280 JiUITISII BIRDS. [vol. vi. 



Swifts linger longer round the tower of the eld church here 

 than elsewhere around. For some of these years I might 

 have secured later dates, l)ut I am sometimes from home. 

 1 left foi Germany on Septeml)er 2nd, 1912, and saw 

 Swifts in the air as I A\ent to the raih\ay station. 



WiLLIABI SeRLE. 



GLOSSY IBIS IN ESSEX. 



Referring to the Glossy Ibis recorded in Country Life 

 (Oct. 26th,) as having been killed at Balsham, reference to 

 which is made in the last number of British Birds (supra, 

 p. 256), this bird came into my hands for preservation on 

 October 15th, 1912. It was, I believe, shot in the vdllage of 

 Balsham. One version given me was to the effect that the 

 man who shot it saw it coming, fetched his gun out of the 

 house, or called to his A\ife to bring it, and fired at the bird 

 as it was flying over the house. Another version was that 

 it was shot wliilst feeding with some fowls. I am inclined 

 to place more credit on the former version, as I had it — if 

 not first hand — at least second hand. W. Farren. 



THE SONG OF THE SWANS. 



I AM glad that the Rev. F. C. R. Jourdain, in his article in 

 the last number on " Bird-Life in Iceland," mentioned the 

 beautiful little song of the male Whooper Swan, for I heard 

 a similar song for the first time tAvelve years ago, and 

 wrote to more than one publication concerning it, the Field 

 among them : but all treated my remarks with contempt, 

 as apparently a re\'ival of the myth of the d\'ing swan ; so 

 much so, that I decided to keep it to myself until some other 

 observer noticed the same tiling. 



The song I heard a\ as performed by Bewick's Swan {Cygnus 

 b. bewickii) wliich A\as by far the more plentiful species on 

 the particular island in the Inner Hebrides where I made 

 the observation, although a few Whoopers were there also. 

 Many a whole night have I spent on the shores of the " haimted 

 loch " listening to this weird but beautiful song. The song 

 is hard to describe, but most nearly resembles the voices of 

 many women humming a somewhat mournful tune softl}^ to 

 themselves. Situated as I was, right in the midst of the 

 herd of swans, the song sounded most weird, and was inter- 

 spersed M-ith sobs and sighs of such a heartrending nature, 

 that one no longer wondered why the loch was shmined as 

 haunted by the islanders after dark. The song of Bewick's 

 Swan consists of the full octave, and both ascends and descends 



