116 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



The flocks during the fall flight are not so large and do not follow one an- 

 other in such rapid succession as in the spring; and though they arrive from 

 the east in the same stringing order, they huddle into a compact body as they 

 whirl along the line of stakes and out over the beach. 



Mr. Hersey contributes the following notes on the fall migration : 



No one who has not observed the migration of the king eider along the Arc- 

 tic coast of Alaska can realize the enormous abundance of this species in the 

 north. The southward migration was well under way when we left Kotzebue 

 Sound early in August, 1914, and started northward for Point Barrow. When 

 we reached Icy Cape we encountered ice, and by the time we were off Wain- 

 wright Inlet the ice conditions were so bad and the wind so unfavorable that 

 the captain decided it was not prudent to go further until the wind changed. 

 We spent the time from August 10 to 20 lying off Wainwright Inlet waiting 

 for a change of wind, and during these days migrating flocks of king eiders 

 were constantly passing. The birds travel mostly in large flocks of 75 to 

 350 birds, following the shore line but keeping at least a mile from land. 

 They spread out in a long line, the birds flying nearly abreast, but in the larger 

 flocks quite a few will be bunched toward the center, or sometimes two or three 

 small parties of 10 to 20 birds will follow directly in back of the main line. 

 There is an undulating motion to these flocks when seen at a distance similar 

 to that of a flock of Canada geese. They fly some 30 or 40 feet above the 

 water or ice and follow in what appears to be the exact course of the flock 

 that had passed a few moments before. During the 10 days that this migra- 

 tion was under observation there appeared to be no diminution in the numbers 

 of birds coming out of the north. A flock would appear on the horizon to 

 the northeast, fly steadily toward us to a certain point where they always 

 swerved away from the ship, pass at a distance of a quarter of a mile, and a 

 moment later disappear in the southwest. Turning our faces to the northeast 

 again another flock would be seen coming into view at the same point on the 

 horizon where the last birds had appeared and pressing steadily on along the 

 same flight line. Throughout the entire 10 days there was hardly a quarter 

 hour in which a flock of birds was not passing, and often more than one 

 flock was in sight. The migration moved on without interruption from day- 

 break, which at this time of year takes place between 3 and 4 in the morning, 

 until the sun sets, about 9 p. m. The flight of one of these migrating flocks 

 seems slow, probably on account of the wavy motion of the line of birds, but 

 when they finally sweep past it is seen that they are really flying swiftly, 

 and there is a roar of wings audible for a long distance. 



Winter. — To visit the winter haunts of the king eider on the New 

 England coast, one must be prepared to brave the rigors of the cold, 

 rough sea in the most exposed places; for these hardy birds do not 

 come until wintry conditions have made offshore boating far from 

 comfortable, and they prefer to frequent the outer ledges which at 

 that season are almost always unapproachable. I can well remember 

 a December morning on the coast of Maine, the first chance after a 

 week of waiting for a day smooth enough to reach the outer islands, 

 when we started long before daylight for a little eider duck shooting. 

 Fifteen miles or more we had to go in our little launch to reach the 

 ledges where we were to shoot. With the first signs of daylight and 



