Oclcber, 1919] 



The Canadian Field-Naturalist 



Aj 



aspect of the surrounding hills. Much of the color 

 has gone ; the narrow wooded coulees, that were 

 like tongues of flame against the brown grassy 

 slopes, are now subdued in color and merge with 

 their surroundings. The leaves have fallen, only 

 the delicate tracery of naked branches is seen. 

 Along the shore line, the cottonwoods are still a 

 blaze of orange, but many of their leaves have fallen 

 too and cover the ground with a rustling golden 

 carpet. The higher mountains. Terrace, Goat and 

 Silver Star, are crowned with glittering snow-caps 

 and the close ranks of fir for some distance below 

 the bald summits are frosted with the silver of the 

 first snow. As yet, there is no frost in the valley, 

 so sitting motionless in the blind entails no dis- 

 comfort and bird-life is still plentiful enough to 

 absorb all one's attention. In the brush to the 

 north, a Western Meadowlark is whistling, his 

 clear flute-like notes as vivid as if it were April 

 instead of November. A flock of brown backed 

 Juncos are flitting through the trees cr alighting on 

 the sand and in the alders a sweet-vciccd crowd of 

 Pallid Goldfinches have gathered. 



From far down the beach comes the unmistak- 

 able sonorous call of a Sandhill Crane, decidedly 

 a belated migrant. He flies slowly along the shore 

 with splendid slow wingbeats, head carried well 

 forwaid, the neck slightly curved and legs held 

 stiffly behind. He is attended by two softly-flying 

 Short-eared Owls, that follow a few yards to the 

 rear. As the crane nears the blind, he becomes sus- 

 picious and bears off to the north, the owls still 

 following. He reaches the beach again in a wide 

 circle and once more flys towards the blind, hesi- 

 tates again and after rising higher in the air flys 

 off, first to the north and then to the west where 

 he IS lost to view against the neutral-colored back- 

 ground of the hills. The owls do not follow but 

 fly back towards the grassy meadows from whence 

 they came and as they pass the blind, the sunlight 

 burnishes their tawny wings until they shine like 

 gold. 



Along the eastern shore line, about two hundred 

 yards out from the beach, a great flock of Redheads 

 have congregated over a bed of Poiamogeton and 

 their feeding call, a cat-like meoTV comes softly 

 across the water. Into this large raft, small flocks 

 are continually flying, one sees a successicn of 

 splashes on the still water as the birds hurl them- 

 selves in and are carried by the momentum of their 

 flight for several yards along the surface. Many 

 cf the new arrivals are Scaups and these feed 

 among the flock of Redheads, but the Canvas Backs 

 as a rule feed only with others of their kind. A 

 big flight of these occurred during the past few 



days. It is rarely one sees more than a dozen at 

 one time, but during this migration flocks of twenty 

 or thirty were common and probably two or three 

 hundred were present at one time. As they readily 

 fly toward the half-dozen canvass-back decoys, it 

 IS plain they are new-comers. 



Close to the fringe of rushes on the shallow water 

 near shore, a band of fifteen Ring-neck Ducks 

 alight and immediately begin to feed. They are 

 new arrivals and hungry; frequently all are below 

 the surface together. More than half of them are 

 drakes and as they rise to the surface, the white 

 barred bill and the white triangle on the chin serve 

 as diagnostic field-marks. The strings of weed 

 brought to the surface trailing from their bills are 

 hurriedly gulped and they dive for another mouth- 

 ful. After feeding for forty minutes, their appetites 

 are satisfied, so they rest on the surface for ten 

 minutes longer, dressing their feathers and then 

 paddle in regular alignment to the deep water and 

 safety. 



A single female Scaup swims towards the de- 

 coys, calling at regular intervals with a singular un- 

 duck-like voice, l(iil(coo, l(uf(coo. The first syl- 

 lable too short and explosive, the second exactly the 

 coo of a pigeon. 



Small bands of Buffle Head fly past, seldom more 

 than two or three feet above the water. They 

 swerve down to the Redhead flock but usually carry 

 on a little beyond them, to the shallow water. The 

 strikingly black and white adult drakes are in the 

 minority. The young drake can be told from the 

 ducks by their greater size, otherwise they are 

 identical. When diving for food they are amaz- 

 ingly quick in their actions, coming to the surface 

 with more buoyancy than other diving ducks. They 

 are equally quick in the air, rising with a spring 

 and without the preliminary splashing o ne as- 

 sociates with diving ducks. 



Four Killdeer are heard down the beach and 

 presently they fly past the blind conspicuous and 

 noisy, to alight again a few yards away where they 

 seem to disappear into the sand, so well do the 

 neutral colored backs harmonize with the beach. 



The half-dozen Herring Gulls that make a daily 

 pilgrimage in the wake of the steamer have been 

 joined by an equal number of the smaller California 

 Gulls. These are fully adult birds with immaculate 

 breasts that are visible from a long distance as the 

 birds rest on the water. Red-shafted Flickers, 

 Magpies, a Northern Shrike and a Kingfisher visit 

 the beach during the day and in the evening out- 

 lined against a pastel tinted sky appears a triangle of 

 Canada Geese, southward bound a fitting climax 

 to a perfect day. 



