Of birds we saw unusual numbers. A little above 
Lee's bridge — a mile above Fairhaven — two flocks of 
Blue-winged Teal passed us, wheeling about over the flooded 
meadows and finally disappearing up river in the gathering 
gloom. The larger flock of (the) two must have comprised 
at least seventy-five birds, the smaller perhaps half as 
many. When near the next bridge we started four Great Blue 
Heron, a bird rare of late years on Concord River. Their 
picturesque forms loomed in the twilight so that they looked 
nearly double their real size. Besides these there were the 
old-time clouds of Rusty Blackbirds going to roost in the 
button bushes, an Osprey that poised over the stream in 
search of its evening meal, an occasional Black Duck winging 
his swift course across the gloomy sky, and at frequent 
intervals along the river’s course sly, wary Grebes ( Podi- 
lymbus oooicioes ) floating buoyantly on the water 
when at a distance, showing only their necfcs as we approached 
and finally sinking beneath the surface and afterwards 
raising their heads only, to watch us as we passed. 
Our course through the great meadows was dreary 
in the extreme, and had few pleasant or even interesting 
diversions. Once or twice we heard the hoarse quack of a 
Dusky Duck, startled from its feeding or resting ground by 
the flap of our sail or the plash of an oar. But for the 
most part the only sounds were the rushing of the chill east 
