SUMMER ON THE MOORS 93 



Border lochs. Paston, lying in a cleft of bracken-clad 

 hills, sheltered and entirely surrounded by woods (pine 

 and hardwood), is a charming - spot to a bird-lover. Its 

 winding gulfs and bays, fringed far out with aquatic 

 plants, sedge, and bulrush, form ideal homes for water- 

 fowl with which its surface was dotted. Besides mallards 

 and tufted ducks, were herons, coots, and waterhens ; 

 while innumerable cushats everywhere caught one's eye. 



On approaching, we detected a pair of shovelers 

 sheltering from boisterous waves in a reed-fringed inlet. 

 By aid of the wind, we crept in near enough to distinguish, 

 not only the yellow eye of the drake, but also the fact 

 that already (at the end of June) he was losing his full 

 glory of feather; brown "half-moons" impairing the 

 snowy purity of his breast, while the full burnished 

 gloss of the head was waning. 



But a more interesting incident followed. In a 

 creek beyond, hard by the outer edge of floating lilies, 

 swam and dived three birds that, for a time, completely 

 puzzled me. One was a coot ; but its two companions 

 were grebes, none of which (save the dabchick) breed 

 here. But that fact dwindled into insignificance by 

 comparison with the state of plumage of these two 

 particular grebes, for they can best be described as exact 

 counterparts, both in size and plumage, of the Slavonian 

 grebes {Podiciftes auritus) that I have so often shot on the 

 coast in winter. To-day, however, it was not winter, but 

 midsummer! 



Behind a screen of trees and sedge, I crept within 20 

 yards of the trio, and watched them for an hour, in 

 mingled interest, doubt, and perplexity. The entire 

 upper parts (crown, back of neck, and body) of both 

 grebes were plain dusky-black ; but the cheeks, throat, 



