where the bird would come up. After a full minute, we began to cool a little, and such conjectures were made, as that he was wounded and had dove to the bottom of the ocean and was clinging to the kelp. But presently, fully 300 yards' away, ahead of us, peacefully rested our bird, apparently none the worse for being shot at, but with his eye on us. We, of course, pulled for him, but he was aware of our intentions by this time, and dove before we were anywhere within range. This time we rowed far ahead of where he went down thinking to meet him when he rose, but he must have been able to see the boat on the surface of the water, for he appeared far to our right. We went for him again, going to the spot where he disappeared and thinking that he might be getting winded. After waiting an unusually long time we happened to look back of us in the dark reflection of the Island, and there he was far away on the waves. He had doubled back diving right under us. We went cautiously toward him, getting rather close, but still too far for a shot before he disappeared. This time we thought it better policy to stay right where we were, hoping that he might try to double back on us again, and sure enough, in about half a minute he came up to our left, not thirty feet away, and two charges of No. 8 met him squarely, and we had bagged, or rather, carefully stowed in the collecting basket, our first Rhinoceros Auklet. We spent the rest of the day chasing Auklets, each time with about the same experience, but nearly always, if we stuck to it, finally getting our bird. We worked harder that day, than either of us had before for many months, as blistered hands testified, but I felt well paid, as the result was ten fine specimens of the Rhinoceros Auklet, besides a couple of Am. Eared Grebes and a Pacific Loon.
The manner and pose of the Rhinoceros Auklet, resting or swimming on the water are quite different from those of any other sea bird met with around Catalina. It is short and chunky with head drawn in close to the body, leaving scarcely any tract that might be called a neck. The water line comes up to about the lower edge of the wings when closed against the body, so that the bird does not rest lightly on the water like a Gull or Phalarope. The head is held on the same line as the body directly out in front, so that the top of the head and back are on the same level. The whole bird at a little distance looks most like a block of wood floating on the water. We did not once see one flying. They all preferred to dive. One which was shot at and probably slightly wounded, attempted to take flight but failed to get clear of the water, and after dragging along the surface for several feet, instantly dove. The great ease and rapidity which is shown in diving and traveling under water is remarkable. When we showed a specimen to the boatman, he said that it was called a "fool-hen," because it would not get out of the way, but generally allowed a boat to run right over it. However I think the term "fool-hen" appropriate, for they certainly fooled us many times. We heard no note and there was never but one in sight at a time. They were mostly seen about a quarter of a mile from shore. The food consisted entirely of a small yellow crustacean, which filled their gullets. We saw none of these anywhere near the surface of the water, so they must have been caught by diving to a considerable depth. The water where the Auklets were feeding was from thirty to one hundred fathoms in depth. The Rhinoceros Auklet is probably a regular common winter visitant along our coast.
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Mr. A. P. Redington writes from Santa Barbara: "While descending the road over the San Marcos Pass here recently, we came upon a Condor who allowed us to approach within fifty yards or so before taking wing. I opposed any attempt to secure the bird, thinking that the possibility of an egg in the future might be of more value than the skin. We can almost guarantee at least the sight of this species in a day's trip down the Santa Ynez range."
