236 BURIES THE WILD DUCK. CHAP. xn. 



with all its fury, along the lonesome and unsheltered 

 hill. The snow had risen higher, and the smothering 

 drift came fiercer, as night drew on ; yet still that 

 poor bird, in defiance of the warring elements, con- 

 tinued to protect her home, and the treasure which it 

 contained, until she could do so no longer, and yielded 

 up her life. That life she could easily have saved, 

 had she been willing to abandon the offspring which 

 Nature had taught her so fervently to cherish, and in 

 endeavouring to preserve which she voluntarily re- 

 mained and died. Occupied with such feelings and re- 

 flections as these, I know not how long I might have sat, 

 had I not been roused from my reverie by the bark- 

 ing of a shepherd's dog. The sun had already set, 

 the grey twilight had begun to hide the distant moun- 

 tains from my sight, and, not caring to be benighted 

 on such a spot, I wrapped a piece of paper, as a wind- 

 ing sheet, round the faithful and devoted bird, and, 

 forming a hole sufficiently large for the purpose, I 

 laid into it the mother and the eggs. I covered them 

 with earth and moss, and, over all, placed a solid 

 piece of turf ; and having done so, and being more 

 affected than I should perhaps be willing to acknow- 

 ledge, I left them to moulder into their original dust, 

 and went on my way." 



Having thus related an instance of maternal affec- 

 tion on the part of the wild duck, let us cite a still 

 more remarkable instance of brotherly sympathy and 

 help on the part of the common Tern (Sterna hirundo), 

 called Pickietars in the neighbourhood of Banff. 



