LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 263 



ham, November 1, 1895), Long Island (Jamaica Bay, October 20, 

 1876, Great-South Bay, October 16, 1919, and Farmingdale, Novem- 

 ber 28, 1922), North Carolina (Currituck Sound, October 31, 1870, 

 and November 22, 1892), and Vermont (Marshfield, 1878). 

 Egg dates. — Spitsbergen : Nine records, June 25 to 28. 



PHILACTE CANAGICA (Sevastianoff) 

 EMPEROR GOOSE 



HABITS 



The handsomest and the least known of American geese is con- 

 fined to such narrow limits, both in its breeding range and on its 

 migrations, that it has been seen by fewer naturalists than any other 

 goose on our list. On the almost inaccessible, low, marshy shores of 

 Alaska, between the mouths of the Yukon and Kuskokwim Eivers, 

 it formerly bred abundantly; but recent explorations in that region 

 indicate that it has been materially reduced in numbers during the 

 past 30 years. My assistant, Mr. Hersey, who spent the season of 

 1914 at the Yukon delta, saw less than a dozen birds, where Doctor 

 Nelson found it so abundant in 1879. The decrease is partially, if 

 not wholly, due to the fact that large numbers are killed every 

 year and their eggs taken by the natives, even within the limits of 

 what is supposed to be a reservation. 



Spring. — For what we know about the life history of the em- 

 peror goose we are almost wholly indebted to that pioneer naturalist. 

 Dr. Edward W. Nelson, who fortunately has given us a very good 

 account of the habits of this species. I shall quote freely from his 

 writings, mainly from his educational leaflet on this species, in which 

 he (1913) writes: 



At the border of the Yukon delta, Esqtiimos familiar with the country were 

 emploj'ed to lead us to the desired nesting ground of the emperor goose. 

 Nearly half a day's journey among the maze of ice-covered channels of the 

 delta brought us to a low, flat island, where our guide assured me many na- 

 chau-ihUik would soon arrive to rear their young. It was a bare, desolate 

 spot, with only a few scattered alders on the upper side of the islands, and 

 an unbroken view out over the frozen sea to the west. A tent was put up on 

 a slight rise and, after a stock of driftwood had been gathered, the guides took 

 the sledge and left me with my Esquimo companion to await the arrival of 

 the birds. Later, when the ice went out, they returned for me with kyaks. 



A few white-fronted and cackling geese gave noisy evidence of their presence, 

 but it was not until May 22 that the Esquimo brought in the first emperor 

 goose — a male in beautiful spring plumage. After this, small flocks came in 

 rapidly until they were plentiful all about us. They arrived quietly, skimming 

 along near the ground, quite unlike the other geese, which appeared high 

 overhead with wild outbursts of clanging cries, which were answered by those 

 already on the ground. The river channels and the sea were still covered with 

 ice, and the tundra half covered with snow, at the time of the first arrivals. 



