The Whistling Swan 



come: The appearance of a Swan in the wild state is now a nine days' 

 wonder, something to cause a ripple of excitement through the country- 

 side, and something to be reported forthwith to "The Auk" or "The 

 Condor." 



We are, we Anglo-Saxons, and especially we Anglo-hispano-italo- 

 nippono Californians, an easy-going, law-despising and indolently selfish 

 bunch. We have had game laws for a generation, and those now written 

 on the statute book are as beautiful as ink can make them. We have even 

 succeeded in shutting up several stable doors after the horses have been 

 stolen; but our machinery for law enforcement is a jest. As in the days of 

 Samson, everybody does that which is right in his own eyes, and above all 

 — oh, above everything — we do not interfere with anything which our 

 neighbor may see fit to do. Is he slaughtering birds in plain violation of 

 the statutes? He is justly incensed if you remind him of the fact; and as 

 for causing his arrest, who would venture to do anything so impolite! 



Take, for example, the case of the Wild Swan. The law says explicitly 

 that the bird shall not under any circumstances be killed. And yet we read 

 in a recent work, "The Game Birds of California," as follows: ' 'Swans 

 were common winter visitors on Humboldt Bay up to three years ago when 

 a flock of about forty birds lingered here until all but about six or eight 

 were shot by market hunters. I saw eighteen of these birds in the hands 

 of a local taxidermist, all of which were shot within a period of less than 

 two weeks. He had bought them cheaply, expecting to mount them, and 

 sell them at a fancy price, but they were poorly mounted and most of them 

 went to ruin right in his shop' (C. I. Clay, in letter of March 16, 1912). 

 It is to be observed that all of these birds were killed illegally." 



There you have it! These noble birds were slaughtered under cir- 

 cumstances glaringly apparent to a community of ten thousand people 

 and yet nothing was done about it. Indeed, if we mistake not, the man who 

 bought up this treasure trove still carries a license to collect "for scientific 

 purposes." But Eureka is no worse in this respect than forty other com- 

 munities. As director of a museum the writer has been repeatedly solicited 

 to purchase contraband material, a wounded eagle or the like, and he is 

 rated "queer" because of the irresistible outbursts of indignation which 

 ensue. Pardon this weakness, dear Californians. It's — it's congenital! 



During migrations the Swans move in small flocks, forming a "flying 

 wedge," or V-shaped figure, with some trusted patriarch in the lead. Their 

 flight is exceedingly swift, being estimated by competent observers at one 

 hundred miles per hour — probably twice that of the geese. For all they 

 are so powerful on the wing, they rise from the water rather reluctantly, 

 and prefer, if there is room enough, to distance pursuit by swimming. 

 Because the neck of the Swan is so long and hung at the water-line, the 



1884 



