Among the Water Fowl 



beautiful, they are interesting in being illusive. All 

 over the prairies they straggle, in small groups or 

 in large flocks. The settlers call them "Prairie 

 Pigeons," and I know of no more unique and 

 beautiful sight than to see a small army of them 

 follow the farmer as he ploughs, dropping into the 

 newly turned furrow behind him like snow-flakes, 

 to pick up the worms and grubs that are exposed 

 to view. In places, especially near their breeding 

 grounds, I have seen the prairie fairly white with 

 them. 



But their breeding grounds? — that is the ques- 

 tion. It is their habit, according to accounts, 

 to congregate in immense numbers in some large 

 shallow lake and build floating nests amid the 

 grass and reeds that grow out of the water. There 

 are certainly not many of these colonies within 

 our borders. There may not be more than one 

 or two in all Dakota, in spite of the fact that so 

 many birds are wandering about. Many a time I 

 have watched them as they came drifting over the 

 prairie, ever on the move, and have longed to 

 know whither they were journeying. I could not 

 locate their breeding ground from the direction of 

 their flight, so I wrote to different parts of the state, 

 and questioned every Indian or hunter that I met, 

 but it was of no use. 



At length, through hearsay and rumor, I traced 

 out the fact that a year or two before great num- 

 bers of these Gulls had nested in a large, deep 

 slough, north of Devil's Lake. The Sioux Indians, 

 it was said, were accustomed to go there and cart 

 away eggs by the bushel. I reached the spot after 



T r" 



