THE DIPPER. 



It secures its food in the most wonder- 

 ful manner when the fact is taken into 

 consideration that the bird appears to be 

 no more adapted to the methods it em- 

 ploys than a Song Thrush. Alighting on 

 some stone in the middle of a rapid 

 stream, it deliberately walks down into 

 the water and swims along the bottom 

 by a series of wing-beats, picking up 

 and swallowing as it goes caddis worms, 

 larvae of flies, and small molluscs. On 

 several occasions I have disturbed young 

 Dippers in the nest when they were ready 

 to fly, and have seen them one by one 

 plunge into a deep, clear pool and pro- 

 gress just as if they were flying slowly 

 and heavily along under water until 

 they came to shore or were compelled 

 to rise to the surface from exhaustion. 



The Dipper is a sweet singer, but the 

 listener requires to be very close to the 

 little vocalist before he is in a position 

 thoroughly to appreciate the bird's low, 

 soft, warbling song, which, although of 

 no great length, is practised even in the 

 middle of winter. 



A year or two ago I had occasion to 

 catch an early train in Westmorland, 

 and whilst walking through some rock- 

 strewn pastures to the station came to an 

 "5 



