322 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS 



comforts of the situation, and also for a slight temporary- 

 restraint of the spirit of bloodthirstiness. From far and 

 near along the flats resounds a running - refrain of blended 

 voices. Then, at shortly-recurring intervals, the whole 

 host join, for a few seconds, in one united chorus from 

 thousands of throats- — the wigeon, in fowling parlance, are 

 "all in charm" ; and this is followed by a few seconds of 

 comparative silence. 



Most kinds of wildfowl are distinguishable at night 

 by their notes : there is the low soliloquy of the mallard- 

 drake, and the far noisier quacking of his wife ; the 

 strange half-" purr," half-growl of the wigeon-ducks, the 

 long-drawn "whee-you" of the drakes: even the gentle 

 splashing of their bills as they dabble in. the ooze is dis- 

 tinctly audible. All these and many others are well known 

 ■ — as familiar to the fowler as the bo'sun's pipe to a sailor. 

 Then there is an almost infinite variety of notes — sharp, 

 shrill whistles, low piping calls, and undulated growls, 

 which he knows proceeds from the various wading- 

 birds ; but to allocate each of these precisely, requires 

 more attention than the average fowler cares to bestow on 

 these, to him, unimportant birds. Presently there rings out 

 a long-drawn, reverberating bark, and that, too, he knows 

 well ; it is the call of the female sheld-duck — she, like the 

 mallard, being far more vociferous than her consort. Some- 

 times she winds up with half-a-dozen distinct quacks, but the 

 note of the drake is quite different- — -the peculiar sibilant 

 noise, half-squeak, half-whistle, before alluded to, usually 

 quite low and gentle, but at times sharp and ringing. It is 

 curious that the beak of the sheld-duck is tightly closed 

 while the note is being uttered : the bird sometimes appears 

 to be busy feeding at the very moment. Wigeon-drakes, on 

 the other hand, open their beaks wide before commencing 



