The Horned Grebe 



than a maze of piles supporting a wharf. They crowd into the shadowy 

 aisles and survey the retreating vistas with the dumb wonder of children 

 at Karnak. A few nibble at the hieroglyphics traced by barnacles on 

 the pillars, or tweak in mischief at the wan whiskers of the serried anem- 

 ones. Suddenly a silver shudder thrills the school. A flash of white 

 sides is followed by a dash for the depths, and there emerges from the 

 tumult a gray apparition which resolves itself into a panting bird. An 

 instant gleam as of fins near the bird's beak tells you that another fish 

 has gone to Grebe; but just how you cannot tell, for it was all so sudden. 

 The diver pauses a moment to consider the danger of the kindly eyes 

 that stare down at him, recalls that art is long and fish are fleeting, and 

 is off again hot-foot to urge the merry chase under water. 



They are innocent, happy little souls, these Hornies, and one is 

 tempted to look upon them as children, especially if he is used to the 

 grown-up Westerns. Once I stole upon a little company at early morn, 

 as they rested after a long migration flight. Six of the dainty creatures 

 were dancing before me on the gently ruffled surface of the water-works 

 pond. They saw the bird-watcher plainly enough some thirty feet away, 

 but accepted him as a part of bountiful nature and gave themselves to 

 slumber. In sleeping they draw the head back and settle it between the 

 shoulders, thrusting the bill down, precisely, to the right. Now and 

 then one lifts its head and describes a wary circle of reconnaissance, 

 but is soon reassured and resumes its slumbers. While taking these 

 cat-naps in my presence, they swim and whirl automatically and main- 

 tain their general position, as though gifted with double consciousness. 

 There are five males in the company, with one female, and the white of 

 their breasts and throats glistens purely in the morning sun, for it is 

 autumn; and I steal away with a sense of privilege, as though I had seen 

 fairies caught out of bounds. 



In the springtime one may inspect the wedding garments from no 

 more romantic a position than the wharf again, before the northern 

 bridal tour is undertaken. At such a time one rubs his eyes to see the 

 transformation wrought upon our modest gray friends of autumn. Taw- 

 ny, chestnut, chocolate, wine-red and shiny black are now in evidence, 

 and the extraordinary ruff, or aureole, which surrounds the head, detracts 

 materially from the solemnity of the occasion. 



Birds of this species take to wing readily with or without provoca- 

 tion, and although they have the grebe habit of thrusting the legs out 

 straight behind, they are not ungraceful flyers. The wing movement is 

 quite rapid and the white wing-patches appear prominently in flight. 



Owing to the exceeding difficulty of distinguishing in winter between 

 "Horned" Grebes and "Eared" Grebes, it is impossible to pronounce 



2050 



