2 1 8 REPTILES AND BIRDS. 



leave the shell ; and their mother soon leads them down to the water, 

 encouraging them by her example to enter it. They do not return 

 to the nest. At night their mother covers them under her wings, and 

 at first feeds them with the small flies that come within her reach. 



The ducklings, although they soon learn to swim, are unable to 

 fly till after the expiration of three months ; after that lapse of time 

 wing-feathers are developed sufficiently to enable them to use their 

 pinions. But they are always alert and active on the water, diving 

 and remaining under it for many minutes, sometimes with nothing 

 but the bill above the surface. When danger approaches, the mother 

 utters a peculiar cry, and the young ones immediately conceal them- 

 selves. In a ditch full of water, Mr. McGillivray once came upon a 

 whole brood of half-grown ducklings, which disappeared in a moment ; 

 and although he searched everywhere for them, he did not succeed 

 in finding a single one. When the Duck perceives the Great Black- 

 backed Gull, an enemy of her race, she beats the water with her wings 

 as if to attract the attention of the aggressor ; on his approach she 

 darts at him with so much vigour that she frequently compels him to 

 retreat. 



Audubon relates a remarkable instance of maternal affection in 

 this bird. The American naturalist had found in the woods a female 

 of this species at the head of her young brood. As he approached, 

 he noticed that her feathers became erect, and that she hissed with a 

 threatening gesture, after the manner of geese. In the meantime 

 the ducklings made off in all directions. His dog, which was per- 

 fectly trained, brought the little creatures to him, one by one, without 

 doing them the least injury. But in all his proceedings he was 

 watched by the mother, who kept passing and re-passing in front of 

 him, as if to distract his attention. When the ducklings were all 

 safe in the game-bag, in which they struggled and cried out, the 

 mother came with a sad and troubled air, and placed herself close to 

 the naturalist, as if unable to suppress her despair. Audubon, seeing 

 her intense grief, was filled with pity, and restored her little family 

 before leaving the spot. " When I turned round to watch her," adds 

 he, "I really fancied I could detect an expression of gratitude in 

 her eyes ; and I experienced at that moment one of the most vivid 

 sensations of pleasure I have ever enjoyed." 



Whilst the mother is devoting herself to the education of her 

 brood, the father pays but little attention to his progeny. Jaded and 

 thin, he lives a solitary and quiescent life, more sad and wild than 

 ever. He has, in fact, to submit to a most sudden course of moulting. 

 The female also loses her plumage after the young ones are hatched. 



