Lake Umbagog.
Cambridge River Marshes.
1896
Aug. 13
  Forenoon cloudy & calm. Afternoon sunny with light N.W. to S.W.
breeze. Evening cloudy threatening a storm. Much cooler (Ther 64 [degrees] at 9 P.M.)
  According to the habit which I have established here I spent 
the forenoon writing and early in the afternoon sailed over to
Upton to look after the work on the sloop. It is progressing
slowly for Jim is not at all well and all the men have been
more or less affected by the extreme heat of the past three days.
  On my way across the Lake I saw four Whistlers, two old
birds, the other two young not more than half grown. Unlike
the Black & Wood Ducks which keep together in broods until
they leave for the south the young Whistlers apparently separate
long before they are large enough to fly and probably as soon
as they are able to get their own living. They utter a
low queer, queer almost exactly like that of the Black Duck
(I have always supposed that this note is peculiar to the young
drake of the latter species but I hear it as late as October after
the Black Ducks are fully grown) and having the same peculiar
shrill yet husky treble tone. The little fellows which I saw to-day
were expert divers and had already learned the act of doubling
back when hard pressed but they were so tame that I
could have shot them easily enough. The feed both by diving
& by skimming the surface of the water with half-opened bills. During
the day they work well in shore into the grassy coves and 
up the river but before sunset they paddle out into the Lake
a little way & spend the night 200 or 300 yards off the mouth
of the river. I have seen no old birds in this neighboorhood
after sunset and suspect that, in accordance with their
old-time custom, they pass the night at the head of the Lake
but if so I have no as yet seen them going or returning