Among the Water-Fowl 



of squadrons of miniature ships riding at anchor in 

 some harbour. At length I gave up lishing, and 

 rowed off from the vessel in the heavy keel tender, 

 right among the birds that would hardly get out of 

 my way, so tame were they. I think I had not 

 realized how many there were till I came to an 

 almost solid mass of them that covered acres of 

 water. It seemed that such a flock would certainly 

 be shy. Not so ; as I rowed toward them they 

 hardly deigned to notice me, and when I was very 

 close, instead of flying, they merely swam to one 

 side, opening up a sort of lane through their ranks, 

 through which I rowed, after which they simply 

 closed up again. 



Being so near them, I was able to learn accur- 

 ately what species were represented in this host. 

 Nearly all proved to be the Northern Phalarope, 

 the smallest kind, but there were a few of the Red 

 Phalarope, — a slightly larger and plumper bird, — 

 scattered through their ranks. Some of these had 

 still a few ruddy feathers in the breast, the last 

 remnants of the summer plumage ; but most of 

 them were now white-breasted, and bluish gray on 

 the back. At a distance it was not easy to dis- 

 tinguish the two kinds apart by colour alone. The 

 fishermen had told me that for the last two weeks 

 they had not seen any more of the red-breasted 

 ones. They did not know that this was simply due 

 to the moult, and that the birds were really there 

 all the time. 



So much interested was I in the Phalaropes that 

 I failed to observe the approach of a Nova Scotia 

 fog. The first thing I knew I had lost the vessel. 



122 



