274 Murphy, Anatidce of South Georgia. iJuly 



On December 29, Mr. Correia and I came across a pair of these 

 birds, whose photograph is here reproduced, while they were 

 feeding in a tiny glacial streamlet on the mainland south of the 

 Bay of Isles. They were well hidden by tall tussock {Poa flahel- 

 lata), and we did not see them until we had almost stumbled 

 over them. They seemed unconcerned, however, and continued 

 prodding about in the mud. When I stepped within six feet, they 

 raised their heads and waddled farther off among the hummocks, 

 from where they peered out through a screen of drooping grass. 

 All but their bright eyes and yellow bills blended completely with 

 the surroundings. Much against our sentiment, Mr. Correia shot 

 the female, as up to that time I had been able to collect only two 

 of this sex. The drake flew off whistling, with a teal's characteristic 

 speed. Two or three of the duck-hunting Norwegian whalemen 

 informed me that if, on the other hand, we had shot the drake, his 

 mate would have refused to leave the spot. If this be true, does 

 it indicate peculiar fidelity, or merely dependence and lack of 

 initiative? 



Certainly the female teals as well as the males show plenty of 

 courage and resourcefulness when it comes to the protection of 

 their young. The ever-present enemy at South Georgia is the skua 

 (Catharada), and when a teal and its brood of ducklings are sur- 

 prised the parent feigns lameness in a manner which needs no 

 description, while the downy young disappear like magic in the 

 tussock grass. I have hunted on hands and knees for half an hour, 

 but, like my predecessors, I failed to locate even one of the silent, 

 practically invisible youngsters. Oiu- ship's fox terrier, however, 

 was more successful. On February 6, 1913, after the dog had been 

 called back from a "wild goose chase," that is from following a 

 mother teal which had been duping him, he sniffed about the spot 

 where the family had been flushed, and at length caught one tiny 

 duckling. It had evidently been recently hatched, and was a 

 pretty, brown, long-tailed, confident little bird. It sat on my hand 

 in the ship's cabin and preened itself, stroking its back with its 

 bill, and scratching its head with its foot. It could also jump 

 lightly from considerable heights to the floor without being injured 

 in the least. 



During the last few days of February, we found the teals abun- 



