Jan., 1918 A RETURN TO THE DAKOTA LAKE REGION 29 



As we walked along the pass where the Louis Hill hunting lodge was, we 

 came to the Big Ditch that had been cut through when one of the lakes was too 

 low, and which now holds a stream some twenty feet across. The southern 

 lake presented a beautiful evening picture with its quiet white water reflect- 

 ing the sunset sky framed by its wide green border of tule and cane. A con- 

 fusion of startled ducks rose before us from their safe cover, and Black- 

 crowned Night Herons reluctantly relinquished their nightly hunting grounds. 



From the north side of the pass a long rocky point projected out into the 

 water, on which ducks and gulls were fond of assembling. It could be seen from 

 the house, and one morning late in August I was called to the kitchen window 

 to see a flock of White Pelicans that had taken possession of the rocks. Hur- 

 rying down to Stony Point I looked across the lake at them. Between fifty and 

 sixty were there, standing lined up, too close to count, at my distance. Some 

 stood tall with necks raised, others sat low, making an irregular line of white 

 pickets. About forty rose first, soon followed by the rest, when they flew heav- 

 ily south, their bills slightly tilted up, the black tips of their wings making a 

 handsome pattern. The leader of one of the flocks kept command through all 

 the shifting movements. As they flew south I followed eagerly, expecting to 

 have a good chance to study them from the pass ; but by the time I got there 

 they were already out of sight. 



Later in the morning when I was crossing the open wheat fields I discov- 

 ered a dim line high in the sky, that through the glass proved to be some thirty 

 of the great birds moving slowly toward the south lake of the chain. Once 

 they strung out in orderly single file so that it was easy to count them. Then, 

 as if they could not agree on the next move, the point of advance became con- 

 fused, and before a decision could be reached they were mulling about within 

 a circle like a swarm of insects. When they went on the slowness of their state- 

 ly flight was accentuated by the swift flight of a flock of ducks crossing the 

 sky below them. 



The next morning when I got to Stony Point only eight Pelicans were on 

 the rocks across the lake. Two stood on higher rocks than the others and 

 looked as if their wings were wide open at their sides. As I watched, seven of 

 them rose, a flock of white Gulls and a flock of dark Ducks flying at the same 

 time, perhaps disturbed by the movements of these Giant Fowles ! As they 

 went they again shifted to the single file that makes such an effective figure 

 across the sky. The one Pelican left behind must have been slightly winged for 

 while he seemed to try his wings, he did not rise, but swam about, back and 

 forth over the water as if expressing his restlessness at being left behind by his 

 comrades. He would swim rapidly over quite a circuit, then apparently stop 

 to fish, then climb up on a rock, and after a few moments drop back into the 

 water and start on his restless round again. Poor creature — too handsome, too 

 striking a mark across the water ! But who could be wanton enough to make a 

 target of such a bird ? 



The next morning my wounded Pelican was still on the point of rocks 

 when I went down, but hardly had I seated myself inconspicuously back to a 

 tree prepared for an interesting hour with him when — there he was on wide, 

 black-tipped wings up in the sky ! I gazed at him in astonishment. Two days 

 rest had put him on his wings again ! Possibly he did not go far, but hunt as I 

 might, I could never find him again, and could only hope that he was able to 

 rejoin his white brothers in their majestic flights through the sky. 



