HABITS OF THE GREAT NORTHERN DIVER. Ity 



back. The other, in emerging, has perceived us, and somehow 

 communicates the discovery to her mate. They swim about for a 

 short while with erected necks, then sink into the water, their heads 

 disappearing last ; and when we see them again, they are 300 yards 

 distant, standing out to sea, with half-submerged bodies." " If shot 

 at and not wounded," continues this most picturesque of writers on 

 natural history, " it never flies off, but dips into the water and rises 

 at a great distance, and unless shot dead, there is little chance of 

 procuring it, for its tenacity of life is great, and its speed far exceeds 

 that of a four-oared boat." 



The great American naturalist, Audubon, has left a most in- 

 teresting account of this bird in his " Ornithological Biography." 

 After describing the various Transatlantic localities in which he 

 has studied its economy, he describes its nest. " One that I saw," 

 he says, "after the young had left it, on Lake Cayuga, was almost 

 afloat, and rudely attached to the rushes, more than forty yards 

 from the land, though its base was laid on the bottom, the water 

 being only eight or nine inches deep. Others I examined in 

 Labrador were placed on dry land, several yards from the water, 

 and raised to the height of nearly a foot above the decayed moss 

 on which they rested. The nest, however placed, is bulky, and 

 formed of withered grasses and herbaceous plants found in the 

 neighbourhood. The true nest, which is from a foot to fifteen 

 inches in diameter, is raised to the height of seven or eight inches. 

 Of the many nests I have examined, more contained three than two 

 eggs, and I am confident that the former number most frequently 

 occurs." 



Of this handsome bird Sir John Richardson remarks, contrary 

 to the generally-received notion, that it is seldom seen either in 

 the Arctic Sea or Hudson's Bay, but that it abounds in all the 

 inland lakes. It is rarely found on land, being ill fitted for walking, 

 but admirably adapted to aquatic habits, swimming with great swift- 

 ness and for considerable distances under water ; and when it does 

 come up, seldom exposing more than its neck. It flies heavily, but 

 rather swiftly, and in a circle round those who have disturbed it in 

 its haunts, its loud and melancholy cry resembling the howling of 

 the wolf, or the distant scream of a man in distress. When the Loon 

 calls frequently, it is supposed to portend a storm. In the bad 

 weather preceding the advent of winter on the smaller northern 

 American lakes, previous to migration, their wild weird note is so 

 unnatural, that both the Indians and settlers ascribe to it super- 

 natural powers. 



