AVES ANATID^. 429 



sands of the birds had encamped for the night on the plain hard by, the 

 effect of their many voices (Hke that of their appearance when seen flying) 

 was singular, as well as beautiful, on account of the striking contrasts in 

 the various sounds they uttered. On cold nights they are most loquacious, 

 and their voices may be heard by the hour, rising and falling, now few, 

 and now many taking part in the endless confabulation — a talkee-talkee 

 and concert in one ; a chatter as of many magpies ; the solemn, deep Jiouk- 

 honk, the long, grave note changing to a shuddering sound ; and, most 

 wonderful, the fine silvery whistle of the male, steady or tremulous, now 

 long and now short, modulated a hundred ways — wilder and more beau- 

 tiful than the night-cry of the widgeon, brighter than the voice of any shore 

 bird, or any warbler, thrush or wren, or the sound of any wind instru- 

 ment. 



"It is probable that those who have never known the Magellanic goose 

 in a state of nature are best able to appreciate its fine qualities in its present 

 semi-domestic state in England. At all events the enthusiasm with which a 

 Londoner spoke of this bird in my presence some time ago came to me 

 rather as a surprise. It was at the studio in St. John's Wood of our 

 greatest animal painter, one Sunday evening, and the talk was partly about 

 birds, when an elderly gentleman said that he was pleased to meet some one 

 who would be able to tell him the name of a wonderful bird he had lately 

 seen in St. James's Park. His description was vague ; he could not say 

 what its colour was, nor what sort of beak it had, nor whether its feet were 

 webbed or not ; but it was a large tall bird, and there were two of them. 

 It was the way this bird had comported itself towards him that had so 

 taken him. As he went through the park at the side of the enclosure, 

 he caught sight of the pair some distance away on the grass, and the 

 birds, observing that he had stopped in his walk to regard them, left 

 off feeding, or whatever they were doing, and came to him. Not to be 

 fed — it was impossible to believe that they had any such motive ; it was 

 solely and purely a friendly feeling towards him which caused them im- 

 mediately to respond to his look, and to approach him, to salute him, in 

 that way. And when they had approached to within three or four yards 

 of where he stood, advancing with a quiet dignity, and had then uttered 

 a few soft, low sounds, accompanied with certain graceful gestures, they 

 turned and left him ; but not abruptly, with their backs towards him — oh, 

 no, they did nothing so common ; they were not like other birds — they 



