October, 1919] 



The Canadian Field-Naturalist 

 BIRD STUDY FROM A DUCK-BLIND. 



79 



By J. A. MuNRO, Okanagan Landing, B.C. 



A day's tramp in the hills usually has for an 

 objective, a lake or slough, or a mountain-top to 

 reach before turning homeward and after a few 

 hours' travel, this becomes the dominant idea. One 

 cannot sit down to watch a bird for any length 

 of time, as the lake or slough of one's destination 

 urges haste. One obeys the impulse and passes 

 on, losing, it may be, a chance of learning some 

 secret of avian psychology. 



But when hidden behind a screen of brush or 

 rushes on some pleasant lake shore, the mental at- 

 titude is that of expectancy and curiosity only. To 

 become an inconspicuous part of the blind, that 

 screens us from the sharp eyes of passing water- 

 fowl, is now the object. One's predatory in- 

 stincts counsel immobility and silence, so there is 

 no impulse to move and one has the maximum of 

 opportunity for observation. While following the 

 flight of a bird until it is lost to view or watching 

 with close attention, the numerous waterfowl that 

 swim past the blind or feed within the range of 

 binoculars, the gun is frequently forgotten. The 

 band of scaups that swim past the blind, leaning 

 against the breezes at an angle that reveals their 

 white underparts and then fly straight out over the 

 lake, until, a row of vanishing dots, they melt into 

 the horizon, have appealed to other than the sports- 

 man's eye. The impulse is to watch rather than 

 shoot; the carefully built blind and the decoys 

 swinging at their anchors to leeward have served the 

 bird lover rather than the sportsman. 



October in the Okanagan is a month of golden 

 cloudless days and starlit nights. To-day, the 7th 

 (1918) the lake is unruffled by the slightest breeze 

 and on the glassy "surface, there is a perfect un- 

 blurred replica of the surrounding hills. There is 

 no frost, but the early morning air is keen and 

 one's fingers grow numb grasping the canoe-paddle. 

 This intimation of the cold days to come is for- 

 gotten when the first shafts of sunlight cut through 

 the belt of firs on the mountain-lop. As the sun 

 rises higher, bathing the western hills in a flood 

 of golden light, that creeps lower and lower until 

 every tree stands out in relief, and as the mist-- 

 wraiths over the water are drawn up and dissi- 

 pated, one can see little evidence of autumn, save 

 the bold splashes of yellow along the shore-line 

 where the cottonwoods are turning. 



The blind is built on the edge of a narrow sandy 

 beach, close to the mouth of a small creek that 

 pursues its indolent course through a wide valley 

 of farm land and brush to the north. One hun- 



dred yards from the water, where the beach merges 

 into the meadow, there is a thicket of deciduous 

 trees, poplar, birch, alder and willow. From this 

 shelter come the voices of a few late migrants; the 

 faintly heard "chirp" from the last of the Audu- 

 bon's Warblers and the stronger, more metallic calls 

 from a band of Gamble Sparrows. 



The lake is dotted with grebes, Western, Holboell, 

 Horned and Pied-bills. The Horned Grebes are 

 quite fearless; seven swim in among the decoys and 

 alternately dive for food or preen their already im- 

 maculate plumage. Alarmed by a gun-shot, they 

 fly, splashing along the surface for thirty or forty 

 yards, when they alight again and huddle in a 

 compact flock, as if for protection. In a few min- 

 utes they paddle back to rest among the decoys. 

 Their plumage seems to be in need of constant at- 

 tention ; when not feeding, they are usually oiling 

 and combing their feathers, sometimes lying on the 

 side, one foot above the surface and bill buried in 

 the glistening breast. 



The other small species, the Pied-bill, which is 

 much less common here, does not visit the decoys. 

 They are more easily alarmed than the Horned 

 Grebe, and at a sudden movement sink below the 

 surface until only head and neck are visible, then 

 with a rapid look to either side disappear, leaving 

 scarcely a ripple. 



The two larger species are much more wary 

 and keep some distance out from the shore. The 

 Western Grebe with its long slender neck and 

 hair-like plumage, suggest reptilian ancestry more 

 than do the other species. Paddling towards one 

 is an interesting experience. Before being alarmed 

 they float high on the water, conspicuously black 

 and white; as the canoe draws near, they turn and 

 swim straight away, showing only the black upper 

 parts which blend with the dark water. The head 

 is carried stiffly erect on the long straight neck and 

 there are frequent quick glances backward. A 

 few yards nearer and they dive with a quick clean 

 flip. Many of these birds are suffering from a 

 wasting disease, probably due to the presence of 

 intestinal parasites in large numbers. The actions 

 of the sick birds identify them at once. They 

 swim slowly close to the shore as a rule and dive 

 only when actively pursued, to arise exhausted with- 

 in a few yards. 



In the presence of their handsomer cousins the 

 less conspicuous Holboell receive only a cursory 

 inspection. Those that pass the blind to-day arc 

 all juveniles, with dark greyish back, spotted breast 



