Once I
found a flock of five in great distress, frozen into the thin ice
while sleeping, no doubt, with heads tucked under their wings. At
another time I found a single bird floundering about with a big lump
of ice and mud attached to his tail. He had probably found the
insects plentiful in some bit of soft mud at low tide, and stayed
there too long with the thermometer at zero.
Night is their feeding time; on the seacoast they fly in to the
feeding grounds just at dusk. Fog bewilders them, and no bird likes to
fly in rain, because it makes the feathers heavy; so on foggy or rainy
afternoons they come in early, or not at all. The favorite feeding
ground is a salt marsh, with springs and creeks of brackish water.
Seeds, roots, tender grasses, and snails and insects in the mud left
by the low tide are their usual winter food. When these grow scarce
they betake themselves to the mussel beds with the coots; their flesh
in consequence becomes strong and fishy.
When the first birds come in to the feeding grounds before dark, they
do it with the greatest caution, examining not only the little pond or
creek, but the whole neighborhood before lighting. The birds that
follow trust to the inspection of these first comers, and generally
fly straight in. For this reason it is well for one who attempts to
see them at this time to have live decoys and, if possible, to have
his blind built several days in advance, in order that the birds which
may have been feeding in the place shall see no unusual object when
they come in.
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