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 Jan., 1919 A RETURN TO THE DAKOTA LAKE REGION 9 fore them; and when the drakes joined them, they all swam around in prosaic unemotional fashion. One of the ducks, however, had been singled out and ap- parently won, for she was certainly .being championed most vigorously. But, as if she were a prime favorite whose suitors could not give her up, her lord, whom I dubbed Lord of the Fray, went about with the proprietory airs of one whose possessions are disputed. When other drakes were near, he swam close beside her, getting her rapidly out of the way, and when perhaps a rejected suitor swam in toward her, chased him back with a decided air of "This is my mate, I'd have you know !" When matters were comparatively quiet, the Lord of the Fray having properly disciplined all the drakes on the west side of the Bridge, from the east side, swimming in under the Bridge, came a fourth drake, and with the appearance of an ardent suitor, swam straight.toward the much disputed lady. At this the enfuriated Lord of the Fray bristled up, put his head down and swam at the interloper so hard he had to dive, ignominiously. When he finally came up he hung around for a while, but was so persistently snubbed that he soon swam back to his own side of the Coulee. It was alto- gether a most amusing comedy, but after all, why should we laugh when the unconscious players were merely puppets in Nature's hands as she worked out the great law of monogamy? While the Ruddies were engaged in their jousting, though a Shoveller flew down with his chuck-ah, a Marsh Hawk beat over the rules, and a Crow passed nagged by a Redwing, nobody paid any attention; the pre-occupied Ducks ig- noring them as completely as they did the ecstatic outbursts of the Sora from the high grass beneath the Bridge. This was on July 1. On July 3, although there was such a strong east wind that the large lake on the east of the road was angry with white-capped rollers, two Ruddy drakes were swimming along the Coulee. So peaceable were they, I could but conclude that courtship rival- ries were over and their brown mates were inside the marsh, happily engaged in nest making. When a Shoveller and a Blue-winged Teal swam up the Coulee close to one of the Ruddies, he never turned a feather. The Law of the Family had been established. A Ruddy drake that I saw on July 6 swam out from under the Bridge, back ruffed' up and tail down as if ready for the fray; but as no one came, he put up his tail, did chin exercises and clucked to himself, or --perhaps a brown dame was within hearing inside the canes. Soon after this I started on my visits to other lakes, but late in August, I revisited the Bridge. With a strong west wind there was little to be seen on the sparkling water of the Coulee, but a sudden rapturous burst of song came from a'Sora, probably the very one that had answered me by mistake earlier in the summer. The Yellow Warbler and Song Sparrow piped up as in June, but the cane bordering the Coulee had grown much higher, and brown topping plumes waved in the wind. A flock of Blue-wings flew rapidly by, and a soli- tary Shoveller, perhaps from a belated nest, lit on the water. At a sudden plunk at the end of the Bridge below me, I peered down discovering the head of a swhnming muskrat. Its none was well up out of the water, and I could see its hairy back and long ratty tail as it swam. But just then it dived under the Bridge, and was seen no more. As I listened, a new sound was heard--the thud, thud, thud of a threshing machine in a wheat field beyond. Belching out straw, it was rapidly building up a high straw stack. Sheaves still .standing, bundles being loaded onto some of the vagons, and carried up to the machine by others, made a busy scene. A