16 LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN DIVING BIRDS 



Mr. Alvin R. Cahn (1912), who had an excellent opportunity to 

 study this species at close range through an opening in the ice of 

 Cayuga Lake, describes its movements under water as follows: 



The water was clear, and the bird could be seen plainly, shooting and zig- 

 zagging about, midway between the surface and the bottom. While swimming 

 under water, the neck is extended to its utmost, and both legs and wings are 

 used. With neck outstretched, the bird offers the least possible resistance to 

 the water, there being a smooth and gradual transition from the tip of the 

 slender bill to the middle of the back, the widest part of the body. The speed 

 which is developed under water is marvelous, at times it being almost impos- 

 sible to follow its movements, which were so rapid that the bird appeared more 

 like a large, gray fish darting about. When coming to the surface the bill and 

 head appeared slowly, when a glimpse of the observer caused it to dive again 

 In diving, even though the body was under water, the bill went down first, so 

 that it really dove instead of sinking quietly. 



On its breeding grounds Holbcell's grebe is often seen swimming 

 about in pairs in marshy ponds or on the lakes. When undisturbed 

 it swims quite buoyantly with its head drawn down on its folded 

 neck, much as a duck swims, occasionally rolling over on its side to 

 wash and preen its plumage or pointing its bill up in the air to give its 

 loud weird call. But on the slightest scent of danger it sinks until 

 its tail is below the surface, its back is awash, and its head is stretched 

 up to watch and listen as it swims rapidly away. Should a human 

 being approach within a hundred yards of the shy creature, it is 

 gone for good; if on a large lake, it swims quickly away under water 

 and appears again only in the dim distance; if near a marsh, it seeks 

 shelter in the reeds and does not show itself again. Human intimacy 

 is not encouraged by this vanishing water sprite. 



One beautiful moonlight night in June, as we lay at anchor near 

 some Manitoba marshes, I had a good chance to study the love song 

 of this interesting bird. The night was calm and the mosquitoes 

 made sleep impossible, as we lay rolled in our blankets on the deck 

 of our little boat, listening to the varied voices of the marsh. The 

 activities of life in the marshes do not wholly cease at sundown; 

 birds are very active and noisy during the hours of twilight or all 

 night long when there is bright moonlight; even on dark nights 

 hardly an hour passes without some vocal signs of life. This night 

 seemed particularly favorable, quiet and cool after a long hot day. 

 The Franklin's gulls and black terns which were feeding over the 

 marshes in the cool of the evening kept up their restless beating long 

 after it seemed possible for them to see their insect prey. The chat- 

 tering of bronzed grackles and Brewer's and red-winged blackbirds, 

 as well as the rhythmic chants of the yellowheads quieted down at 

 dusk; but their notes were frequently heard all through the night 

 as the birds awoke to change their positions on their insecure roosts 

 in the reeds. The long rolling diminuendo call of the sora rails and 



