THE AMERICAN EIDER 379 
ing flight, but silent all, and looking like a flock 
of animated tenpins,—the heavy, lumbering 
flight of ‘‘coots,’’ or ‘‘surf ducks,’’ winging 
their way to some less troubled stretch of water. 
To-day this is a favorite feeding ground, but 
to-morrow there may not be a Sea Duck here, 
for they often change their range without ap- 
parent cause, leaving a place where for weeks 
they have been plenty and moving a few miles 
away to return as suddenly as they went. 
Sometimes this is the work of the wind which 
may carry them miles away as they rest upon 
the sea at night, but as often as not it is the 
bird’s own caprice. 
Right overhead, coming up behind you and 
unnoting your presence where you were hidden 
by the rocks, comes a big loon with out-stretched 
neck and flying bravely with rapid wingbeats. 
A shot only serves to hasten his flight, and 
without a sound he keeps on, swinging in a 
wide circuit to alight a mile away, perhaps 
sorely hurt. The sun is up, the birds come in 
thick and fast for an hour or so, then the flight 
suddenly ceases. If you have held well and 
truly, loaded the proper charges and placed 
them where you ought, by this time, being a 
