102 



THE OOLOGIST. 



done with such an air of deliberation 

 and sang froid that you cannot get 

 really angry. When he comes up it is 

 always just out of range and he goes 

 paddling away with a sort of 

 grim chuckle that tells more plainly 

 than words how much he enjoys the 

 triumph. 



It has been my pleasure to act the 

 spy upon these birds while home 

 building. It seems in other parts of 

 the country they insist on anchoring 

 their domicile out in the water three 

 or four feet from the shore. Occas- 

 sionally they do so here too, but most 

 generally the nest is placed upon some 

 little hummock or a deserted musk- 

 rat home out in the marsh, sometimes 

 many yards from the shore. One day 

 I was beating up the quarters of a 

 colony of red-wings that were habiting 

 a big marsh not far from here and 

 while sweeping the tules with my 

 glass I allowed the binocular to rest 

 for a moment upon one of these little 

 islands. My eye was attracted by a 

 movement upon the island. At first I 

 thought it to be a musk-rat foraging 

 but upon closer inspection I saw that 

 it was a pair of western Grebe house 

 building. For a better view, I crept 

 closer. 



The architecture seemed to be plan- 

 ned by the lady of the household and 

 the principal occupation of the master 

 was to gather the building material 

 which he did with a great deal of zeal 

 in the labor. With a continual chat- 

 tering he would waddle in a top-heavy 

 manner to the edge of the hummock 

 and sieze upon floating bits of tule 

 and drag them to the nesting site 

 where they were raked with bill and 

 toes into position by Mrs* Grebe. 

 Noise seemed to be necessary to the 

 proper' arrangement of the nest for 

 they both kept up a continual and not 

 at all unmusical chatter, grading at 

 times into a sort of grunt. 



Many days after, I visited this same 



spot and found the house keeping 

 fully established with three eggs to 

 their credit. Upon seeing me approach 

 the nesting bird hastily covered the 

 eggs over with moss and dried tules 

 and slid into the water, swimming 

 away with one eye looking over her 

 shoulder at the intruder of her home. 

 I carefully uncovered the eggs using a 

 long stick for the purpose and inspect- 

 ed the nest and contents. There was 

 very little attempt at nest building, 

 the tules being merely laid together 

 and a depression hollowed out by the 

 weight of the bird's own body. The 

 eggs differed none from the ones 

 usually found in the collections of 

 every oologist excepting that they were 

 much stained with the grasses upon 

 which they lay. I was being watched 

 with }ealous eyes by the parents at some 

 distance. I returned the covering and 

 silently retired. Watching the hum- 

 mock from a safe distance the birds 

 soon returned and investigated the 

 damage done. Satisfied with the re- 

 sult the hen snuggled down into the 

 nest again where I left her. Weeks 

 after I had occasion to return that way 

 and found a fluffy brood of nine ca- 

 reening around in the open water. A 

 shrill whistle sent every one of them 

 to the bottom as quick as a flash of 

 light. For a long time I waited for 

 them to reappear in vain. At last 

 tired with waiting I sought another 

 part of the pond some hundreds of 

 yards distant. To my surprise here 

 were my truants. For an experiment 

 I fired my shot gun at them, and at 

 the report of the gun the water was en- 

 tirely guiltless of bird life, so I said 

 the youngsters can get under the pro- 

 tection of the water as expeditiously as 

 their elders. 



This is about all I can think of 

 about the Western Grebe. Often when 

 tired of my professional duties and 

 out of harmony with things in gener- 

 al, I saunter down to the long bridge 



