80 MEMOIRS OF THE NUTTALL ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB. 



4 [7] Gavia imber (Gunn.). 

 Loon ; Great Northern Diver. 



Abundant transient visitor, common in winter ; a few non-breeding birds 

 pass the summer ; September 1 to June 5 (July and August). 



The Loon is a familiar bird along the coast. In the migrations they fly 

 singly and in flocks of four or five, while on rare occasions as many as twelve 

 have been seen together. At these seasons they occasionally drop into the 

 ponds but as a rule the ocean is where they are chiefly to be found. One may 

 be at some distance from the water and hear their loud mournful call, and 

 looking up, see these huge, cutter-built birds piercing the air with great speed. 

 Their long pointed bills and necks are stretched straight out in front, their great 

 feet stick out like a rudder behind, and their small pointed wings move with 

 marvelous rapidity to support the great body. I remember years ago at Man- 

 chester shooting one of these fellows as he flew over a field on a winter's 

 morning. Although he was killed, his impetus carried him a long distance, and 

 he finally brought up at a stone wall. As a rule the shot patter harmlessly 

 against the well feathered sides of these birds, a fatal penetration occurring only 

 by a lucky or unlucky accident. On the water it is almost impossible to shoot 

 them, owing to their wariness and the rapidity with which they dive. In fact 

 they are approaching the wingless condition, as they are more at home under the 

 water than in the air, and it is evident that they can advance faster under water 

 than on its surface. Thus on one occasion I was watching a -Loon swimming 

 about, dipping his head under water from time to time on the lookout for food. 

 The cry of another Loon was heard at a distance and my friend immediately 

 dove in the direction of the other, and, appearing on the surface for a moment, 

 dove again and again until he reached his companion. At another time on the 

 Maine coast while watching a flock of young Red-breasted Mergansers swim- 

 ming off the shore, I noticed a movement as of a large fish on the water outside. 

 The Mergansers at once flapped in alarm along the surface of the water towards 

 the shore where I was hidden and I soon saw that a Loon was chasing them, 

 following them under water. The Mergansers gained the shore and scrambled 

 up on the rocks, while the disappointed Loon swam about outside. On calm 

 days Loons do not rise from the water, and they are probably unable to do so. 

 A fisherman told me of catching a Loon on a calm clay in a narrow inlet of the 

 ice from which escape by diving was impossible. 



Nothing is more weird and mournful than the wail of this bird heard at 

 night, or more diabolical than its ringing " laughter " as it is called. 



