8o THE ADVENT OF SUMMER 



wood of willow and decayed or decaying birch, a pine 

 showing here and there between. Presently I spied, 

 from between my turrets of snow, a marsh-tit silently 

 searching for food on a willow ; I changred one of mv 

 cartridges for dust-shot, put my feet into my snow-shoes, 

 sallied forth, and shot it. His mate soon began to call, 

 and in half a minute I secured her also, and returned to 

 my cachet. 



An hour passed by ; now and then I heard the distant 

 " orae, orao^" of the oreese, or the wild cry of some far-off 

 sw^an, but nothing came within range of less than cannon- 

 shot of me. Fourteen large glaucous gulls slowly flew 

 up the Petchora ; I watched a pair of swans on the ice 

 through my telescope, and listened to the distant call of 

 some smaller gulls ; whilst redpolls and white wagtails 

 often passed over me, all flying up wind. At length I 

 o-ot tired of waiting and watching, and made an excursion 

 on my snow-shoes into the wood. All around was dead 

 silence ; nothing was to be heard but the gentle rattling 

 of the east wind amongst the leafless branches of the 

 willows. The wood seemed as empty of bird-life as the 

 desert of Sahara. 



I returned to my cachet, and waited and watched 

 with no better result than before. A flock of snow- 

 buntings came fluttering up the Petchora and alighted 

 on some willow-trees ; this was interesting. I now made 

 an excursion to the cachet of my companions. I had 

 forootten to wind my watch, and made this an excuse for 

 my visit. Halfway to it, I came upon a small flock of 

 reed-buntings amongst some willows, and missed a shot 

 at one of them. My companion had stuck heroically to 

 his cachet, but had had no better luck than mine. As 

 we were chatting, we heard the note of a bird, which I 

 took to be a redstart. 



