s I waded cautiously among the bogs, trying to locate the sound, I
came suddenly upon the loon's nest--just the bare top of a bog, where
the mother bird had pulled up the grass and hollowed the earth enough
to keep the eggs from rolling out. They were there on the bare ground,
two very large olive eggs with dark blotches. I left them undisturbed
and went on to investigate the crying, which had stopped a moment as I
approached the nest.

Presently it began again behind me, faint at first, then louder and
more eager, till I traced it back to Hukweem's household. But there
was nothing here to account for it, only two innocent-looking eggs on
top of a bog. I bent over to examine them more closely. There, on the
sides, were two holes, and out of the holes projected the points of
two tiny bills. Inside were two little loons, crying at the top of
their lungs, "Let me out! O let me out! It's hot in here. Let me
out--_Oooo-eee! pip-pip-pip_!"

But I left the work of release to the mother bird, thinking she knew
more about it. Next day I went back to the place, and, after much
watching, saw two little loons stealing in and out among the bogs,
exulting in their freedom, but silent as two shadows. The mother bird
was off on the lake, fishing for their dinner.

Hukweem's fishing is always an interesting thing to watch.
Unfortunately he is so shy that one seldom gets a good opportunity.
Once I found his favorite fishing ground, and came every day to watch
him from a thicket on the shore. It was of little use to go in a
canoe. At my approach he would sink deeper and deeper in the water, as
if taking in ballast. How he does this is a mystery; for his body is
much lighter than its bulk of water. Dead or alive, it floats like a
cork; yet without any perceptible motion, by an effort of will
apparently, he sinks it out of sight. You are approaching in your
canoe, and he moves off slowly, swinging his head from side to side so
as to look at you first with one eye, then with the other. Your canoe
is swift; he sees that you are gaining, that you are already too near.
He swings on the water, and sits watching you steadily. Suddenly he
begins to sink, deeper and deeper, till his back is just awash. Go a
little nearer, and now his body disappears; only his neck and head
remain above water. Raise your hand, or make any quick motion, and he
is gone altogether. He dives like a flash, swims deep and far, and
when he comes to the surface will be w