( 33 ) 



DIVING DUCKS: SOME NOTES ON THEIR 

 HABITS AND COURTSHIP. 



CHARLES E. ALFORD, f.z.s. 



Owing to their great alertness, and the ease ^Yith which they 

 can escape from view, the Anatidae do not as a general rule 

 readily lend themselves to observation. Indeed, to study 

 them closely and with any degree of accuracy needs not only 

 a great deal of patience — with which quality, be it said, most 

 nature-lovers are well endowed — but a large amount of luck 

 into the bargain. In the case of most species of duck, we 

 have, indeed, only to appear at the water's edge to send them 

 scurrying off on whirring pinions : and even should we succeed 

 in drifting into their midst, we shall, in all probabihty, return 

 but little the wiser for our trouble. For the futility — not to 

 mention the discomfort — of trying to study the habits of 

 ducks from the cramped interior of a boat can hardly be 

 overstated. There are occasions, of course, when this is the 

 only method that offers ; but when possible I have always 

 found it best to get on to high ground overlooking the bay 

 which the ducks frequent, and there conceal myself beneath 

 a tree or bush. Though the objects of our study are thus 

 at a greater distance, a strong pair of glasses soon overcomes^ 

 this difficulty. From such a point of vantage not only do 

 we command a wider field of vision and obtain a much clearer 

 view of their plumage than is the case when we are on the 

 same level with them, but, should there be sufficient cover, 

 we can shift our position or even move from one point to 

 another, and thus avoid the bodily tortures incurred by 

 lying motionless in a boat. 



As stated in a previous article, I had the good luck during^ 

 the years I spent in Western Canada to live on the very edge 

 of a bay frequented during the winter months by many 

 interesting species of the Anatidae ; and from the shelter of 

 my study window I could, by the aid of a strong pair of 

 glasses, keep the movements of my feathered visitors under 

 close and constant observation. That is not to say that I 

 made any fresh or startling discoveries, but I was able to 

 watch them in an absolutely wild and unmolested state, 

 swimming and feeding, playing and courting in perfect 

 security, and all unconscious of the two powerful lenses that 

 were so eagerly and constantly focussed upon them. 



Generally speaking, it has been my experience that diving^ 



