226 
THE CONDOR 
Vol. XVII 
could not prove it, for when we left we made a wide detour to avoid driving her 
from her emerging ducklings. 
The next day during the first drops of a thunderstorm we hurried down 
for a look at the nest. This time the mother, instead of bursting out of the 
patch and flying off, flew low through the bushes, apparently dragging her 
wings. She might well use her best methods to decoy away intruders, for all but 
two of her eggs had now hatched. As we leaned eagerly over the nest a hat- 
full of downy yellow ducklings huddled back under the bushes. We had barely 
time to notice their brown eye streaks, ducklike bills, and streaked backs, when 
the storm burst, and descending rain and hail drove us back to the farmhouse. 
Two days later, when we went down with the camera, only one egg and a 
few bits of shell remained in the nest. Our ducklings had gone! They had 
doubtless been spirited away to some safe harbor, but find them I could not. 
The parents — if it were they — I did see later, on the beach. Close to the water 
sat the duck, bill over back, apparently napping, while the drake kept watch. 
Tie lay at his ease on his side when discovered, but afterwards sat up on his feet 
like a more proper guardian, occasionally moving his handsome green head 
observantly. When his sleeping mate woke she flew off into the lake and he fol- 
lowed, after which they swam around side by side as serenely as if there had 
never been an Elsa and Lohengrin episode ! 
Washington, D. C., May 23, 1915. 
A CONVENIENT COLLECTING GUN 
By LOYE HOLMES MILLER 
WITH ONE PHOTO 
T HE MAN with questionable standards in the matter of Sunday observ- 
ance or of conformance to public park regulations is not the only man 
who may be interested in a collecting pistol. Despite the implied shadow 
upon his reputation, the writer asserts that he has found a collecting pistol an 
extremely useful weapon. The field trip of other than ornithological nature, 
where a twenty-eight inch gun barrel would be out of the question; the one 
hand-bag journey when nothing bigger than a holster gun can be crowded in; 
the country walk where one may be well within the law of both church and 
state, and yet not wish to be made conspicuous by a full-grown shot gun ; the 
expedition after lizards ; — these are all occasions upon which the collecting 
pistol has served the writer well. It has added many valuable specimens to 
his collection and has established one record for the region west of the Rockies. 
My experiments began in the high school days, when an old Colt’s navy 
revolver was bored out smoothe, carried to school in a clarinet case, and used 
on the way as a bird-call. The path to school was four miles long. 
This rather heavy ordnance was later supplanted by an old Smith and 
Wesson pocket revolver with ten inches of brass tubing thrust down its throat 
and sweated in with soft solder. The most effective weapon, for its size, is the 
one now used and which forms the subject of this note. 
A Colt, .38 calibre, Police Positive Special revolver forms the basis of the 
