THE OOLOGIST 



95 



The Wood Duck. 



On several occasions while staying 

 at my favorite camping grounds, a 

 large mill pond near Wilmington, Del., 

 I have had an opportunity to observe 

 the Wood Ducks, said to be the most 

 beautiful of American waterfowl and 

 fast relegating to the rare list in many 

 sections. There are always a few 

 pairs in this locality and they evident- 

 ly breed here. I have made a search 

 on several occasions for their nesting 

 sites but without success. I have seen 

 several broods of little ones, however, 

 during the latter part of July. 



One day a friend and I were out on 

 a little camping and canoe trip and on 

 rounding a sudden bend in the creek 

 above the pond, we came upon a 

 mother duck and about seven little 

 ones. A sudden note from the mother 

 caused a prompt disappearance of the 

 ducklings into the depths below. The 

 courageous mother, however, instead 

 of beating a hasty retreat, as one 

 would most naturally expect, came 

 flying toward the canoe and flopped 

 down just in front of us, beating the 

 water with her wings and trying by 

 every means to make us believe that 

 a crippled duck was just within our 

 grasp. Seeing no signs of the little 

 ones, we started to follow the mother 

 as if intending to catch her. She skill- 

 fully decoyed us up the creek until 

 around another bend when we were, 

 in her estimation, a safe distance from 

 her little brood. She then suddenly 

 and miraculously recovered and quick- 

 ly disappeared among the heavy 

 growth of hard wood timber which 

 clothes the banks of the creek. We 

 promptly returned to the scene of the 

 first encounter. The little ones had 

 evidently recovered from their fright 

 as we saw three of them swimming 

 around. On seeing us, two of them 

 dove, while the other made slowly for 

 the bank, half submerged like a grebe. 



As soon as it landed we made a dash 

 for the spot and the little fellow led 

 us a merry chase through fallen tim- 

 ber, across ditches and through thicket 

 and tangle. We finally corralled him, 

 however, and made him pose as a 

 photograph, much against his will. 

 After taking a good look at the young- 

 ster, we set him down near the creek 

 bank, and by the way he took to the 

 water, we could imagine him congratu- 

 lating himself on his fortunate escape 

 from his terrible captors. 



On another occasion, we came upon 

 a mother duck with about fourteen 

 little ones, the largest brood I have 

 ever seen. During late August I have 

 seen several half-grown wood ducks, 

 not yet able to fly. If surprised in 

 deep water they imemdiately dive. 

 When caught in a shallow spot, they 

 half fly and half swim along the sur- 

 face to deep water and safety. 



In the fall, large numbers come in 

 to feed on the acorns that abound 

 there About the first of November 

 they seem to be getting ready for their 

 trip South. In the early morning 

 and soon after sunset, they gather in 

 some little cove in the upper reaches 

 of the pond and keep up a terrible 

 chattering for an hour or so. By the 

 middle of November, the last ones 

 have gone to a warmer clime. 



A. B. Eastman. 

 Wilmington, Del. 



■ ♦ ■ 



Not Afraid. 



While out walking Monday the 19th, 

 I came across a "Brown-Headed Nut- 

 hatch" nest, it was in a natural cav- 

 ity in a fence post, and the post was 

 situated one hundred feet from a rail- 

 road, where there is as many as fif- 

 teen or twenty trains pass daily and 

 was twenty-five feet from the engine 

 room of a large brick plant, which lat- 

 ter kept up continuous noise all day 

 long, especially the exhaust from the 



