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F112 THE CONDOR Vol. XXI— 
never seen near by and had been watching for all summer, so I looked keenly 
at its flat, narrow, fisherman’s bill, its knob-like suggestion of a erest, its up- 
turned tail, and the light line along its side. Would that I could have seen an 
adult male with his spectacular black and white wheel crest! This one, as 
quiet as it was inconspicuous, failed to do anything notable, and soon passed 
out of sight. Was it merely a wanderer? 
Another day, as I looked down, some Pied-bills and a close group of Shov- 
ellers were feeding below me. One of the Pied-bills, after diving came up right 
in the midst of the group of Shovellers, startling one so that it gave a quick 
jump back. The water weeds were so close below the surface here that the 
Ducks fed without tipping up, merely putting their heads under water. 
Some stones on the shore were favorite resting places of the Canvasbacks 
and other large Ducks, which, sitting on them, looked very round and comfort- 
able. One of the Canvasbacks on the water near by, all unconscious of observ- 
ers, preened itself, scratched its ear with a webbed foot, and tossed up a swal- 
low of water. The old females rode with matronly dignity, head held high, 
and bill often tilted up a little as if watching the bank above. A warning gut- 
tural note from a motherly old one who had come swimming up with a grown 
son, called my attention to the fact that I was being closely observed, and as 
I looked, the responsible parent flew, low over the water, away up around the 
bend beyond recognition. Her independent son, however, did not think it ne- 
cessary to follow, and later, apparently went back to his brothers down the 
Coulee. 
Twice I saw below me what must have been an Eared Grebe, either a young 
one or an adult in fall plumage. It sat solitary as they so often do, turning its 
head to look at me, its pointed crest and white throat reflected beneath it. 
When a young Coot came along, the exquisitely modelled throat of the Grebe 
made the poor heavily-built Coot suddenly fall in the scale of beauty. A black 
tug boat beside a white-rigged sail boat naturally suffers. But the tug boat 
nevertheless has its assured place in the world! | 
Standing on the crest of the bank with my back to the water, one day, I 
was conscious of some large bird flying away with a low grunting noise, and 
turning discovered a brown Bittern crossing the stream, evidently having risen 
from the tules on the edge of the water below me, for it let itself down into the 
marshy border of the opposite bank. Silent, mysterions birds, how the knowl: 
edge of their presence enriched the banks of the Coulee! 
But this little river was not merely the resort of those living along its 
banks. Swallows were often seen flying over it and it was frequently visited 
by passing water fowl. Flocks of Ducks, Black Tern, and Snipe often whirled 
by, the Snipe with their perfect team work giving a charming flash of white. — 
Late one afternoon a flock of thirty or forty Black Tern trooped in, black- 
headed adults and parti-colored young. Along the wire fence leading down into 
the lake arose a confusion of fluttering wings and tongues, the voluble young 
trying to get seated, talking in hoarse over-strained voices, as if they had been 
at it since early dawn—as they doubtless had. The flock was in constant mo-— 
tion. Sometimes a large band would sweep down and pass beyond on long gray - 
wings, the young, retreating white spindles; then all would come trooping back, 
talking sociably as they came, skimming over the water like Swallows. The 
most skillful would dip down daintily in passing, while others—both old and 
young—would halt and light on the water a moment to pick up what, it would 
