The Bill of Fare 



W' ♦ HOW IS THE FOOD PROBLEM MET IN 



the marsh? Is the question of supply one of chance or are 

 there certain fundamentals governing it? I asked myself the 

 question one morning in late May. 



It was a week or two after I had made my grand tour of 

 exploration and examination of sport fishing in the bay. The 

 day was warm and decidedly not a time for action. The pen- 

 cil and notebook lay in my lap but I made no entries, the 

 binoculars hung from my neck and had been untouched 

 since I entered the canoe. I paddled lazily with considerable 

 intervals between strokes. I saw a redwing in the top of a 

 nearby tree but none of those usually active birds flew past 

 me. In the cattails one bird, a yellow-throat, the marsh war- 

 bler with yellow body and black mask, uttered a few notes, 

 then was silent. There was no other singing. Half the usual 

 number of swallows were in the sky. The urge to relax 

 seemed almost unanimous all over the marsh. I think I could 

 have dozed if something in the water had not attracted my 

 notice. It was a peculiar dark spot, probably a little more 

 than a yard in diameter, proceeding slowly, its margins 

 changing shape slightly as it moved. Occasionally it came up 



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