SUMMER ON THE MOORS 89 



heath, and cotton-grass flourish. In such spots are 

 often interspersed oozy peat-hags, some of which may 

 develop into pools of peat-black water, large enough, it 

 may be, to attain the title of "lough." 



Very welcome nevertheless, and despite its lack of 

 contrasting hues, is this vivid, new-born verdancy of 

 June — a charming change from those dull and lifeless 

 colours which have characterised the highlands during 

 all the period we call spring. 



Lower down on the hillsides, the golden bloom of 

 gorse is at its best by June, to be followed a little later 

 by broom and hawthorn. The ash-trees, always a fort- 

 night behind, are barely in full leafage till the middle of the 

 month ; the rest are already perfect' — the spruce especially 

 beautiful, with its thousand golden tips to each dark-green 

 frond, as though from a storm of golden snow. 



Pochard. — Towards the end of May, we had ob- 

 served — always a living joy to a naturalist — a species 

 of bird new to us. On a small hill-loch on the Scottish 

 side (Primside loch, near Yetholm, in Roxburghshire) 

 were a number of ducks, some of which the binocular 

 showed to be pochard. It is noteworthy that, before 

 that day (1887), during near twenty years' wildfowling, 

 afloat and ashore, I had never met with this species in 

 the north. Presently, my brothers and I crept within 

 50 yards of four (three drakes) resting on a low fore- 

 shore backed by tall flags, the whole reflected in the 

 still water beneath — a pretty picture. There were quite 

 a dozen pochards on the loch (mostly drakes) and an 

 even larger number of tufted ducks. 



Ten days later, in June, the pochard-drakes alone 

 were visible, circling high overhead with their charac- 

 teristic croaking note. Their mates, with those of the 



