THE SUBMERGED TENTH 
kept low in the reeds, and now and then waved my 
handkerchief above them. The Loons at once 
began to watch, and then gradually to swim in, 
until they were within twenty yards of me. They 
swam back and forth in front of me, keeping close 
together, their snowy breasts and steel-blue necks 
¥ 
a 
ANOTHER NEST OF THE GREAT LOON ON DRY STONY SHORE OF 
SMALL ISLAND IN LAKE—MAINE. BY A. C. BENT 
reflected upon the mirror-surface, just beyond the 
reflection of the reeds and of the poplar forest. It 
was one of the memorable bird-sights of my life. 
Anxious as I was to see the nest of the Loon, 
the account given by a settler of a small lake two 
miles beyond the camp, where a pair of Loons 
were always to be seen, aroused my enthusiasm. 
The next day, June 15, was ushered in by a furious 
45 
