28 THE CONDOR Vol. XX 



toward the canes, and when the horses came too close simply swam out of the 

 way a little among the green stalks. Another day when I was there, the Shov- 

 eller drake came flying around the Point with his soft chuck-uk, chuck-uk, and 

 lit in the bay with his orange feet out behind him. When I was on the beach, 

 a duck would sometimes swing around over the lake and woods, as if making 

 me the center of its circle, and again one would fly down the shore to be joined 

 there by its mate, suggesting that the nest might perhaps be in the bushes not 

 far away. 



From Stony Point one July morning between storms, so quiet that the 

 trees at the foot of the lake and the tules along the marshy border were reflect- 

 ed in the water and the grasses outside the shore punctured gently waving 

 lines, a Black-crowned Night Heron was seen on a post in the water, a statue on 

 a pedestal ; while nearby on a floating piece of wood stood a Bittern, a wooden 

 image mirrored below. As I watched, the Bittern suddenly lunged forward, 

 and then from outspread wings rose, holding tight to his wriggling prey. "While 

 he stood there round-shoulderedly with his minnow, if it were one, in his bill, 

 ducks swam near, reflected in the smooth water and leaving short rippling 

 wakes behind them, each looking up with curiosity at the fisherman's catch. 

 Finally, with the dark limp object dangling from his bill, the Bittern flew over 

 to the canes and went down inside, doubtless to his nest. 



Looking out over the surface of the still white water banded here and 

 there with streaks of blue, ducks taking advantage of the quietness of the lake 

 after storms could be seen so far out that they were only pairs of dots on the 

 surface. Near the Point the wooded shore strip was ringing with the voices of 

 birds celebrating the change from heavy wind and rain to quietness and sun- 

 shine. The Clay-colored Sparrow sang its best kray-kray, while Song Sparrow, 

 Catbird, House Wren, and Maryland Yellow-throat made merry, each with his 

 own tuneful ditty. The horse bell tinkled contentedly, and the cows, having 

 had their morning meal, came to rest in the shade of the trees; up the lake 

 shore our neighbor's horses stood in the water, while beyond sheep and cattle 

 from the pastures gathered, each in its own band down the beach. 



That evening the farmer who was starting with his sulky to make a round 

 of the neighboring pastures looking for a strayed calf, offered to take me down 

 to the pass where T could see the second lake. Trotting over pasture hummocks 

 fast enough to make one 's teeth rattle, wading through boggy ground till horse 

 and wheels sank deep and the driver had to urge insistently, "Keep a'goin' — 

 keep a'goin'," driving straight into brush patches, crowding obstructing wil- 

 lows under the wheels, and turning at sharp angles out of positions where re- 

 treat became necessary, we finally reached the pass where large trees filled the 

 narrow strip of ground between lakes making even a sulky and a western horse 

 impossible. 



Along the shore we passed two pretty black and white 'wood pussies,' evi- 

 dently out on a hunt with their mother: and while they disappeared in the 

 marshy border of the lake, she valiantly drew our fire by running slowly ahead 

 of us, the broad white stripe on her back insuring our attention. Her parleys 

 with our dog made me wish for a camera, but the most theatrical pose of all 

 was when she faced the dog at close quarters, her slender head low, her wide, 

 white-striped brush raised straight at her back. A hint of a wood pussies suc- 

 cessful hunt was had out on the prairies — fragments of egg shell and some 

 black down on the ground near some shallow, nosed holes — within easy reach 

 of a black and white family that lived apparently under our barn. 



