THE MARBLED MURRELET. g2i 
mer boy, the trusted flag-rope, beats furious tattoo. Crash! Poof! Poof! 
We win! 
But there are those who enjoy the conflict of the storm even more than 
we. Above the whining of the waters and the crashing of the prow,come shrill 
exultant cries, Meer-meer-  meer-meer. The Murrelets are in their element, 
and they shriek to each other across the dancing waters like Tritons at play 
Perhaps association will partly account for it, but somehow the note of the 
Marbled Murrelet seems of itself to suggest piping gales and rugged cliffs 
beset by pounding surf. It is the articulate cry of the sea in a royal mood. 
And not a thousand Murrelet voices are required to transport the hearer to 
Alaska forthwith. 
Save in summer, the Murrelets appear chiefly in pairs and it is interesting 
to note the harmony of action in the case of mated birds. They sit upon the 
water, usually abreast, from one to four feet apart, and in flight they main- 
tain the same relation. In rising from the water they do not patter, after 
the fashion of the Grebe, but burst out by a sudden effort. They do not, 
however, always succeed in getting quickly under way, for they sometimes 
bump along over the surface like a skipping stone, and are even quite baffled 
if they are called upon to clear an unusually high wave. Once a-wing, how- 
ever, they vibrate the pinions with extreme rapidity and appear to move like 
winged bullets. 
Because so agile they are often quite venturesome, and the pursuit of fish 
is sometimes carried on before a wharf-load of beholders.. About the docks 
of the Bremerton Navy-yard these birds are especially fearless. They look 
like little men-of-war themselves as they le at anchor on the surface of the 
water; but when they get news from below by wireless, they are off like a 
flash, down, down into the cool green depths. They do not swim under water, 
but fly rather. At first one may see the wing-strokes, incisive, rapid; then 
only the quickly disappearing white of the bird’s nether parts is visible; and 
lastly, a slowly rising line of bubbles which mark the first dozen feet or so of 
the diver’s course. When surprised at close quarters by a steamship, the bird 
oftener escapes by diving than by flight, and so confident is he of his powers 
in this regard that he tarries to quench the last possible moment of curiosity 
before going below. 
The nesting of the Marbled Murrelet hereabouts is an engaging mystery. 
While not nearly so numerous in summer as at other seasons, the little divers 
may be found thruout the length and breadth of Puget Sound at that season, 
and they occur in numbers along the Pacific Coast. Word comes from the 
Aleutians that they nest in holes and crevices along with Ancient Murrelets 
(Synthliboramphus antiquus), and there is no reason to disbelieve the report 
from that section, but we have found nothing of the kind here. The Quileute 
Indians say that they do not nest like the other sea-fowl upon the rocky islets, 
