THE WHITE-WINGED SCOTER. 813 
sparingly resident in summer, their numbers are greatly augmented in October 
and early November and their ranks are normally depleted again by the first of 
May. Speaking roughly, they are everywhere during the winter season; but, 
more accurately, they are stretched out in a thin line which closely parallels the 
eight hundred miles of shoreline which our great inlet, with its tributaries, 
boasts. If their distribution were platted, black spots or patches would appear 
on our diagram opposite the smaller bays and minor estuaries, while heavy 
shading, or “‘scumble,” would be required to indicate their abundance in nar- 
row passages. 
The precise alignment of this great black army is determined in part by 
the range of a shotgun, and more, perhaps, by the outlines of the reefs, mussel- 
beds, and barnacle-covered rocks which extend along our shores. The birds 
follow the fortunes of the tide thruout the day, feeding greedily as the retreat 
of the water makes otherwise unattainable depths accessible, and following up 
the return movement no less eagerly yet always a gun-shot offshore. 
The Coots feed not only upon fish and crustaceans, but upon barnacles, 
mussels, and clams as well. These last they devour shells and all, up to a 
diameter of two inches or more, and their digestion appears to be in no wise 
impaired by this heroic diet. Their flesh, as a consequence, is delightfully 
immune from the attack of the White Man, altho the Indian has eaten ‘‘Siwash 
Duck” from time immemorial. A fat Coot will weigh up to six or seven 
pounds, thus exceeding the avoirdupois of the much larger-looking Black Brant. 
Scoters have considerable difficulty in rising from the water, and, like 
Loons, require a good deal of sea-room. ‘The feet assist the wings for some 
moments as the birds are getting launched, and the laboring movement of the 
wings gives rise to a murmuring sound which is not unpleasant to the ear. 
Indeed, a teeming bay, a-hum with the music of a thousand flying Scoters, is 
an orchestra in itself and needs no help of wind or wave to write its score upon 
the heart. It is of the sea, salty. 
At the time of the bird’s maximum fatness, the flight of the-Scoter is but 
little more than an effort to keep out of the water, and it is abandoned with 
evident relief. During migrations, however, the birds are capable of rapid 
flight, moving as they do in straggling companies numbering from a dozen to 
several hundred. Occasionally, the Scoters fall into line, goose-fashion, and 
one looks twice to see if it be not, indeed, a flock of passing Brant. If obliged 
to beat against the wind, as upon the Pacific Ocean, the flock flies low, rising 
over the crest of each billow, and disappearing in every hollow in order to get 
what shelter it may. 
On Semiahmoo Spit these birds are much hunted—not at all for the excel- 
lence of their flesh, but because the supply is unfailing and because of their 
interest as winged targets. The Scoters feed by hundreds during the day on 
Drayton Harbor, but feel impelled to leave its uncertainties toward nightfall 
