BY THE SEA. I ig 



flying, now all at the same time showing their 

 under-parts, as white as the sea foam, or turning 

 their backs, as gray as the rocks, toward you as 

 they fly aslant over the swelling waters. But for 

 some reason this well-drilled flock is easily scat- 

 tered and soon broken into squads and pairs. As 

 I walk further along I see a lone bird standing 

 motionless on a bare rock off the shore, appar- 

 ently watching the incoming waves. Will he 

 answer to the roll-call to-night at the bivouac 

 among the rifts of the ledges, or fly inland to 

 roost by the margin of some pond or stream to 

 give ear again to the plaintive piping of the frogs, 

 which he has learned to imitate so well .■' 



From the shores of Labrador and the Hudson's 

 Bay Country, various sea ducks, after the breed- 

 ing season has ended, appear on the Eastern New 

 England coast as early as the last week in August, 

 to ply their fishing trades. "Dippers," "Old 

 Squaws," "Black Scoters," white-winged and 

 skunk-head " Coots " are seen singly, in pairs 

 and in large flocks, paddling their boat-like bodies 

 over the waves, or coasting along the weedy rocks, 

 when the tide is out, in search of limpets, wrin- 

 kles, small crabs and other dainty flesh-pots, with 

 which such places abound. 



There is something peculiarly interesting in 

 the sight of these ocean wanderers, they are so 

 self-reliant, so wild and free, so hardy and sue- 



