THE AMERICAN COOT 



(Fulica americana.} 



Some fine autumn morning, the observ 

 ant dweller in the neighborhood of al 

 most any one of the sequestered lakes 

 common in our North Central States, or 

 an inhabitant of the Chesapeake Bay re 

 gion, looks out over the water, sees a 

 black speck in the distance and says in 

 a voice of satisfaction, "The Coots have 

 come." 



Morning after morning the black 

 specks will be found to have increased in 

 numbers until the shallower portions of 

 the lake or bay are covered by black 

 squadrons and flotillas of these birds. A 

 flock of them busily engaged in diving 

 and feeding, gabbling incessantly in gar 

 rulous sociable tones makes one think 

 rather of domesticity than of wildness; 

 in habits of feeding indeed they remind 

 one somewhat of a flock of tame ducks. 



The Coot is a welcome sight to the peo 

 ple about the lakes, partly for their own 

 sa&s, because they lend an air of socia 

 bility and life to the scene and add vari 

 ety to the procession of passing days. 

 They are greeted with pleasure, too, be 

 cause their coming ushers in the autumn, 

 and one will soon see flocks of ducks and 

 geese, high in the air, and watch them 

 circle and alight. Not so much is known 

 about the migration of the Coot, as they 

 appear silently, and in the night, and es 

 cape general observation. 



The arrival of the Coot means also 

 that the hunter will soon be along with 

 his gun for a dinner of "Mud-hen" as 

 they are usually designated, or "Crow 

 Duck," as they are called along the 

 Chesapeake. During the first few weeks 

 of their stay, the birds find plenty of 

 dainty tid-bits of succulent vegetation, 

 and they are then very good eating. He 

 who feasts on them at this time is likely 

 to think of "Mud-hen" or "Crow Duck" 

 with the accent on the last syllable. Later 

 however, the food becomes scarcer, and 



the birds subsist more and more on the 

 rank Chara or other similar growths of 

 the lake bottom. The flavor then be 

 comes rank and muddy, as does that of 

 many ducks in similar circumstances, 

 and he who feeds on Mud-hen or Crow 

 Duck is pretty sure to think of their 

 names with a change of accent. The 

 Coot is not exactly noble game, as it 

 does not require an especial amount of 

 skill or dexterity in its capture, and the 

 hunter who has bagged a few, does not 

 go about displaying them as an evidence 

 of his skill. When out in open water 

 the birds have a good chance against a 

 man in a row-boat; but under most con 

 ditions, shooting at Coots is about as ex 

 citing as blazing away at a tin can or bit 

 of paper. . 



The Coot suffers indeed, from not be 

 ing a specialist in any line. It can dive 

 reasonably well either to feed, or if 

 wounded, to escape an enemy, but it is 

 not a professional in this art, as is the 

 loon or grebe, and it never seeks refuge 

 under water unless wounded and over 

 taken. Then it has to come up again 

 soon, within range, and it might as well 

 have saved the extra plunge. 



It can swim with moderate speed, and 

 a winged bird can sometimes escape in 

 this manner, but those peculiarly lobed 

 toes, which distinguish it from any of its 

 close relatives, are made rather for wad 

 ing in plashy places than for oars. So 

 it is not nearly so expert a swimmer as 

 are the ducks, and it can easily be rowed 

 down. 



The Coot can fly after a fashion, but 

 is not particularly a bird of the air. 

 Those short, rounded wings seem to have 

 been made for an aid in running rather 

 than for soaring, and indeed one of its 

 close relatives, even so close as to belong 

 to its own genus, probably became ex 

 tinct because it could not fly. Whether 



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