110 THE CONDOR 
not time the diving then, but later, when she seemed to be feeding much more 
slowly, she dived and fed five times in a minute. She often dived with a splash 
that sent the ripples circling out, so that when she came up she fed the little 
one inside the rings. Generally the mother swam over or handed the food to 
the little one, but sometimes he reached out to take it for himself. While this 
Coot, on the opposite side of the Coulee from me, procured food mainly by div- 
ing, a parent in the thick water plants on my side of the Coulee fed exclusively, 
so far as I observed, from the surface plants; and as I found both parents and 
young in the same places doing the same things at different visits, I inferred 
that each adult had its favorite method and feeding ground. Out in the clear 
water of the middle of the Coulee, one day, I found two old Coots a few feet 
apart, diving and feeding hairy young, one a single one, the other, two. 
The value of the conspicuously colored heads of these nestling chicks was 
demonstrated when a family was being fed in the dark shade of the eat-tails; 
for I, at least, could never have differentiated them from their shadows. When 
the nestling plumage is lost, the young are better able to fend for themselves, 
besides which they talk so much that it would be hard indeed for their parents 
to lose track of them. A half grown, gray-headed youngster, crossing the Cou- 
lee, one day, seemed to keep its bill set open, giving vent to incessant weak 
cries. Its parent, following a short distance behind acted as if the iteration got 
on its nerves, swimming at the loquacious one with such an exasperated threat- 
ing manner that it dived to get out of the way. In this Coulee nursery, the 
Coots were so generally seen doing something strenuous, forging ahead with 
curved neck outstretched expectantly, or rapidly diving and feeding young, ~ 
that it was a pleasure to see one standing at. rest, round and gray in a green 
eat-tail doorway, looking motherly and comfortable. 
The voices of young Coots and Pied-billed Grebes were those most-com- 
monly heard along the Coulee. One of the striped necked Pied-bills that I hap- 
pened on was revolving around its parent’s bill, teasing in infantile tones; but 
the hard-hearted parent continued to plume her feathers as if unconscious of 
its presence. Two other young Pied-bills made a pretty picture sitting side by 
side on the water between the foot of a cluster of cat-tails and its reflection. 
After a little they followed their parent into the green labyrinth, coming 
out into a cat-tail cove where they sat apparently enjoying the sun, as well 
they might, for although it was August 11 by the calendar, my fingers became 
eold writing down notes. A Pied-bill to which I came too close fidgeted so 
nervously that a self-possessed Ruddy Duck, sitting on the water behind it 
watched it scornfully—if one dare judge by attitudes—and finally made a rush | 
at it for its foolishness, at which it disappeared below. 
Ruddies dominated one section of the narrow part of the Coulee. Quite a 
little fleet went swimming by one day—eight downy young with dark crowns 
and dark lines through the eye, five adult drakes, and three ducks. Much to 
my surprise some of the blue-billed drakes were going through the curious an- 
tics that had marked the June season of courtship, and although this was Aug- 
ust, the rattle of their castanets was often heard. Once I saw two drakes facing 
each other, going through their ludicrous performances. Another time when a 
peaceable looking neighbor Ruddy was sitting quietly on the water doing noth- 
ing to provoke him, a belligerent drake went through the whole role—did chin 
exercise, his haughtily arched head and forward pointing spike tail almost 
meeting, ruffled up the feathers of his back, pressed down his tail and made an 4 
excited rush through the water at the onlooker. 
{ 
? 
