192 THE CONDOR Vol. XXI 
And then came the best of all—the discovery of a family of three half or 
three quarters grown young whose mother kept them mostly close along the 
protected wooded border of the lake, where, from the high bank above, guard- 
ing my steps that no crackling twigs might alarm them, and screening myself 
behind tree trunks and low hanging branches, I was able to watch them for 
ten days, so enjoying one of the pleasantest experiences of the season and see- 
ing many a pretty family picture as they passed their time as they chose at 
home, unconscious of observers. 
The first time I saw them they were followed at a little distance by the 
light-cheeked, solitary Horned Grebe that I had often seen swimming .quietly 
by itself about the lake. Unobtrusively the Solitary One followed the Happy 
Family, as if it enjoyed watching their pretty ways. One of the brood kept 
close to his mother, talking continuously in weak infantile tones, sometimes 
hinting that he wanted food or a ride, but more often showing that he just 
wanted his mother—a real mother’s baby! Once their two heads were reflect- 
ed, making a sweet maternal picture. And again the mother raised her head to 
let the little one pass under her bill. He swam part of the time close to her 
neck, which gave her a sweet protecting air. When another of the brood swam 
up beside her, Little Talkative kept right on. In preening herself Mother Hol- 
bell had left a white feather sticking out on her side and the little fellow catch- 
ing sight of it swam close and tweaked at it so hard that she had to swim out of 
his reach. 
3efore starting to feed her brood, the old Grebe, to my amazement and 
chagrin, deliberately swam out at the lonely little Solitary One with such men- 
ace that it dived and disappeared from the neighborhood. How could she have 
done such a thing? I found myself looking at her with indignant protest. But 
—she had probably suffered from hungry onlookers before and was simply fol- 
lowing Nature’s command that the family must be preserved, at whatever 
cost. It is so easy to judge of one’s neighbor quite apart from her relation to 
the universe. 
Mother Holbeell, now having the world to herself, began diving fe weed. 
When she came up wet, she sometimes rose and showed big white patches at 
the back of her wings, onal dried her head by rubbing it on her back. When 
she brought a streamer of green weed she would shake it before passing it on 
to the young. On rare occasions, greatly to the astonishment of the waiting 
three, she would swallow it herself. This was undoubtedly because they did 
not seem very hungry. After eating a little they laid their heads down on their 
backs as the Western Grebes do, but in this case the oval front, instead of 
white, was a pale reddish brown. While their mother was feeding them, an- 
other adult whom I surmised was the father of the family, was seen on the out- 
skirts bathing and diving, after which he swam away with a long narrow wake. 
When I went on down to the cove I found another Holbeell family there— 
a parent with two nearly grown young. One of the young turned on his side to 
preen, showing the white Grebe breast, and then the brothers swam off by. 
themselves, diving independently. When they had gone far enough, however, 
a loud peremptory ker’r’r-kar’r-kar’r recalled them, and as their parent. wait- 
ed, with quick obedience they started to swim back. One stopped a moment ~ 
for a dive, but then, as if feeling guilty, hurried on with the green weed un- 
eaten in his bill. 
Returning along the crest of the wooded bank, at the highest point I 
could look off over lake and Coulee, and out across the prairie, with the glass — 
