If ever so slightly wounded, the Loon prefers diving to flying off, and all your endeavours to kill it are almost sure to prove unavailing, You may shoot at it under such circumstances, but you will lose both your time and your ammunition. Its keenness of sight defies the best percussion-locked gun, for it is generally deep in the water before the shot reaches the spot where it has been. When fatigued with diving in the ordinary manner, it will sink backwards, like a Grebe or a Frog, make for some concealed spot among the rushes, and there lie until your eyes ache with searching, and your stomach admonishes you of the propriety of retiring.

Loons are now and then caught in fishermen’s nets, and are soon drowned. I have also caught them with hooks fastened to lines laid across the Ohio, but on no such occasion have I taken the bird alive. A method of shooting these birds, which I have often practised, and which was several times successfully employed by our Labrador party, may here be related. On seeing a Loon on the water, at whatever distance, the sportsman immediately places himself under the nearest cover on the shore, and remains there as carefully concealed as possible. A few minutes are allowed to pass, to give the wary and sharp-sighted bird all due confidence; during which time the gun, charged with large shot, is laid in a convenient position. The gunner then takes his cap or pocket-handkerchief, which if brightly coloured is so much the better, and raising it in one hand, waves it three or four times, and then suddenly conceals it. The bird commonly detects the signal at once, and, probably imagining the object thus exhibited to be one of its own species, gradually advances, emitting its love-notes, which resemble a coarse laugh, as it proceeds. The sportsman imitates these notes, making them loud and yet somewhat mellow, waving his cap or kerchief at the same time, and this he continues to do at intervals. The Loon, in order to arrive more quickly, dives, perhaps rises within fifty yards of him, and calling less loudly, advances with considerable caution. He shews the signal less frequently, imitates the notes of the bird more faintly, and carefully keeps himself concealed, until the Loon, having approached within twenty or even ten paces, dives and on emerging raises itself up to shake its wings, when off goes the shot, and the deluded bird floats dead on the water. Many species of Ducks are procured in nearly the same manner. The male Turkey, in the gobbling season, and the Stag in autumn, may also be drawn within shot by the same means. I once “tolled” two Loons with my hat from a distance of nearly half a mile, and although they were at one time so near to me that I could clearly perceive the colour of their eyes, I had no sure opportunity of firing at them, as it was in the pairing season, and they never once dived, or raised their wings to flap them, so that, knowing the extreme agility with which they disappear when they have seen a gun snap, I judged it useless to shoot. Until my visit to Labrador I had supposed, agreeably to the common belief, that the Loons always repose at night on the water, which, however, I have since assured myself they rarely if ever do.

Colonel Montagu, than whom none has written more correctly on the habits of the birds of Great Britain, having procured a wounded Loon, placed it in a pond, and observed the manner in which it made its way under the surface of the water. “In swimming and diving,” he remarks, “only the legs are used and not the wings, as in the Guillemot and Auk tribes, and by their position so far behind, and their little deviation from the line of the body, the bird is enabled to propel itself in the water with great velocity, in a straight line, as well as turn with astonishing quickness.” This I have no doubt was the case with the individual observed; but that this is not the usual mode of proceeding of the species is equally true. Having myself seen Loons pass and repass under boats, at the distance of several feet from the surface, and propel themselves both with their feet, and their half-extended wings, I am inclined to believe that when not wounded, and when pursuing their prey, they usually employ all the limbs.

My friend Thomas Nuttall, who kept one for some time, gives the following account of its manners while in his possession. “A young bird of this kind which I obtained in the Salt Marsh at Chelsea Beach, and transferred to a fish-pond, made a good deal of plaint, and would sometimes wander out of his more natural element, and hide and bask in the grass. On these occasions he lay very still until nearly approached, and then slid into the pond and uttered his usual plaint. When out at a distance he made the same cautious efforts to hide, and would commonly defend himself in great anger, by darting at the intruder, and striking powerfully with his dagger-like bill. This bird, with a pink-coloured iris-like albinos, appeared to suffer from the glare of broad day-light, and was inclined to hide from its effects, but became very active towards the dusk of the evening. The pupil of the eye in this individual, like that of nocturnal animals, appeared indeed dilatable; and the one in question often put down his head and eyes into the water to observe the situation of his prey. This bird was a most expert and indefatigable diver, and remained down sometimes for several minutes, often swimming under water, and as it were flying with the velocity of an arrow in the air. Though at length inclining to become docile, and shewing no alarm when visited, it constantly betrayed its wandering habits, and every night was found to have waddled to some hiding place, where it seemed to prefer hunger to the loss of liberty, and never could be restrained from exercising its instinct to move onwards to some secure or more suitable asylum.”

The same valued friend has corroborated the result of my observations respecting the number of eggs usually laid by this species, by stating as follows: “About the 11th of June, through the kindness of Dr J. W. Harris, I received three eggs, which had been taken from the nest of a Loon, made in a hummock, or elevated grassy hillock, at Sebago Pond, in New Hampshire.”

The range of this species is immense. It occurs on the waters that fall into the Pacific Ocean, and has been observed on the Columbia River. In the Fur Countries it is plentiful; and, as I have already stated, it breeds in many parts of the United States. It is found equally in Europe, and the northern parts of Asia. In all these countries it moves southward on the approach of winter, and returns when the mild weather commences in spring.

Unlike the Cormorant, the Loon usually swallows its food under the water, unless when it happens to bring up a shell-fish or a crustaceous animal, which it munches for a while before it swallows it. Fishes of numerous kinds, aquatic insects, water-lizards, frogs, and leeches, have been found by me in its stomach, in which there is also generally much coarse gravel, and sometimes the roots of fresh-water plants.

Although the flesh of the Loon is not very palatable, being tough, rank, and dark coloured, I have seen it much relished by many lovers of good-living, especially at Boston, where it was not unfrequently served almost raw at the table of the house where I boarded.

A female bird particularly examined by me presented the following appearances. From the point of the bill to the end of the tail it measured 34 inches; to the claws 41; the extended wings were 71; the bill measured 5 inches along the gape; the breadth of the body was 8 inches, its depth only four; the wings were 2 inches shorter than the tail; and the weight was 10 lb. 11 oz. avoirdupois. The first primary was longest. The trachea, which was even and flattened, being in diameter about 5/8 of an inch by 1/2 inch, was 16 inches long. The eggs were numerous. The gizzard was moderate, and contained many large pebbles. The intestines were 7 feet long, and about the same size as a Swan’s quill. Every bone and sinew was strong and tough. The tongue resembled in shape and size that of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker. The bones of the wing and leg were almost solid, the cavity for the marrow being very small. All the bones of this specimen were presented to Mr Thomas Allis, of the Friend’s Retreat, near York.

My friend Captain James Clark Ross, of the Royal Navy of England, once placed at my disposal a specimen of the Loon procured in a very high latitude, and which, having closely inspected it, I found to differ from the one represented in the plate, only in having the point of the bill slightly elevated or recurved, and of a fine yellow tint. Dr Richardson informed me that, on one of his arduous northern journeys, he saw a very large and handsomely crested Diver, which, although somewhat prematurely, I propose honouring with the name of Colymbus Richardsoni.