THE OLD SQUAW 359 
They seem to favor the sandy shores, leaving 
to their neighbors, the ‘‘coots,’’ almost undis- 
turbed possession of those rocky, weed- and 
kelp-grown grounds which they love the best. 
The writer knows one stretch of shore divided 
into two parts by a high and narrow promon- 
tory; on the one hand shifting sandbars at the 
mouth of a swift-running river and mile after. 
mile of shallows over a sandy bottom. Here 
are the Squaws, making a continual music most 
pleasant to the gunner’s ear. They are a very 
restless lot, dashing about from place to place, 
the swiftest of the seafowl. On the other side 
of the headland are waters deep and bold, crash- 
ing and tumbling in on a rugged, rocky shore, 
with the full sweep of the open ocean. Here 
dwell the ‘‘coots,’’ winging their heavy flight in 
sluggish contrast to the lightning rush of the 
“‘Squaw.’’ Scarce a ‘‘Long-tail’’ puts his nose 
around the point which marks the frontier be- 
tween the two communities, or if he does so, 
dashes back with the half-scared air of an in- 
truder. 
The Oldsquaw is mainly maritime, though oc- 
casional vagrants are seen on the Great Inland 
Seas. Their only visits to New England shores 
