THE WIGEON AND POCHARDS 275 



arrives on our coasts at the end of October or early 

 part of November, according to circumstances. 



Scaups are better to look at than to eat. Before 

 the commoner kinds of shell-fish reached the markets 

 in the quantities they now do, these birds were more 

 numerous on some parts of our coasts than they are 

 at present. Creeks and harbours have been altered, 

 and dangerous masses of rock have been blown to 

 pieces, to the untold benefit of all sea-faring folk, 

 but not to that of the Scaup. Those who have 

 from a boat looked through the clear water, down 

 on these rocky gardens when the tide was full 

 during calm weather, will fully understand what is 

 meant by Scaups' diving rocks. The wrack and 

 weeds are full of marine creatures, some nimbly 

 swimming, others resting on the weeds. Spat, as 

 the young of shell-fish are comprehensively called, 

 require while they are tender a certain amount of 

 shelter. This was supplied by the weed-covered 

 rocks, which were at one time far too numerous. 

 I have seen a creek with tortuous bends, some of 

 them very sharp ones, leading direct from open 

 water to a good harbour well inland, covered at low 

 water with shell-fish, mussel-scalps, winkle-hards, 

 cockle-patches, and crabs. 



No matter how it tossed and thundered in open 

 water the fish were all right in their creek. Old 

 piles, weed-draped and all awash at high water, 

 contributed their share towards comfort. The fish 

 seemed to know all about it quite as well as the 

 birds. I have seen them landed with rod and line 



