THE WHOOPER SWAN 181 



THE BERNICLE GOOSE 



BERNICLA LEUCOPSIS 



Forehead, sides of the head, and throat, pure white ; a dark streak between the 

 eyes and bill ; head/neck, quills, and tail, black ; rest of the upper plumage 

 undulated transversely with ash-grey, black, and dull white ; lower 

 plumage white, tinged on the flanks with grey ; irides dusky-brown ; 

 bill and feet black. Length two feet one inch. Eggs greenish white. 



This beautiful bird occurs chiefly on the west side of Great Britain 

 in winter. ' It then more frequently retires to the sea than to 

 the lakes during its periods of repose, or when driven from its feed- 

 ing-grounds. A large flock then presents a beautiful spectacle, 

 as the birds sit lightly on the water, and when advancing elevate 

 their necks. Not less beautiful do they seem when on wing ; now 

 arranged in long lines, ever undulating ; at one time extending in the 

 direction of their flight ; at another obliquely, or at right angles 

 to it, sometimes in an angular figure, and again mingling together. 

 Their voice is clear, and rather shrill, and comes agreeably on the ear 

 when the cries of a large flock come from a considerable distance '. 

 In England it is far less common, but occasionally resorts to marshes 

 both on the eastern and western coast. The mythical fragment of 

 ancient natural history, that the Bernicle is the product of a tree, 

 is too trite to require repetition here. 



THE WHOOPER SWAN 



CYGNUS MUSICUS 



Whole plumage pure white, the head and nape sometimes slightly tinged with 

 yellow ; lower half of the bill quadrangular, yellow, upper black ; lore 

 and a great portion of the edge of the upper mandible yellow ; irides 

 brown ; legs black ; tail of twenty feathers. Young birds have the 

 plumage grey ; lore flesh-colour. Length five feet ; breadth seven feet 

 ten inches. Eggs dull white, tinged with greenish. 



The ancient fable that Swans sing most sweetly before their death 

 did not survive the age which invented it. Pliny disbelieved 

 it, and, though the assertion may have been resuscitated from 

 time to time as a poetic fiction, it has found no place in works on 

 natural history. 



The Swan is not musical ; it rests its claims to our admiration 

 on other grounds, unchallenged and indisputable ; the unsullied 

 white of its plumage is an apt emblem of purity, and the elegance 

 of its movements in the water has become proverbial. The present 

 species, which owes its name to its powerful voice, is said to be 

 not quite so graceful as the tame Swan, but on land it is far 

 more active. A bird which has been winged by a sportsman, 

 and has fallen on the land, can only be overtaken by smart running, 



