B-c. •s.y SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM Bulletin 130 LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL ORDER ANSERES (Part) By ARTHUR CLEVELAND BENT Of Taunton, Massachusetts >0f*«~T^s7y^ ^1 'f9'C><=i , WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1920 U. S. NATIONAL MUSEUM BULLETIN 130 PL. I SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM Bulletin 130 LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL ORDER ANSERES (Part) By ARTHUR CLEVELAND BENT Of Taunton, Massachusetts ^^soiHAfT/.^^Tj^ 200 Auser brachyrhynclius 200 Pink-footed goose 200 Habits 200 Distribution 203 Branta canadensis canadensis 204 Canada goose 204 Habits 204 Distribution 222 Branta canadensis hutchinsi 223 Hutchins goose 223 Habits 223 Distribution 226 Branta canadensis occidentalis 227 Wliite-cbeeljed goose 227 Habits 227 Distribution 230 Branta canadensis minima 231 Cacliling goose 231 Habits 231 Distribution 236 Branta liernicla bernicla 237 Brant -37 Habits 237 Distribution 248 Branta bernicla nigricans •- 249 Black brant 249 Habits 249 Distribution 257 Branta leucopsis 258 Barnacle goose 2;)8 Habits 25S Distribution 262 Philacte canagica 263 Emperor goose 263 Habits 263 Distribution 268 Dendrocygna autumnalis 269 Black-bellied tree-duck 269 Habits 269 Distribution 272 Dendrocygna bicolor 272 Fulvous tree-duck 272 Habits 272 Distribution 277 Cygnus cygnus 278 100449—25 2 X CONTENTS Family Anatidae — Continued. Page Whooping swan 278 Habits 278 Distribution 280 Cygnus columbianus 281 Whistling swan 281 Habits 281 Distribution 292 Cygnus buccinator 293 Trumpeter swan 293 Habits 293 Distribution 300 References to bibliography 303 Explanation of plates ; 312 Index 373 LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL ORDER ANSERES (PART) By Arthur Cleveland Bent of Taunton^ Massachusetts Family ANATIDAE, Ducks, Geese, and Swans GLAUCIONETTA CLANGULA AMERICANA (Bonaparte) AMERICAN GOLDENEYE HABITS iSpnag. — With the breaking up of winter in Massachusetts, when tlie February sun has loosened the icy fetters of our rivers and the ice cakes are floating out of our harbors, the genial warmth of ad- vancing spring arouses amorous instincts in the breasts of the warm-blooded goldenej-es. The plumage of the drakes has reached its highest stage of perfection; their heads fairl}' glisten with metallic green luster, in sharp contrast with their spotless white inider parts: and their feet glow with brilliant orange hues. They must seem handsome indeed to their more somber companions of the opposite sex, as they chase each other about over the water, making the spray fly in ardent combat. They are strenuous, active suitoi-s, and their courtships are well worth watching. CouHship. — This interesting performance, the most spectacular courtship of any of the ducks, has been fully described in detail by Mr. William Brewster (1911). Rather than attempt to quote from such an exhaustive account, I would refer the reader to this excellent article. Avhich is well illustrated and worthy of careful study. I prefer to quote Dr. Charles W. Townsend's (1910) account of it. which is more concise and yet quite complete; he writes: One or more males swim restlessly back and forth and ai'ound a foniale. The feathers of the cheeks and crest of the male are so erected that the head looks large and round, the neck correspondingly small. As he swims along, the head is thrust out in front close to tlie water, occasionally dabbling at it. Suddenly he springs forward, elevating his breast, and at the same time be enters on the most typical and essential part of the performance. The neck is stretched str.iight up, and the bill, pointing to tlie zenith, is opened to emit a harsh, rasping double note, zzee-at, vibratory and searching in 1 2 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM character. Tlie head is then quickly snapped back until the occiput touches the rump, whence it is brought forward again with a jerk to the normal position. As the head is returned to its place the bird often springs forward kicking the water in a spurt out behind, and displaying like a flash of flame the orange-colored legs. As these courtships begin on warm days in February and last through March, probably many pairs are mated before they migrate to their breeding grounds in April. Doctor Townsend writes me that he saw a pair copulating at Barnstable, Massachusetts, on March 28. Mr. Charles E. Alford (1921) writes: Though the habit of lying more or less prone upon the water is common to most females of the Anatidae when they desire to pair, the duck goldeneye carries this performance beyond all normal bounds; her behavior on such oc- casions being, indeed, scarcely less amazing than that of the drake. With neck outstretched and her body quite limp and apparently lifeless, she allows herself to drift upon the surface exactly after the manner of a dead bird. When first I witnessed this maneuver I was completely deceived, for she re- mained thus drifting toward the shore, and with the male swimming round her for fully 1.5 minutes before actual pairing took place. This occurred on February 2, 1920, a beautiful springlike day, the whole of that month being unusually mild and sunny. Nesting. — The American goldeneye, so far as I know, invariably places its nest in a cavity in a tree, preferably in a large natural cavity and often entirely open at the top. Considerable variation is shown in the selection of a suitable nesting site, which depends on the presence of hollow trees. Near Eskimo Point, on the south coast of the Labrador Peninsula, I found a nest on June 10, 1909, in a white birch stub on the bare crest of a gravel cliff over 100 feet above the beach. The stub, which stood in an entirely open place, was 6 feet in circumference and about 18 feet high, broken and open at the top down to about 12 feet from the ground. A female golden- eye flew out of the large cavity, in Avhich were 15 handsome, green eggs on a soft bed of rotten chips and white down. The nest was about a foot below the front edge of the cavity. I have never seen another nest in such an open and exposed situation. Mr. Brewster (1900) found this species breeding abundantly at Lake Umbagog, in Maine, in 1907, and made some valuable and interesting observations on its breeding habits. About the location of its nest, he says : All the whistlers' nests which I have examined have been placed over water at heights varying from 6 or 8 to 50 or 60 feet and in cavities in the trunks of large hardwood trees such as elms, maples, and yellow or canoe birches. As the supply of such cavities is limited, even where dead or decay- ing trees abound, and as the birds have no means of enlarging or otherwise improving them ; they are not fastidious in their choice, but readily make use of any opening which can be made to serve their purpose. Thus it happens that the nest is sometimes placed at the bottom of a hollow trunk, 6, 10, or even 15 feet below the hole at which the bird enters, at others on a level LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 3 witli and scarce a foot back from the entrance, wliicli is usually rounded, and from G to 15 inches in diameter, but occasionally is so small and irregular that the whistler must have difficulty in forcing its bulky body through. I remember one nest to which the only access was by means of a vortical slit so narrow and jagged that it would ])arely admit my flattened hand. In Nortli Dakota, in 1901, we found goldcncyes nesting connnonly in the timber belts around the shores of the Lakes and along the streams in the Stump Lake region. The goldeneyes choose for their nesting sites the numerous natural cavities which occur in many of the larger trees. They seem to show no preference as to the kind of tree and not much preference as to the size of the cavity, any cavity which is large enough to conceal them being satisfactory. The occupied cavity can usually be easily recognized by the pres- ence of one or two pieces of white down clinging to its edges ; some- times considerable of the down is also scattered about on the nearest branches. The first nest that we found, on May 30, was in an ex- ceedingly small cavity in a dead branch of a small elm, about 10 feet from the ground. We heard a great scrambling and scratching going on inside, as the duck climbed up to the small opening, through which she wriggled out with some difficulty and flew away. I measured the opening carefully and found it only 3 inches wide by 41/^ inches high; the cavity was about 3 feet deep and measured 6 inches by 7 inches at the bottom. The fresh eggs which it con- tained were lying on the hare chips at the bottom of the cavit}^, sur- rounded by a little white down. On June 1 we explored a large tract of heawy- thnber on a promon- tory extending out into the lake for about half a mile, where we located five nests of the American goldeneye. The first nest was about 20 feet up in a cavity in the trunk of a large swamp oak and contained 4 eggs, apparently fresh. The second was in the trunk of a large elm and held only 1 egg, evidently a last year's egg. The third, which held 5 eggs, was in an open cavity in an elm stub about 12 feet from the ground. None of these eggs were taken and doubt- less the sets were incomplete. Wliile climbing to a Krider hawk's nest I noticed an elm stub nearby with a large open cavity in the top, which on closer investigation was found to contain a golden- eye's nest with 10 eggs buried in a mass of white down. The stub was about 10 feet high and the cavity about 2 feet deep; the bird was not on the nest, but the eggs proved to have been incubated about one week'. A pair of western house wrens also had a nest in the dead branch above the cavity. The fifth and last nest was found while walking along the shore, by seeing the goldeneye fly out over our heads from a small swamp oak on the edge of the woods. I could almost reach the large (.])('n 4 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM cavity from the ground; the opening was well decorated with the tell-tale down, and at the bottom of the cavity, 2 feet deep, was a set of 14 eggs, in which incubation had begun, and one addled last year's egg, completely buried in a profusion of white down, so well matted together that it could be lifted from the eggs without falling apart, like a soft warm blanket. In the Lake Winnipegosis region in Manitoba, where large hollow trees are scarce, we found the goldeneyes making the best of rather poor accommodations. We examined four nests all of which were in small, hollow burr oaks {Querciis macrocarpa) which were about the only trees in which suitable hollows could be found ; the entrances to all of these nests were not over 5 feet from the ground; in some cases the trees were so badly split that the eggs were partially exposed to wind and rain and much of the down from the nests had been blown out onto surrounding trees and bushes; two such nests, found on June 2, with incomplete sets, were at the bottoms of large cavities, practically on a level Avith the ground in old stubs so badly cracked that the eggs were plainly visible. We were told that the " wood ducks," as they are called, would desert their nests if the eggs were handled, which proved to be true in the only two instances where we tried it. According to Mr. John Macoun (1909) a nest was found by Mr. William Spreadborough " in a hollow cottonwood log on the ground," near Indian Head, Saskatchewan. He also quotes Mr. G. E. Wliite as saying that the " nest is composed of grass, leaves, and moss and lined with feathers." I have never seen anything but rotten chips and down in a goldeneye's nest, and I doubt if any outside material is ever brought in. Prol^ably the duck does not always take the trouble to clean out a cavity, but lays its eggs on whatever accu- mulation of rubbish happens to be there. The down is added as incu- bation advances until a thick warm blanket is provided to cover the eggs, when necessary, during the absence of the bird. I have a beauti- ful nest of this species in my collection, taken in 1901, with a thickly matted down quilt over the eggs which, though repeatedly handled, has retained its shape and consistency up to the present time. According to Kev. F. C. R. Jourdain the goldeneye has been fre- quently induced to nest in nesting boxes in Germany. Mr. A. D. Henderson tells me that he has tried the experiment successfully near Belvedere, Alberta. The down in the goldeneye's nest is large, light and fluffy; it is practically pure white in color. The breast feathers in it are pure white. Eggs. — The goldeneye ordinarily lays from 8 to 12 eggs; 5 or 6 eggs sometimes complete the set; I have found as many as 15 and LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 5 Mr. Brewster has found 19. Mr. Brewster (1900) thinks that two females sometimes lay in the same nest, and says " several of the rounded, pure white, thick shelled eggs of the hooded merganser are somtimes included in a set of the green, thin-shelled eggs of the whistler." The eggs of the goldeneye are handsome and easily distinguished from those of any other Xortli American duck except its near rela- tive, the Barrow goldeneye. In shape they vary from elliptical oval to elliptical ovate; a few specimens before me are almost ovate. The shell is thin, with a dull luster. The color is usually a clear, pale " malachite green,'' varying in tlie darker specimens to a more oliva- ceous or '' pale chromium green " ; various shades of color often occur in the same set. The measurements of 84 eggs, in various collections, average 59.7 by 43.4 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 65 by 44, 59 by 45.5, 48.8 by 43.5, and 59 l)y 41.2 millimeters. Young. — Incubation is performed entirely by the female and lasts for a period of about 20 days. Only one brood is raised in a seas»n. The young remain in the nest for a day of two, until they are strong enough to make the perilous descent to the ground or water. Many of the earlier writers have asserted that this, and other species of tree-nesting ducks, carry the young to the nearest water in their bills, but their observations seem to be based largely on hearsay or on insufficient evidence. Mr. Brewster's (1900) study of this species has given us positive evidence to the contrary. Although he personally missed the opportunity of seeing the performance, his trustworthy assistant, K. A. Gilbert, gave the following graphic account of what he saw, when the young were ready to leave the nest : At 6.45 the old duck appeared at the entrance to the nest, wliere .she sat for five minutes moving her liead continually and looking about in every direc- tion included witliin her field of vision ; tlien she sank back out of si.2;ht, re- appearin.i^ at the end of a minute and looking about as before for another five minutes. At the end of this second period of observation she flew down to the water and swam round the stub three times, cluckin,!? and calling. On completing the third round she stopped directly under the hole and gave a single loud cluck or call, when the ducklings began scrambling up to the entrana^ and dropping down to the water in .such quick succession as to fall on top of one another. They literally poured out of the nest much as shot would fall from one's hand. One or two hesitated or paused for an instant on reaching the mouth of the hole, but the greater number toppled out over the edge as soon as they appeared. All used their tiny wings freely, beating them continuously as they descended. They did not seem to strike the water with much force. While this was going on the old duck sat motionless on the water looking up at the nest. When the last duckling dropped at her side she at once swam off at the head of tb(> brood, quickly disappearing in a flooded thicket a few rods away. 6 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM Dr. W. N. Macartney (1918) observed a similar performance near Dundee, Quebec ; he writes : On the afternoon of July 7 the old cluck was seen at the foot of the tree, standing on the ground. She gave several low quacks or calls, and out of the hole in the tree overhead promptly tumbled about a baker's dozen of fledgling ducks. They were unable to fly, but were sufficiently grown to be able to ease their fall to the earth, and not unlike a flock of butterflies, they came down pell-mell, fluttering and tumbling, some of them heels over head, until they reached the ground, unharmed. The tree was nearly but not quite perpendicular, so they were unable to scramble down. The old bird gathered them in a bunch and piloted them along the fence for some 3 or 4 rods to the river. Down the rocky shore they went and into the water. The old duck then sank low in the water and the ducklings gathered over her back in a compact clump. She took them across the bay to a bed of rushes, some 10 rods distant, where they disappeared from sight. Very little seems to be known about the food of the young, but probably they are fed largely on insects and soft animal food. Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1913) gives the following account of the be- havior of a mother goldeneye and her young on a Labrador stream : The old bird crouched low in the water, her golden eyes shining very prom- inently, and uttered hoarse rasping croaks. The young, whose eyes were gray-blue and inconspicuous, at once scattered, diving repeatedly, and dis- appeared in the bushes, while the mother kept prominently in view within 20 yards of the canoe leading us downstream. After repeatedly swimming and flying short distances ahead of the canoe for half a mile or so, croaking all the time, she disappeared around a bend and undoubtedly flew back to the young. Near at hand the young made no sound, but at a distance a loud beseeching peep was uttered. Plumages. — The downy young goldeneye is quite distinctively colored and marked; it also has a carriage all its own, for it walks in a more upright position than other young ducks and it carries its head in a more loftly and perky attitude, which gives it a very smart appearance. The upper part of the head, down to a line run- ning straight back from the commissure to the nape, is deep, rich, glossy " bone brown " ; the throat and cheeks are pure white, the white spaces nearly meeting on the hind neck ; the upper parts vary from pale " clove brown " on the upper back to deep " bone browm " on the rump; these colors shade off to "hair brown" on the sides and form a ring of the same around the neck ; the posterior edges of the wings are white, and there is a white spot on each scapular re- gion and one on each side of the rump; the belly is white. The colors become paler with age. The first feathers appear on the flanks and scapulars and then in the tail while the bird is very small. According to Millais (1913) : Three nestlings hatched by Mr. Blaauw, at Gooilust, in Holland, on June 20, 1908, began to show feathers on the scapulars on July 18th. On August LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 7 S they were coiiiplotely feathered except for the llieht feathers, which were just beginning to grow. At tliis date the irides were chocohvte brown and tbe legs and toes yellowish. On August 25 the young birds were able to fly. Early in the fall, as soon as the young birds have attained their full growth, the first winter plumage begins to develop. This plumage in the male is entirely different from the adult plumage and closely resembles that of the female. The young male may be distinguished from the female by its decidedly larger size; it also has less gray on the breast (which decreases toward spring), the back is darker gray, the head is darker and more or less mottled with dusky, and there is a more or less distinct suggestion of the white loral spot, which increases toward spring. This plumage is worn all through the first winter and spring, with slight and gradual changes toward maturity by a limited growth of new feathers; the head becomes darker and greener, the loral spot whiter, and the scapulars are changed. Individuals vary greatly in the time and extent of these changes. I have a young male in my collection, taken on May 27, which is still in the first winter plumage. In July the young male passes into the eclipse plumage, in wdtich it can be dis- tinguished from the adult by the wings, which are not molted until later. The change from the eclipse into the adult winter plumage is very slow in young birds, lasting well into the winter, and it is not until this molt is completed that old and young birds become indistinguishable. The adult male assumes a semieclipse plumage late in July or in August, involving principally the head and neck, which becomes brown and mottled like that of the young male ; the white loral spot partiall}^ disappears; the scapulars resemble those of the young male, and there are brownish feathers in the flanks. This is fol- lowed by a complete molt into the winter plumage, which is some- times prolonged until late in the fall, but not so late as in the young bird. The molts and plumages of the female are parallel with those of the male, but old and young birds are not so easily recognized. I believe that specimens showing the orange zone in the bill and the well-marked black band across the white space in the wing are old birds. The white neck of the adult female is acquired during the first spring. Food. — While with us on the coast the goldeneye feeds largely on small mussels and other mollusks, which it obtains b}'^ diving in deep water or by dabbling in the shallows near the shore, it feeds to some extent also on the seeds of eel grass {Zostera marina). The stomach of a bird taken by Dr. John C. Phillips (1911) in a lake in Massa- 8 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM chusetts "contained seeds of pondweed, water lily, bayberry, and burr reed, buds and roots of wild celery, and bits of water boatmen, and dragonfly nymphs." On the Pacific coast Mr. W. L. Dawson (1909) found it feeding on mussels, crabs, marine worms, and on the remains of decayed salmon. On inland streams it may often be seen in the rapids chasing young trout fry or other small fish ; tadpoles, fish spawn, and the larvae of insects are also eaten. Audubon discovered it hunting for cray-fish in the clay banks of our inland rivers. Throughout the interior, in fresh-water lakes and streams, it lives largely on vegetable food; it feeds on a great variety of aquatic plants, such as teal moss {Limno- hiuTTi), flags {h'is), duckweed, pondweed, water plantain, and blad- derwort, according to Doctor Yorke (1899). Behavior. — The flight of the goldeneye is exceedingly swift and strong. About its breeding grounds among the lakes and streams of eastern Canada it is very active on the wing, circling high in the air about the lakes or flying up and down the streams above the tree tops, singly or in pairs, the female usually leading; it seems to shoAv some curiosity or anxiety as to the intentions of the intruder, for it often repeats its flight again and again over the same course. The vibrant whistling of its wings in flight is audible at a long distance and has earned for it the popular name of " whistler '" or " whistle-wing." Mr. W. L. Dawson (1909) has thus graphically described it: Of all wing music, from the droning of the rufous hummer to the startling whirr of the ruifed grouse, I know of none so thrilling sweet as the whistling wing note of the goldeneye. A pair of the birds have been frightened from the water, and as they rise in rapid circles to gain a view of some distant goal they gov/ the air with vibrant whistling sounds. Owing to a difference in wing beats between male and female, the brief moment when the wings strike in unison with the effect of a single bird is followed by an ever-changing syncopation which challenges the waiting ear to tell if it does not hear a dozen birds instead of only two. Again, in the dim twilight of early morning, while the birds are moving from a remote and secure lodging place to feed in some favorite stretch of wdld water, one guesses at their early industry from the sound of multi- tudinous wings above, contending with the cold ether. When migrating, goldeneyes travel in small flocks usually high in the air. When rising from a pond they usually circle about for a few times, gradually climbing upward, and fly off at a considerable height; even on the seashore they are seldom seen flying for any distance close to the water. They can usually be recognized by their short necks, large heads, and stout bodies, as well as by the large amount of white in their plumage. This latter character has given them the name of " pied duck " or " pie bird " among the natives of the eastern Provinces. LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 9 The goldeneye is an expert diver; and although at times it uses both wings and feet under water, its method of diving, with wings pressed ck)se to the sides, shows that it generally uses its feet alone. Dr. Arthur A. Allen writes to me that he has " seen goldeneyes using their wings, half spread, when feeding normally.'' When undis- turbed it dives with great ease; the bill is pointed forward until it touches the water, when the bird slips out of sight without an effort, causing hardly a ripple. But when alarmed it plunges forward and downward with great vigor, cleaving the water as it does so. Mr. F. S. Hersey timed a goldeneye diving and found that it dove with great regularity, remaining under for 21 seconds and on the surface for 13 seconds between dives. Although it usually feeds in rather shallov*' water, it can dive to great depths in search of shell- fish if necessary ; for this reason it is called " le plongeur " by the French residents of southern Labrador. J. G. Millais (1913) narrates the following interesting incident, illustrating its power as a plunger : No ducks are more bold in the " headers," they will talie from tlie clouds when pursued by a raptorial bird. I was collecting birds one day in February, 1882, on Loch Leven, the Inverness-shire sea loch, when I heard the sound of goldeneye, accompanied by a peculiar hum of something passing through the air. On looking up I was ju.st in time to see the interesting spectacle of a peregrine making a stoop at three goldeneyes. The ducks at this moment were high, I should say SO yards in the air, and closed their wings as they heard or saw the peregrine coming, and dropped as if shot to the surface of the water. On striking the water there was no pause, they just passed out of sight, rising nearly 100 3'ards away, and flying low over the water. The peregrine, after its unsuccessful " stoop," did not pursue them. Like the long-tailed duck, but scarcely with the same skill in starting, the goldeneye has the power of opening its wings immediately on reaching the surface of the water, and commencing to Hy. I have seen other ducks act in a similar manner when chased by peregrines, but none displayed such promptitude or fell from such a height as did these goldeneyes. He says further : In clear water it is easy to note the powerful strokes of the legs of these -ducks, which seem to beat with great rapidity under water and much power. The stroke is more or less parallel to the wings ; the head is held out straight in front. I have watched for hours the male goldeneye that lived for three jears on the island below Perth bridge, and used to find his food at the bot- tom of the river in some S to 10 feet of water. In summer this water was as clear as crystal, and from the bridge above the observer could note every movement on the part of the bird. It always proceeded to a depth of 8 to 10 feet of water, and began to dive. On reaching the bottom, it at once com- menced to turn the stones over with the bill, and from under these various water insects were found or caught as they attempted to escape. Sometimes it would find a small batch of young fresh-water mussels, and these it would devour very quickly one after the other, like a duck taking grain out of a pan. It never stayed under water more than a minute, even when finding food abundant in one spot, but came up, rested a moment or two on the surface, 10 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM and dived again. All food was swallowed where it was found, and small pebbles and fairly large stones were pushed over in the search. Several times I saw the bird just move a flat stone. It would go all around it and try it from every point. If unsuccessful it would come to the surface and rest awhile, and then go down again for another effort. In a lake the goldeneye will dive in perpendicular position, but in flowing water it dives in a slant against the stream or tideway. Their bodies are very light, and bounce up to the surface like a cork immediately they cease to push downward with the feet. In still water the goldeneye often dives in circles to get to the bottom. The goldeneye is not much given to vocal performances. The court- ship note of the male has been described by Doctor Townsend (1910) as " a harsh, rasping, double note, zzee-at^ vibratory and searching in character." Elon H. Eaton (1910) says that the male when startled or lost has a sharp cur-r-reio. Edward H. Forbush (1912) credits the female with "a single whistling peep." And Ora W. Knight (1908) has " heard the parents utter a low-pitched quack to call their young." M. P. Skinner says that "the quack of this duck seems harsher than the mallard's." Game. — During the four j^ears that I lived on the coast our most interesting winter sport was whistler shooting. Long before day- light we braved the winter's cold and pushed out our skiff to our blind among the ice cakes. We wore white nightgowns over our clothes, white caps and gloves, and sometimes had our gun barrels whitewashed, for the goldeneyes are very wary birds and it is neces- sary to remain motionless and invisible to be successful. The wooden decoys are placed, as soon as it is light enough to see, in some con- venient open space, preferably off the mouth of some fresh-water creek. The blind is made of ice cakes or snow, high enough to con- ceal the gunners. With the coming of the daylight birds begin to move; large gray gulls are seen flapping slowly up the bay to feed on the mud flats ; a flock of black ducks flies out from an open spring hole where it has been feeding all night. The winter sunrise is beau- tiful, as the rosy dawn creeps up from the cold, gray sea and sends a warm glow of color over floating ice and banks of snow. Our eyes are trained seaward to catch the first glimpses of incoming whistlers. At last a black speck is dimly discerned in the distance against a pink cloud ; on it comes straight toward the blind, and we recognize it as an old cock whistler, the advance guard of the morning flight ; he circles, sets his wings and scales down over the decoys; in our eagerness we betray ourselves by a sudden movement ; he sees us and scrambles upward into the air to escape, but it is too late, the guns speak and the first kill is scored. Soon a small flock of five birds comes in, the shrill whistling of their wings sending a thrill of pleas- ure through our chilled veins; they scale down toward the decoys, but see the blind, wheel, and fly off without offering us a shot ; they settle in the water away off among the floating ice and it is useless LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 11 to stalk them. Wc have been too conspicuous to the keen eyes of the birds and must conceal ourselves better; so we pile up more ice around the blind and keep more <]iiiet. Better luck follows in con- sequence, for the ducks decoy well, if their suspicions are not aroused, and durin;twn adhering to the entrance of the hole identified the nest as belonging to the bufllchead. The nest had been used the previous year by buffleheads and during the following winter by flying squirrels. This was indicated by a quantity of old Imfilebead down, with fragments of eggshell adhering, lying at the bottom of the tree. To this dowii the Hying squirrels had added a quantity of moss. Ap- parently the female buftlehead had removed the mixture of moss and down l)efore commencing to lay. Wliere trees are scarce, as in certain parts of Saskatchewan, the biiltiehead is said to hiy its eggs in a hole in a bank, after the manner of the belted kingfisher, using for this purpose the deserted burrow of a gopher near some small lake. Such cases must be exceptional, however. The down in the nest is small, light, and flimsy; it is " pal- lid purplish gray " in color, with small white centers. The breast feathers in it are piu-e white. E(/(/s. — The bufflehead lays from G to l-l eggs, but 10 or 12 seems to be the usual number. M. P. Skinner writes to me that he '' en- countered a female on Yellowstone River with 10 well-grown young, and, as 1 could not find another parent, I have always assigned this extraordinary brood to the one mother." The shape is bluntly ovate, elliptical ovate, or nearly oval. The shell is smooth and slightly glossy. The color varies from '' ivory yellow *" to " marguerite yellow "' or ''pale olive bull'."' The measure- ments of 86 eggs in various collections, average 48.5 by 34.7 milli- meters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 55 by 37, 53.5 b}' 38, and 40 by 26 millimeters. Plumages. — As might be expected, the downy young bufflehead closel}'^ resembles the young goldeneye in color pattern. The upper parts, including the upper half of the head from below the lores and e^es, the hind neck, the back and the rump, are deep rich " bone brown,"' with a lighter gloss on the forehead and mantle; the inner edge of the wing is pure white; there is a large white spot on each side of the scapular region and on each side of the rump ; and an in- distinct whitish spot on each flank. Tlie under parts, including the chin, throat, cheeks, breast, and belly are pure white, shading otf gradually into the darker color on the sides of the body and with an indistinct brownish collar around the lower neck. In the Juvenal plumage the sexes are much alike and resemble the adult female, except that the colors are duller and browner and the white cheek patches smaller than in the adult. The young male soon begins to difi^erentiate from the young female, by increasing faster in size and by the development of tlie head, with a more conspicuous 28 BULLETIN L30, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM white patch. The progi-ess toward maturity is very slow, and even in May the young male has only partially assumed the adult plumage ; the tail and much of the body plumage has been renewed, the wings are still immature, and the head has acquired large white patches, but only a few of the purple feathers of the adult. A complete summer molt occurs in July and August, after which the adult plumage is gradually assumed and is completed in November and De- cember. The young male thus becomes adult at an age of 17 or 18 months. The young female makes practically the same progress to- ward maturity. I have never seen the eclipse plumage of the bufflehead, but accord- ing to Mr. Millais (1913) both old and young males assume " a fairly complete eclipse, resembling a similar stage of plumage in the goldeneye." Food. — The bufflehead obtains its food by diving, usually feeding in small companies so that one or more remain on the surface to watch for approaching dangers while the others are below; some- times only one remains above, but it is only rarely that all go below at once; should the sentinel become alarmed it communicates in some way with the others which come to the surface and all swim or fly away to a safe distance. Neltje Blanchan (1898) describes its feeding habits very neatly, as follows: A bufflehead overtakes and eats little fish under water or equally nimble insects on the surface, probes the muddy bottom of the lake for small shell- fish, nibbles the seawrack and other vegetable grow^th of the salt-water inlets, all the while toughening its flesh by constant exercise and making it rank by a fishy diet, until none but the hungriest of spoilsmen care to bag it. Audubon (1840) says: Their food is much varied according to situation. On the seacoast. or in estuaries, they dive after shrimps, small fry, and bivalve shells ; and in fresh water they feed on small crayfish, leeches, and snails, and even grasses. Ora W. Knight (1908) says that in the inland regions of Maine " they feed on chubs, shiners, small trout fry, and other small fish. Along the coast their diet is very similar." Other writers include in their food various small mollusks, crustaceans, beetles, locusts, grasshoppers, and other insects. Dr. F. Henry Yorke (1899) lists the following genera of plants among the food of the bufflehead: Limnohium.. Mynophyllinn, Oallitriche, Utricularia., and Pontederia. Vegetable matter seems to form only a small part of the food of this species and is eaten mainly during the summer. Behavior. — The flight of the bufflehead is exceedingly swift and direct, generally at no very great elevation above the water, and is performed with steady and very rapid beats of its strong little LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 29 wings. It rises neatly and quickly from the surface of the water and sometimes from below it, bursting into the air at full speed. Wlien alighting on the water it strikes with a splash and slides along the surface. It generally travels in small irregular flocks made up largely of females and young males, with two or three old drakes. It is one of the best of divers, disappearing with the suddenness of a grebe, with the plumage of its head compressed and its wings closely pressed to its sides. It can often succeed in diving at the flash of a gun and thus escape being shot. Under water it can swim with closed wings swiftly enough to catch the small fish on which it feeds so largely; but I believe that it often uses its wings under water for extra speed. It can also dive to considerable depths to secure its food from the bottom. Charles E. Alford (1920) says that it seldom or never dives to a greater depth than 2 fathoms. He timed a large number of dives and found that the period of im- mersion varied from 15 to 23 seconds, usually it was about 20, and the interval between dives varied from 4 to 8 seconds. The following incident, related by Mr. Samuel Hubbard, jr. (1893), shows that its diving powers are sometimes taxed to the limit : A broad, sandy bay made in from the harbor, the upper end of whicli terminated in a shallow slough about IS inches deep. I waded across and was proceeding toward the beach, when my attention was attracted by a small bufllehead .duck {Charitonetta albeola) commonly called butterball. He was swimming around in the slough and obtaining his food in the way common to his kind, by diving and picking up that which came his way. With an admir- ing glance at his beautiful plumage, I was about to pass on, when one of those pirates of the air, a duck hawk (Faico peregrinus anatum) came in sight. Without hesitating an instant, he made straight for my little friend and swooped at him. His long talons came down with a clutch, but they closed on nothing, for the duck was under the water. Undaunted the hawk hovered overhead, and as the water was clear and shallow, he could follow every movement of his prey. Again the duck came up ; the hawk swooped to seize him, each move being repeated in quick succession and each dive be- coming shorter and shorter. It was evident that the poor little hunted creature was getting desperate, for the next move he made was to come out of the water flying. The hawk promptly gave chase. There was some clever dodging in the air, but the duck, frightened and tired, soon saw that his swift pursuer was getting the best of it, so he closed his wings tiglit against his body and dropped like a stone into the water and plunged out of sight. Now comes the beginning of the end. While he was under water he either saw the hawk hovering over him or else he became bewildered, for he came again out of the water flying. liike lightning the Isawk struck; there was a muflled " squawk," and the tragedy was ended. Dr. J. G. Cooper (1860) writes: I once saw a male that I had just wounded dive in clear water, and, seizing hold, by its bill, of a root growing under water, remain voluntarily submerged for almost five minutes, until he supposed all danger past, when, again as- cending to the surface, he paddled off with groat rapidity. 30 BULLETIISr 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM I cannot remember that I have ever heard its note, but Dr. D. G. Elliot (1898) says that "it utters at times a single guttural note, which sounds like a small edition of the hoarse roll of the canvas- back and other large diving ducks." L. R. Dice (1920) says of its notes: As a rule they are silent; only on a few occasions were any calls heard. Once while driving a pair in front of a blind to take pictures, the male and female became separated. Then the male gave a squeaky call, which the female answered with a hoarse quack, quack, and the male immediately flew to her side. At another time a female alighted in an eddy of the river and gave a low call, quk, quk, quk, quk, quk, quk, quk, slowly, and the male in a few minutes appeared and alighted beside her. Fall. — In the fall this species is one of the later migrants, coming along Avith the hardier Avinter ducks. It is not of much account as a game bird; its body is small and its flesh is not particularly de- sirable, as it feeds so largely on animal food. It is, however, often very fat, from which it has derived the name of " butterball." It is apparently not regularly hunted or sought for by gunners, but is often shot while hunting other species. Winter. — W. L. Dawson (1909) says of the habits of this species on the coast of Washington : Buffleheads are among our most abundant ducks in fall and winter through- out the State. They are found alike in swift rivers and on placid mill ponds. Brackish pools and tide channels, tide flats, and tossing billows, all are alike to these happy and hardy little souls. Perhaps the greatest number, however, are found upon the bays and shallower waters of Puget Sound. They associate chiefly in little flocks of from half a dozen to 50 individuals, and they venture inshore, as often as they dare, to feed on the rising tide. When they reach us in October they are fat as butter (whence, of course, "butterball"), but they have gained their flesh on the cleaner feeding grounds of the northern interior. On a fare of fish and marine worms, which they obtain in salt water almost entirely by diving, their flesh soon becomes rank and unpx'ofitable. M. P. Skinner has sent me the following notes on the habits of buffleheads in Yellowstone Park: As a rule these ducks are on the lai-ger waters such as Yellowstone Lake and Yellowstone River, resorting to smaller lakes and ponds at very infre- quent intervals. In stormy times, they are driven to quieter waters, but even then prefer to find a calm spot near shore of Yellowstone Lake or a back water on the river. When on streams, they do not care for the swifter water. They are fond of sitting on sand bars, gravel bars, mud points, and on the beaches about Yellowstone Lake. Many of these birds are to be seen all winter in openings in the ice on the lake, and on the river where kept ice^free by the curi'ent, along the Firehole River kept open by hot geyser water, and on tlie Gardiner River below the moiith of warm Boiling River. They are social and keep together in small, compact flocks. Similar food habits bring them in close contact with some ducks and the limited open water in winter with others. In these ways, they are often with mergansers, Barrow goldeneye, American goldeneye, canvasbacks, redheads, bluebills, coot, grebes, mallard, LIFE HISTORIES OF XORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 31 green-winged teal, baldpate. shovellei'S, ruddy ducks, geese, and swans. On the sandy beaches, they are often near spotted sandpipers, or pelican, if not actually with them. From the above it will be inferred that the bulilehead winters as far north as it can find open water in the interior. On the coasts it is found as far north as Xew England and British Columbia. It seems to prefer to be on or near the frost line and does not go much south of the United States in winter. Dr. Leonard C. Sanford (1903) writes: The butterball is common on both coasts, and is fond of shallow, sandy bays, frequenting the tide rips and mouths of rivers, remaining through the coldest weather. A fe\y years ago this bird was common all along the New England shore. Large numbers wintered on the sound between New Haven and Stratford, where the coast is shallow and sandy, early in the moi'uing leaving the outer flats and feeding up the rivers. It was a simple matter to shoot them on their flight, as they came over the bars, low down and usually in the same course. Recently the butterball seem to have largely disappeared from the New England coast, though still common on bays farther south. DISTRIBUTION Breeding range. — Mainly in the interior of Canada. East to north- ern Ontario (probably), said to breed in New Brunswick and re- corded once as breeding in southeastern Maine (Washington County). Has been recorded as breeding formerly, and probably only casually, south to southeastern Wisconsin (Pewaukee Lake), northern Iowa (Clear Lake, etc.), and Wyoming (Meeteetse Creek); but it evi- dently does not Ijreed now anywhere south of the Canadian border except in northern Montana (Milk lliver, Flathead Lake, and Meagher County). West to central British Columbia (Sumas and southern Okanogan). There is a recent breeding record for Cali- fornia (Eagle Lake). Xorth to west central Alaska (Kuskokwim lliver and the Yukon Valley), northern Mackenzie (nearly to the mouth of that river). Great Slave Lake (Forts Rae and Resolution) and the southwestern coasts of Hudson Bay and James Bay. Winter range. — Mainly in the United States, entirely across the continent. South casually to Cuba; commonly to South Carolina, northern Florida (Leon County), the Gulf coasts of Louisiana and Texas ; and less commonly or rarely to central Mexico and Lower California (San Quintin). North to the Aleutian and Commander Islands, the Alaska Peninsula, southern British Columbia (Okano- gan I^ake), northwestern Montana (TetloAv County), the Great Lakes (Michigan, Huron, and Ontario)' and the coast of Maine. Spring migration. — Northward and inland. Early dates of arrival: Pennsylvania, Kenovo, February 29; Massachusetts, INIarch 11; Ontario. Ottawa, March 26; Illinois, Shawneetown, February 100449—25 1 32 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 27; Iowa, southern, March 1; Minnesota, Heron Lake, March 6; Alberta, Alix, April 24; Alaska, Cross Sound, April 13, and Craig, May 9; Pribilof Islands, May 19. Average dates of arrival: Penn- sylvania, Eenovo, March 18; Massachusetts, March 11; New Bruns- wick and Nova Scotia, March 22; Indiana, central, March 2; Illi- nois, northern, March 21; Michigan, southern, March 31; Ontario, southern, April 7, and Ottawa, April 24; Nebraska, Omaha, March 15; Iowa, southern, March 22; Minnesota, Heron Lake, March 26; South Dakota, central, April 8; Manitoba, southern, April 25; Saskatchewan, Osier, May 2; Mackenzie, Fort Simpson, May 11. Late dates of departure : North Carolina, Smith's Island, April 15 ; Massachusetts, Taunton, May 2; California, Los Angeles County, April 22. Fall migration. — Gradual southward movement, mainly inland. Dates of arrival : Ontario, Ottawa, October 26 ; Nova Scotia, Sable Island, November T; Massachusetts, October 8; Rhode Island, Octo- ber 13; Pennsylvania, November 10. Late dates of departure: Alaska, Fort Reliance, October 7; Quebec, Montreal, November 1; Ontario, Ottawa, November 8. Casual records.-— Accidental in southern Greenland (Godhaven, 1827, and Frederikshaab, 1891). Two records for Bermuda (No- vember, 1875, and December, 1845). Accidental in Cuba, Porto Rico, and Hawaiian Islands (Maui). Egg dates. — British Columbia: Six records. May 15 to June 4. Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba: Five records. May 31 to June 11. Alaska : Two records, June 6 and 12. CLANGULA HYEMALIS (Linnaeus) OLDSQUAW HABITS Spring. — Oldsquaws, or long-tailed ducks, as I should prefer to have them called, are lively, restless, happy-go-lucky little ducks, known to most of us as hardy and cheery visitors to our winter sea- coasts, associated in our minds with cold, gray skies, snow squalls, and turbulent wintry waves. Though happy and gay enough during the winter, the height of their merriment is seen in the spring or when the first signs of the breaking up of winter announce the com- ing of the nuptial season and arouse the sexual ardor of these warm- hearted little ducks. Early in the spring they become more restless than ever, as they gather in merry flocks in the bays and harbors of the New England coasts; the males, in various stages of budding nuptial plumage and fired wdth the enthusiasm of returning passion, gather in little groups about some favored female in fantastic pos- LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 33 tures, rushing, flying, quarreling, and filling the air with their musi- cal love notes. If noisy at other times, they are still more so now, vieing with each other to make themselves seen and heard; it is a lively scene, full of the springtime spirit of joy, love, and life. The increasing warmth of the April sun and the stimulus of the courtship activities start the restless birds on their spring migration by various routes to their summer homes on Arctic shores. While cruising along the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence on ]\Iay 23, 1909, we saw what was probably the last of the spring migration on the south coast of Labrador ; between the Moisie River and Seven Islands we saw numerous large flocks of from 50 to 200 birds each, perhaps 1,000 or 1,500 birds in all. They were noisy and very active, on the water and flying about high in the air, and man}^ seemed to be in summer plumage or changing into it. They were evidently pre- paring for their overland flight to Hudson Bay ; we saw none farther east along the coast, and, from what we could learn from the natives. Ave inferred that very few migrate around the eastern coast of Labrador and that the bulk of the flight passes overland northwest- ward to Hudson Baj^ Oldsquaws no longer breed on the south coast of Labrador, where Audubon found them, and probably very few still breed on the northeast coast ; I saw none during the summer of 1913 even as far north as Cape Mugford, but I obtained a skin of a male in full breeding plumage from an Eskimo at Okak and saw a set of eggs in Rev. W. W. Perrett's collection, taken at Ramah. Lucien M. Turner's unpublished notes state that "they arrive at the mouth of the Koksoak River as soon as the ice breaks up ; this being a variable date, of course influences the time from the 20th of May to the lOtli of June. Their first appearance is usually in the smaller fresh-water ponds and lakes from which the ice earlier disappears, long before the sea ice in the coves and ba3^s begins to move out." Probably these birds reach this portion of Ungava by the Hudson Ba}- route rather than by an outside route and through Hudson Straits, which are badly icebound at this season. There is an extensive northward migration through the interior. E. A. Preble (1908) writes: In the spring of 1904 I first saw this species at Fort Simpson May 10, from which date it was common. The birds, usually in small flocks, floated down with the current amonj; the ice floes, occasionally rising? and winging their way swiftly upstream to regain lost ground. The males played about on the water, chasing each other and uttering their loud, clear- notes, which soon became associated in the mind with the long, cool evenings of the Arctic spring, with the sun hanging low in the northwestern horizon. When they are lightly swim- ming about, the long tails are elevated at an angle of about 45°, and with their striking color pattern the birds present a very jaunty appearance. They are usually rather tame, sometimes rising and coming to meet the canoe, and actually becoming less wild if shot at. AVhen slightly wounded they are 34 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM among the most expert of clivers and are difficvilt to secure. The males played together considerably before the females arrived, but after that important event their gymnastic and vocal performances knew no bounds. Dr. E. ^y. Nelson (1887) says that this is the first of the ducks to reach high northern latitudes in Alaska. The seal hunters find them in the open spaces in the ice off St. Michaels from the 1st to the 20th of April, and the first open water in shore is sure to attract them. After their arrival it is no uncommon occurrence for the tem- perature to fall to 25° or 30° belovF zero, and for furious storms of wind and snow to rage for days, so the first comers must be hardy and vigorous to with- stand the exposure. W. Elmer Ekbla^v has sent me the following attractive accomit of the arrival of the oldsqiiaws in northern Greenland: The distinctive resonant call of the oldsquaw announces the arrival of real spring to the far Arctic shores. The earlier herald, the snow bunting, comes while yet the land is covered with snow, while still the ice lies solid and un- broken throughout the wind-swept fjords, and while yet the midnight sun is new and even the noonday is chill ; the oldsquaw comes when the snow is gone from the valleys and the slopes, and the first saxifrage and willow have burst into blossom, when great dark leads and pools of open water break the white expanse of fjord ice, and when tlie sun at midsummer height is warm at mid- night as at noon. When the challenging clarion of the oldscpiaw rings out over the great north, spring has come. The first few oldsquaws come winging noisily in along the open leads the first week in June. The males predominate in the first flocks, but by mid-June, when the iuunigration i.s at its height, the femnles ;)piiear to bo ;is numerous as the males. Until the inland ponds and lakes are open, the oldsquaws fre- quent the leads and open pools in the fjord ice ; they are most numerous along the shore where the tidal crack opens up the ice, and where the warmer fresh water coming down the slopes and hills melts away the ice foot from the shore. In this along-shore water they apparently find more food, or food more to their liking — generally Crustacea and small fish. From mid-June to the 1st of July the ice on the inland lakes melts away rapidly. Just as soon as the belts of open water show along the banks, the oldsquaws begin to leave the sea and enter the fresh-water lakes. In flight the female always leads, distinguishable by her plumper, dull-colored body and shorter tail ; in swimming the male usually leads. Every lakelet has its pair or two of oldsquaws. Some of the pairs seems to be mated when they arrive in the northland, but many mate after their arrival. In the last two weeks of June the local mating season is at its height. Because the males ai-e the more numerous, the rivalry for the females is very keen, and the fighting con- tinuous. During this time, the lake-dotted plains and valleys in the flats about North Star Bay resound with the clamor and din of mating oldsquaws, and the birds may be seen flying swiftly from pool to pool, from point to point. The Eskimo consider them the swiftest flying birds of the northland. Courtship. — The season of courtship is much prolonged or verj^ variable with this species. This is one of the few ducks that have a sirring molt and nuptial plumage; the time and extent of the molt varies greatly in different individuals; and the flush of sexual ardor is probably contemporary with the change of plumage. Conse- LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 35 queiitly some iiulividr.als molt and mate before they start on the spiino; mioration and others not until after they have reached their breedino- grounds. Many males apparently do not acquire a full nuptial plumage during the whole summer and probably do not mate that season; I have seen nuiles in Alaska in midsummer in practi- cally full winter plumage and in various stages between that and full nuptial plumage; the full development of the latter seems to be rather rare. John G. Millais (1913) writes: As previously stated, tlie actual courtship of the male is generally aroused and brought about by the sexual desire of the female, and amongst ducks tlie females are very irregular as to the time of their coming into season. Thus only one or perhaps two females in a large tlock may be well advanced in their summer plumage and their breeding instincts, and these are the spe- cial objects of desire of all the males. I have noticed a bunch of 8 or 10 females swimming apart and not a male going near them, whilst 10 or 15 males will crowd round some particular female and lavish upon her all their arts of charm. The most common attitude of the male in courtship is to erect the tail, stiffen the neck to its fullest extent, and then lower it toward the female with a sudden bow, the bill being held oiitward and upward. As ti:e head curves down, the call is emitted. Sometimes the head is held out along the water before the female, who herself often adopts this attitude, or makes a " guttering " note of appreciation with head held in close to the liody. Another common attitude of the male is to throw the head right back till it almost touches the scapulars, the bill pointing to tlie heavens. As the bird throws the head forward again the call is emitted. Many males will closely crowd round a female, all going through the same performance. It is not long before a tight starts amongst the males, so that the lady of the tourney is in the midst of a struggling clamorous mass of squabbling knights, each endeavoring to show his qualifications to love by his extravagant gestures or strength. To add to the confusion, any male long-tails in the neighbor- hood are sure to hear the noise and come flying in all haste to take part in the jousts. Even males still in full winter plumage will come and be almost, if not quite, as active as the rest. They advance with all haste, swaying from side to side, their sharp-pointed wings being only arrested when almost above the contest. Then they close the wings in mid-air and dasli into the fray with all tluMr ardour. So impetuous and gallant are males of this species that they will chase each other for long distances, falling often in the sea and sending the spray flying; down they go under the water and emerge almost together on tiie surface to continue tlie chase in mid-air. I have twice seen a male when flying seize another by the nape and bolh come tumbling head over heels into the sea in mad confusion. In Mr. Hersey's notes, made at the mouth of the Yukon, I find the following account of the later courtship, observed on June 19, 1914. which shows that the birds are not all paired when they ar- rive on their breeding grounds. To-day I watched the courtship of a pair of this species. A male and two females were swimming about in a small pond. As the male began calling another female joined the party. The male, however, paid all his attentions to one of the females and did not notice either of the others. As this favored 36 BULLETIlSr 130, UlSTITED STATES NATIOlSrAL MUSEUM bird swam slowly about her admirer followed, his head drawn in close to his shoulders and the bill pointing downward, the tip not more than an inch or two from the surface of the water. When within 6 or 7 feet of the female he would raise his head till it pointed straight upward and give a succession of deep notes not unlike the baying of hounds heard at a distance. . These notes were usually in series of four or five, and with each the head was thrown still farther back. The long tail was carried straight out horizontally as a general thing, or depressed slightly, but at times was elevated to an angle of about 45°. After calling, the bird dropped his head to its former position close to the water. All this time the female kept up a low quacking. After several of these sallies she would face her suitor, extend the neck and head flat upon the water and swim toward him, turning when within a foot or two, and pass him whereupon he turned and the performance began all over again. After about an hour of this the female took flight closely followed by the male, and after circling the pond several times both birds returned to the water. The other two females had retired to the other end of the pond where they had been quietly feeding, but the male now chased both of these birds out of the pond and then returned to the remaining bird. I have several times seen a female flying closely pursued by two males, all three twisting and turning so that it was diflBcult for the eye to follow them, but the female always kept in the lead. Mr. Ekblaw, in his notes, writes : On July 1, 1914, near the little Eskimo village, Umanak, on North Star Bay, I was able to stiidy the mating antics of the oldsquaw at close range. The day was ideally calm, clear, and mild, and the birds were unusually stirred by the " cosmic urge." Just across the steep ridge southeast of the house lies the broad, terraced, flood plain of a creek which now is a mere remnant of a stream unquestionably much larger in the past. The lowest terrace of this plain is one of such imperfect drainage tjjat ponds and swales are nu- merous. About the shallow ponds and wet swales grasses and sedges grow in abundance. The ponds teem with tiny animal life. Here the oldsquaws breed and nest in numbers. It is one of their favorite haunts. I was con- cealed among the rocks of a ledge some 50 yards from a rather large, compara- tively deep pond, where the ice was melted along the edges. In the open water, on the edge of the ice, and along the grass-covered banks, seven pairs of oldsquaws were distributed, and two males were struggling strenuously for an unmated female. The paired birds were swimming contentedly about the pool, busily preening their feathers on the ice, or sleeping cosily on the banks ; the unmated female and the two males were strenuously sweeping the water or chasing over the pond in swift zigzag flight. Whenever one of the males attempted to mate with the female, the other invariably attacked, much to the evident displeasure of the female, who would then take quick wing, noisily protesting, and pursued by both males. Settled in the pool the males fought fiercely, splashing and churning the water. Neither seemed able to vanquish the other, and when I left my hiding place they were stUl struggling. Nesting. — Audubon's (1840) historic account of finding the old- squaw breeding on the southern coast of Labrador is now ancient history, but it is worth quoting as a record of conditions which no longer exist. He writes : In the course of one of my rambles along the borders of a large freshwater lake, near Bras-d'Or, in Labrador, on the 28th of July, 1833, I was delighted by the sight of several young broods of this species of duck, all carefully at- LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 37 tended to by their anxious and watchful mothers. Not a male bird was on the lal^e, which was fully 2 miles from the sea, and I concluded that in this species, as in many others, the males abandon the females after incubation has commenced. I watched their motions a good while, searching at the same time for nests, one of which I was not long in discovering. Although it was quite destitute of anything bearing the appearance of life, it still contained the down which the mother had plucked from herself for the purpose of keeping her eggs warm. It was placed under an alder bush, among rank weeds, not more than 8 or 9 feet from the edge of the water, and was formed of rather coarse grass, with an upper layer of finer weeds, which were neatly arranged, while the down filled the bottom of the cavity, now apparently flattened by the long sitting of the bird. The number of young broods in sight induced me to search for more nests, and in about an hour I discovered six more, in one of which I was delighted to find two rotten eggs. The following extracts from Mr. L. M. Turner's notes will illus- trate the nesting habits of this species in Ungava, where it probably still breeds regularly : To the freshwater ponds, around whose margins high grasses and sedges grow, the oldsquaws resort to build their nests. The nest is composed of grass stalks and weeds to a depth of 2 or 3 inches, in which the first egg is de- posited. This is covered with down plucked from the bird, and to it a greater quantity is added as the number of eggs increases. The eggs, in the clutch, vary from 5 to 17 ; 9 to 13 being the usual number. The distance of the nest from salt water varies greatly, for I have seen a nest, on a small, low island, not more than a yard from the edge of the water, and again I have found one that was moi'e than half a mile, where a large lake on the level of the higher land was connected by a swampy tract with the head of a long and deep but narrow gulch through which a small stream coursed. A few pairs breed on the Pribilof Islands. I saw a pair on the village pond on St. Paul Island, but did not have time to hunt for its nest. Mr. William Palmer (1899) found a nest and nine eggs about 40 feet from this pond on June 12. It was placed on a little hillock on the killing ground. When flushed, about 10 feet off, the bird flew directly to its mate in the pond. Leaving the eggs, I returned soon, to find that she had been back, had covered them completely with down and dry, short grass, and returned to the pond. The main breeding grounds of the oldsquaw, in North America, extend from the mouth of the Yukon all around the coast of northern Alaska and all along the Arctic coast of the continent and the northern islands to Greenland. Throughout the whole of this region it is one of the most abundant ducks. The nests are widely scattered over the tundra, but are more often found near the shores of the small ponds or on little islands in them; the nest is usually well concealed in thick grass or under small bushes, but it is often found in open situations. The female is a close sitter, and when she leaves the nest she covers it so skillfully with the dark sooty brown down, grass, and rubbish that it matches its sur- roundings and is about invisible. It is well that she does so for 38 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM she lias many enemies, wandering natives, roving dogs and foxes, jaegers, gulls, and other nest robbers that are always on the look- out for eggs. Mr. Hersey found a nest near St. ]\Iichael on July 6, 1915, containing six eggs; it was in an open situation in short grass 20 feet from the shore of a small pond, and while going for his camera, only a short distance away, some short-billed and glaucous gulls fonnd the nest and destroyed the eggs. Mr. Ekblaw, in his notes, says : The nests are built in small-cup-lilie liollows, sometimes in tlie grass near tlie pools, but more frequently among the rocks at considerable distances from any water. The sites are selected with a view to concealment. The nest is well lined with mottled brown down from the female's breast. When the eggs are covered with the down in the absence of the bird, or when she is brooding them, the nest is well-nigh impossible of detection. The female is not readily frightened from her nest; when she is driven off she simulates injury and distress to draw away the intruder, in the manner com- mon to so many birds. The foxes take toll of the oldsquaw eggs as of the eggs of all the birds. The down in the oldsquaw's nest is very small; it varies in color from " bister " to " sepia," and has small but conspicuous whitish centers. Eggs. — The oldsquaw is said to lay as many as 17 eggs, but the set usually consists of from 5 to 7. Only one brood is raised in a season. In shape the eggs are ovate, elliptical ovate, elongate ovate, or even cylindrical ovate; they are often more pointed than ducks' eggs usiially are. The surface is smooth, but not very glossy. The color varies from " deep olive buff " to " olive buff '' or from " water green " to " yellowish glaucous." The measurements of 139 eggs, in the United States National Museum collection, average 53 by 37 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 60 b}^ 39, 58 by 40, 48 by 37.5, and 51.5 by 35.5 millimeters. Young. — The period of incubation is said to be about three and a half weeks. It is performed by the female alone, but the male does not wholly desert her, remaining in the nearest pond and encouraging, her with demonstrations of affection. About the time that the young are ready to hatch he flies away and joins others of his kind on the seacoast. As soon as the eggs are hatched and the young are strong enough to walk, the mother leads them over the perilous journey to the nearest water. Mr. Turner watched a mother bird conducting her brood of 13 young for more than half a mile from a swampy tract through a long and deep but narrow gulch, through which a small stream flowed, down to a cove into which it opened. His notes state : The old bird was much disturbed when I came upon her and she pretended to be wounded. She fluttered and waddled about in a frantic manner, but while chasing her I saw the young and could then have easily taken the old LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 39 bird ill my liaiul, as she actually fluttered at my feet, so intent was she to withdraw my attention from her young. I retired, and with peculiar call she gathered the young ones and began her march. I followed them to the salt water where the mother seemed frantic with joy, as she flopped around like a tame duck at the approach of rain. The young were not more than two days old and had awaited until they had sufficient strength to undertake the long journey. They took to the water as though they had beeu accustomed to it for weeks. I must confess that I felt pleased that I did not molest them for I have seldom seen anything that afforded me greater satisfaction than to witness the pleasure evinced by the old bird when she had her young on the bosom of the sea where she felt so secure. There are so many enemies to be contended Avith at this critical period that it is a wonder that any of these ducks ever succeed in raising a brood. It is only by good luck in many cases that the nest is not discovered and robbed ; and only eternal vigilance and a con- stant struggle on the part of the devoted mother serves to protect the little ones from their enemies. In the instance just related several occupied fox dens were within a short distance of the nest, yet the eggs were hatched and the young were conducted away in safety. Ilie following incident is related by Mr. Millais (1913) : I watched a newly hatched brood of long-tailed ducks one day for a long time and noticed that they took very little food for themselves. They caught a few flies, but most of their food was obtained by the mother diving incessantly and bringing up substances from the bottom and placing it before her brood. When she appeared they all kept up a gentle " peeping " sound and kept close together in a bunch, seldom running to catch flies as other young ducks do. After watching these birds for some time I wandered up the river to the Lake of Myvatn to look at a scoter's nest, and on returning witnessed the attack of two Richardson's skuas, a black and a white bellied one, on the same brood of long-tailed duck. The method of attack was exactly the same as I have seen employed by carrion crows in Hyde Park. One skua swooped down and dis- tracted the mother's attention to one side by hovering over the water. The anxious parent opened her bill and gave a series of grating calls. As the marauder came to the level of the water the long-tailed duck with raised crest made a fierce rush of a few yards at it and in this short space of time the second skua swooped down, picked up a nestling, and swallowed it alive, head first. The frantic mother then darted in the other direction when the skua that had first attacked nimbly picked up a duckling and swallowed it whilst mount- ing into the air. These skuas, which are plentiful at Myvatn, must commit con- siderable havoc amongst the very young ducks and doubtless constitute their chief enemies. Mr. Manniche, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in Denmark in 1911, tells me that the glaucous gull is equally mischievous in destroying the young of long-tails and king eiders in East Greenland and probably Buffon's skua is another successful pirate. The young are taught to dive at an early age, but at first they are not veiy successful. Mr. Hersey's notes state that on July 5, 1915, a female and eight i-ecently hatched young Avere "seen on a small l)ond. The female did not fly but swam around the young calling .softly to them. At an apparent signal from the mother all would 40 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM dive, but the young were unable to stay below the surface more than four or five seconds. The parent would then come to the surface and again try to coax them to follow her below. She did not attempt to lead them to the shore." When the young are fully grown and able to fly they all leave the small ponds and sheltered places where they have been living and move off to the shore. This often occurs quite late in the season, for small downy young are often to be found up to the middle of August or later; the hatching date is very variable, as the eggs are so often disturbed and a second or third laying made necessary. The lateness of the fall migration gives a long breeding season and plently of time to make several attempts at raising a brood. Mr. Ekblaw's notes state that : While the females are brooding the eggs the males aud the sterile females fly and swim about the ponds in promiscuous flocks. These sterile females are restless and active, quite different from the mated females during the mating season. In the mating season the female of a pair usually rests quietly on the bank of the pond, apparently heavy with eggs, while her mate swims about near her. The sterile females are noisy and uneasy. These sterile females and the males leave the land and the environs of the shore about the 20th of July and seek the outer skerries and open water. The nesting females take their little ducklings down to the salt water as soon as they can toddle along, and from then until they hie themselves away to the southland they spend all their time along the rocky shores in the pleasant coastal bays and fjords or about the icebergs and floes. Very frequently two mother birds join their flocks, and then, when swimming about in the open sea, one mother leads the flock while the other brings up the rear. The young birds grow fast and quickly develop strength for swimming far and fast. They can dive as well as they can swim. They soon lose their first down and take on a juvenal dark-brown downy covering, into which the feathers gradually come. It is not until they are fully grown, about the last week in August or first week in September, that they are able to fly, and then, fat and plump and strong, they start southward by easy stages, de- veloping wing power as they go. Long before the elders begin leaving, t!ie oldsquaws are gone from the coast, and then winter soon sets in. Plumages. — The downy young oldsquaw is very dark-colored above, very deep, rich " clove brown," becoming almost black on the crown and rump, and paler " clove brown " in a band across thc/ chest. This dark color covers more than half of the head, includ- ing the crown, hind neck, and cheeks; it is relieved, however, by a large spot below the eye and a smaller one above it of whitish, also an indistinct loral spot and postocular streak of the same. The throat is white and the sides of the neck and auricular region are grayish white. The belly is white. Both the dark and the light broAvn areas become duller and grayer with age. The plumage appears first on the under parts: the breast and belly are fully feathered first, then the flanks and scapulars; the plumage covers the back, head and neck before the wings are grown, UFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 41 in September. All this takes place while the old birds are molting their wings and are flightless. Both old and yonng birds are able to fly by October and are then ready to start on their migrations. Mr. Millais (1913) describes the juvenal plumage, as follows: In first plumage, in September, the young male has the crown dark brown ; the back of the neck is grayish-brown till it meets the mantle, which, with the wings, back, and tail, are black, with a dark-gray suffusion. A dark band of grayish-black also crosses the upper part of the chest, and these feathers, as well as the gray and spotted ones on the sides of the chest, are edged with light sandy-brown ; the scapulars blackish-brown, edged with light sandy-brown: flanks gray, tinged with sandy-brown; thighs gray; breast, belly, and vent white. In many specimens only the center tail feathers are black, the rest being brown, edged with white, whilst some have a few sandy edged feathers on the upper tail coverts. Round the eye and lores whitish- gray ; cheeks, throat, and chin brown-gray. In many specimens the secon- daries are brown, and the breast spotted with brownish-gray. In this month the young male is no larger than the female, but by the end of October it has grown to nearly the full size of the adult male. By the end of this month, and during November, new feathers are rapidly coming in, and the immature feathers of the head are being replaced by others resembling those of the adult. From this time on during the winter and spring there is a slow but steady progress toward maturity of plumage by a practically continuous molt. The crown, throat, and neck become gradually whiter, the brownish-black cheek patches develop and brownish- black feathers appear in the chest ; the gray face begins to show, the back becomes blacker and the grayish-white scapulars and flank feathers appear. By the end of March the young male begins to look like the winter adult, but the colors are not so pure or so intense. In April the molt into the first nuptial plumage begins, in which the young bird can be distinguished from the adult by the faded and worn wings, the imperfect and mottled appearance of the breast, and the absence of the long tail feathers. During August and Septem- ber a complete molt occurs, at which the wings and tail are renewed, tlie long tail feathers are acquired and the adult winter plumage is assumed ; by the end of November, at the latest, this plumage is com- plete and the young bird may be said to be adult at seventeen months of age. The seasonal changes of plumage in the adult male oldsquaw are unique, striking, and very interesting; it is one of the few ducks in the world to assume a distinctlj^ nuptial plumage. The molt into this plumage begins in April and in the oldest and most vigorous birds it is completed in May; but in the younger birds and less vigorous individuals, the molt is prolonged into the summer and is often incomplete. Some birds acquire the full nuptial dress (in which the face is "smoky gray," with a white space around and be- hind the eye, the feathers of the upper back and scapulars are broadly 42 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM edged with '' sayal brown" and the rest of the head, neck, breast, back and wings are deep, rich " seal brown," nearly black on the up- per surfaces) before they migrate north in the spring; I have seen birds in the full perfection of this plumage as early as May 10 ; but most birds reach their breeding grounds in various stages of transi- tion, showing more or less white or gray feathers in the dark areas. There is no real eclipse plumage in the oldsquaw, but Mr. Millais (1913) says: During August the male long-tailed duck completely changes the wing, tail, back, and black portion of the mantle and black breast band, these parts being replaced by the new winter plumage. The head, neck, and upper mantle, show- ing worn and faded plumage feathers, remain until shed at the end of Sep- tember. The elongated scapulars are shed and not renewed until late Sep- tember, but in late July a considerable number of new blackish and brown feathers come into the upper scapulars and mix with the old worn summer plumage feathers, whilst a number of new dark-gray feathers, similar to those worn by the scaup, tufted duck, and goldeneye male in eclipse, come unto the flanks and remain until shed again in early October. The reason of this, I take it, is that since Nature abhors sudden changes of color from dark to light, whilst the landscape is still under the warm colors of summer and autumn, the male long-tail only renews those parts of its plumage to the full winter dress which are directly in harmony with its surroundings, adding, however, temporary feathers, as it were, to carry it over the three temperate months wlien it hides in the shadows of banks or rocky inlets. Thus all the dark parts of its plumage are renewed once, and once only, and the light parts which would be noticeable are delayed by a temporary makeshift until such a time as concealment is no longer necessary. • Of the plumage changes of the female he saj^s : In first plumage the immature female closely resembles the young male, ex- cept that the color is somewhat paler. They are also easily recognized by October by the incoming feathers of the respective sexes. In the case of the young female the advance of plumage is somewhat slower than that of the male, and she only obtains a few of the winter dress feathers. In April the greater part of the adult summer plumage is assumed, but there is little or no change on the back, breast, and lower parts, whilst tire wings and tail are not shed at all until the principal molt in July and August. The young female then gradually assumes her winter dress, which is complete in October. She is thus adult at 16 months, and will pair and breed the following summer. Young females may be recognized during their first year by their imperfect and more or less mottled head pattern and by the broad, gray edgings of the upper back and scapulars. Adult females in winter have the feathers of the back, scapidars, and wing coverts broadly edged with '^ tawny " or " cinnamon brown," and the upper chest and flanks are suffused with lighter shades of the same. The partial prenuptial molt occurs in April, leaving the wings worn and faded ; the head becomes largely brownish black, with whitish spaces before and behind the eye, and the upper parts are nearly uniform brownish black. In August and September a complete molt pro- duces the Avinter plumage. LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AIVrERICAN WILD FOWL 43 Food. — Most of the oldsquaw's food is obtained by divin lin.u:ers are numb and blue as they hold the gun barrels. But out on the water, careless of wind or wave, rides a flock of "squaws" making always a merry clatter. Ever and anon some of their number rise against the breeze to dart off at lightning speed, apparently in the mere enjoyment of flight, for, circling a half a mile about, they plump down again among their comrades, all the time noisily calling to each other. We might almost say they are the only song birds among the ducks, for really their notes are very pleasant to hoar and quite musical in comparison with the usual vocal production of the family. Game. — Oldsquaws are not held in much esteem as game birds; their flesh is rank, fishy, and tough; but there are gunners that will eat them. Many are shot, however, every fall by gunners who are out after scoters; later in the season large flocks of oldsquaws fre- quently pass over or along the line of boats anchored in their path. They decoy w6ll to the wooden blocks used for this kind of shooting, and are often quite tame or full of curiosity. They often offer tempt- ing shots, and their flight is so swift and erratic that it recpiires con- siderable skill and practice to hit a single bird: when they are flying before the wind one must hold well ahead of them. They are so 48 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM iough that only a small portion of the birds shot down are killed, and it is almost useless to pursue the wounded ones, as they are more than a match for the gunner in rough water. Winter. — Oldsquaws are common in winter as far north as south- ern Greenland and the Diomede Islands in Bering Straits, where they can find open water among the ice, but they are more abundant below the regions of frozen seas. Even on the New England coast they sometimes encounter ice conditions too severe for them. Mr. Mackay (1892) writes: Although, as their Latin name expresses, they are particularly a cold- weather bird, it is a matter of interest that ducks with such Arctic proclivities should find the effects of the climate so rigorous at times on the New Eng- land coast that they are unable to sustain life and are in consequence obliged to succumb. Yet such is the case. It was during the winter of 1S88, when, standing on the high land of Nantucket Island and looking seaward in any direction, nothing but ice was visible ; for a moutli the harbor was closed and there was sleighing on it. There was no open water in sight except an oc- casional crack in the ice caused by the change of tides ; most of the sea fowl had left this locality during the early stage of the severely cold weather. Many oldsquaws remained, however, until they were incapacitated through lack of food and consequent loss of strength from doing so. As a result it was a common occurrence to find them lying around dead or dying on the shore. Thosre that were alive were so weak they could not fly, and on ex- amination proved to be nothing literally but skin and bone, others apparently bad starved to death. Referring to their habits here, he says : Off the south side of Nantucket Island the oldsquaws collect in countless myriads. On February 19, 1S91, I saw a flock of oldsquaws estimated to contain 2,000 birds off the south shore of Nantucket about 5 miles from the island, and I know of no better place to observe them in numbers. They arrive about the third to the last week in October, according to the weather, and remain until the latter part of November ; most of them then move farther south. The height of their abundance is the first half of November. They congregate on " Old Man's Rip" and on " Miacomet Rip," shoal ground 2 to 3 miles from the south shore of the island, the water there being .3 to 4 fathoms deep. Here they live in security, with an abundance of food, during the day. About 3 o'clock p. m. they commence to leave this place for the Sound (the movement continuing until after dark) where they regularly roost, flying around that part of the island which affords them at the time the greatest shelter from the wind, returning on the following morning to their feeding ground by which ever route is tlie most favorable. An examination of the stomachs of some of those oldsquaws which I shot in the early morning com- ing from the Sound, showed them to be empty. I think occasionally on clear calm nights they remain on their feeding groiands, and do not go into the Sound to roost. They apparently prefer to feed in water not more than 3 to 4 fathoms deep, or shallower, unless compelled in order to obtain food. I have noticed north of Cape Cod during the winter months that some old- squaws will feed and remain just back of the line of breakers on the beaches, and also around the rocks, but generally they are in small and detached groups of but few individuals. LIFE HISTORIES OF XORTH AMEEICA:?^ WILD FOWL 49 Many oldsquaws spend the winter in the Great Lakes and in other large bodies of water in the interior, but it is decidedly a maritime species by preference. For a study of the habits of this species on Lake Michigan in winter, I would refer the reader to an excellent paper on this subject by Edwin D. Hull (1914) based on observa- tions for three seasons at Chicago. I can not afford the space to quote from it as freely as it deserves. Severe winter conditions sometimes drive a few birds as far as the southern borders of the United States. Messrs. Beyer, Allison, and Kopman (1907) record the capture of one in Louisiana on February 13, 1899. " At the time of the capture of this spe^cimen a severe blizzard was sweeping the South. Zero temperatures were reported at points near the Louisiana coast." DISTRIBUTION Breeding range. — Arctic coasts of both hemispheres. On the Lab- rador Peninsula south, in Audubon's time, to the southeastern coast of the peninsula (Bras d'Or), but now probably not much south of northern Labrador (Okak and Nain). Ungava Bay and the lower Ivoksoak River (Fort Chimo) and down the eastern shore of Hud- son Bay, perhaps as far as Cape Jones. On Southampton Island and other lands north of Hudson Bay, and on the west coast of the bay at least as far south as Cape FuUerton and perhaps as far as Churchill. Along the entire Arctic coasts and barren grounds of Canada and Alaska. South on the Alaskan and Siberian coasts of Bering Sea to the Aleutian and Commander Islands and on all the islands in that sea. Along the Arctic coasts and barren grounds of Asia and Europe, south in Scandinavia to about 60° north. On the Faroe Islands, on Iceland, and on both coasts of Greenland. North on practically all Arctic lands as far as they have been ex- plored up to 82^ north. Winter range. — In North America south on the Atlantic coast abundantly to southern New England, commonly to Chesapeake Bay and North Carolina, more rarely to South Carolina, Florida (Brevard and Leon Counties) and occasionally to the Gulf coast of Louisiana; north, when open water is to be found, to the Gulf of St. Lawrence and sometimes southern Greenland. On the Pacific coast south regularly to Washington, less commonly to California, as far south as San Diego : north to the Aleutian Islands, and some- times to the Diomede Islands. In the interior it winters abundantly on the Great Lakes and more rarely or irregularly on other large bodies of water west and south to Nebraska (Omaha), Colorado (Barr Lake) , and Texas (Lake Surprise) . In southern Europe south to about 40° north, on the Black and Caspian Seas; and in Asia, south to Lake Baikal, China, and Japan. 50 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM Spring migration. — Mainly coastwise, but also overland to north- ern coasts. Dates of arrival : New Brunswick, Grand Manan, March 9; Ontario, Ottawa, April 2; Mackenzie, Fort Simpson, May 10; northern Greenland, Etah, May 20; Boothia Felix, latitude 70°, June 12; Winter Harbor, latitude 75°, June 22; Cape Sabine, lati- tude 78°, June 1; Fort Conger, latitude 81°, June 6. Dates of ar- rival in Alaska: Chilcat, March 11; Admiralty Island, April 17; St. Michael, April 1; Cape Prince of Wales, April 22; Kowak River, May 22; Humphrey Point, May 20; Point Barrow, May 15. Late dates of departure: Rhode Island, May 4; Massachusetts, May 22 ; Maine, May 21 ; Gulf of St. Lawrence, May 23 ; Pennsyl- vania, Erie, May 18; Alberta, Fort McMurray, May 15; southern Alaska, May 19. Fall migration. — Reversal of spring routes. Early dates of ar- rival: Great Bear Lake, August 28; Pennsylvania, Erie, September 13; Massachusetts, September 30; New York, Long Island, October 8 (average October 16). Late dates of departure: Northern Green- land, latitude 82°, September 16; Alaska, Point Barrow, December 9, and St. Michael, October 20. Egg dates. — Arctic Canada: Fifty-three records, June 7 to July 18 ; 27 records, June 19 to July 4. Alaska : Sixteen records. May 22 to July 28; eight records, June 16 to July 9. Labrador: Three records, June 16, 17, and 27. HISTRIONICUS HISTRIONICUS HISTRIONICUS (Linnaeus) ATLANTIC HARLEQUIN DUCK HABITS The harlequin duck is a rare bird on the Atlantic coast of North America, where its chief summer home is in Labrador and LTngava. Comparatively little is known about it even there, as very little thorough ornithological work has been done in that largely unex- plored region. But in western North America the species is widely distributed and in some sections of Alaska, notably the Aleutian Islands, it is very abundant. W. Sprague Brooks (1915) has re- cently separated the western bird, as a distinct subspecies, under the name pacificus. As this seems to be a well-marked form with a distinctly separate range, I have compiled a separate life history for it. Except for the descriptions of the eggs and plumages, which are the same for both forms, the following remarks refer nuiinly to the Atlantic form. /Spring. — Mr. Lucien M. Turner's notes state that — They arrive at Fort Chimo by the 25th of May and then frequent the smaller fresh-water ponds and lakes. They retire to the seashore by the 5th of June, or even earlier if the ice has cleared from the beach. The out- LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 51 lying islets are favorite places in the earlier days after their arrival ; but when the water is mostly clear of ice they prefer the rugged shores of the larger islands and shores of the mainland where the reefs and jagged, sunken rocks are to l»e found; these birds are rarely to be seen along shingly beaciies unless tliey may be merely passing from one point to another. He says of their behavior: The males are extremely pugnacious and quickly resent the approach of another male toward tiieir mates. They flop through the water with sur- prising speed toward the intruder with open mouth, uttering a hissing sound, and seize the offender by the body and quickly pluck out a beakful of feathers if tlie pursued Inrd does not dive or tlutter away. Xesting. — Audubon (1840) claims to have found them breeding on ishinds in the l>ay of Fundy; he writes: There they place their nests under the bushes or amid the grass, at tiie distance of 20 to 3U yards from the water. Farther north, in Newfoundland and Labrador, for example, they remove from the sea, and betake themselves to small lakes a mile or so in the interior, ou the margins of which they form their nests beneath the bushes next to the water. The uest is composed of dry plants of various kinds, arranged in a circular manner to the height of 2 or 3 inches, and lined with tiner grasses. The eggs are five or six, rarely more, measure 2-h by lil; inches, and are of a plain greenish-yellow color. After the eggs are laid, the female plucks the down from the lower parts of her body and places it beneath and around them, in tiie same manner as the eider duck and other species of this tribe. Dr. C. Hart Merriam (1883) contributes the following: While in Newfoundland last winter I learned that these birds, which are here called " lords and ladie.s," are common summer residents on the island, breeding along the little-frequented watercourses of the interior. I was also informed, by many different i)eople, that their nests were built in hollow trees, like the v,-ood duck's with us. Mr. James P. Howley, geologist of Newfoundland, has favored me with the following response to a letter ad- dressed to him on this subject: "I I'eeeived your note inquiring about the iiarlequin duck, but dela.yed answering it till the arrival of one of our In- dians. It is quite true the l)irds nest in hollow stumps of trees, usually on islets in the lakes or tarns of the interior. They usually frequent the larger lakes and rivers far from the seacoast, but are also found scattered all over the country." Most of the Qgg^ of the harlequin duck in collections came from Iceland, where the species breeds abundantly and where nuiiiy nests have been found. John G. Millais (1013) gives the following at- tractive ({notation from lieimschneider, illustrating the behavior and nesting habits of tliis species in Iceland: This is the linest of all the species here. Their movements l)oth on land and water are (puck, skillful, and graceful ; they run swiftly on dry land, and their gait reminds one very little of the waddling of other ducks, but in walking the small head with its beautiful beak is stretched rather forward, and the long tail pointing downward, with the proportionately slender body and the peculiar coloring, all give this bird a rather foreign appearance, though certainly not an unlovely one. The plumage of this small duck charmed 52 BULLETIX 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM me particularly when I saw it swimmiDg upstream with unparalleled swift- ness through the frothing foam of the Laxa, winding about through the eddies of the strongest breakers, and making use of the quieter places in the most skillful way. I then always had in mind the other much less commoii Icelandic name Brindufa (breaker dove). I have never seen the harlequin duck make an even temporary stay on the lake, but they always keep to the swiftly flowing rivers of the neighborhood ; e. g., on the Laxa, where I visited a small breeding colony near the Helluvad farm. When I came to this place on June 24 I was several times obliged, in order to r-each the nests, to ride through the water of the river to a series of small heath-ovei'grown rock islands upon which the ducks breed. Here I found, in addition to several nests of the FuUgula marila, four nests of the F. Mstrionica ; it is certain that there were still more nests to be found close to. I put the number of pairs nesting at this place at from 10 to 12. The first nest, standing under a thick clump of heath, had a sort of bank of dry heath around the shallow hollow of the site of the nest. This hoUowed-out basin contained the first half -finished lining of gray down mingled with fine dry grass. In the nest lay five eggs, which I took away, and which proved not to have been sat on at all. This nest had been hitherto untouched by human beings, but not so the others which I saw, and which had already lost some of their eggs. The next nest showed exactly the same construction, and in this the down lining was still altogether wanting. This one contained only two eggs. While the two first nests we have just described were some paces from the edge of the island, the next, unprotected by heath growth, was placed on a smaU piece of rock jutting out over the river. The basin contained a complete lining of gray down mixed with grass, and the loose edge of this was carefully pulled down over three eggs which were in the nest. The duck flew away from the fourth nest which I visited as soon as I was quite close to it, and this one again was placed more in the middle of the island under a clump of heath, and was very plentifully lined with down with an unusually small admixture of parts of pLints ; it contained three eggs. The down in the harlequin duck's nest is " olive brown '' or " drab," with rather large, but not ver}^ conspicuous, whitish centers. Small whitish breast feathers, with a pale brownish central spot and pale brownish tip, are usually found in the down. I'-Jggs. — The harlequin duck lays from 5 to 10 eggs, usually about 6. The shape varies from bluntly ovate to elongate ovate, and some eggs are quite pointed. The shell is smooth and slightly glossy. The color varies from " light buff " or " cream color " to paler tints of the same. The measurements of 90 eggs, in various collections, average 57.5 by 41.5 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 61 by 42.5, 59 by 44, 52 by 39, and 56.2 by 37.5 millimeters. Young. — Incubation is performed entirely by the female, who also assumes full care of the young. Audubon (1840) writes: The male leaves her to perform the arduous but, no doubt to her, pleasant task of batching and rearing the brood, and, joining his idle companions, returns to the seashore, where he molts in July and August. The little ones leave the nest a few hours after they burst the shell, and follow their mother to the water, where she leads them about with the greatest care and anxiety. When about a week old she walks with them to the sea, where they continue,. LIFE HISTORIES OF IS^ORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 53 iu the same manner as the eiders. When discovered in one of these small inland lakes, the mother emits a lisping note of admonition, on which she and the young dive at once, and the latter make for the shores, where they conceal themselves, while the former rises at a good distance, and immediately takinir to wing, leaves the place for awhile. On searching along the shores for the young, we observed that, on being approached, they ran to the water and dived toward the opposite side, continuing their endeavors thus to escape, until so fatigued that we caught four out of six. When at sea, they are as difficult to be caught as the young eiders. Mr. Millais (1913) says that the period of incubation is said to be three and one-half weeks. It is presumed that the young are at first fed by the old bird direct from the bill, as newly hatched young always hold their bills upward to the beak of the foster parent, and will not at first pick up food for themselves. At first the food is principally the larvae of Epliemerae. The down period of the young is said by Faber to be about 40 days. Mr. O. J. Murie has sent me the following interesting notes on the behavior of young harlequin ducks: The harlequins acquire their love for rough water early, for the young are brought up among the rapids of northern rivers. Several broods of these ducklings were foimd on the Swampy Bay River, in northern Ungava. I saw the first family one day when we had paddled across the swift current above a rapid, to hunt for a portage. As we floated into a sheltered eddy near shore, a band of ducklings swam quietly out past our canoe. They appeared singularly unconcerned and unafraid. At first I did not recognize them as harlequins and they all looked the same size to me. But one of the Indians declared one of them was the mother. They swam around the base of a huge bowlder and headed deliberately into the swift water. In astonishment I watched them go bouncing down the rapid, around the bend out of sight. A few days later I witnessed a still better exhibition. We stopped to camp at the head of a rapid which culminated in an abrupt fall of 20 or 30 feet. Here we found some more harlequins. I got two young and the mother be- tween me and the fall and attempted to corner them for a photograph. There was but a narrow lane of comparatively quiet water near shore. As I neared the little group the mother flew upstream, and the little ones spattered up over the water, actually entering the edge of the swift current in order to get by me. Upon repeating the performance several times, I had an oppor- tunity to perceive their wonderful knowledge of currents and their skill in navigating them. Finally, when pressing them close for a near approach, they again entered the swift water. At the same time the mother came flying low and passed downstream. This time the youngsters were evidently caught, for the current carried them out of sight over the falls. With a feeling of remorse I looked below. I had not intended to be the means of their destruc- tion. At first I could distinguish nothing among the ripples and the foam- flecked current below. Then I saw them floating along, rising to shake the water from their down, then quietly preening themselves. Although they had clearly endeavored to avoid the falls, they were none the worse for the accident when it did happen. Plumages. — The doAvny young is " bister " or " Prout's brown •' above, including the top of the head doAvn to the level of the eyes, 54 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM the lores, hind neck, back and rump ; the under parts, inchiding the cheeks np to the eyes, are pure white ; there is a white spot above and in front of the eye and an indistinct whitish streak on each scapular region; the front of the wing is margined with white. The juvenal plumage comes in first on the flanks iind scapulars ; the former are, at first, •' olive brown " with white tips and the latter are " warm sepia." In the juvenal plumage in the fall the young male resembles the adult female, but can bq recognized by the looser texture of the plumage, the worn tail, the gray instead of brown flanks, and by having less white on the breast. J. G. Millais (1913) says: Toward the end of November the young male begins to assume the adult dress rapidly ; the tail and tail coverts are replaced by adult feathers ; a tinge of burnt sienna appears on the long flank feathers ; the wing coverts, the scapu- lars, mantle, and the whole of the adult feathers on head and neck come in, so that by the end of January a young male in my possession is almost like an adult, except for the smaller black and white bars on the sides of the chest, a brown rump and bill, mottled and immature under parts, and immature wings. The change then proceeds very slowly. From specimens In Mr. Schioler's collection it is clear that the male harlequin follows the same course of plumage as the long-taik^^l duck and the goldeneye. A greater or lesser part of the immature under parts are shed between the months of March and June, and the last signs of immaturity in the shape of the wings are not shed until late July or August, when the young male goes into an eclipse similar to the adult male. By September the new wings are obtained and the portions that were assumed as eclipse are being shed, so that it is not until November — that is, at 14 months — that the young male stands in full dress. It will breed in the fol- lowing spring. This does not agree with what specimens I have seen, Avhicli indi- cate that the young male makes but little progress toward maturity during his first year. Among the large flocks of immature males which we saw in the Aleutians in June very few birds showed any- thing approaching the adult plumage, and most of them could hardly be distinguished from females, except at very short range. Most of the specimens seen and collected were in worn immature plumage, dull brown above, with lighter edgings, wholly mottled below, and with varying amounts of the slaty feathers and the white markings of the adult on the head. Perhaps these were especially backward birds, and others, which we took to be adults, were normal or ad- vanced young birds; but the latter were certainly in a very small minority. The young female requires about the same time to reach maturity — about 16 months. Mr. Millais (1913) says: There seems to be less difference between the young and adult female harle- quin than almost any of the diving ducks. Yet the immature female, prior to February, wlien the new tail is assumed, can always be recognized by the worn LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 55 ends and lig-hter colors of the tail and under parts. The under parts are not nearly so broadly speckled as the adult, and there is a greater area of white. The flanks are grayer, and have a sandy tinge. Also the white spaces about the eye are always more heavily edged with slaty-brown. I should add to this that in the young female the head is usually duller brown and the feathers of the back show more light edgings. Of the eclipse plumage Mr. Millais (1913) says: The whole plumage of the adult male in eclipse is a uniform dark slate gray, the head and neck being somewhat darker, as w^ell as the rump, under and upper tail coverts, which are almost black ; the single white ear covert spot is retained, and the white space in front of the eye is dull white, both these parts being edged with black ; long scapulars, lower heck, upper and lower flanks, sooty brown; about the end of August the wings and tail are shed (as usual only once). Like all the diving ducks, the male harlequin is practically in a state of molt from July 1 until it reaches the full winter plumage early in October. Food. — Most of the harlequin duck's food is obtained by diving, but much of it is picked up along the shores or about the rocky ledges. On the inland streams where it breeds it consists largely of water insects and their larvae, among which the caddis fly is prominent; it also includes fish spawn, small fishes, small frogs, tad- poles, small fresh-water crustaceans and mollusks, and some aquatic plants. On the seacoast it feeds on similar kinds of marine animal life which it picks up on the kelp-covered rocks at low tide or obtains by diving in the surf along the shore or over the ledges; it ap- parently does not often dive for its food in deep water. The com- mon black mussel {Mytelus edulis) is one of its main food supplies; these mollusks grow in immense beds on shallow ledges and are easily obtained; occasionally a large mussel has been known to trap the duck and cause its death by drowning. Small crustaceans, such as sand fleas and small gasteropods, are also picked up. R. P. Whitfield (1894) gives the following account of the con- tents of a bird's stomach, taken on Long Island: In December, 1893, Mr. William Dutcher brought to me the stomach contents of a harlequin duck (Histrionujuff histrionicus) shot at Montauk Point, Long Island, about the 3d of the month. An examination of the material showed what an industrious collector the bird must have been, for it had in its crop remains of no less than three individuals of the small mud crab of our coast, Panopeus depresna Smitli, one carapace being almost entire; besides remains of some other forms of Crustaceans. Of the little shell Coliimhella lunata (Astyris lunata of the Fish Commission Reports), then' were no less than 39 individuals represented, besides several small Littorinas. This shell is seldom more than one-sixth of an inch long, and is usually quite rare on our shores. It could only have been obtainetl in such numbers by a sort of sifting of the bottom mud of the bays by the duck, and indicates how carefully the process had been carried on in order to obtain .so small an article of food. 100449—25 5 56 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM Behawior. — Mr. Millais (1913) describes the flight of this species as follows: The beautiful markings of tlie male of this species are only noticeable when the observer is close at hand, so that they are not the easiest duck to identify except when in flight. The flight, at first somewhat laborious, is very rapid. The short, pointed wings are beaten swiftly, and the bird constantly swings from side to side, even more frequently than the long-tailed duck. The eleva- tion is moderately high, performed at an altitude similar to the goldeneye, but when passing up or down stream it zigzags and turns, to accommodate its line to every bend of the stream, however slight. The harlequin never thinks of cutting off corners, and it would seem that it imagines its life depends on keeping exactly over the water, however much it bends or twists. I have seen harlequins fly religiously above a bend in a stream that formed almost a complete circle in its coui'se, and yet the birds did not cut across it to shorten their route. I have watched harlequin ducks in flight many times and have shot quite a few of them, but I never noticed any swinging from side to side, as referred to above, and several writers have re- ferred to their flight as straight. They usually fly close to the water and often in such compact flocks that a large number may be killed at a single shot. They also swim in close formation, some- times with their bodies almost touching. Walter H. Kich (1907) says: If a shot is fired at a flock on the wing tliey will sometimes plunge from the air into the water and after swimming below the surface again take wing, coming up a hundred yards away — seeming, the instant they reappear, to dash from the depths into the air at full speed, leaving the gunner inexperienced in their ways, and who perhaps had tliought that by some miraculous chance he had killed the entire flock, to find tliat he doesn't care for that kind of duck after all. I passed through just such an experience once, and remember yet how disgusted and surprised I was when after steaming up to where the whole flock should have been dead — no duck — and what may have been their ghosts rising from their watery graves 60 yards away. Harlequin ducks are fond of feeding in rough water along rocky shores or in the surf, just ofl* the beaches, where they ride the waves lightly and dive through the breakers easily and skillfully. They dive so quickly that they often escape at the flash of a gun. In diving the wings are usually half opened as if they intended to use the wings in flight under water, which they probably do. The peculiar whistling note of this duck has been likened to the cry of a mouse, whence it has been called the " sea-mouse " on the coast of Maine. Mr. Bretherton (1806) describes it as "a shrill Avhistle descending in cadence from a high to a lower note, conunenc- ing with two long notes and running ofl^ in a long trill." Mr. Mil- lais (1913) writes: When first arriving at the breeding grounds in flocks in early May they are very restless, constantly flying to and fro, whilst the females utter their UFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 57 usual call of " Ek-ek-ek-ek," to which the mules respond with a low or hoarse "//?i"ior " Heh-heh." These calls they also frequently make in winter, and I have heard sinj^Ie females uttering their cry constantly when flying, as if they had lost their companions and were seeking them. When they are paired botli sexes utter a different note, " Gi-ak," and this note is used at all times when the pair meet, until the males leave the females at the end of June. Mr. Aretas A. Saunders writes me: I lieard these birds call several times. The call note is usually uttered when en the wing. It sounded to me like " oij-oii-oij-oii " rapidly repeated, usually seven or eight times. I never heard the note from any hut the males, and it was usually uttered when in pursuit of one of the females. Winter. — The winter home of the harlequin duck is on the sea- coast. On the Atlantic coast they are not common south of Maine and not abundant even there. They 'are often seen about the rocky bays of the eastern Provinces in winter, but more often they fre- quent the outlying rocky islands and ledges. In spite of the brilliant coloring of the males they are surprisingly inconspicuous among the kelp-covered rocks and the wet, shiny seaweeds of varied hues. On the Atlantic coast they are widely known as " lords and ladies," and by the French inhabitants of Qtiebec they are called " canards des roches " or " rock ducks." They usually flock by themselves in small flocks, but are frequently associated with oldsqiuiws. ' DISTRIBUTION Breeding range. — Iceland, southern Greenland (north on the east coast to Scoresb}' Sound and on the west coast to Upernavik), the Labrador Peninsula (Nain, Lance au Loup, Fort Chimo, etc.), and Newfoundland (Hawks Bay, etc.). Birds said to breed in the Ural Mountains 'and the Yaroslav Government may be of this subspecies, but the breeding birds of eastern Siberia are probably referable to pacificus. Winter range. — The Atlantic coast of North America, south regu- larly to the Bay of Fundy and the coast of Maine, more rarely to Long Island Sound and c'asually farther south. Resident in Ice- land. Spring migration. — Atlantic coast l)irds retire northward in Feb- ruary and some reach Greenland in March, Arrive at Fort Chimo. Ungava, May 25. Seen in the Gulf of St. Lawrence as late as :May 29. Fall migration. — Early dates of arrival : Maine, October 19 ; Massa- chusetts, November 1 ; Rhode Island, November 28. Casiml records. — Rare or casual on Lake Ontario (Toronto. Oc- tober 20, 1894, and December 4, 1920). Accidental as far south as South Carolina (Mount Pleasant, January 14-16, 1918) and Florida 58 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM (Pensacola, M'arch 20, 1886) . Rare or casual in Scandinavia, Russia, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and Great Britain. Egg dates. — Iceland : Twenty-three records. May 20 to July 9 ; twelve records, June 6 to 30. Labrador: Two records, June 3 and 10. Greenland : One record, June 24. HISTRIONICUS HISTRIONICUS PACIFICUS Brooks ' PACIFIC HARLEQUIN DUCK i HABITS I had always supposed that the harlequin duck was a compara- tively rare and somewhat solitary species until I visited the Aleutian Islands in the summer of 1911; here we found this subspecies to be one of the commonest and most widely distributed of the ducks ; we saw them in large or small flocks about all of the islands wherever they could find the rocky shores that they love to frequent. I saw more harlequin ducks here in one day than I have ever seen elsewhere in m}'^ whole life. Most of the birds were in large flocks, some of them in immense flocks, but they were also frequently seen in pairs, feeding about the kelp-covered rocks at low tide, among which they were surprisingly inconspicuous and were easily approached. Even the large flocks were not wild or shy, and we had no difficulty in shooting all we wanted. The large flocks were made up almost wholly of females and immature males, but they were usually led by two or three adult males. The presence of mated pairs and some small flocks of adult males led us to suppose that they were breeding there, perhaps back in the interior in the roclry canyons of the moun- tain streams, but we found no signs of nests around the shores. Similar gatherings of harlequin ducks are found all summer about the Pribilof Islands and all along the southern coasts of Alaska and British Columbia, as far south as Puget Sound. Nearly all, if not all, of these birds are probably immature birds which are not yet ready to breed, or unmated or barren birds, mainly the former. Some may be birds which have bred early, have lost their broods or their mates, and have returned to join their fellows in these summer- flocking resorts, which are practically the same as the winter resorts. The migrations of this species do not amount to much more than a brief withdrawal into the interior during the nesting season. Courtshij).—T\\Q. best account that I have seen of the courtship of this species is by B. J. Bretherton (189G), as follows: The writer has often watched the males in spring, calling, and the actions of these birds may justly be said to resemble the crowing of a rooster. In giving forth their call the head is thrown far back with the bill pointed directly up- ward and widely open ; then with a jerk the head is thrown forward and down- ward as the cry is uttered, and at the same time the wings are slightly ex- panded and drooped. Afterwards they will rise in the water and flap their wings. LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 59 Charles AV. Michael (1922). who has had exceptional opportunities to stiid}^ the behavior of harlequin ducks at short range, describes another courtship performance, as follows: When the birds appeared in front of camp on tlie morning of April 12 tlioy were acting strangely. Apparently they were making love. They were bobbing and bowing to one another, swirling around, touching their bills together, and uttering little chatty sounds. One of the moves on the female's part was to slowly submerge her body until just her head and neck appeared above the surface of the water — a bold invitation on her part for attention. In spite of the wanton actions of the female, the love-making failed to reach the climax. Nesthui. — I have never found the nest of the harlequin duck, and I infer that few others have succeeded in doing so in North America, for surprisingly little is to be found in print about the nesting habits of this species. None of the Avell-loiown Alaskan explorers speak of finding nests, except Turner (188C), who says: The nest and eggs were not procured, and the only nest I ever saw was near Iliuliuk village, on Unalaska Island. Two immense blocks of rock had become detached from the cliff above, and when they fell their edges formed a hollow place beneath. In under this I discovered a deserted nest, which the native who was with me asserted was that of a bird of this species. The form was similar to that of the nest of C. hpemalis-. and in fact so closely resembled it that I persisted in it being of this bird until the native asked me if I did not know that the oldsquaw did not build in such places. Major Bendire wrote to Dr. D. G. Elliot (1898) : The harlequin duck undoubtedly nests both in our mountain ranges in the interior — Rockies and Sierra Nevadas — as well as on many of the treeless islands of the Alaskan Peninsula and the Kurile Islands, and I have not the least doubt that it breeds both in hollow trees, where such are available, and either on the ground or in holes made by puffins where it can find such, not far from water. Dr. E. AV. Nelson (1887) writes of the breeding haunts of this species : Among the host of waterfowl which flock to tlie distant breeding grounds of Ahiska ill spring, this elegantly marked bird is the most graceful and hand- somely coloi-ed. As if conscious of its beauty, the harlequin duck leaves the commonplace haunts sought by the crowd of less noble fowls, and along the courses of the clear mountain streams, flowing in a series of rapids into the larger rivers, they consort with the water ouzel, Swainson's thrush, and such other shy spirits as delight in the wildest nooks, even in the remote wilderness of the far north. Dark lichen-covered rocks, affording temporary shelter to the broad-flnned northern grayling or the richly colored salmon trout as they dart from rapid to rapid, steep l)anks overhung by willows and alders, with an occasional spruce, forming a black silhouette against the sky, and a stillness broken only by the voices of the wind and water, unite to render the sununer home of these birds, along the Yukon, spots devoted to nature alone, whose solitude is rarely broken, and then only by the soft footsteps of the savage in pursuit of game. 60 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM Mr. D. E. Brown has sent me the following note : On May 7, 1924, a fisherman flushed a female western harlequin duck from a set of seven eggs. This nest was near Port Angeles, Clallam County, Wash- ington, and was on a rocky point of a swift running mountain stream. Eggs. — Eggs of the Pacific harlequin duck are scarce in collections, and I have no measurements available for comparison, but they prob- ably do not differ essentially in color, shape, or size from those of the Atlantic bird. Plumages. — The sequence of molts and plumages of this western subspecies are apparently the same as those of its eastern relative. Behavior. — Aretas A. Saunders writes me from Montana that : While fishing they sit in midstream, facing the current, often where it is swiftest, paddling just enough to keep themselves stationary. Whenever they see a fish, they dive' for it, and usually appear again, a considerable distance downstream with the fish. They dive down into the middle of swift rapids, in places where one would expect them to be dashed in pieces against the rocks, yet they always emerge again, unharmed. Whenever the birds go downstream they usually swim down, and from what I have observed, do this largely under water. As soon as they come to the surface they generally turn and face the current. I have never seen them swim upstream, even where the water is not swift, and believe that when they wish to go upstream they nearly al- ways rise and fly. One afternoon I watched a male bird fishing at the edge of a large pool where the water was not swift. He took up a position to watch at the edge of the pool, standing with his feet and under parts in the water but his head and breast out. From this position he dove after fish whenever he saw them, but I could not make out that he was always successful in catch- ing the fish. Mr. Michael (1922) says: Harlequins are expert smmmers and divers. They dive and swim under water with all the ease of a grebe, besides possessing the ability of the water ouzel to walk about on the river bed against the swift currents. When feeding, so far as we were able to observe, they show no preference as to depth of water. W^hen working upstream along the shore they wade in the shallow water, pry- ing among the stones. Where the water is deeper they tip up in the manner of mallard ducks, and where the water is still deeper they dive. They dive in water a foot deep and they dive in water 6 feet deep, always going down where there is a gravelly bottom. Most often they stay under water not more than 15 seconds. Often they stay down 20 seconds, and occasionally they remain under the water as long as 25 seconds. To leave the surface of the water they use their wiry tails as a spring to make the plunge and as they go down both wings and feet are used as a medium of propulsion. When once on the gravelly bottom the wings are closed, the head is held low, and the progress is made against the current, as they walk along poking amongst the stones. When coming to the surface they float up like bubbles, without movement of wings or feet. Their bills break the water and their bodies pop suddenly onto the surface where they rest a moment. While poising on the surface between plunges their bodies float high. When earnestly feeding, seldom more than 10 seconds elapse between plunges. The birds seldom dive simultaneously. The female usually acts first. LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL 61 At times the harlequins choose the swiftest riffles, and when feeding there their method is the same as when in the less joyous waters. They apparently dive from any position with equal ease, but always as they go down they turn upstream, and even in the swiftest currents they come up in about the same spot at which they went down. When feeding in these racing waters they merely hesitate on the surface, and four or five dives are made in rapid succession. Such work as this is strenuous, but the birds are quite at home in the swiftest currents, and when tired from their exertions they swing into an eddy behind some snag or bowlder and rest as they bob about on the surface. M. P. Skinner writes to me that they have been observed coasting down on the Yellowstone River almost to the brink of the Lower Falls, 308 feet high, and then, when it seemed as if they would surely go over, the}' would fly upstream again and repeat the performance. Game. — As a game bird the harlequin duck is of little importance. It is a comparatively rare bird, or entirely unknown, in most of the regions frequented by gunners; and even where it is fairly com- mon its haunts are rather inaccessible. Moreover, it lives so largely on animal food that its flesh is not particidarly palatable. Among the natives of the Aleutian Islands and other parts of Alaska, however, large numbers are killed for food. Mr. Bretherton (1896) describes the method of hunting employed by the natives of Kodiak Island, as follows : When first the writer went to Kodiak he tried hunting with a ))oat, relying on wing shooting to get his birds, but without much success ; and seeing that the natives always got more birds, he changed his plan and took to the natives' method, as follows : When a baud of ducks was seen feeding, a landing was made and the beach approached from the land, the hunter being careful not to be seen. By watching the flock it would be seen that they all dived about the same time, and the time they remained down was about the same length each time. When the last duck dives, the hunter runs toward them, dropping in the grass or behind a rock about the time he calculates the first duck should be coming up again. In this manner he can approach close to the flock, that uefarly always feed in the shallow water along the shore. When the last run is made, the hunter, if an old luind, stands on the edge of the water, the gun at " ready," and a couple of extra shells in the hollow of his right hand, the flock all being down. The first duck that comes up gets it, and the second one gets the second barrel, and in this way, by sharp practice, it is often possible to bag six or seven out of one flock. DISTRIBUTION Breeding range. — Western North America and northeastern Asia. East in northwestern Canada probably to the Mackenzie Valley and Great Slave Lake, but nowhere else east of the Rocky Mountain region. South in the Rocky Mountain region to Montana (Glacier National Park, Chief Mountain Lake, etc.), Wyoming (Shoshone River), and Colorado (Bltie River near Breckenridge) . West to 62 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM central California (west slope of Sierra Nevada Mountains) and Washington (Cascade and Selkirk Mountains) and the mountain regions of British Columbia, and Alaska (Sitka region, Sanakh Island, etc.). Westward throughout the Aleutian, Commander, and Kurile Islands. Probably on St. Matthew and St. Lawrence Islands. West in Siberia to Lake Baikal and the Lena Eiver and east to Kamchatka and northeastern Siberia (Providence Bay, Marcova, etc.). North in summer and probably breeding to the Arctic coasts of Alaska (Barter Island) and Canada (Mackenzie Bay). Winter range. — Mainly on the seacoasts, but also on inland waters, not far from the southern parts of its breeding range. Winters sparingly in its Rocky Mountain breeding range; other interior records are regarded as casuals. On the Pacific coast south to cen- tral California (Monterey Bay) and north to the Aleutian and Pribilof Islands. On the Asiatic side from the Commander Islands south to Japan. SpHng migration. — First arrivals reached Fort Simpson, Macken- zie, on May 25, 1904. Usually arrives at the mouth of the Yukon, Alaska, about June 1. A late date for Pierce County, Washington is June 5, 1915. Fall Tnigration. — Early dates of arrival: Washington, Kitsap County, September 10; California, San Louis Obispo County, Octo- ber 8. Casual records. — Rare or accidental in the interior as far south as Nebraska (Omaha, September 16, 1893 and 19, 1895) and Missouri (St. Louis, October 29, and Montgomery County, March 21, 1897). Egg dates. — ^Alaska: Four records, June 13 to July 1. Macken- zie Bay: One record, June 20. Montana: One record, June 10. Washington: One record, May 7. CAMPTORHYNCHUS LABRADORIUS (Gmelin) LABRADOR DUCK HABITS What little there is known about the life history of this extinct species has already been published and repeatedly quoted by various writers. Probably nothing more of importance will ever be learned about its former abundance or its habits. It is doubtful if any more specimens will ever be brought to light. Therefore, in writing this obituary notice, it is necessary only to compile what has already been written in order to make its life history as nearly complete as possible. Nesting. — It is supposed to have bred, formerly, from the south coast of Labrador northward, but there is very little positive evi- dence on which to substantiate even this indefinite statement and LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN" WILD FOWL 63 much less evidence on which to elaborate it. We might infer from what Cones (1861) says that the Labrador duck bred farther north and passed through Labrador on its migrations; he says: I was informed tiiat tliouich it was rarely seen in summer, it is not an un- common bird in Labrador during the fall. William Dutcher (1894) undertook to obtain some further infor- mation regarding the occurrence of the species in Greenland, through Mr. Langdon Gibson, who accompanied the Peary expedi- tion to that region in 1891, acting as ornithologist of the party. Al- though Mr. Gibson made numerous inquiries and showed pictures of the bird to various people along the coast, he could find no evi- dence to indicate that the Labrador duck had ever been seen there. A portion of his report is worth quoting in full : In August, 1892 (the latter part, I believe), on our way home we touched at Godthaab, the largest town in Greenland. Here we were entertained by Herr Anderson, the Danish inspector of South Greenland, an accomplished naturalist, and at his house I had the pleasure of inspecting one of the finest collections of Arctic birds I had ever seen. I showed him my little pamphlet on the Labrador duck, and also presented it to him on my departure. He told me that his collection represented 20 years' work, and all the hunters in Soiith Greenland (some 500 men) had instructions to bring to him any strange birds that they might get. In this way he has added to his collection from time to time many rare birds and eggs. In all this time he claims to have heard nothing of the Labrador duck, which I consider is substantial l)roof that within the last 20 years the Labrador duck has not visited Green- land. From Godthaab we came directly home to Philadelphia, and this ended my ineffectual attempts at learning something more definite regarding this species. Audubon (1840) did not see a living specimen of this duck in Labrador, where it was supposed to be breeding commonly. It hardly seems likely that he could have overlooked it, if it had been there. Therefore, his brief account of its breeding habits must ])e considered unsatisfactory and unreliable. He says: Although no birds of this species occurred to me when I was in Labra