816 THE SURF SCOTER. 
The head of the male Surf Scoter presents one of the most bizarre 
appearances in nature. It has only the Tufted Puffin for a rival, and I 
think that the odds are even here. Try to conjure before your mind’s eye 
the colorings of the Scoter’s bill alone: black, white, pink, yellow, cadmium, 
orange, and carmine, and those displayed not only in transitions but in the 
most abrupt contrasts. Add a swelling which involves not only the base of 
the bill but the whole anterior portion of the head; then a white eye; then 
two patches of dazzling white on black ground for the rest, and you have this 
Beau Brummel of the seas. 
But the ladies like him; they have to, for they are such homely bodies 
themselves that the perversity of attraction must be mutual. I have seen 
a Surf Scoter courtship in mid April. Five males are devoting themselves 
to one female. They chase each other about viciously, but no harm seems 
to come of their threats; and they crowd around the female as tho to 
force a decision. She in turn chases them off with lowered head and 
outstretched neck and great show of displeasure. Now and then one flees 
in pretended fright and with great commotion, only to settle down at a 
dozen yards and come sidling back. If she will deign a moment's atten- 
tion, the flattered gallant dips his head and scoots lightly under the surface 
of the water, showering himself repeatedly with his fluttering wings. One 
suitor swims about dizzily, half submerged, while another rises from the 
water repeatedly, apparently to show the fair one how iittle assistance he 
requires from his feet in starting, a challenge some of his corpulent rivals 
dare not accept, I ween. I have watched them thus for half an hour, off and 
on, and the villains still pursue her. 
Surf Scoters move about freely in companies of their own kind, or 
associate to some extent with the allied species. Of the almost incredible 
numbers found in Alaska we know little, and there is no reason to suppose 
that any nest with us. 
“On August 23, 1878, I visited Stewart Island, about ten miles to the 
seaward of Saint Michaels. As I neared the island in my kyak I found 
the water literally black with the males of this species, which were united 
in an enormous flock, forming a continuous band around the outer end of 
the island for a distance of about ten miles in length, and from one-half 
to three-fourths of a mile in width. As the boat approached them those 
nearest began to rise heavily by aid of wings and feet from the glassy 
surface of the gently undulating but calm water. The first to rise com- 
municated the alarm to those beyond, until as far as could be seen the water 
was covered with flapping wings and the air was filled with a roar like that of 
a cataract. The rapid vibrations produced in the air by tens of thousands of 
wings could be plainly felt” (Nelson). 
