Music of the Wild 



the little ones are hatched their down is scarcely 

 dry before they take to the water. 



How cunning they are! Sitting like an auk, 

 where you would expect a tail to be, yet it is not; 

 tiny yellow feet, not webbed like a duck's, but the 

 webbing in escallops on the outside of each flat 

 toe; small, armlike wings; a bill that is sharp for 

 a water bird ; round, bright-irised eyes ; plump, full 

 breasts of finest snow-white velvet; backs striped 

 much like those of young quail, and the baby not 

 larger than your thumb. 



On land they are the most helpless birds imag- 

 inable. They can not fly until almost fullgrown, 

 and their legs are so far back they are unable to 

 lift the weight of their bodies. They rise on their 

 feet, launch themselves forward, with the tips of 

 their wings breaking the fall on their breasts, and 

 thus, like uncouth four-foocea things, go sprawl- 

 ing until they reach the water. 



One can see their comic relief and the deep 

 breath they draw as they reach their native ele- 

 Expert ment. What a transformation! The prince of 

 Swimmers sw i mmers j s the baby grebe. Like lightning play 

 the tiny escalloped feet. It fairly seems to glide 

 over the surface, not infrequently distancing its 

 elders. When tired or ready to sleep these com- 

 ical baby birds often climb upon the back of their 

 mother, making a picture delightful to see. 



The diving of the grown grebe is so nearly 

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