They were
heading southward and flew not in very orderly array, but ever
changing, occasionally forming the triangle after the manner of
Geese. They differ from Geese in flapping more slowly, from White
Cranes in flapping faster, and seemed to vibrate only the tips of
the wings. This was on the 23d. Next day we saw another flock of
seven; I suppose that in each case it was the old one and young of
the year.
As they flew they uttered three different notes: a deep horn-like
"too" or "coo," a higher pitched "coo," and a warble-like
"tootle-tootle," or sometimes simply "tee-tee." Maybe the last did
not come from the Swans, but no other birds were near; I suppose
that these three styles of notes came from male, female, and young.
Next morning 7 flocks of Swans flew overhead toward the south-west.
They totalled 46; 12 were the most in one flock. In this large flock
I saw a quarrel No. 2 turned back and struck No. 3, his long neck
bent and curled like a snake, both dropped downward several feet
then 3, 4 and 5 left that flock. I suspect they were of another
family.
But, later, as we entered the river mouth we had a thrilling glimpse
of Swan life. Flock after flock came in view as we rounded the rush
beds; 12 flocks in all we saw, none had less than 5 in it, nearly
100 Swans in sight, at once, and all rose together with a mighty
flapping of strong, white wings, and the chorus of the insignificant
"too-too-tees" sailed farther southward, probably to make the great
Swan tryst on Hay River.
