The IVater-fowl of the Pacific Coast 505 



spring from the willows and cottonwoods that 

 overhung the water, with a thousand red wings, 

 golden wings, and golden throats, gleaming on 

 the blackbirds that thronged the fringe of reeds, 

 while the thrush poured forth his soul from the 

 crimson and green of the heteromeles on the 

 drier ground, with the mocking-bird joining in 

 from the verdant head of the massive live-oak. 



However abundant ducks might be there was 

 rarely any flight by day such as once was common 

 on the prairie, nothing equal to the old-time 

 morning flight about the lakes and sloughs of the 

 prairie and the adjacent river-bottoms, and nothing 

 approaching that tumultuous whirl of whizzing 

 life, now among the things that were, the evening 

 flight. In some places a few ducks would fly 

 about for a short time in the morning or evening, 

 or both, and in other places all would move to 

 some other pond or to the salt water. At night 

 many flew out to feed on the grass or grain-fields, 

 but a sun-bath from morning till night was the 

 rule with the majority. Nor was there very much 

 difference in many places even when the sky 

 ceased its long smile and the storm-wind, bringing 

 the needful rain, was strong enough to make a 

 duck rejoice in the spreading of wing. In many 

 places the movement was still not enough to 

 make what in the prairie states would once have 

 been called "a good flight," and too often the 



