WILD LIFE IN SEVERN ESTUARY 27 



into high billows or still higher rounded tussocks. 

 The firm ground between is covered with heather 

 and low birch trees. And everywhere, and between 

 everything, shining water. We have reached the 

 breeding-ground of the mallards. 



It is but a moment to make preparation for 

 wading. There is no bird that swims or flies which 

 is capable of exciting so persistent an interest in 

 the secrets of her life as the mallard. In alertness 

 and shyness, in craftiness in placing her eggs, in 

 devotion to her young, and in the extraordinary 

 tricks of avoiding pursuit which both parent and 

 young have developed, the wild ancestor of our 

 breeds of domestic ducks has few equals in the wild ; 

 and if blood be the price of efficiency, beyond doubt 

 she has paid in full : for war from times primeval 

 has man waged on her for her eggs and succulent 

 flesh. As we advance through the marsh a scene of 

 disquiet spreads in front. A few ducks have 

 joined the drakes circling in the air. The moor-hens 

 croak in the water-leads. A water-rail's nest 

 resting in the water but daintily woven in the reeds 

 and containing eight eggs is passed. Not thus 

 lightly does the coot build in the water close by 

 here a nest which is always founded on a submerged 

 heap, laboriously gathered, of last year's sedge. 

 Emerging at last on the dry heather and wading 

 knee-deep through it a small duck-like bird which 

 disappears with rapid flight is disturbed. The nest, 

 containing nine creamy-white eggs almost concealed 

 in feathers, is in the thick cover. But it is a teal's 

 and there is still no trace of the mallard. 



Where the water is ankle-deep in the long marsh 

 grass strewn with last year's reed-stalks something 



