92 NATUEAL HISTORY COLLECTIONS IN ALASKA. 



this must refer to .1 single uest, for the ordinary number is from three to six. The nest is usually 

 upon a small island in some secluded lakelet, or on a rounded bank close to the border of a pond. 

 The eggs are deposited in a depression made in a heap of rubbish gathered by the birds from the 

 immediate vicinity of the nest, and is composed of grass, moss, and dead leaves, forming a bulky 

 affair in many cases. 



On June 14, 1880, a swan was seen flying from the side of a small pond on the marsh near 

 Saint Michaels, and a close search finally revealed the nest. The eggs were completely hidden in 

 loose moss, which covered the ground about the spot, and in which the bird had made a depression 

 by plucking up the moss and arranging it for the purpose. The site was so artfully chosen and 

 prepared that I passed the spot in my search, and one of my native hunters coming close behind, 

 called me back, and thrusting his stick into the moss exposed the eggs. I may note here that 

 whenever the Eskimo of Norton Sound go egging on the marshes they invariably carry a stick 3 

 or 4 feet long, which they thrust into every suspicious tussock, bunch of grass, or spot in the 

 moss, and if a nest is there it is certain to be revealed" by the stick striking the eggs. They are very 

 expert in detecting places likely to be chosen by the ducks and geese. I have seen my hunters 

 examine the borders of a lake, after I had given it what I considered a thorough search, and unearth 

 in one instance three geese-nests and one duck's. This was after I had acquired considerable 

 skill in finding eggs, so it may readily be seen that the birds are very cunning in placing their 

 nests. There is some variation in the eggs of this swan, but the following measurements show 

 the average, the specimens measured being taken near Saint Michaels in June: 4.15 by 2.85, 4.05 

 by 2.74, 3.96 by 2.66. 



The last of June or first of July the young are hatched, and soon after the parents lead them 

 to the vicinity of some large lake or stream, and there the old birds moult their quill-feathers and 

 are unable to fly. They are pursued by the natives at this season, and many are speared from 

 canoes and kyaks. Although unable to fly, it is no easy task single-handed to capture them alive. 

 The young men among the Eskimo consider it a remarkable exhibition of fleetness and endur- 

 ance for one of their number to capture a bird by running it down. The feat is performed as 

 follows : The man removes his clothing except his trousers and a pair of small, light skin boots, 

 and then he starts after the bird, which may be plainly visible a hundred yards or more away, trying 

 to conceal itself in grass 2 or 3 inches high. The moment the swan sees its enemy approach 

 it rises and starts off at full speed, using its featherless wings as balances and to aid in pro- 

 gression. The bird takes to every shallow pond it sees, and by the aid of feet and wings makes 

 very rapid progress. The man must rush straight on in the track of his game, through water and 

 mud, and if he has good speed and wind he may hope to capture the bird in the course of fifteen 

 or twenty minutes. During the visit of the Corwin to Kotzebue Sound, in July, 1881, I saw 

 several swans with their quills moulted, but, as I had no ambition to gain fame as a runner, I 

 did not try to secure them. 



About 20 miles from Saint Michaels, toward the Yukon mouth, is a small, shallow lake, 

 about one-fourth of a mile in diameter, which is grown up with " horse-tails " [Equisetum). This 

 lakelet forms a general rendezvous for all the swans of that vicinity during the summer and 

 fall. During the breeding season they gather there to feed, and the males make it their home. 

 In autumn, as the old birds regain their wing-feathers and the young are able to fly, all congregate 

 here, so that I have rarely passed this place without seeing from one hundred to five hundred 

 swans gathered in this small area. Their combined cries can be heard for 3 miles or more, and 

 make a grand and melodious concert. 



I have frequently sat and listened with the keenest pleasure to the organ like swell and fall 

 in their notes, as they were wafted on in rich, full harmony, then sank to a faint murmur, not 

 unlike that of running water. A series of low hillocks afforded a cover by which the lake could 

 be approached, and it was a majestic sight to lie here on a mossy knoll and gaze on the unsus- 

 pecting groups of these graceful birds as they swam back and forth, within rifle-shot, not sus- 

 pecting our presence. Their snowy bodies and beautiful forms, as I last saw them in this far-away 

 spot, will linger long in my mind as one of the most unique and interesting sights of my experience 

 in the north. The report of a rifle is sufficient to change the scene into wild confusion. A chorus 

 of confused cries and the heavy beating of hundreds of mighty wings is heard. A cloud of white 



