CHAP. xii. THE MOTHERLY WILD DUCK. 235 



" As I imagined she was skulking with a view to 

 avoid observation, I touched her with my stick, in 

 order that she might rise ; but she rose not. I was 

 surprised, and, on a nearer inspection, I found that 

 she was dead. She lay raised a little on one side, 

 her neck stretched out, her mouth open and full of 

 snow, her wings somewhat extended, and with one of 

 her legs appearing a little behind her. Near to it 

 there were two eggs. On my discovering this I lifted 

 up the bird, and underneath her was a nest contain- 

 ing eleven eggs ; these, with the other two, made 

 thirteen in all ; a few of them were broken. I exa- 

 mined the whole of them, and found them, without 

 exception, to contain young birds. This was an un- 

 doubted proof that the poor mother had sat upon them 

 from two to three weeks. With her dead body in my 

 hand I sat down to investigate the matter, and to 

 ascertain, if I could, the cause of her death. I exa- 

 mined her minutely all over, and could find neither 

 wound nor any mark whatever of violence. She had 

 every appearance of having died of suffocation. Al- 

 though I had only circumstantial evidence, I had no 

 hesitation in arriving at the conclusion that she had 

 come by her death in a desperate but faithful struggle 

 to protect her eggs from the fatal effects of the recent 

 snowstorm. 



" I could not help thinking, as I looked at her, 

 how deep and striking an example she afforded of 

 maternal affection. The ruthless blast had swept, 



