ANATID/E. 75 



Goosanders defy the rigors of the season. In 

 midwinter, I liave been on the coast, when huge 

 masses of ice buried u\) the wliole shore -hne, 

 stretching seaward as far as the eye could see. 

 One opening remained, however, to leeward of a 

 reef. The blue waves rolled sullen 'neath the 

 weight of the wintry wind, and dashed angry, 

 frozen foam over the stranded floes. The air 

 was thick with frozen mist, obscuring the distant 

 visit)n, and making the dull winter sunlight more 

 hazy still. While gazing at the wild scene, where 

 frost and temjiest held terrific sway, I have been 

 startled to see the form of a Whistler shoot, 

 with sounding wings, through the misty tempest, 

 or observe the soft -voiced Pintail dip beneath 

 the angry wave, or the statel)' Ooosander sail 

 calmly on its surging bosom, while the Herring 

 (iull, with wild shriek, breasted the ten:ipest overhead. 

 The ^\'histler nests in our creeks, building under 

 brush on the ground, and in July leads its duck- 

 lings out on the bays. The beautiful little bird, 

 plumed with white, black, and glossy green, in 

 autumn days, sports innocently along the shores, 

 diving often and rajjidly, and resting quietl)' on 

 the glassy surface with little fear of the spectator 

 if it is not pursued. 



