270 WILD LIFE OF SCOTLAND 



As a rule, to which there are, of course, exceptions, 

 I had rather talk with an intelligent gamekeeper 

 than with the lessee of the shooting, because he is 

 on the spot at all hours of the day, and seasons of 

 the year. And I had rather talk with an intelligent 

 poacher than either, because he keeps irregular 

 hours, and sees wild life when others are asleep. 

 If anyone knew that water, with the nesting-places, 

 and goings and comings of its feathered inhabit- 

 ants, this man did. In addition to the eye of a 

 naturalist, he had the interest of one to whom 

 exact knowledge meant daily bread. 



I mount the boat beside him, and have a look 

 out. Nowhere more than two miles wide, the 

 estuary is at once ample, and yet within 

 manageable limits. Nothing could escape the 

 watcher's glass. But the first thing that appears 

 needs no glass. 



A large bird sails into view, and, with a grace- 

 ful curve, settles on the water. My friend sculls 

 quietly to windward, and prepares for action. 

 According to its wont, the swan rises against the 

 wind, and comes toward him. In a few moments 

 it is on board. It proves to be a mute swan. 

 The man is silent also; the reason being that 

 this species, especially when abroad singly, is 



