58 
BY THE WAYSIDE 
them, they would take wing only to re¬ 
turn immediately. AVe watched these 
creatures for a long while with keen 
interest, but it began to snow so hard 
that we could not use our glasses, so 
we went our way. Yet the spirits of 
the birds seemed not in the least de¬ 
pressed by the sudden change in the 
weather for we heard them for quite 
a while after we left them. 
But one can pursue the study of 
birds on water as well as on land. I 
have paddled close to shore and have 
watched the Spotted Sandpiper and the 
Killdeer as they fed on the mudflats 
I have watched the Great Blue Heron 
and the American Bittern as they fished 
along the shore. I have seen the Loon 
plow the water like a bomb-shell as he 
came to rest on the lake. I have pad- 
died around a point of rushes and 
rudelv distrubed the frolics of the Teal 
f 
that were playing on the mudflat just 
beyond. But one day I drew my boat 
up on shore and sat in the stern, await¬ 
ing developments. I had not waited 
long when a few Rails came cautiously 
to the edge of the water. A long-billed 
Marsh AVren showed himself among the 
rushes. Over the marsh there hundreds 
of swallows and swifts, pursuing their 
erratic course through the air and gorg¬ 
ing themselves on insects. One beetle 
was winging his ponderous way a few 
feet over my head. Suddenly a Barn 
Swallow dashed into view. There was 
a sharp almost metallic snap, then she 
glided by. The beetle had disappeared. 
A Naturalist learns to appreciate 
other things than birds on his rambles.- 
Late one afternoon in ATay, I paddled 
across Lake AVingra. The surface ot 
the lake, which had been ruffled in the 
early afternoon, was now a placid 
mirror. The sun fast disappearing be¬ 
hind the hills in the west, cast a mel¬ 
low light over the trees newly 
leafed out; and the woods on the 
shore threw their shadows far out over 
the water. In the distance the city lay 
in peace, the houses already beginning 
to be obscured in the fast gathering 
dusk, while the dome of Alain Ilall was 
resplendent in a flood of golden light. 
Here a fish splashed, there a squadron 
cf ducks was drifting about seeking 
moorings for the night. Only the sound 
of the Swamp Sparrow singing his 
last evening song and the musical 
gurgling of the water on the bow broke 
the silence. 
Another incident connected with Lake 
Wingra will always stand out clearly 
in my mind. Shortly after dinner one 
Sunday, a friend and I set out to take 
a tramp around the lake. The wind 
was blowing from the AVest and large 
masses of black clouds were floating 
ominously across the sky. AVe had not 
gone two blocks before the first of a 
series of snowflurries struck us. And 
when we were not in the midst of one 
ourselves we could see others as they 
swept across the lake. But it would 
not be long before the sun was shining 
as brightly as ever. The tramp proved 
a pretty dull one except as the mono¬ 
tony was partly relieved by the changes 
in the weather. Towards sundown the 
snowflurries of the early afternoon 
changed to rain. And as we neared the 
Verona road the sky began to show 
alarming symptoms of a fast brewing 
storm. AVe climbed a steep ascent and 
came abruptly out on the road. There, 
square in our way stood a Game-w arden. 
As soon as he saw T us, he burst into 
laughter but he soon controlled his 
