IOWA ORNITHOLOGIST. 



73 



no bones broken, except the 

 nose of one. 



Both being of the same age 

 and about the same weight, nei- 

 ther had any advantage over the 

 other, and it was a battle often 

 read about, but seldom has it 

 happened that both participants 

 could be procured to substantiate 

 the facts of such an event having 

 occurred. 



They were one mass of bruizes 

 — hardly a spot as large as a per- 

 son's hand but what was bruized 

 and several places badly gored 

 and it was plainly to be seen that 

 death was caused by internal 

 bleeding and exhaustion. That 

 the battle was fierce, is plainly 

 substantiated by the results. That 

 two perfectly healthy bucks should 

 kill each other in one night is 

 sufficient evidence to convince 

 the most skeptical. 



The Historical Department is 

 vt-ry lucky to secure so rich a 

 prize, and duly appreciates it. 



Urinator arcticus in Jackson Co. 



J. GIDDINGS, SABULA, IOWA. 



On November 15, 1895, a male 

 Black-throated Loon was shot 

 while swimming in the Mississippi 

 river, a little way from the shore 



opposite the town of Sabula by 

 Mr. W. Eldridge, who presented 

 me with a specimen. Being 

 doubtful of the identification of it, 

 I sent the specimen to Dr. C. 

 Hart Merriam, chief of division 

 of ornithology at Washington and 

 he identified it as above. 



I believe this to be a very rare 

 species in our state, especially 

 half way across it as thfs speci- 

 men was. 



[This is the first time this spe- 

 cies has been reported from Iowa. 

 —Ed.] 



A Reverie. 



BY J. R. BONWELL, NEBRASKA CITY, NEB. 



I'm a dreamin', just a dreamin', 

 Of the winter that is done; 



Of the old nests and the Owl's eggs, 

 And the other treasures won. 



I'm a thinkin', just a thinkin'. 

 Of the many moaths to come; 



Of the wet and soggy weather, 

 And the new nests just begun. 



I'm a watchm', just a watchin'. 



All the birds a flying past; 

 The flocks of Geese and Blackbirds, 



And the Ducks that go so fast. 



I'm a waitin', just a waitin'. 

 For the flowery month o' May, 



With its blossoms and its sweetness, 

 And the birds who've come to stay. 



I'm a countin', just a countin'. 

 On the happy times in spring. 



When the birds are all a nestin', 

 And the woods with music ring. 



— From 'The Nidologist. 



