418 BIRDS OF THE WEST OF SCOTLAND. 



two occasions at least I have noticed them with only a single young 

 one the other having probably, in spite of their assiduous care, 

 fallen a victim to some passing raven or peregrine. On these 

 Hebridean lakes the Red-throated Diver is extremely suspicious 

 and vigilant, never allowing a very near approach unless the eggs 

 have been for some time sat upon, when the female, and even 

 the male, who is her constant attendant, remains at hand, swimming 

 anxiously within gunshot, and betraying the utmost concern for the 

 safety of their treasure. Should the eggs be taken, the poor 

 creatures seem to feel the deprivation with unusual keenness, and 

 give expression to their grief for sorrow I really believe it to be 

 in loud lamentations. These cries are so full of melancholy 

 meaning, when heard echoing in the midst of the rock-bound lakes 

 of that barren district, that few persons hearing them once would 

 ever desire their repetition. Many of the natives, indeed, would 

 never think of robbing the birds on that account alone. I once 

 asked a man living near their haunts on Loch-an-Astrom to get 

 me the contents of a nest on the point of a small islet where I had 

 watched the birds for some days, " Ah, maister," said he, " I 

 could soon do that, but / dorft like to hear the birds cry." When I 

 afterwards saw the proud parents giving their two little black 

 downy things their first swimming lesson at early dawn, I could 

 not help thinking that the loch looked much fairer on account 

 of their presence, and that it would have been almost a shame 

 to have invested such a scene with the story of even a bird's 

 despairing cries. 



Among rustic people, the ordinary note of the Red-throated Diver 

 is said to portend rain; in some districts, indeed, the bird is known 

 by the name of rain goose. I have oftener than once had an oppor- 

 tunity of hearing the birds calling at nightfall in the Outer 

 Hebrides. On the 1st of August, 1870, 1 witnessed a curious scene 

 at Lochmaddy, in the island of North Uist, about nine o'clock in 

 the evening. The air was remarkably still and sultry, and frequent 

 peals of thunder in the distance were the only sounds that for a 

 time broke upon the irksome quiet that otherwise prevailed. At 

 length the thunder, on becoming louder, seemed to waken up the 

 Divers on various lochs within sight of where I stood, and first one 

 pair, then another, rose high into the air, and flew round in circles, 

 until there must have been twenty or thirty in all. After a time, 

 they settled in one of the salt creeks about half a mile to the east- 



