Northern Observations of Inland Birds 171 



just for the fun of being alive, when even the chickadees 

 in the pine grove had sought the shehered nooks, and as 

 I vi^atched him he tumbled head over heels from the 

 boulder and into the stream, to reappear tv^o yards away, 

 mount another rock, and there sing again. Sunshine or 

 storm, snow, hail, or gale, who has ever seen a dipper 

 otherwise than falling over itself for the joy of being 

 alive ? Other birds may droop their wings and fall 

 silent, but the dipper sings on, as though hunger were 

 unknown to him, and mortal foes played no part in his 

 existence. 



Yet the dipper has as many foes as any other bird, though 

 owing to its aquatic habits it is well able to evade them. 

 I once saw a peregrine stoop at a blackcock near to the 

 River Lyon. A dipper happened to be passing at the 

 moment, and as the peregrine stooped, the dipper, though 

 really in no danger, dropped like a stone into the water, 

 nor did I see him again. I have no doubt that he rose 

 eventually under the willows that overhung the stream at 

 one side near to that point. 



Herein, possibly, lies the reason why dippers, travelling 

 from point to point, always fly directly over the water, 

 following every turn of the stream. They are essentially 

 water birds, and the stream affords them the shelter 

 that other birds find in the nooks and the thickets. I 

 have seen old dippers, accompanying their heedless 

 chicks, work themselves into a great state of agitation on 

 the passing of a bird of prey, and one could not help 

 thinking that the show was necessary for the sake of 

 teaching the chicks the meaning of fear, rather than 

 because they were in danger. Young dippers, just able 

 to fly are very fearless. When fishing I have had them 

 come quite near to me, pursuing their affairs in the most 

 unembarrassed manner a yard or two away, and one 

 could not help regretting that such goodwill towards 



