NOTES ON THE BIRDS OF lOXA. 213 



— borne along upon the breeze between the rollings of the surf, the effect 

 is musical, wild, and startling. You look around in vain to discover whence 

 the mysterious strains proceed. ^^Ah!" you exclaim, "sometimes the fishermen 

 take their bagpipes out with them to cheer their toil while rowing; but no, 

 no boat could live among those terrible breakers, and nothing is in sight all 

 round the murky horizon; surely then I am listening to a band of Tritons 

 and Naiads, whose music thus mingles with the splashing of the waves, to 

 which the intermissive roar of the surf forms a fitting bass!" The united 

 cry of a large flock sounds very like bagpipes at a distance, but the cry of 

 a single bird when heard very near is certainly not so agreeable. On the 

 occasion I just mentioned, I took great pains to learn the note; and the 

 following words are the nearest approach that can be given of it in writing: 

 it articulates them very distinctly, though in a musical, bugle-like tone: — 

 Our, 0, u, ah! our, o, u, ah! Sometimes the note seems to break down in 

 the middle, and the bird gets no further than our, or ower, which it runs 

 over several times, but then, as with an effort, the whole cry is completed, 

 loud and clear, and repeated several times, as if in triumph. At this time 

 they were busily feeding, diving in very deep water on a sandy bottom, and 

 calling to one another when they rose to the surface. 



I never saw these Ducks come very near the shore; perhaps this is partly 

 owing to the bay which they frequent having shores which they could not 

 approach easily, as there is usually a heavy surf breaking upon them. I 

 have frequently watched them at night, to see if they would come into any 

 of the creeks, but they never did; on the contrary, after dusk they would 

 often leave the bay; the whole of them would fly off simultaneously in the 

 direction of the mainland of Mull, as if they were bound for some well-known 

 feeding-ground. I have often seen them actively feeding in the day-time, 

 though more generally they are floating about at rest or diverting themselves. 

 They are of a very lively and restless disposition, continually rising on the 

 wing, flying round and round in circles, chasing one another, squattering 

 along the surface, half-flying, half-swimming, accompanying all these gambols 

 with their curious cries. "\A''hen the storms are at their loudest, and the 

 waves running mountains high, then their glee seems to reach its highest pitch, 

 and they appear thoroughly to enjoy the confusion. When watching them 

 on one of these occasions, I had to take shelter under a rock from a dreadful 

 blast accompanied by very heavy snow, which in a moment blotted out the 

 ■whole landscape; everything was enveloped in a shroud of mist and driving 

 sleet; but from the midst of the intense gloom there arose the triumphant 

 song of these wild creatures, rising above the uproar of the elements; and 

 when the mist lifted, I beheld the whole flock careering about the bay as 

 if mad with delight. When feeding over some sea-weed-covered bank, the 

 whole party disappear, and rise again together. I have examined the contents 

 of their stomachs, but found nothing but half-digested sea-weed and great 

 quantities of shell-sand, and pieces of coralline. 



