of the Bearded Tit. 8 5 



daybreak been carrying on a lively conversation over 

 an unfinished nest in a box in the garden, encouraged 

 the hope that the return of the glacial epoch might 

 not after all be so near as for the last six months had 

 seemed probable, we found ourselves, after an early 

 breakfast and drive of fourteen miles, landing from a 

 boat on the edge of a marsh skirting a Broad. The 

 marsh is strictly preserved, and on it, as lately as last 

 summer, Bearded Tits were plentiful. We had come 

 in the full expectation of seeing both birds and 

 nests, and were, if anything, rather encouraged than 

 otherwise when the keeper in the pessimistic tone 

 common to men of his order when conscious that 

 there is an unusually good head of game in front of 

 the guns told us that, though there was a nice lot 

 of reeds uncut, he " doubted " we should not find an}'- 

 Tits, as to the best of his belief there was not one of 

 them left in the place. 



But before an enjoyable day was over his words 

 had acquired a different meaning. We tramped the 

 marsh, which teamed with other bird life, backwards 

 and forwards. Twice we flushed a Mallard from a 

 nest well filled with eggs. One nest, with a clutch of 

 ten, was downed almost as thickly as an Eider Duck's, 

 with a well trampled path like a miniature sheep- 

 walk leading from it to the water's edge. From 

 behind a stook of reed-sheafs we watched for ten 

 minutes a pair of Teal playing together unobserved, 

 as they supposed in a rushy pond close by. 



Shovellers, with fantastic colouring and great flat 

 beaks out of all proportion to the size of the bird, 

 rose more than once within a few yards of us, 

 and after circling once or twice, pitched again not 

 far off. 



Tired-looking Swallows sat disconsolately in parties 



