her canopied nest in a clump
of rushes, just as I had caught a glimpse of the
bulky mass of stems and down. I realize how in-
adequate is the power of words to convey the full
impression of such a scene and the interest and
excitement of such a moment. Though I have seen
it enacted hundreds of times, I would willingly
tramp miles to experience that thrill once more.
For one thing, at such a time the mind is in a state
of expectancy through the effort of the search.
The wildness of those prairie lakes adds to its
charm. Every clump of thick vegetation suggests
limitless depths of possibility, and success comes
frequently enough not to allow hope and expec-
tancy to flag. And when it does come "it is so
sudden," that rustling of the grass, the beating of
wings, the sight at close quarters of the noble bird
rising from the mysterious fastness. Every nerve
is strained to note each marking and detail in that
brief, fleeting instant, into which a whole day of
life is crowded. It takes training of eye and mind
to so utilize that golden speck of time that there
shall not afterward be the regret of a confused mind
and an unidentified nest. Then comes the delicious
expectancy of the approach to the clump, the peer-
ing in, the first sight of the hidden treasure. The
whole scene is one of Nature, inanimate and living,
at her best. In this spirit, with enthusiasm aglow,
I watched the swift Canvasback until she disap-
peared behind some rushes, and then peered into
the bed of down. Nine dark eggs there were, and
two strangers, the smooth white eggs of a Redhead
that had laid in the wrong nest. Neither the hot

187

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

marsh, the heated, undrinkable alkaline water which
imparted no relief in cooling brow or moistening
parched tongue, nor the long dark prairie drive,
protracted beyond the midnight hour, dispelled that

enthusiasm.

Just out from
the town was a
little slough of a
few acres, with
the usual border
and clumps of
rushes, where
Ducks and other
birds resorted.

'THEN COMES THE DELICIOUS EXPECTANCY OF THE One mOminP" 3S
APPROACH TO THE CLUMP, THE PEERING IN, THE °>

FIRST SIGHT OF THE HIDDEN TREASURE." NEST J TCachcd t h C
AND SURROUNDINGS OF THE CANVASBACK

outer edge or an

area of flags, I heard sounds of pattering and chirp-
ing. In a moment a brood of eight little downy
Ducks, evidently but a day or two out of the shell,
appeared in the open water in a well-ordered line,
swimming with all their might. And then, with a
rush of despair, came the mother, a Green-winged
Teal, to the rescue. She threw herself in the water
in front of me and lay there fluttering, as though
sorely wounded, swimming a little and then flying
up, only to return in a moment to repeat the same
performance. Meanwhile the little ones had dis-
appeared in the rushes further along, but the little
mother desisted not in her protestations till I with-
drew from the water's edge to inspect some young
Pintails, nearly half grown, that were skulking in
the grass. We caught one, and my boy-companion

188

WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL

was for taking it home. But, in pity for it under
the neglect I was sure it would receive, I pushed
it out from under his arm, and it escaped to the
water.

It is time now, in the narrative, that we hasten
back to the region of Devil's Lake, and describe
another visit to "The Enchanted Isles." It was
on June 27, late enough in the season for the tar-
diest Ducks to have about finished laying their full
sets, another beautiful day, when we again landed
on what we have called the third island. A cloud
of Terns and Ring-bills hovered over it. Hardly
had we stepped from the boat when up went a
Pintail from the weeds, leaving her six incubated
eggs for us to admire. Half a dozen steps more,
and away fluttered a Baldpate from her eight fresh
creamy-white eggs; then another of the same spe-
cies, a few feet further on, from a set of ten.
Each nest was placed under a clump of weeds
among the loose rocks. Then, as I retraced my
steps towards the boat, a Lesser Scaup flew from
the grass a few rods ahead of me. After a little
search, I found her set of nine beautiful brown
eggs.

Meanwhile my companion was investigating a
clump of rose-bushes near by, on the summit of
the island. Seeing under them some rubbish with
down clinging to it, he poked a stick into it and
pulled it apart, unearthing seven great flesh-colored
eggs of the White-winged Scoter, a bird that had
only recently been suspected of breeding in the

189

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

United States. Numerous individuals had been
hanging around these islands all the spring, and I
knew they must be breeding somewhere about.
This nest was little more than a hollow in the
damp earth, with a rim of straw, stems, and sticks,
lined with a small amount of dark gray down. The
eggs were fresh and cold, the set incomplete. The
bird had scraped loam over the nest, and it seemed
like digging potatoes to get at the eggs and prepare
the nest to photograph. This set me to hunting
for more Scoters' nests, and it was but a moment
or so before I dug from under a small clump of
brush close by a similar nest with only one buried
egg, the Scoter having but just begun to lay.

Then a Gadwall got up from her set of ten
white eggs, and, as we proceeded, at every few
steps Gadwalls, Scaups, and Baldpates started from
their nests. So incessant was the fluttering up of
Ducks from beneath our feet that my mind became
utterly confused, so far as taking exact account of
the various nests was concerned.

The matter of identifying nests had its difficul-
ties. Although subsequent investigation has cleared
away most of the uncertainties, I find myself obliged
to confess that it is practically impossible, under
many circumstances, in the hurry of a Duck's de-
parture when flushed from a nest, to distinguish
positively, for instance, between the female Gad-
wall and Baldpate. The latter seems to have rather
more white on the wing-bar, and is of a slightly
lighter gray plumage, — that is about all. The eggs
of both are white, and although sets of the Bald-
pate are usually the more creamy, I am not cer-

190

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

tain that the difference always holds. The female
Pintail at a distance looks very much like both
of the above, though she has a longer, more slen-
der neck. But her eggs are distinct, having an
olivaceous caste. The eggs of the three Scaups,
Greater, Lesser, and Ring-necked, — are alike in
color, a decided brown, and different from eggs
of any other Ducks, but are easily confused one
with the other, as are the birds themselves. The
eggs of the Blue- and Green-winged Teal are indis-
tinguishable, but one can identify the birds at
close range. The female Mallard can be told by
its large size, spotted plumage, and blue speculum.
Females of Redhead and Canvas-back are some-
what alike, but the latter is larger and lighter in
color, and the eggs of each I consider distinctive.
The Shoveler and her eggs can usually be distin-
guished,— though there is some resemblance to the
Pintail, — as the size is considerably less. As to
Ruddy Duck and White-winged Scoter there can
be no mistake. The eggs of the former are aston-
ishingly large for the size of the bird, have a
rough, pitted shell, entirely unique, and are pure
white. Scoters' eggs are larger than those of any
Duck nesting in the United States, save the Eider,
which is not found breeding in the interior.

Leaving this island, at length, with its many
nests of Terns and Ducks, we crossed to island
number two, only a short distance away. Large
numbers of young Ring-bills were scurrying about
among the rocks or swimming out into the lake.
It was the same as on the other islands with the
Ducks. We scoured through its many areas and

191

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

clumps of grass, weeds, or bushes, and found
enough eggs of Gadwalls, Baldpates, Scaups, Sco-
ters, Pintails, and Shovelers to have filled many

pails, had we
gathered them.
It was not
surprising, with
this teeming
bird-life, to find
that the Ducks
not infrequently
laid in each
others' nests. I
found a mixed
set of ten Shov-
elers' eggs and
four of a Scaup,
flushing the fe-
male Shoveler from this aggregation. I also found
Shovelers' eggs in a Baldpates' nest.

On the summit of the island, under clumps of
rose-bushes, Scoters seemed to hold sway. Under
one clump we literally unearthed ten buried eggs.
My companion looked into another near-by thicket,
and a great Scoter sprang almost into his face,
revealing a magnificent set of fourteen large eggs.
At the western end of the island, on the highest
ground, was a very large clump of rose-bushes, as
high as one's head, the others having been but a
couple of feet in height. Near the top of one of
these bushes was the nest of a common King-
bird with three eggs. I crawled into this maze
of briars and was about to leave when I thought I

192

AND FOUND ENOUGH EGGS ... TO HAVE FILLED
MANY PAILS, HAD WE GATHERED THEM." NEST
OF LESSER SCAUP

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

saw some dark down projecting from the ground.
In a moment I had dug out six more Scoters'
eggs. There was almost no nest, the eggs being
laid simply in a hollow, lined with a little down,
and over them the bird had scratched the earth.
The eggs are thus left till the set is completed,
when incubation begins. Just as I got out again
into the open I
saw my compan-
ion, as he bent
over another
clump, nearly
knocked down
as a Scoter sud-
denly flew almost
into his face.
Here was an-
other typical nest
with ten fresh
eggs. Under
still another
clump was a hol-
low freshly scratched out, evidently by a Scoter, in
preparation for her first egg. It is now known that
the Scoter breeds very late, seldom finishing laying
before July, and often well along in that month.

A hurried trip to island number one re-
vealed, besides sixty Cormorants' nests still with
eggs, a few more nests of Ducks. Then we made
for the fourth and last island. I paid but passing
heed to the Baldpates, Gadwalls and Scaups that
flew from their nests, or to a Pintail whose eight
eggs were on the point of hatching. I wanted to

193

" A GREAT SCOTER SPRANG ALMOST INTO HIS FACE.
REVEALING A MAGNIFICENT SET OF FOURTEEN
LARGE EGGS." NEST OF WHITE-WINGED SCOTER,
UNTIL RECENTLY HARDLY KNOWN TO SCIENCE

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

see more of the little-known nesting-habits of the
Scoters. As they seemed to select clumps of
bushes, I felt, as I neared the only clump on this
island, that there must be a Scoters' nest under its
shade. Nor was I disappointed, as I cautiously
parted the bushes and looked in. There, about a
yard from me, sat a female Scoter on her nest, the
picture of consternation, as our glances met. My
first thought was to get the camera and photo-
graph her on the nest, so I cautiously withdrew.
But the bird by this time recovered her presence
of mind. The bushes parted and she waddled out
past me, almost brushing against me, then taking
to wing, at length to drop into the lake and dive.
The nest contained thirteen fresh eggs. Probably,
as with most other Ducks on these islands and
elsewhere, from eight to eleven is the ordinary
number of eggs in the full complements. On
another visit to these islands a friend of mine ac-
tually caught a Scoter on her nest and obliged
her to sit for her picture ere he restored her to
freedom.

The next day I made a visit to the slough where,
over a month before, I had seen so many kinds of
Ducks. We had first to dig out a boat on the large
lake, that a gale had nearly filled with gravel, ere we
could take it along with us on the buckboard. The
rushes and grass had grown very high, and it was
not as easy as before to see the Ducks, though
there were plenty of them. Here, at last, I found
my first nest of the Ruddy Duck. It was a genu-
ine floating structure, built out in the middle of the
slough in deep water, with only a few stems of grass

194

'95

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

near it for anchorage and shade. In location only
was it like a Grebe's nest, being dry, deep and
bulky, though with little down. A recent storm,
probably, had partly upset it, and several of the
fifteen large white eggs were lying on the edge or
spilled out into the water. It seemed almost im-
possible that such a little bird as a Ruddy Duck
should have laid that pile of eggs, several times its
own weight, in less than three weeks. When I first
saw a Ruddy's eggs I could hardly believe they were
properly identified, as they are larger than the eggs
of the Mallard or the Canvasback.

Canvasback, Redhead, and Ruddy Ducks can be
classed together in the nesting season. They all
build elaborate nests in the rushes out over deep
water, and when one is found in a slough the other
members of the triumvirate are also likely to occur.
As though in proof of this, I saw, as I inspected this
nest, a female Canvasback, followed by eight young,
swimming across the lane of water. Not far away,
as later I waded from the boat into the rushes, I
came upon a fine nest of the Redhead, canopied
over with the dry rushes, with thirteen Redhead
eggs and two of the Ruddy Duck, and then, still
another, in some long grass growing out of deep
water, very bulky and downy, with eleven Redhead
eggs and one of the Ruddy.

But it is not only amid grass and rushes that the
nests of Ducks are found, though many people sup-
pose this to be the case. To such a sight that I wit-
nessed would be a revelation. It was "Memorial

196

WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL

Day, ".and three of us were exploring a patch of
timber near the shore of a Dakota lake. Seeing a
knot-hole in an oak tree, about fifteen feet from the
ground, with a
piece of white
down clinging to
its edge, I called
to my friend to
and

come

BUT IT IS NOT ONLY AMID GRASS AND RUSHES THAT
THE NESTS OF DUCKS ARE FOUND." NEST OF AMER-
ICAN GOLDEN- EYE IN THE KNOT-HOLE, CONTAIN-
ING SEVEN EGGS

spect it, as a
probable nest of
the American
Golden - eye
Duck. No soon-
er were we all
under the tree
than we saw,
through a lower
crack, a movement within. Directly a brown head
appeared at the entrance, and the Golden-eye pro-
ceeded to come forth. But she had a hard time
of it. The hole was so small that a slender human
arm could hardly be inserted. The poor Duck
had to wriggle and twist back and forth like a
snake, I should think for ten seconds, ere she was
able to emerge and take to wing. It was a sin-
gular and interesting sight. Then I climbed the
tree and found that about two feet below the hole,
in a bed of soft, snowy down, there were ten large
fresh eggs of a greenish color. The cavity was so
small that they had to be piled in two layers. It
must have been the scarcity of suitable holes that
compelled the Duck to submit to such discomfort.

197

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

On a certain part of the shore of Devil's Lake
there is another similar area of timber, where, late
in June, during the tour described above, I had a
most fascinating time for several days with the
Golden-eyes. We had just encamped near-by, and
I was taking a preliminary stroll through the grove
that had some quite large trees, some of them being
mere decayed shells. At length I came to a stub
with a large round opening at the top of the main
trunk, about ten feet from the ground. No bird
flew at my rapping, nor was there any down visible
at the entrance. However, I though I would scram-
ble up and look in. About an arm's length from
the opening was a mass of white down and feathers
that filled the cavity. Reaching into it, I felt eggs—

a large number
of them. It
seemed as
though the count
would never
end, but I finally
ascertained that
the number was
sixteen, piled
there in a great
heap, two or
three deep.

With this en-
couragement I
began to look
for more holes. Only a few rods from this stub I
soon discovered another hole in a large tree, about
as high up as my head. Below it, about waist high,

198

" AT LENGTH I CAME TO A STUB WITH A LARGE ROUND
OPENING AT THE TOP OF THE MAIN TRUNK." NEST
OF AMERICAN GOLDEN - EYE CONTAINING SIXTEEN
EGGS

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

was an opening that someone had made with an
axe to get at a Duck's nest. There was down
around this lower hole, and through it I easily put
my hand on a set of seven eggs. Very near this
tree was the most likely opening of all, a great hol-
low almost large enough for a man to crawl in,
about twenty feet up a leaning oak. No down was
visible, but I felt certain that there must be a nest,
and my expectations were more than realized. As
I scrambled up, and my head was just opposite the
hole, whirring, thundering sounds issued from
within, and out went a female Golden-eye, with a
frightened murmur, almost in my face. I could
have seized her had I wished to. Peering in, I
counted eleven eggs at the bottom, in the usual
"feather bed." I could just reach them, and the
first one that I took out to examine I found was
pipped, the duckling chirping within.

The next day was very rainy, but it cleared in
the afternoon, and again I climbed the tree. I
never expect to see a prettier sight. The mother
lay at the bottom, surrounded by a beautiful flock
of black and white young. Some of them were on
the old Duck's back; others were under her, ap-
parently, and several of them were moving around
in the limited chamber, picking at the chips on the
bottom. Instantly the old bird caught sight of me.
Turning over partly on her side, she looked up
with a frip-htened expression, and hissed like a
snake. It was a most delectable little family scene.
After I had enjoyed it for a few moments I with-
drew from the hole and began rapping the tree.
It took a number of calls before the mother reluc-

199

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

tantly responded, and flew out, as before. Every
egg had hatched, and the little creatures were active
and well dried off, ready for their exit to the great
lake and the wide world. I hoped to see them
taken from the nest, but the next morning it was
rainy again, and, when I got there later in the day,
they had departed. Where the tree is over the
water, the young have been seen to leap out them-
selves; but other observers report that the old bird
usually carries them out one by one in her bill.

As hollow trees — or any others for that matter-
are not very plentiful in Dakota, and there are a
good many families of the American Golden-eye
and Hooded Merganser, like Abraham and Lot of
old the two kinds have wisely decided to separate.
The Golden-eyes seem to monopolize the hollow
trees by the lakes, the Mergansers those by rivers
The fact is that they prefer still and running water
respectively. In one trip that I made down the
Sheyenne River after the middle of June, I found
the pretty hooded fowl with the saw-like bills quite
abundant on the stream ; but a hollow, with green-
ish white egg-shells, from which the brood had
hatched and gone, indicated that we were too late
for eggs that season. The male Hooded Merganser
is a very striking bird, with his fine crest and con-
spicuous black and white plumage. I shall not for-
get how a pair of them on this river looked, as they
floated near together on its quiet surface. In sum-
mer the stream is but a few yards wide, so when I
crawled up through the bushes to the edge of the
bank just opposite the Ducks, I was very near,
indeed. They did not see me, and not until after

200

WiLD-FoWL OF WlLD-FoWL

some time spent in paddling about and dressing
their feathers did they fly off.

In my visit the past season to the lakes and
sloughs of this splendid prairie region, I renewed
my acquaintance with the Ducks and Geese, and
made some further observations. As it happened,
we found several nests of the Canada Goose, this
time in marshy sloughs, large platforms of stems
built in areas of broken-down rushes that made a
foundation above the surrounding water. It was
June, and we were too late, for only an addled egg
or two remained. The Geese lay usually early in
May, or even in April, it is said.

The Ducks seemed to be about as numerous as
before. On the islands they held their own well,
though not so many Scoters were nesting there.
But the presence of large flocks of them in differ-
ent bays showed that great numbers of them were
breeding in places along the shores, doubtless, from
others' observation, up on the adjoining prairie. I
noticed more mixed Ducks' sets than ever. We
found here nests of Gadwall, Baldpate and Scaup
that had each one or two Scoters' eggs in them,
and these first three also intermingled with one
another. A Ring-necked Scaup had a nest with
ten eggs. On June 22 I came upon a sight that I
had never witnessed before. A Shoveler flushed at
our feet from the grass, and there were ten young
in the nest, all dry, and ready to take to the water,
which they tried to do as soon as their mother left
them. One of the party put his hat over them

20 1

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

while I set up the camera and snapped at them
the instant the hat was removed. As soon as we
allowed them to they all streamed out of the nest,

and down the
bank into the
water, to join
their distressed
mother, who was
flapping about
near the shore
calling to them
i n a plaintive
manner. In one
patch of lowrose-
bushes there
were three
Ducks' nests
within less than
ten feet — a Sco-
ter's with twelve eggs, a Gadwall's with eleven, and
a Scaup's with ten — quite an aggregation, those
thirty-three eggs!

During a week's time that we spent among the
sloughs first mentioned in this chapter, from June
7 to 14, we found a considerable number of nests
of the Canvasback, Redhead, and Ruddy Ducks,
built out in the reeds over water averaging knee-
deep, all of which made a very interesting study.
The Ruddy Ducks were only just laying, and had
anywhere from one to ten eggs. These nests, un-
like the one previously mentioned, were well hidden
away in the reeds, usually in the midst of a large
clump or tract in the very thickest of the vegeta-

202

"A SHOVELER FLUSHED AT OUR FEET FROM THE GRASS,
AND THERE WERE TEN YOUNG IN THE NEST"

W ILD-FOWL OF W I L D - F O W L

tion, and canopied by the surrounding reeds being
drawn over them, and even twisted together. In
fact, some looked almost exactly like a larger type
of Rail's nests. As has been the experience of
others, we never could catch Mrs. Ruddy on the
nest. She always skulks off, and allows not even
a glimpse of herself.

The other two kinds usually remain sitting on
their eggs, flushing sooner, however, than the prairie-
nesting Ducks, when the intruder comes within ten
to fifteen paces.
The Redhead is
a great layer.
Some days I
found half a
dozen nests, most
of which had as
many as ten eggs,
several times fif-
teen, and once I
flushed a Red-
head from
twenty-two eggs — the largest set that I have ever
seen in the nest of any bird. The Canvasback usu-
ally had ten or eleven eggs, sometimes as few as
seven. One nest that I found was in a very large,
open clump, away out in the water. I saw it first
when the bird flew at some distance from me. There
were six eggs, and I visited it a few days later to see
if she had laid more. Mrs. Canvasback was asleep
on the nest, with her bill resting on her breast. I
stood within ten yards and watched her for several
minutes. Think of it! the famous Canvasback of

THE RUDDY DUCKS WERE ONLY JUST LAYING, AND
HAD ANYWHERE FROM ONE TO TEN EGGS . . .
WELL HIDDEN AWAY IN THE REEDS"

203

" THE REDHEAD IS A GREAT LAYER

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

the epicure at home in the northern wilds, out on
the lake, asleep in her ark — what a scene it was!

But for lack of
time I might
have managed to
photograph her
some day by ac-
customing her to
the sight of the
camera. At
length she raised
her head, and
saw me. For
an instant she
seemed para-
lyzed, then she stood up and, with a quick spring,
went flying off, just over the tops of the reeds.

The same six
eggs were there,
heavily incu-
bated I found
when I exam-
ined them more
closely. And I
s aw another
thing I had over-
looked before :
only two of the
eggs were her

THE SAME NEST OF REDHEAD, SHOWING SURROUNDINGS QWtt the OthCT

four being Redhead eggs. Not over a gunshot from
this spot, in a clump of reeds away out in the lake,
a quarter of a mile from shore, another Canvasback

204

WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL

"ANOTHER CANVASBACK HAD A NEST WITH SEVEN
EGGS OF HER OWN AND ONE OF A RUDDY DUCK"

had a nest with seven eggs of her own and one of
a Ruddy Duck. No further away was another Can-
vasback with eleven eggs that were about to hatch.
For a wonder,
these eggs were
all hers. Though
I imagine that
this tribe are all
busy bodies, I
consider the odd
little Ruddy as
the gre ate s t
adept at poking
her blue nose in-
to other duck-
people's busi-
ness. I saw a Canvasback on June 10 swimming
in this slough with five young. Whether the blood
of any of these was 'Ruddyn I could not tell,
though probably the eggs were laid early enough
to outwit that semi-parasite.

The breeding dates of these various Ducks
varies considerably with the earliness or tardiness
of the particular season. On my first trip I found
the season very backward. Many of the Ducks had
not finished laying by the first of June — the majority
not even then. But last spring they were very much
earlier, as the season opened warm and pleasant, and
the various species arrived at an early date. While
there is no exact time at which each species lays —
for individuals are very erratic — there is an average
date at which one can expect to find the bulk of a
species thus employed. The little calendar that I

205

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

give I would not set up against the observation of
others; it is simply the average of two seasons' con-
tinuous observation. Mallards and Pintails are nota-
bly the early birds, laying any time after the first of
May — occasionally before, I am told — though I
think that about May 20 one will find the greater
number of nests. By about this time, in ordinary
seasons, the Canvasbacks have laid and the Hooded
Mergansers. May 25 is about the right date for
Golden-eyes; June i for Teal, Shovelers, and Red-
heads; June 10 or later for Gadwalls and Ruddies;
June 15 and on for the Scaups and Baldpates, and
the ist of July for White-winged Scoter.

To make the acquaintance in the nesting season
of certain other Ducks which do not go to the re-
mote north, we shall have to explore the Atlantic
coast region. It is by no means as easy to find
them there as on the Great Plains, yet patient
searching will now and then be rewarded. Most
of the sea Ducks, such as the Scoters and Old-
squaws, migrate to Labrador or beyond. Some day
I hope to follow them, but as yet my wanderings
have not been extended north of the Magdalen
Islands. Yet there are some interesting Ducks even
there to be studied.

Away out by East Point is what is called u the
Great Pond," a shallow body of water certainly a
couple of miles long, occasionally inundated by the
sea, that breaks across the beach in storms. At its
east end are what the fishermen have named the
u Egg Nubbles," a number of tiny islets, on which

206

207

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

Terns and Ducks breed. At our first arrival we
visited them, and were disappointed not to find any
Ducks' nests, although there were scores of Ducks
of several kinds, mostly Red-breasted Mergansers,
feeding or flying about. We made the trip again
on the 29th of June. An easterly storm was raging,
and we droves even or eight miles over beach, dunes,
and barrens, in an old cart drawn by an ancient
white horse. Even in the thickest of winter cloth-
ing and overcoats we were shivering. Reaching
our destination, we tied the horse to a clump of
stunted spruces and waded out to the "Nubbles."

We had almost
reached the first
when a Dusky or
"Black" Duck
flushed from the
grass up from the
edge, leaving a
pretty, downy
nest with eight
fresh eggs that

A DUSKY DUCK FLUSHED FROM THE GRASS UP FROM
THE EDGE, LEAVING A PRETTY DOWNY NEST WITH
EIGHT FRESH EGGS"

1 1

*> C L J

b\C(l the CggS of

the Mallard. I was surprised to find fresh eggs of
this Duck so late, as, from our first arrival, we had
seen broods of young in the ponds, some of them
several weeks old. A few feet away, under a little
bush, a Merganser had scratched out a hollow, as
yet unlined, and had laid the first egg of her litter.
Then we waded across to the next islet, and here
found what I had hoped for. The fishermen all said
that "Bluebills," or Scaups, nested on these and

208

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

other islands. I had seen some of the birds and
was prepared for what now took place. Up flut-
tered a thick-set brown Duck, with white wing-bars,
from the grass a
couple of yards
up from the
shore. It was
unmistakably a
Scaup, and a
large specimen
at that. In a
typical, well-con-
cealed, down-
lined nest were
nine large, dark
brown eggs.
Their size, meas-
uring from two
and a half to two
and six-tenths inches in length, made it sure that
they belonged to the Greater Scaup. According to
the books, none of the Scaups had been known to
nest on the Atlantic coast.

The fisherman affirmed that Teal of both kinds
nested on the islands. For a time it seemed that
all my arduous wading and tramping would fail to
verify this. But on the afternoon of June 16, as I
was wearily dragging my heavy boots along the
edge of a slough, something suddenly went flap-
ping over the grass, out from under a projecting
spruce-bough that sprawled flat on the ground, on
which I had almost trodden. It was a female Blue-
winged Teal. I lifted the bough, and there were

209

" IN A TYPICAL, WELL-CONCEALED. DOWN-LINED NEST
WERE NINE LARGE DARK BROWN EGGS." NEST OF
GREATER SCAUP, MAGDALEN ISLANDS. "ACCORD-
ING TO THE BOOKS, NONE OF THE SCAUPS HAD
BEEN KNOWTN TO BREED IN EASTERN NORTH
AMERICA"

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

twelve eggs, about to hatch. After photographing
them I replaced the bough, and when I passed the
spot again two days later, scattered egg-shells told
of another brood added to the Duck-farm of the
Magdalen Islands.

We had poor success in finding " Shell-ducks' "
nests — as the Mergansers are here locally called.
A boy found an incomplete set under a spruce tree
in the woods, and a dog broke up a couple of simi-
larly placed nests on a densely -spruce-grown island,
but all I found was that one egg (mentioned above) .
Most of the females were still with their mates out
on the ponds, and evidently, this year at any rate,
incubation did not begin till July. Some of them
nest in the grass by the shores, but their general
practice is, I was told, to lay under the dense low
spruces, often well into the tangled woods, in
almost impenetrable thickets. Hence their nests

are very hard to
find, even when
the birds are in-
cubating. They
are very abundant
on these islands.
The eggs are of
a drab color, a
little lighter than
those of the

"I LIFTED THE BOUGH. AND THERE WERE TWhLVE O 1 nilif.p

EGGS, ABOUT TO HATCH." NEST OF BLUE-WINGED OCaUpS, aUQ C|UlLe

TEAL, MAGDALEN ISLANDS shlUJ . Thc'lT TC\-

atives, the Goosander and the Hooded Merganser,
as well as the American Golden -eye, are said to
breed in the eastern Provinces and in Maine, all

210

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

of them resorting to tree-hollows by the retired
lakes. The Red-head is also reported as nesting
rarely in this region.

It is quite surprising that while incalculable thou-
sands of the Eiders — known to fishermen and gun-
ners as "Sea Ducks " —pass up the St. Lawrence
on their way to Labrador and beyond, without even
stopping at the Magdalen Islands, quite a few of
them remain for the summer on various lonely
islands along the coast of Maine, New Brunswick,
and southern Nova Scotia. Owing to persecution,
they are usually very cunning in concealing the
whereabouts of the nests. They always cover them
with a profusion of the soft "eider-down " when
they have occasion to leave. If a boat appears, they
will even skulk from the weedy clumps or shelter-
ing bush, slip down to the water's edge and swim
off under water. I remember once, as we rowed
around a point of u No Man's Land," coming right
upon a female Eider that had probably just left her
nest somewhere up on the shore. At first she did
not try to dive, and she was so near that I leaned
over the side of the boat to lay hold of her. Im-
minent danger brought her suddenly to herself,
and the speedy plunge that followed was the last I
ever saw of her.

Once I caught the cunning Eider napping. It
was on Green Island, off Mt. Desert. I was follow-
ing a sort of grass-grown ledge, quite high up from
the water, when I almost trod on a female Eider,
sitting close. Her sudden start gave a decided,
though pleasant, shock to my nerves. I found a
bed of eider-down, — just as soft as it is reputed to

211

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

be, — and in it three greenish olive eggs, — the largest
laid by any of the Ducks, nearly as large as Goose
eggs, — were very cosily bedded.

When we come as far south as southern New
England, all we can hope to find of breeding Ducks
are the Dusky and the Wood Ducks, and it is no
easy matter to find even these. Usually it is more
by accident than otherwise. On Martha's Vineyard
I was once exploring an alder swamp for the home
of a pair of Marsh Hawks, when a great Dusky
Duck suddenly whirred up from beneath an alder,
almost in my face, and I found my first Duck's
nest with an even dozen fine eggs. This was the
second day of June, and they were almost ready

to hatch. An-
other time when
I was exploring
the rushy edge
of a pond in Con-
necticut, I no-
ticed a dark place
under some
rushes that
looked suspici-

m I

ON PULLING IT APART I FOUND ELEVEN WARM EGGS
OF THE DUSKY DUCK." FOUND IN KENT, CONN.

down.

it was

that, indeed, and on pulling it apart I found eleven
warm eggs of the Dusky Duck.

The Wood Duck is the most domestic of all
the tribe, and is very apt to nest in some most unex-
pected place, close to human habitations. I knew
of one nest in a knot-hole of a large maple, only six
feet from the ground, right on a well-traveled road

212

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

near a house. Hearing of a Duck being seen about
a certain farmer's barn, I climbed up on top of his
hay-mow, — the middle of May, it was — and dis-
covered a female Wood Duck sitting on ten eggs
in a hollow she had dug in the hay and lined with
down from her breast. She went in and out of a
hole near the eaves. The farmer said that during
her laying time she was absent all day, but at night
she and her mate sat on the ridge-pole of the roof,
and each morning when he entered the barn to
milk she flew out, having deposited another egg
since the evening before. Another equally interest-
ing bird, — possibly the same one, — made a nest the
next season in a barn two miles from this one,
and the farmer caught her on the nest. The
eggs are small and rather round, shiny, and of a
beautiful rich cream -color. The Wood Duck
finishes her laying, in southern New England, by
the middle of May, the Dusky Duck usually by the
last of April.

Altogether, I have found the nests and eggs
of nineteen species of Ducks and seen the young
of one other. A very interesting study it has been
to me, and I look upon these opportunities as an
inestimable privilege, which it was given not even
to the great Audubon to enjoy. The breeding
habits of most of these Ducks in his day were abso-
lutely unknown, and even to the present little has
appeared in books about them.

I have also enjoyed making a study of the
Ducks that come in the migratory flight to Massa-

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AMONG THE WATER FOWL

chusetts. This has meant many a watching with
hunters in the Duck-stands on various ponds,
chasing the Ducks on the ocean, or waiting in a
gunning-line for them to come to me.

It is very exciting to watch the approach of a
flock to one of these "stands," or "bowers," on
the shore of a pond. The flock first flies over
and begins to circle around the pond. The live
decoys set up their hoarse clamor of invitation.
At length they splash down out in the middle of
the pond near the "blocks" or wooden decoys.
Looking cautiously about, they get their bearings,
and begin to listen to the decoys. They do not
always yield to the treachery, but when they once
are deceived they swim in a body at a rapid rate
right for the stand. Suddenly the guns, pointed
through loopholes, blaze out at a concerted signal
and there is meat for the hunters' table. A great
many are thus taken in the ponds of southeastern
Massachusetts and elsewhere. The best season is
throughout October, especially about the middle,
after a storm, when a cold northwest gale starts
up. How they will fly, flock after flock, not only
in early morning and late afternoon, as at ordi-
nary times, but all day. Many kinds will be found
represented in the number of the slain.

Late in October the stands make ready for the
Canada Geese, some of them keeping large flocks
of tame Geese, bred from wild stock, for decoys.
Some of these decoys are wild birds that have been
winged by shot. In a few days such cripples will
become completely domesticated, and even eventu-
ally breed in captivity. November is the time for

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WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

the "wild Goose chase," and until the ponds freeze
up. If the migrating flocks are overtaken by thick
or stormy weather and alight in the ponds, they are
apt to fall easy prey. I have known of literally cart-
loads being taken off from these ponds after a night
of this kind.

The staple, standard fowl for the hunter is the
Dusky, or "Black" Duck, excellent for the table
and one of the wariest of them all. Next to it in
abundance, of the fresh-water Ducks, is the hand-
some Wood Duck. With these two, as residents, the
hunting season begins, and they are about all the
Ducks we have until with the early frosts the mi-
grants begin to appear. Pintails, Mallards, and Red-
heads come as often as any of this migratory class.
Sometimes when I have watched through a loophole
in the "stand" a bunch of Mallards or Redheads
out on the pond, the green or red heads of the
males glistening in the sunlight, I have felt that the
staid old New England pond was being born again.
Such glories seemed foreign — unnatural to it. I
wish it were possible that for five years, say, Duck-
shooting could absolutely cease, and the ponds be
again populated as they once were. Baldpates come
rather sparingly, usually single ones with other
Ducks, while the Gadwall, Shoveler, and Canvas-
back are only rare stragglers now. I fear this may
some day be the case with the little Ruddy Duck
that comes — when it does come — in considerable
flocks, and allows gunners to row up and extermi-
nate them. I have often known cases in which,
out of a large flock, not a single individual got
out of the pond alive.

2IC

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WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL

Though the Scaups are classed scientifically
among the " Sea Ducks," they seem to me to be
found almost as much on fresh water as on salt.
A great many of the Greater and Lesser Scaup
frequent the large ponds, and take good care of
themselves, not minding the decoys nor allowing
themselves to be approached. I have seen, and
taken, the Ring-necked Scaup occasionally. The
other Sea Ducks that come into the ponds, espe-
cially during the easterly storms, do not fare so well.
I refer to the three Scoters and the Oldsquaw, or
Long-tailed Duck. They seem bewildered, and will
not usually leave, though it cost them their lives.
The gunners soon see them, and paddle toward
them down -wind. The foolish Ducks wait for a
fusillade in the water, and then secure another, ris-
ing toward the boat. At length all are killed but
stragglers, which are followed up and shot sepa-
rately. Last fall, on October 11, I happened to be
in Berkshire county, Massachusetts, near Lake Buell,
and began to hear accounts of wonderful Duck-
shooting in the lake that day. Almost every family
in the community had Ducks hanging up in the
shed, — Surf and White-winged Scoters. There had
been a storm the day before, and toward night an
immense flock of these Scoters, probably lost and
wearied, settled down into the lake. Many were
killed that night and the next day. A hundred
and fifty-eight was the number of "casualties"
reported. Wild Geese are also addicted to similar
wanderings and disasters, especially in sleet storms,
during their flight. At such a time a flock of
them, when I was a boy, descended into our gar-

217

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

den, in the suburbs of Boston, and spent the night
under the currant bushes! We did not know of
it at the time, and our big dog kept some would-be
pot-hunters at bay, so the Geese escaped.

With the three Mergansers, especially the Hooded
and the Goosander, the little Buffle-head, the Amer-
ican Golden-eye, and the rare Barrows' Golden-eye,
the list is possibly exhausted of the Ducks that come
into the New England lakes and ponds. But the
seacoast is full of interest and wonders in that direc-
tion. South of Maine the Harlequin Duck and the
King Eider are so rare as to hardly enter into this
account, though I have personally known of their
capture on the Massachusetts coast. One of the
fine coastwise sights is the spring flight of the
Eiders. During the early days of April, a mile or
two off the Chatham bars, I have seen long lines
of them, coming all the time, pass by on their way
north. Each flock is led by a male, — a striking
creature with his white back, black under -parts,
and greenish head. The brown females alternate
with the males more or less irregularly, and the
string of the large, swiftly moving fowl, fifty to a
hundred or more in number, is an impressive sight.
If the wind happens to come on strong from the
southeast during this period, they often fly well in
around Monomoy Point, and are shot from the
beach by men concealed in pits. I have often
seen the flocks, hungry on their travels, turn into
Chatham bay and feed on the mussel-flats.

There, also, the Brant Geese resort in large

218

WILD-FOWL OF WILD-FOWL

numbers. I have watched flocks of them that
extended in a solid mass for literally acres. They
are exceedingly shy, and though such a flock will
always rise a long distance away, the roar of the
many wings comes to one as the sound of thunder.
The flats about Monomoy Point are notable as the
great Brant- shooting ground of New England,
where the shy fowl are taken by means of shooting-
boxes sunk in the sandbars, which latter are often
artificially made for this purpose. A big string of
Brant at the depot or in the baggage-car is a familiar
sight. The Brant are also taken in the fall flight
in the various " cooting-lines " along the coast. I
have seen hordes of them there pass by, but they
almost invariably sheer off to sea, and go around
the end of the line, much to the disappointment of
the men in the boats. One day I certainly thought
that the Brant were about to violate their safe cus-
tom. A fine bunch were flying low, and coming
right for the boat next to mine. I fairly held my
breath, as I expect did the two men in that boat.
The Brant were within a hundred yards, and seemed
doomed, when some one fired a shot at a passing
Loon, and the Geese turned and went back. I
saw one of the men take off his cap and hurl it
down at the bottom of the boat in a rage.

Another of the prime wild-fowl sights of such
bays as Chatham is the exit of the Oldsquaws at
sundown. They feed during the winter days up at
the head of the bay. To see or shoot them, one
should anchor in a skiff in the middle of some
narrow channel. At length there will come a con-
fused chorus of weird cries, resembling the music

219

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

of a pack of hounds on the trail, — and music indeed
it is. Presently a line of fowl will appear, sweeping
down the channel. They do not always seem to
notice the boat, and I have often had them double
right by the bow when I sat up to shoot. I think
that there is no swifter flier among birds than this
garrulous "Squaw," and if one is to hit such a
mark very often, he must be an adept. Going at
such tremendous velocity, when one is brought
down, I have been amazed at the distance that its
momentum will carry it, ricochetting over the water,
before it can stop. They appear to rest on the open
sea at night, where they are quite safe from moles-
tation. On cold, still days they sit in flocks on the
wrater and their chatter, which often seems to re-
solve itself into major thirds, is to me one of the
finest sounds of Arctic-like nature at this season.

The Golden-eyes also feed in the bays, and, hid-
den in a seaweed "blind," one can toll them up
with wooden decoys, and have good sport. As
spring approaches, the Sheldrakes, or Mergansers,
especially the Reb-dreasted, become more numer-
ous,— the males now splendid with their green-
crested head-dress,— and come readily to the decoys.
The little Bufrle-head— Teal- like — skims over the
bays and dodges the hunter by swimming under
ice-fields, coming up beyond. I learned this lesson
once when I had a flock cornered in such a way
that I thought they could not escape when they
undertook to dive. I waited and waited, and pres-
ently saw them away off in another lane of water.

When the bays are frozen over all but a narrow
channel, the fishermen turn from fish to fowling,

220

WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL

and, clad in white, build ice-stands along the edge
of the channel, and shoot large numbers of the
unwitting fowl that follow the lane of water.

The coastwise spring migration becomes appar-
ent during the last half of March, reaches its height
in the first half of April, and is practically over early
in May, the procession ending with large loitering
flocks of the Scoters, late breeders as they appear
to be. In the return flight of autumn flocks of male
Scoters will put in an appearance as early as the lat-
ter part of August. Then in September some of
the young appear, but there are no great numbers
till October, and not till nearly November, or until
the frosts become severe, do some of the hardier
sea Ducks and the Geese arrive. There are consid-
erable differences in their manner of migration.
Most of them, it is true, follow the coast line, but
individual flocks keep just out of gunshot from the
shore, while others fly miles from land. The direc-
tion of the wind has much to do with this. With a
strong wind blowing on shore, most of them fly
close in, while on calm days they are apt to be far out.
Moreover, some species, as the Scoters, Oldsquaws
and Eiders, ordinarily fly low over the water, though
they often will rise if they suspect danger, while the
Mergansers, Scaups, Golden-eyes or "Whistlers,"
and most of the others, are apt to fly high.

Conditions of wind have also much effect upon
the number of fowl to be seen in migration, even
in the height of the season. Some days almost no
birds are seen, while on others thousands are
passing. The strengthening east wind preceding a
storm is a great time for a flight. An east wind is

221

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

nearly always good, though it is apt to make the sea
rough for boats. The gunners at Cape Sable, Nova
Scotia, think that the first day of a southerly wind
is one of the best times. Low temperature also
helps to keep the fowl on the move. The worst
weather for a flight is a pleasant, warm day, calm or
with an off-shore wind. The time of the day is also
a factor. The first two or three hours after dawn
are the best. Often fowl fly well all the morning,
but usually by noon, or at the latest the middle of
the afternoon, the flight is about over, though
occasional flocks may be seen till dusk.

Under the head of the Scoters, or "Coots," as
the gunners call them, come three different sorts.
The Surf Scoter is the commonest. The handsome
black male, with white on the head, is popularly
called the " Skunk-head Coot," as though it were a
different species from its mate and young, which
are known as the common "Gray Coot." Next in
abundance is the "White-winged Coot," distin-
guishable by its larger size and white bar on each
wing. The main plumage of the male is black,
while the females and young are of a duller, more
rusty hue. Last, yet fairly common, is the Ameri-
can or Black Scoter, nicknamed "Butter-bill Coot,"
on account of the conspicuous patch of yellow skin
at the base of the bill, about the color of a lump of
butter. It is only the male that has this and is thus
named, its whole plumage being deep black. The
female and young are confused with those of the
Surf Scoter under the name of " Gray Coot." The
best way to tell them apart — which very few gunners
can do — is by the bill, the plumage being a good

222

WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL

deal alike. The Surf Scoter, whatever the age or
sex, has a large, swollen sort of bill, whereas the
bill of the other species is more like that of the
Dusky or " Black" Duck,

Besides the Scoters, the Oldsquaws and Red-
breasted Mergansers, or Sheldrakes, are the other
two most common species encountered in this line-
shooting, though various other Ducks are sometimes
obtained. The other kinds, except the Eiders, are
more accustomed to fly high, and will not mind
decoys on the open sea. The Golden-eyes and
Scaups, or " Blue-bills," are usually rather common.
They ordinarily fly high and keep away from the
boats. The Mergansers, too, like high flights, but
often break this rule — to their sorrow. It is a very
singular habit of some of these fowl, when flying
high over a gunner, upon his utterance of a shout
or a shrill whistle, suddenly to check their onward
flight and pitch or drop almost straight down, thus
putting themselves in range of the deadly fusillade.

I wish I could adequately describe a scene which
I witnessed on the old Pilgrim coast at Manomet
one 5th of November. Flying gray clouds covered
the sky. The wind was northeast, and increasing
every hour. A few boats went out early but soon
came in, as the seas were becoming dangerous.
Low over the frothing ocean flew lines and clouds
of wild-fowl, scudding from the north before the
blasts. They were in sight all the time. Before
one flock had passed southward, several more were
to be seen coming, at times six or eight flocks in
sight at once. By ten the rain began to beat spite-
fully on our faces as we stood on the bluff with

223

AMONG THE WATER FOWL

awed spirits watching Nature in her passion. By
noon the wind had reached hurricane force. Flocks
of fowl were fairly hurled in over the rocks, many
of them to be shot down by the " station" men,
and others, who stood ready. I made no effort to
estimate the number of that day's flight. Thou-
sands upon thousands there were, and ot all kinds.
The surf thundered in upon the rocks, and clouds
of spray flew up over the top of the bluff. It was
a wild, an awful night. Wakeful we lay in our
beds that rocked as the avalanches of atmosphere
were hurled upon the frail, trembling cottage.

In the morning when I opened the door and
stepped out, a blast struck me that made me gasp
for breath and cling to the railing. Blinded with
the stinging sleet, I could not see whether fowl
were flying or not. A neighboring barn had dis-
appeared, lying in fragments on the rocks around
the Point. Everything was white with snow. Win-
ter had come upon land, ocean, and wild-fowl.

YOUNG DUSKY DUCK, MAGDALEN ISLANDS
224

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