Nov., 1922 “NOTES ON THE YELLOW-BILLED LOON 205 
large immatures were sighted a mile farther on, but I did not collect either. 
June 11 two immature loons were noted off Point Couverton, completing my 
records of the species for the spring months. 
My first fall records were made in Seymour Canal, Admiralty Island. 
This broad inlet extends for more than fifty miles on the inside of Glass Pen- 
insula, and is one of the favorite schooling grounds of herring. Consequently 
it is an especially favorable place for loons. During the heavy rains of Sep- 
tember 30 and October 1, at least eight yellow-bills were noted, two adults the 
thirtieth, and six adult and immature birds the first. Again, on October 7, 
off Young’s Bay in Stephens Passage, seven adult birds were seen in one flock. 
They were so gorged with fish they could not (or did not) rise from the water, 
but went pattering over the surface, as murres sometimes do, until they were 
out of sight—all but one big male which I collected. This fellow was literally 
erammed with rock cod. (I have found that loons in flocks usually prefer to 
escape by flying, while single birds usually dive.) . An immature was seen 
within a few miles; and on October 10 I took an adult off Point Couverton, 
while eleven others were positively identified the same day, between the Point 
and Glacier Bay, in Icey Straits, as well as two others within the confines of 
the Bay. Another immature was collected October 24 in Chatham Straits, 
and another noted; and an adult was taken at Killisnoo October 26, and an- 
other seen. 
The yellow-bills, according to my experience during the year 1920, can not 
be considered as rare. They are extremely wary and give boats a wide berth. 
So one is apt to overlook them unless .watching carefully. On October 10, 
while going up Icy Straits, the birds started for the shadows of the shore or 
the center of the channel to avoid us, when we were still five hundred yards 
away. With average light, it is almost impossible to identify yellow-bills, 
without the aid of binoculars, much more than gun-shot away; and for that 
reason I believe they have been overlooked by collectors. When a specimen 
is in the hand, the large size and colored bill seem so apparent that one could 
not fail to notice them; but in the water, especially in bad light, their size 
shrinks remarkably, and they do not look different from Common Loons. The 
last two specimens I collected, I was not positive of having yellow bills until 
I had the birds on the boat, in spite of the fact I had ‘‘worked’’ on the adult 
for an hour. 
In flight, however, they can be told by their size. If the light is at one’s 
back, these great, heavy-bodied birds stand out with startling clearness.—the 
long, arrow-like neck is thrust outward and the wings drive forward at tre- 
mendous speed. Outlined against the fleecy clouds, with snow-topped moun- 
tain ranges serrating the horizon, and ice-bergs of wonderful blueness in the 
channel ahead, these wanderers from the Arctic regions complete Nature’s 
composition of an otherwise unfinished work of art. 
Colorado Museum of Natural History, Denver, Colorado, April 19, 1922. 
