160 THE CONDOR Vol. Sexes 
its secluded by-ways. In this intimate protected harbor, I was pleased to find 
a mother Pied-bill at home with her downy brood of striped necked chicks, diy- 
ing and feeding them in assured security. After a time, probably on discoy- 
ering me, she raised her head and, to my great satisfaction, gave the Cuckoo 
eall-—cluckukukuk—the identity of which had been perplexing me all summer. 
it was evidently an alarm note or rallying ery, for in answer to it her brood 
followed her into the tule waterways, peeping like little chickens. Letting 
them swim on ahead of her she dived on the near side of a tule screen, coming 
up on the other side to rejoin them. One of the brood which came out and swam 
around making a pretty little wake across its bay, had a Robin-like chirp, and 
as it took note of me gave a droll bob of the lead, which proved a family man- 
nerism. 
As I watched the interesting family, a muskrat swam by, nose and ears out 
of water, leaving a long wake behind him. When he had nearly reached the 
tule wall, he disappeared, and bubbles rose above him. As this was about 
where the Herons had so mysteriously lit on the water, he had doubtless gone 
down into a muskrat house. He was seen again the next day, and as he swam 
past a family of half grown Grebes, they all looked at him, when one inquisi- 
tive little Pied-bill swam after him, close to his wake; and as the furry ears 
disappeared, he too went below, as if to investigate his strange neighbor’s 
house. : 
The mother of this brood was not feeding them when I saw her, and when 
one seemed to hint that she should, she preened very pointedly—a way feath- 
ered mothers often enforce discipline. They were big enough to provide their 
own dinners, she must have thought. A parent Pied-bill in diving for food one 
day apparently met her Waterloo. Shaking her catch violently, she dived rap- 
idly and excitedly, reappearing and diving, and again reappearing and diving. 
At this juncture two nearly grown young with dull orange bills swam in, one 
acting as if intending to tell his mother just what to do on the instant; but 
that apparently was not so easy, for when I last saw the trio they were swim- 
ining away through the marsh, nothing settled. Perhaps the old Pied-bill had 
tried to make way with a squirming mud puppy! 
Wherever these small Grebes were seen, Coots were almost always in evi- : 
dence, and from the road overlooking the eastern border of the lake, they were 
usually the commonest spots on the surface. From the wide tule border the 
querulous or appealing notes of young were generally to be heard, and often 
the crooning note of the old one, one of the pleasantest, most contented sounds 
that came from the lakes. 
The Coots’ Gateway, as I came to call an opening through the willows 
near the hunting lodge end of the road, led down to the tules, and a strip of 
ground covered with old stalks provided a convenient and popular platform on 
which the birds could stand to sun and plume themselves. When stopping to 
iook in at the gateway, one day, I caught sight of a young Redhead and got 
just a glimpse of the mother, in a light that brought out the rare plum colored 
bloom only oceasionally seen in life. | 
Here, early one August morning, I found four half grown Coots standing 
at the base of the green tule stalks. When they disappeared, my attention was — 
absorbed by distressed infantile cries coming from within the tules. They de- — 
creased after a time and before long a red and black headed nestling Coot ap- 
peared through the reeds and climbed up weakly onto the platform, where he 
