The Pied-billed Grebe 



etc.); Ray, Condor, vol. xviii., 1916, p. 222 (San Francisco County, breeding); Bent, 

 U. S. Nat. Mus., Bull. no. 107, 1919, p. 39, pis. (life hist.);G. Bancroft, Condor, vol. 

 xxii., 1920, p. 206 (San Joaquin Valley; nesting habits); Forbush, Massachusetts Dept. 

 Agric, Bull. no. 8, 1922, p. 6 (under-water progression). 



TAKE a double handful of 'dobe soil, moisten it with brown swamp 

 water, add a fistful of macerated weed-stems, by way of binder, mould 

 into a shape somewhere between a clod and a crow, drench it with eels' 

 liver oil, and set it carefully on the surface of some weedy pond. It will 

 disappear instanter, and the swamp will be peopled forever after by a 

 race of amphibious Pinkertons. You will never again set foot in those 

 oozy shallows, intent upon nothing more harmful than your annual 

 inspection of blackbirds' nests, without an uneasy consciousness of 

 surveillance. You are being shadowed from clump to clump among the 

 innocently waving cat-tails. "The Hessians are coming." Some mis- 

 creant is spreading a false alarm, and be your advance never so stealthy 

 to the very market-place of Reedburg, you find only empty streets, or 

 catch at best a glimpse of disappearing skirts. 



If you spot the spy, up on reconnaissance, he sits the water motionless 

 and furtive, the very image of arrogant humility, Uriah Heep in feathers. 

 The Dab deprecates your glance with an irritating unctuousness which 

 somehow makes you resolve to deserve forthwith all the nameless charges 

 of which you stand accused. Guilty! And proud of it, Caliban! Bing! 



The trouble began when we were boys. We had been entrusted with 

 our first gun, a re-bored army carbine, and we were intent on slaughter. 

 We saw a duck on a pond and we tremulously pulled trigger. The land- 

 scape was suddenly blotted out, and, when we returned to consciousness 

 there was no duck in sight, nor shattered remains, nor feathers. What did 

 it mean! We knew we had not missed. Nothing could have withstood 

 that blinding assault and at such close range. So we returned, bruised 

 in spirit, and the neighbor boys told us with great glee that we had shot 

 at (mark the preposition) a "hell-diver." We are not profane, but we 

 draw a fierce satisfaction from the appellation, and we cherish our wrath 

 against a creature which is so inconsiderate as to avoid the flash of a gun 

 at twenty yards. 



More recently we have been trying to study the Grebe's nesting 

 habits, and have made overtures, sometimes friendly, sometimes frantic; 

 but still the wily water-witch cultivates retiracy and will not be limed or 

 limned, save as a paludicoline pest whose specialty is alibis. 



One thing is certain, the nest of the Pied-billed Grebe may be found. 

 In a retired spot in a depth of water varying from six inches to as many 

 feet, a large mound of sodden vegetable matter and mud is erected, and 



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