Sept., 1918 A RETURN TO THE DAKOTA LAKE REGION 173 



though I had failed to see them, there were some in the other lake, the two 

 flocks apparently calling to each other. 



After these two mornings with the grebes, I went to Stum}) Lake, but 

 while there the thought of the rare opportunity 1 was losing worried me until 

 J actually dreamed of the beautiful grebes. Nevertheless, so much had been 

 told me of the great flocks of migrating shore birds to be seen on Devil's Lake 

 that I felt I must go there before returning to the Sweetwaters. An ideal 

 place was found from which to watch them — a stone farmhouse on the bluff 

 above Creel Bay, in the deep, quiet northwestern part of the lake. At the foot 

 of the bluff was a broad beach where myriads of shorebirds had congregated in 

 previous years, but one of the unusual seasons that so often balk the plans of 

 the traveler was experienced here — hardly so much as a sandpiper was seen 

 during my stay. 



But here again, my compensations were rich. On the lake in plain sight 

 from the house I found a flock of the white-throated grebes, and during my 

 visit they increased in numbers from twenty to fifty-two ! For a week I 

 watched them — not from a tule marsh in water up to my knees — but with my 

 glass from an easy chair on a broad piazza whose wide, woodbine draped arches 

 framed the picture of white clouds and blue lake — spirit lake, as its old Indian 

 name — Mnewahkon — is interpreted; a wide lake of blue and white waters, of 

 shifting, subtle beauty under varying wind, sky, and cloud, affording appropri- 

 ate setting for its white gulls and silvery-throated Swan Grebes. Where had 

 the beautiful grebes gathered from? As their numbers swelled, I liked to think 

 that perhaps some of my own Sweetwater colony had come to me here. 



The grebes did most of their diving in a belt of weed about a third of the 

 way out across the lake, at night generally coming closer in shore ; in the morn- 

 ing, as signs of life appeared at the farmhouse, working gradually out again. 

 One night they were heard calling at one o'clock. While I did not keep defi- 

 nite records of their feeding hours, they must have had a very early breakfast, 

 for one day between six and seven I found them already resting, and another 

 day, at about half past nine they were diving as for a second meal. Still an 

 other day I noted that after nine or ten o'clock there was not much going on, 

 thirty or forty of the birds resting within a radius of a few rods. 



In one gathering of forty-five, all apparently grebes, nearly all presented 

 the appearance of gray ovals with white fronts, their long necks laid on their 

 backs. In certain lights the gray ovals looked black, making black spots on 

 the water. As the necks came up, it was interesting to see the dark ovals trans- 

 formed by the white erect line. When part of a flock was active, an animated 

 picture was presented, alert looking profiles — long sharp bills at right angles 

 to the long neck — pointing some to the right and some to the left, while scat- 

 tered among those sitting on the water were active divers coming up or going 

 below. "What's that white bird?" was asked, as a turn hid all the black, 

 leaving a beautiful snowy figure ; but at another kaleidoscopic turn, perhaps 

 a black bird would have taken its place; while at a certain angle a subtler ef- 

 fect was given, the white grebe almost fading into the gray water. Very long 

 the divers looked when stretched prone on the surface, stretching out a foot 

 and shaking it behind like a flag waved at the end of a boat, 



How expertly Aechmophorus dived ! Putting its long sharp bill down gently 

 before it, it would part the water and vanish. Sometimes — most astonishing 

 sight — when sitting on the water one would begin to sink below. When nearly 



