310 
The Loon 
attracting attention to its speeding form far above tree-tops and hills. 
In flying over the ocean, it seems to feel that its true safety is in the 
water, for a sudden shout or startling sound will often cause it to drop 
near the surface. This habit is taken advantage of by gunners, as the 
bird flies overhead. 
The Loon leaves its secluded lake within the realm of the frost- 
giants, sometime after the breeding-season, and speeds away to spend the 
icy months on the ocean, where, amid ceaseless currents and toppling 
waves, it finds an abundance of food, and, with hosts of other sea-fowl, 
rides out the winter’s fury. 
With the return of spring, and the warming of its stout heart toward 
its mate, it again seeks the lake and resumes its 
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family cares. Year after year it returns for a nesting- 
^ place to the same tiny islet, floating tussock (or it 
may be to a muskrat-house), to some sandy beach in a sheltered cove, or 
perhaps to a point of land where turf and water meet. Sometimes 
the nest is fully open to view, sometimes well hidden by bushes, or 
perhaps a mere hollow without lining; but it may be slightly or, occa- 
sionally, well lined. Rarely an elaborate nest is built in the shallow water, 
raised above the level of the early summer floods, and such a nest is left 
high and dry when the water of the lake recedes in the summer drought. 
The eggs usually number two, but sometimes only one is laid. They 
are about as long as goose-eggs, but smaller in diameter, and are rich 
olive-brown, more or less marked with spots and lines of a deeper color. 
They hatch in about a month. 
The baby Loons are clothed in soft down, black above, white below. 
In a few hours they bid farewell to the nest, and are conducted out upon 
the broad lake by their parents. Here their youth is spent in alternately 
swimming feebly, and in riding upon their parents’ backs. Audubon 
says that the young are 'Ted by regurgitation for about a fortnight and 
then are fed with particles of fish, aquatic insects, and small reptiles, 
until they are able to maintain themselves.” The deep love of the Loon 
for its nest and young is manifested in acts of solicitude when these are 
approached, and in marks of aflfection in fondling and guiding their 
weak oflfspring. 
The Loon manifests uneasiness before a storm. Perhaps it dislikes 
the splashing spray, or maybe its savage spirit is 
Sensitive to stirred to depths of exultation by the turmoil of wind 
Storms wave, for, with the rising gale, the bird becomes 
especially noisy, sending its powerful voice echoing across the water with < 
great frequency. The performance seems contagious, for every Loon 
within reach of that penetrating tone raises its voice to answer, and then i 
it may seem to a man listening that the confusion of tongues is again | 
at hand. 
The storm abated, and the sun again shining upon the water, the j 
Loon finds life easy, and after washing its beautiful plumage with scrupu- | 
