THROUGH FIRS AND HEATHER. 307 



for a long way out, not weeds, but bright green 

 grass, on which we shall tread presently. Under 

 the spring light it looks like a plain of silver. The 

 breeze is blowing up the pond, causing a considerable 

 wash, that we could hear very distinctly before we 

 saw the water. 



It is a noble bit of water. Perhaps I am not 

 wrong in calling it one of those pieces which are 

 styled in Scotland " a grassy loch." You might 

 fancy it one, for all the surroundings are so appro- 

 priate, the brown moors and the firs. Over this 

 water the osprey has wheeled and plunged ; a fine 

 spot it is for his fishing. He was very successful 

 in his fishing, but so also was the sportsman who 

 watched his sport, for the grand bird was shot in 

 the act of eating a fish he had captured. Here also 

 the great northern diver's yelling cry has rung out 

 over the heather as he fished in the pond. Wary 

 as the bird was, he never saw Christ Church Bay 

 again, but ended his life here. More have been 

 killed here since then, five all told. Rare waders 

 visit the edges of this water, where they find all that 

 they require ; for it is more like some arm of the 



