84 BIRD LIFE IN A WESTERN VALLEY 



no sign of hurry while with elaborate care she 

 preened her feathers. Every part of her plumage 

 seemed in fcurn to need her close attention ; but, 

 like the majority of the water-birds that I have 

 been able to watch intently, she devoted most 

 of her care to the underside of each wing, to the 

 breast, and to the neck, where every feather, 

 after being dried and shaken into place, was 

 stroked out, whorl by whorl, and dressed with 

 oil from the gland near the tail. For a little time 

 the performance was highly entertaining ; but at 

 last the bird's fastidious repetitions failed to 

 interest me, and I became somewhat impatient, 

 especially as my position was uncomfortable, and 

 afforded only a view of the stream towards the 

 falls, and not of the nearer pools and shallows 

 under the boulders. 



I had resolved to risk detection in an effort to 

 gain a better position, when the dipper suddenly 

 finished her toilet. Walking deliberately off the 

 stone, she disappeared, with a flick of her wings, 

 beneath the surface of the stream, and proceeded 

 to hunt for worms and grubs among the stickles 

 and the backwaters by the bank. As for the 

 time I was completely hidden from the bird by a 

 projecting ledge of rock, I moved from my seat 

 and stealthily crept towards the shelter of a 

 bramble-clump from which an uninterrupted 

 view of the dipper's haunts could be obtained. 



