AMONG THE WaTER-FowL 
isle, whereon I had hoped to warm myself, proved 
to be a delusion; and I realized that submersion 
did not make me a Grebe, for I was already shud- 
dering with the cold. So, hurriedly placing a tew 
sets. of eggs in’ the creel thatol had dragged out 
over the water, I reluctantly returned from my bird- 
slumland, and made for the shore, which I finally 
reached, shivering and shuddering, after being three- 
quarters of an hour in the icy water. Though it 
was an uncomfortable experience, I was more than 
repaid by what I had seen. My one sorrow was 
that it was impracticable to use the camera. 
Rush Lake is an area some twelve miles long and 
four wide, with water only waist deep, out of which 
grows long grass and occasional patches of tall 
rushes. Years ago, it is said to have been entirely 
open, but now even an open lane is a Fanityen ree 
settler piloted us to it the first day. After walking 
a mile or more, he suddenly announced—“ Well, 
here we are.” ‘But where is the lake,” I asked, 
looking perplexedly over the grassy plain? “This 
is it, right before you,’ was the reply. My first 
feeling was of great disappointment, but as Ducks of 
all sorts began to fly out in squadrons along the 
margin, I was soon reassured. 
The day after the Grebe colony incident, I spent 
the morning alone near the west end of Rush Lake; 
if end, indeed there was, my friend agreeing to 
drive the team up for me after dinner. In time, I 
waded out to quite an open lead of water, adjoining 
which many Coots had their nests in the grass. 
Over near the other side were fifty or more Eared 
Grebes swimming about, evidently another colony. 
6 
