The Golden-eye Ducks manifest a propensity to adhere to a place which they find productive, and that to a most extraordinary degree. One day, while approaching the shallow fording-place of Canoe Creek, near Henderson, in Kentucky, I observed five Whistlers fishing and swimming about. They allowed me to advance to within a few yards of the shore, when, swimming close together, and shaking their necks, they emitted their rough croaking notes. Not being desirous of shooting them, I slapped my hands smartly together, when in an instant they all went down, but suddenly rose again, and running as it were over the water for about ten yards, took flight, passed and repassed several times over the ford, and alighted on the large branches of a sycamore that hung over the creek, at no greater distance from where I stood than about twenty yards. This was the first time in my life that I had seen Golden-eyes alight on a tree. I waded to the opposite side, and gazed upon them with amazement for several minutes. When on the eve of pursuing my course, one of them, gliding downwards with nearly closed wings, launched upon the water, and at once dived. The other four followed one after another, somewhat in the manner of Pigeons or Starlings, as if to ascertain whether some danger might not still exist. I left them at their avocations, and soon after met a family of country people going to Henderson, one of whom asked me respecting the depth of the ford, to which I replied that the water was low, and added that they should be careful lest some ducks that I had left there might frighten the horses on which the women were. The good folks, with whom I was acquainted, laughed, and we parted. About four o’clock, as I was returning, with a fine Turkey-cock slung to my back, I met the same party, who told me that, “sure enough,” the ducks were at the ford, and I was likely to have “a good crack at them.” There they were when I went up, and I forced them to fly off; but as I was proceeding, and not more than fifty yards beyond the creek, I heard their splashings as they again alighted. In the course of a fortnight I visited the place several times, but never missed finding these five ducks there. This led me to inquire as to the cause, and, having undressed, I waded out barefooted, and examined the bottom, which I found to be composed of rather hard blue clay, full of holes bored by cray-fish. But to make myself quite sure that these creatures formed the attraction to the Ducks, I watched an opportunity, and shot two of the latter, the examination of which satisfied me on the subject. I had long before this been convinced, that an abundant supply of food afforded a powerful attraction to migrating birds, and on this subject you may remember my remarks in the articles of the Wild Turkey and Passenger Pigeon, in the first volume of this work; but I had not then, nor have I since, seen so strong an instance of pertinacity in attachment to a particular spot.