Till] MALLARD, WILD AND IN CAPTIVITY IT.*) 



greater portion of its immense range in the long grass of 

 pond margins; in the woods, between the spur roots of trees; 

 and on the prairies, beside streams of the smallesl size. 



Once while collecting in Montana, late in May, I found a 

 tiny water hole, barely ten Feet in diameter, hiding in I In- 

 sunken head of a very dry coulee. For miles in every di- 

 rection stretched a billowy sea of >;i-«--l»nish, already shim- 

 mering in the heat of early summer. As I dismounted to 

 scramble over the edge of the hank for a drink, up rose a 

 Mallard Duck from her nest in a thick patch of sage-brush, 

 within a yard of my feet. 



The nest was the old, familiar type ;i basin of grass lined 

 with a thick layer of down from the breast of the prospective 

 mother, and a hunch of eggs that almost overflowed the boun- 

 daries of their resting-place. As I gazed in astonishment at 

 this nest and its contents beside an insignificant hit of water 

 in a landscape that certainly was not made for ducks, I un- 

 derstood how it is that this bird has been able to spread itself 

 all around the northern two-thirds of the globe. 



In captivity tin* Mallard is the besl of all ducks, and the 

 most persistent and prolific breeder. Put a flock on any pond 

 having long ura-^ or timber about it. keep away the rats, 

 raccoons, mink, thieves and other vermin, and each female 

 will do her utmost t<> surround herself with a downy tloek of 

 about fifteen small Mallards, regularly every summer. In 

 the Zoological Park several oests have been built within 

 twentv-five feet of walks that are in dailv use bv crowds of 

 visitors, the immunity of their builders being due in cadi case 

 to their wonderful color resemblance to the dead oak-leaves 



