194 THE PLOUGHING 



call him plain Fiend it was precisely at this spot, 

 then, that the Fiend went below, making a wild 

 sabre-cut at the sky as he disappeared. 



He was no sooner down than a Mallard that 

 had been lurking in the continuation of the ditch, 

 shot up with a startled quack, and after circling twice 

 round the marsh, slid into the water in a more distant 

 part of it. When alighting upon water, ducks, being 

 poor hoverers, slide down an inclined plane, and 

 when about to enter the water, set their legs stiffly 

 forward, expand their webs, and " sit well back," 

 thereby saving themselves from pitching forward on 

 the water when they strike it. I have noticed that 

 the wild duck comes here at this time of the year, 

 and hides in these ditches. I am disposed to think 

 that they are really in hiding for the moult, for, as is 

 well known, the male at the summer moult puts on 

 the favours of the duck, and I have never flushed a 

 bird with the drake plumage from these ditches at 

 this season. 



As if in receipt of telepathic intimation that their 

 old baiting-ground was being violated, two Ringed 

 Plovers forerunners of quite a numerous following 

 of southward-bound migrants appeared on the 

 morning of the loth July. It was an early date for 

 the return movement, for these birds were here as 

 late as the beginning of May in their spring passage 

 northwards. But we are never long without Ringed 

 Plovers at the times of migration. This time there 

 seemed a more than usually plaintive quality in their 

 simple piping, for "a sad strain will come to the sad," 

 as the old Greek has it, and I found myself asking 

 sorrowfully if I should ever again hear the familiar 



