126 Birds of Lakeside and Prairie 



it stood in the lush grasses of the island. When the heron 

 reached the tree toward which it flew, it took perch on a dead 

 limb and there silhouetted against the sky made a perfect 

 bird picture. 



We left the green heron staring at the sky and once more 

 pulled hard against the stream. Our destination now was 

 English Lake proper, which opens out to the right and left of 

 the railroad bridge. Beneath this structure the contracted 

 Kankakee sweeps swiftly. By the time of the year of our 

 visit, well into the month of May, the lake was a lake in 

 name only, though the land in many places was still under 

 water. About half a mile above the bridge we saw ahead of us 

 on the open water a great flock of ducks. Our glasses told us 

 beyond much doubt that the birds were blue-bills, more scienti- 

 fically known, perhaps, as scaup ducks. We pulled directly to- 

 ward the flock. What follows shows how quickly wild birds 

 gain confidence after the shooting season closes. We reached a 

 point well within gunshot of the blue-bills before they paid 

 any attention to us. We had no advantage of cover whatso- 

 ever. A month before these same birds would have been up 

 and off while the boat even to their keen vision had been but 

 a black dot upon the water. We drew closer. One of the 

 ducks rose and in another instant the whole air was awhir 

 with their wings. I was kneeling on the forward seat of the 

 boat looking ahead through my glasses at the blue-bills. 

 Suddenly I heard the squawk of a duck within four feet of 

 me. I turned in amazement and found that the duck's cry, 

 so true to nature, was coming from between the lips of my 

 companion. He was calling the blue-bills. The birds heard 

 that counterfeit call, and deceived completely, circled and 

 swept by within a few yards of our boat. Wary as the birds 



