THE LOON. 
IN ALL the lakes of the fur 
countries, says Nuttall, these 
birds abound, where, as well as 
in the interior of the most 
northern of the states, and 
probably in the inland seas of the St. 
Lawrence, along the whole Canadian 
line, they pass the period of reproduc- 
tion. This species is the most com- 
mon of its tribe in the United States 
and is a general inhabitant of cold 
and temperate climates throughout the 
whole northern hemisphere. They 
have been known to breed as far south 
as the Fame Isles, along with the 
Eider Ducks, with which they also as- 
sociate on the shores of Labrador. In 
the United States from the severity of 
the winters, the young and even 
occasionally the old, are seen to mi- 
grate nearly, if not quite, to the estu- 
ary of the Mississippi. 
Cautious, vigilant, and fond of the 
security attending upon solitude, the 
Loon generally selects, with his mate, 
some lonely islet, on the borders of a 
retired lake far from the haunts of men, 
where, on the ground, near the water, 
they build a rude and grassy nest. 
The Loons are, from the nature of 
their food, which consists almost 
wholly of fish, utterly rank and uned- 
ible, though in New England the fol- 
lowing receipt is given for cooking 
one of the birds: Having dressed your 
Loon, stuff it with an iron wedge, 
then bake or boil. When you can 
stick a fork into the wedge the bird is 
ready for the table. 
It is chiefly remarkable for the 
quickness with which it can dive, 
many observers maintaining that it 
can dodge a bullet or shot by diving 
at the flash of the gun. Mr. W. H. 
Porteous states that he once watched 
a man for more than an hour fire 
repeatedly at a Loon on a pond in 
Maine, the bird being frozen in by 
thin ice, a small circular space being 
kept open by its movements. The ice 
was not strong enough to sustain the 
man and the open space not large 
enough to enable the bird to swim and 
rise, as a Loon cannot rise in flight 
from a stationary position in the water. 
The Loon dodged every shot, by div- 
ing, although within easy gunshot 
range from the shore. It was not 
killed until the next morning, when 
the ice had become strong enough to 
permit the man to go close up to the 
open space and shoot when the Loon 
came to the surface. " Under the 
circumstances," adds Mr. Porteous, " I 
think the man ought to have been 
shot instead of the Loon." 
"In the fall," says Thoreau, "the 
Loon came, as usual, to moult and 
bathe in the pond, making the woods 
ring with his wild laughter before I 
had risen. At rumor of his arrival all 
the mill-dam sportsmen are on the 
alert, in gigs and on foot, two by two 
and three by three, with patent rifles 
and conical balls and spy glasses. 
They come rustling through the woods 
like autumn leaves, at least ten men 
to one loon. Some station themselves 
on this side of the pond, some on that 
for the poor bird cannot be omnipres- 
ent; if he dive here he must come up 
there. But now the kind October 
wind raises, rustling the surface of 
the water, so that no loon can be heard 
or seen. The waves generously rise 
and dash angrily, taking sides with all 
waterfowl, and our sportsman must 
beat a retreat to town and shop and 
unfinished jobs. But they were too 
often successful. 
As I was paddling along the north 
shore one very calm October afternoon, 
for such days especially they settle on 
the lakes, like the milkweed down, 
a Loon, suddenly sailing out from the 
shore toward the middle a few rods in 
front of me, set up his wild laugh and 
betrayed himself. I pursued with a 
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