The Pintail 



381 



their deep-diving relatives, the Canvasbacks, but they nest in the grass at the 

 edge of these shallow sloughs. 



But what are those slender, elegant ducks, long of neck, agile of movement, 

 the male an exquisite gray and white, with a long spike of tail held up care- 

 fully out of the water? At last I have found the Pintail; and it is well worth 

 a journey of over two thousand miles to visit it in its summer home. It is a 

 duck of distinction, clad with grace and beauty, with sprightliness of disposition, 

 and a rakishness of form which together prove it of distinguished lineage. It 

 is the greyhound of the anatine world, rather than the mastiff or collie. One 



PINTAILS FLYING NEAR MARSH ISLAND REFUGE, LOUISIANA 

 Photographed by H. K. Job, New Year's Morning igi4 



might even venture to term it the "sportiest" of the ducks — active, alert, 

 possessed of real "style;" and, although moderate in weight, of sufficiently 

 good food-quality. Though fairly shy and watchful, it is not hard to surprise 

 it in the small reedy pools which it often frequents. The flock is likely to bunch 

 when alarmed, and travels with ranks compact. 



In one of these small alkaline ponds, on a small grassy island, where grew 

 also a few low bushes and clumps of weeds, I found a nest, probably of one 

 of those pairs I had watched through my glass. It was the fifth of June, a 

 cold, stormy day. I had waded to the island, sinking to the tops of long boots, 

 and had begun to beat about, hoping to start some duck from her nest. Sud- 

 denly there was a flutter and a spring, and a grayish duck with sharp tail- 

 feathers shot into the air, and hurtled off, on her own wings and on those 



