896 THE LOON. 



l)cha\i(ir iipnii land. Siiu'c the feet are placed so far baek, it must stand nearly 

 ui)right, ])enguin-fashicjn, and its walk is an awkward, shutiling perfi)rni- 

 aiice; or else, as is more likely to be the case, the bird flounders along on 

 all fours. It is said not to be al)le to take wing from the ground at all. 

 In rising from tlie water the bird humps over in an agony of effort, rising 

 only by slow stages, first b_\' threshing the surface of the water with wings 

 and feet, then by combined rimniug and flying, until the feet clear at last, 

 and the asjjirant attains a ])roper motion. Once started, the Loon's flight 

 is swift and powerful, the wings accomplishing by rapid vibration what they 

 lack in expanse. But the most helpless act of the Loon's life is that of alighting. 



One earl\' April (hi\' upon an interinr lake, the autlmr with a companion 

 had the combined gcjod-and-ill-fortune to be caught out in a skiff at the 

 approach of a violent storm. There was a considerable Ifight of Loons in 

 progress: liut nian\' of the birds being warned In- the storm signs, began 

 to settle friim in\isible heights toward the welcoming lake. This they did, 

 not bv inclining the wings, but bv moving in small circles, with wing beat 

 restrained to an apparent minimum: thus sinking slnwly thru the operation 

 of gravity. As they neared earth, the earlier arrivals circled overhead in 

 statelv squads, and exchanged greetings or inquiry with others already seated 

 u])on the water. A soft, mellow, mirthless laugh, H'ltoiii/li. Iuid Iioo, would 

 ring out o\-er the lake and be answered from a distance, ])erha])s a luile away. 

 When the mind of a new-comer was thoroly made up to the painful necessity, 

 say at a hundred vards, he ceased beating the air. set the wings stiffly, and 

 began to fall obliquel_\- toward the water. No doubt he dreads the shock, 

 but the very desperation of resohe is painted on every feature, till — crash! 

 goes the luckless fowl and is nii nnentarilv lost to sight in the upheaval of 

 waters. Some fall like spent lueteors, until it would seem they must perish 

 in the shock, or at least break bones : especially, since the bird invariably 

 strikes the water with outspread wings. No casualties result, however, and 

 a few, more expert, come at such a low angle as to distribute the force of 

 impact in a long furrow. Talk about "shooting the chutes"; it was no Yankee 

 who inxented that game. It was a Loon. 



I'ast and faster came the descending birds, and less and less pains did 

 thev take with tlie manner of descending until, when the storm-cloud burst in 

 good earnest with an all-obliterating crash of rain, the last Loon had been gath- 

 ered to his fellows, and the birds raised an exultant clmrus of wierd laughter. 



Because of its infirmity nf gait, the Loon usually nests ipiite near the wa- 

 ter's edge, on some wood-bound lake or solitary mountain mere, so that it may 

 glide into the water unobserveil. at the approach of danger. And because the 

 eggs are of such a perfect mud-color themselves, there is little attempt made to 

 conceal the nest. On the contrary, a position on some promontory, or project- 

 ing log. is chosen, so that the l)ii"il ni.ay comiuan<l with its watchful eye a wide 



