LIFE HISTORIES OP NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 291 



They always select places where they can reach their food by the lengths of 

 their necks, as they have never, so far as I can learn, been seen in this part 

 of the world to dive under the water, either for food or safety. 



Whistling swans are still abundant in winter on Bay Back, Vir- 

 ginia, and Currituck Sound, North Carolina, where, according to 

 recent accounts, they are holding their own or even increasing in 

 numbers. I have seen from 1,000 to 1,500 birds there in a day, as 

 recently as 1916, standing in long white lines along the grassy shore 

 of some marshy island, or feeding in large flocks, sometimes of two 

 or three hundred birds, in the shallow waters of the bay, always con- 

 spicuous as striking features of these great wild-fowl resorts. Their 

 chief companions here are the Canada geese, with whom they are 

 intimately associated on their feeding grounds and on whom they 

 depend largely, as sentinels to warn them of approaching danger, 

 for the geese are even more watchful than the swans. But here, as 

 well as on the lakes visited on their migration, they are also asso- 

 ciated with the various ducks which resort to similar feeding 

 grounds. They usually flock by themselves, however, when on the 

 wing and do not mingle in the flocks of geese and ducks. They 

 move about largely in family parties of 6 or 7 birds, but often gather 

 together in large flocks to feed or to rest ; large flocks are also often 

 seen moving about, sometimes high in the air, calling to their fel- 

 lows with loud mellow trumpetings in their search for quiet and 

 safe feeding or resting places. 



Nathan L. Davis (1895), writing of their winter habits on the 

 coast of Texas, says : 



I first saw them on Galveston Bay on January 1, and observed them every 

 day until March 20, when there seemed to be but a very few left; all remam- 

 ing on that date I think were crippled birds, being unable to stand the fatigue 

 in their long journey to the north. It is a great sight to watch a flock of 

 these birds assembled on the water, curling their long necks around each 

 other, all making a strange honking noise, peculiar to themselves. This 

 they continue for some time, then all turn with military precision and fonn 

 in line; when they swim up and down the coast, proudly swaying thedr 

 heads from side to side. In this manner they spend most of the bright days. 

 They can be easily seen far out on the bay, their large white bodies glistening 

 in the sun, as the restless waves toss their corklike forms above the level of the 

 water. At first sight I could not distinguish whether the silvery spots rising 

 on the waves were swans or the water breaking over some treacherous sand- 

 bar, which are common both in Galveston and San Jacinto Bays. Each day 

 as the sun begins to go down they turn and slowly approach the shore, each 

 keeping a sharp lookout ahead. If frightened any way they will either turn 

 and swim quietly away or all take wing and survey the country for miles 

 around before they will again settle on the water. Often small flocks may 

 be seen in company with ducks, geese, pelicans, and gulls, but usually they 

 will be found alone at some distance from all other birds, as well as hum*«a 

 habitation. They are very hard to approach on a bright day, and hunting for 

 them in clear weather is like fishing for trout in a thunderstorm. The dense 



