NOTES 263 



Glen for example, where the current was rapid and the bottom stony 

 and clean. Once only have I heard it make any vocal effort. 

 About six, possibly a family party, were running and playing 

 together over the alga-covered, rocky bed of a small stream, which 

 had shrunk to a mere trickle of water. All the time they were 

 uttering subdued squeaks, feeble sounds compared with the shrill 

 squeal of the Common Shrew. — John Ro^kktson, Glasgow. 



Late Occurrence of the Fieldfare in S.W. Scotland. — 



A Fieldfare was shot by one of the keepers at Cairnsmore, Palnure, 

 on the loth June, and sent to me to identify. — M. Bedford, 

 Woburn. 



Subaquatic Movements of the Dipper.— Opportunities of 

 observing the Dipper to full advantage, as it moves on the bed of a 

 stream, are of rare occurrence. Such an occasion recently presented 

 itself on the River Garry in Perthshire. For one standing on the 

 wooden bridge and looking upstream, the crystal-clear water is 

 spread out in- a succession of rippling fiats, dotted here and there 

 with isolated boulders and many smaller, partly submerged stones. 

 Here, every morning, one or two Dippers were to be seen. One in 

 particular would flit through the arches and take up its position on 

 a little promontory of shingle directly beneath the bridge. Soon it 

 would indulge in little gambols and evolutions, walking far into the 

 shallow water with its head submerged, until its dark back alone 

 could be seen above the surface. Then, with a quick little run, the 

 back would go under altogether, and the dusky shadow would then 

 be seen continuing its course under water for a yard or so, 

 reappearing unobtrusively on the opposite bank of pebbles and 

 nodding its head. Certainly it appeared to run on the bed of the 

 stream when completely submerged, exactly as it did when the water 

 was too shallow altogether to conceal it. It appeared to be carried 

 on by its own impetus, and at this point no extension of the wings^ 

 beyond a slight upward flip, could be observed. A little later it 

 would flit to a large stone, a few yards away, when it would enter a 

 little pool, bending to wash itself with ruffled feathers as a thrush 

 might, ever and again giving odd little runs in the water, turning 

 abruptly to right or left, as a duckling does when searching for flies, 

 sometimes above water and sometimes below. At the end of each 

 whimsical little gambol it would always turn up most sedately upon 

 some adjacent stone, as though rather ashamed of its escapade. 

 These evolutions were seen only in the early morning. Once, when 

 startled by a noisy passenger crossing the bridge, the bird flew to 

 the side of the river, and, under the shadow of the trees, remained 



