go 



RECREATION. 



lowed head first; crayfish were always 

 shaken and dabbled in the water before be- 

 ing gulped down. The other grebe was 

 never seen to bring food to the surface. 

 Can it be that he was unsuccessful? Or 

 did he swallow his food while submerged? 

 I should like to know the opinion of ob- 

 servers who have studied these birds more 

 than I have. 



It has been said that a loon always 

 alights on the water with a great splash. 

 Not long ago I saw 2 loons settling toward 

 the surface of a Michigan lake. They sailed 

 some distance, then struck the water, one 

 after the other. The first came down on 

 its breast and slid along, making a sheet 

 of water spread into the air at each side. 



body was held in a more or less upright 

 position during only 2 operations. First, 

 it occasionally stood up and rapidly fanned 

 its wings as any swimming bird does, at 

 times. Second, sometimes it simultane- 

 ously ran and flew across the floor, carry- 

 ing the body almost upright, after which 

 it dropped suddenly to its breast. 



I have heard the great Northern diver 

 give 3 distinct cries. One consisted of 3 

 long notes, each succeeding one higher and 

 less loud, all done in clear soprano. An- 

 other cry reminded me of the squeaking of 

 a wheelbarrow. The third was the most 

 famous loon note, somewhat resembling a 

 laugh. To me, it suggested the screech 

 owl's wail, though much louder. Accord- 



^gjapa^A^" 



PIEDBILL GREBE. 



The other dropped quietly, tail first, as 

 gently as a mallard could have done. 



All the loons that my companions and I 

 observed last spring seemed to swim with 

 their tails drooping, submerged, as shown 

 in the accompanying sketch. Is this the 

 more common way? 



Who has seen a grebe or a loon stand 

 erect as they do in books? How did the 

 bird look when he did so? My experience 

 is. limited to one captive piedbill grebe. Its 



ing to our observations the loons seemed to 

 be much disturbed in unsettled weather, 

 and just before a storm they would fly over, 

 crying repeatedly. This habit is denied 

 them by some naturalists. The calls of 

 these birds seem less weird than the song 

 of Bartram's sandpiper, and less myster- 

 ious than that of the screech owl. How- 

 ever this may be. the cries of the great 

 Northern diver excite feelings in me that 

 no other bird notes do, 



