In the fall the loon (_Colymbus glacialis_) came, as usual, to moult and
bathe in the pond, making the woods ring with his wild laughter before I
had risen. At rumor of his arrival all the Milldam sportsmen are on the
alert, in gigs and on foot, two by two and three by three, with patent
rifles and conical balls and spyglasses. They come rustling through the
woods like autumn leaves, at least ten men to one loon. Some station
themselves on this side of the pond, some on that, for the poor bird
cannot be omnipresent; if he dive here he must come up there. But now
the kind October wind rises, rustling the leaves and rippling the
surface of the water, so that no loon can be heard or seen, though his
foes sweep the pond with spyglasses, and make the woods resound with
their discharges. The waves generally rise and dash angrily, taking
sides with all waterfowl, and our sportsmen must beat a retreat to town
and shop and unfinished jobs. But they were too often successful. When I
went to get a pail of water early in the morning I frequently saw this
stately bird sailing out of my cove within a few rods. If I endeavored
to overtake him in a boat, in order to see how he would manoeuvre, he
would dive and be completely lost, so that I did not discover him again
sometimes till the latter part of the day. But I was more than a match
for him on the surface. He commonly went off in a rain.

As I was paddling along the north shore one very calm October afternoon,
for such days especially they settle on to the lakes, like the milkweed
down, having looked in vain over the pond for a loon, suddenly one,
sailing out from the shore toward the middle a few rods in front of me,
set up his wild laugh and betrayed himself. I pursued with a paddle and
he dived, but when he came up I was nearer than before. He dived again,
but I miscalculated the direction he would take, and we were fifty rods
apart when he came to the surface this time, for I had helped to widen
the interval; and again he laughed long and loud, and with more reason
than before.

[Illustration: WATCHING FOR THE LOON]

He manoeuvred so cunningly that I could not get within half a dozen
rods of him. Each time, when he came to the surface, turning his head
this way and that, he coolly surveyed the water and the land, and
apparently chose his course so that he might come up where there was the
widest expanse of water, and at the greatest distance from the boat. It
was surprisin