478 THE SURF DUCK. 



mer. The river was in its most placid mood, its waters of 

 half a continent moving on with a quiet force, that did not 

 stir the smallest ripple on its surface. The sky was veiled 

 in a soft hazy curtain of gray, and the air was motionless. 

 The river, like a great mirror, doubling the gorgeous land- 

 scape, reflected immense flocks of Ducks, flying high, now 

 in long lines and varying angles, and now in graceful curves. 

 Only occasionally did a flock drop down within shot-range; 

 then, as they rushed by our boat in the sedges, their many 

 wings sounding like a storm-sough in the trees, they almost 

 invariably proved to be Red-heads. 



THE SURF DUCK. 



But the Ducks were not all in the air. Here and there 

 on the glassy surface small flocks would appear as if by 

 apparition. Among these were many of the Ruddy Ducks, 

 whose passage would seem to be about as much by water 

 as through the air. This coming up out of the depths at 

 any point adds a great mystery to the coy life of certain 

 species. Every sense is on the alert, for you do not know at 

 what moment some strange thing may "turn up." So it 

 was on this morning of the 18th. There appeared sud- 

 denly, almost under the bow of my boat, three dark-colored 

 Ducks, of a form wholly new; the most striking feature 

 being the large head, and long bill thick at the base. They 

 were young birds, and so tame, that it seemed as if I might 

 row my boat up to them and take them in my hand. They 

 proved to be the Surf Duck (GELdemia perspicillata), which are 

 not uncommon on these waters in the autumn; occasionally, 

 indeed, being found here even in spring. It also occurs 

 quite commonly as a transient autumn migrant on the 

 beautiful lakes of Central New York. It is, however, par- 

 ticularly an ocean Duck, feeding on small mollusks and 



