12 WILD DUCK. 
noticed, seemed delighted; this continued till some other 
Ducks were procured, when, being constantly driven out ot 
the house, it gradually associated itself with its more natural 
companions.’ 
The following occurs in the ‘Naturalist,’ vol. iv, page 43, 
from the pen of John Dixon, Hsq., of Leeds:—‘A nest of 
this shy bird was found by a lad amongst a clump of sedge 
near the Eccup reservoir; he took the eggs home, and out 
of curiosity they were set under a Domestic Duck, and in 
process of time all hatched. The young brood seemed to 
take very kindly to their foster-parent, and grew remarkably 
tame, which lasted until they were well fledged, when their 
natural wildness appeared to be slowly returning. The company 
of their domestic congeners was now too tame for them, and 
they generally kept to themselves, paying frequent visits to 
the not-far-distant reservoir, but always returning to the 
farm-yard; a sudden noise, or the presence of dogs, etc., 
would start them up, and away they would go again for the 
still waters. This continued until one day a gun was dis- 
charged very near them, when one and all took to their 
wings and never afterwards returned. JI believe that many 
attempts have been made to restrain the natural wildness of 
this beautiful bird, but I can hear of no instance where 
the experiment has been perfectly successful in reconciling it 
to domestic life. While writing this, the recollection of 
another curious circumstance comes fresh to my memory. 
During a visit to some friends at Wiston, many years ago, 
I was often amused with the eccentricities of an old Goose, 
who had seemingly forsaken his own kindred, and formed a 
friendly alliance with a flock of Ducks, in the midst of 
which he was always to be found, either afloat or ashore, 
indeed any approach to his own tribe generally met with a 
rebuff; but he was of a peaceable turn, and not the Goose 
to pick up a questionable quarrel, so these insults were never 
retaliated but by a hiss. On inquiry into this strange 
friendship, I was given to understand that the venerable 
Goose had been hatched under a Duck, whose motherly 
kindness he still evidently cherishes, in the fact of his 
sticking to the family group ever after, in the midst, of 
which he probably still maintains a conspicuous place.’ 
The Wild Duck, like so many other birds, evinces great 
anxiety for her young if approached by any hostile, or 
suppesed-to-be-hostile, intruder, scurrying and flapping along 
