572 THE WHISTLING SWAN. 
Nesting.—Does not breed in Ohio. Nest, on the ground or upon loose heap 
of sticks and trash, lined with mosses, grass, and down. Eggs, 2-5, sordid white. 
ING VAS, AAS AZO) (MOV >< (eH(6)))x 
General Range.—The whole of North America, breeding far north. Com- 
mander Islands, Kamschatka; accidental in Scotland. 
Range in Ohio.— Not common spring and fall migrant; perhaps also winter 
resident” (Wheaton). Rare latterly. 
NO fitter emblem of purity and grace will ever be found than this match- 
less daughter of the wilderness, the American Swan. If we are impelled 
to admire the stately beauty of the domestic bird, as it moves about some 
narrow duck-pond of our own contriving, how much more shall we yield 
tribute of admiration to this native princess, spotless and untamed. It is 
to be feared that our fathers set a higher value upon the gastronomic qualities 
of the Swan than upon its marvellous purity of plumage or majesty of mo- 
tion. At any rate early accounts abound with estimates of avoirdupois, and 
directions for “hanging out” the bird’s carcass for a given length of time, 
in order to fit it for the table; but they had less to say of the flashing splendors 
of the white-winged fleet, as they passed overhead in their semiannual re- 
gattas. 
During migrations the Swans move in small flocks, forming a “flying 
wedge,” or V-shaped figure, with some trusted patriarch in the lead. Their 
flight is exceedingly swift, being estimated by competent observers at one 
hundred miles per hour—probably twice that of the Geese. For all they are so 
powerful on the wing, they rise from the water rather reluctantly, and prefer, 
if there is room enough, to distance pursuit by swimming. Because the 
neck of the Swan is so long and hung at the water-line, the bird can explore 
the bottom freely in shallow waters in its search for roots and molluscs, 
without making any ungainly motions with the body. Indeed, there is a 
peculiar disconnectedness between the operations of the Swan proper and 
its far-reaching head,—as tho here were a white boat serenely floating at 
anchor, from the bow of which now and then a diver is sent down to grapple 
for hidden treasure. All the bird’s motions above water are graceful enough, 
except in case of anxious inquiry, when the neck is stretched to its utmost, 
perpendicularly, as it pauses in dread expectancy, and the bird looks like a 
white eighth-note of ithe musical scale, set upon a staff of widening ripples. 
The Whistling Swan is a noisy bird at best. A flock of them exhibit 
great individual variations of notes, and they can create a chorus which is 
mildly worse than that of a political jollification meeting. The bass horns, 
of tin rather than brass, are blown by the old fellows, while the varied notes 
which seem to come from clarionets, are really due to cygnets. ‘The birds set 
up a great outcry when they have done anything, or are about to do anything, 
important; as when preparing for the flight northward, or when welcom- 
ing a company of their fellows to the feeding grounds. 
