THE BROADS. 31 
connected with one another by marshy tracts of waste land, and found, 
instead, green fields running right up to the edge. We had an interesting 
day, nevertheless. As we sculled in from the river, we put up a wild Duck, 
disembarked, and walked straight up to the nest, and then, drifting out on to 
the glassy waters of the Broad, found ourselves before long intent on watching 
the motions of a pair of Great Crested Grebes, resplendent in all the glories 
of the breeding plumage. They at least came up to my expectations, and we 
sat and watched them for nearly an hour. They did not seem wild, ‘but 
remained persistently about eighty yards off, diving at once if we attempted to 
get nearer, but regarding us rather as intruders than as dangerous enemies to 
be escaped. I have no doubt now that they were nesting; but in those days I 
hardly knew a Grebe’s nest from a Moorhen’s, and the casual search in which 
we indulged was based on totally wrong principles to begin with. Later in 
the day we moved on to Salhouse, and, forcing our skiff along a narrow channel, 
where the oars were useless, and the only method of progression was by pulling 
at the bushes on either side, we at length invaded the sanctity of a small 
private Broad. Here M—— had seen a Bearded Tit in the preceding spring, 
but on this occasion we failed to find one after a two hours’ search. It wasa 
delightful nook all the same; less than half an acre in extent, and nestling 
within a belt of the densest reeds, its still brown waters carpeted in parts with 
lilies, and dotted with miniature islands of rank, luxuriant vegetation, it was an 
ideal piece of Broadland, a scene of absolute peace and seclusion. The Coots 
and Moorhens might just have come forth from the Ark, so tame were they. 
Their nests met us at every turn, and the birds themselves, their dark forms 
faintly mirrored on the placid surface of the mere, paddled all around us amid 
the water-plants, utterly fearless of the boat’s approach. 
Some days later we organised a picnic to Scoulton Mere, and, setting forth 
in two large punts, with several ladies, spent the day in punting round the 
swampy island which shelters the colony of Lesser Black-headed Gulls. The 
social conviviality of a picnic party being hardly conducive to ornithological 
research, the only find was a Reed Warbler’s nest. But our visit to the Gulls’ 
nesting-place proved most interesting to everyone. As we approached, the 
whole company of sitting birds arose, and in one white cloud hovered shrieking 
above our heads. When we landed, the oft-told story, that it was difficult to 
avoid treading on their eggs, proved, to our astonishment, literally true; there 
were hundreds of nests within quite a small radius. We were neatly ambushed 
by a watcher while engaged in annexing a few eggs, but after much persuasion 
he was at length induced to allow us to keep three as a memento of the visit. 
One of these was a very interesting specimen, the ground colour being light 
