Jan., 1918 A RETURN TO THE DAKOTA LAKE REGION As we walked along the pass where the Louis Hill hunting lodge was, we came to the Big Ditch that had been cut through when one of the lakes was too low, and which now holds a stream some twenty feet across. The southern lake presented a beautiful evening picture with its quiet white water reflect- ing the sunset sky framed by its wide green border of tule and cane. A con- fusion of startled ducks rose before us from their safe cover, and Black- crowned Night Herons reluctantly relinquished their nightly hunting grounds. From the north side of the pass a long rocky point projected out into the water, on which ducks and gulls were fond of assembling. It could be seen from the house, and one morning late in August I was called to the kitchen window to see a flock of White Pelicans that had taken possession of the rocks. Hur- rying down to Stony Point I looked across the lake at them. Between fifty and sixty were there, standing lined up, too close to count, at my distance. Some stood tall with necks raised, others sat low, making an irregular line of white pickets. About forty rose first, soon followed bY the rest, when they flew heav- ily south, their bills slightly tilted up, the black tips of their wings making a handsome pattern. The leader of one of the flocks kept command through all the shifting movements. As they flew south I followed eagerly, expecting to have a good chance to study them from the pass? but by the time I got there they were already out of sight. Later in the morning when I was crossing the open wheat fields I discoy. ered a dim line high in the sky, that through the glass proved to be some thirty of the great birds moving slowly toward the south lake of the chain. Once they strung out in orderly single file so that it was easy to count them. Then, as if they could not agree on the next move, the point of advance became con- fused, and before a decision could be reached they were mulling about within a circle like a swarm of insects. When they went on the slowness of their state- ly flight was accentuated by the swift flight of a flock of ducks crossing the sky below them. The next morning when I got to Stony Point only eight Pelicans were on the rocks across the lake. Two stood on higher rocks than the others and looked as if their wings were wide open at their sides. As I watched, seven of them rose, a flock of white Gulls and a flock of dark Ducks ?lying at the same time, perhaps disturbed by the movements of these Giant Fowles! As they went they again shifted to the single file that makes such an effective figure across the sky. The one Pelican left behind must have been slightly winged for while he seemed'to try his wings, he did not rise, but swam about, back and forth over the water as if expressing his restlessness at being left behind by his comrades. He would swim rapidly over quite a circuit, then apparently stop to fish, then climb up on a rock, and after a few moments drop back into the water and start on his restless round again. Poor creature--too handsome, too striking a mark across the water! But who could be wanton enough to make a target of such a bird ? The next morning my wounded Pelican was still on the point of rocks when I went down, but hardly had I seated myself inconspicuously back to a tree prepared for an interesting hour with him when--there he was on wide, black-tipped wings up in the sky'! I gazed at him in astonishment. Two days rest had put him on his wings again ! Possibly he did not go far, but hunt as I might, I could never find him again, and could only hope that he was able to rejoin his white brothers in their majestic flights through the sky.
