400 BIRDS OF THE WEST OF SCOTLAND. 



Eider ought to be ample consolation, and was by far the most 

 valuable "fule" of the two."* 



THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. 



MERGUS SERRATOR. 



Siolta-dhearg. 



ALTHOUGH in the summer season this beautiful bird is shy and 

 unobtrusive, it is well known as a native of nearly all the lakes of 

 any importance north of Loch Lomond. It is likewise numerously 

 distributed throughout the Long island, where it appears to be 

 permanently resident, breeding in South Uist, North Uist, 

 Benbecula, the islands in the Sound of Harris, and Lewis. Within 

 the circle of the Inner islands it is found breeding on rocky islets 

 off Skye, Islay, Jura, Colonsay, and Tyree. I have seen large 

 companies about the close of autumn swimming in the salt-water 

 creeks which intersect the eastern side of North Uist, especially 

 in the neighbourhood of Lochmaddy, where these creeks decoy 

 many an inexperienced Merganser to an early doom. In 

 September, 1867, while waiting there for a change of weather, in 

 the hope of making for Dunvegan, in Skye, I noticed that the 

 Mergansers were uncommonly numerous. Every day for at least a 

 week from forty to fifty young birds, attended by two or three 

 old ones, were seen regularly in these winding sea reaches; but 

 being at length discovered by the owner of one of the few punt 

 guns in the island, my observations on their habits were hastily 

 put an end to. I had been in the habit of concealing myself 

 among the rocks near one of their favourite pools, and had gone 

 out as usual to watch the confiding creatures fishing within a few 

 feet of my hiding place, when a bellowing outburst from the other 

 side of the creek was followed by a rush of buck shot into the 

 midst of the unoffending birds, and three of their number were 

 left floating lifeless on the water. Ah, Roderick! it was poor 

 consolation to hear you betray your disappointed longings when 

 you discovered they were but " them fishy sawbills; " and as their 

 sad requiem rolled mournfully along the sides of Ben Eval, I could 

 almost have wished that shot to be your last. 



* ' Sporting Days,' by J. Colquhoun, 1866. 



