CHAP, xxiv.] SHOOTING WILD SWANS. 195 



thought of some of my assistant's instruction which he had 

 given me en route in the morning, and I imitated, as well as I 

 could, the bark of a dog : immediately all the swans collected in 

 a body, and looked round to see where the sound came from. I 

 was not above forty yards from them, so gently raising myself 

 on my elbow, I pulled the trigger, aiming at a forest of necks. 

 To my dismay, the gun did not go off, the wet or something else 

 having spoilt the cap. The birds were slow in rising, so without 

 pulling the other trigger, I put on another cap, and standing 

 up, fired right and left at two of the largest swans as they rose 

 from the loch. The cartridge told well on one, who fell dead 

 into the water; the other flew off after the rest of the flock, 

 but presently turned back, and after making two or three grace- 

 ful sweeps over the body of his companion, fell headlong, per- 

 fectly dead, almost upon her body. The rest of the birds, after 

 flying a sort distance away, also returned, and flew for a minute 

 or two in a confused flock over the two dead swans, uttering 

 their bugle-like and harmonious cries, but finding that they were 

 not joined by their companions, presently fell into their usual 

 single rank, and went undulating off towards the sea, where I 

 heard them for a long time trumpeting and calling. 



Handsome as he is, the wild swan is certainly not so graceful 

 on the water as a tame one. He 1ms not the same proud and 

 elegant arcli of the neck, nor does he put up his wings while 

 swimming, like two snow-white sails. On the land a wild swan 

 when winged makes such good way, that if he gets much start it 

 requires good running to overtake him. 



Their feathers are so strong and they have so much down 

 beneath the breast-feathers, that when coming towards you over 

 your head, no shot makes the least impression unless you aim at 

 their head and neck. 



If such constant warfare was not declared against these (now 

 only occasional) visitors to this country, as well as against many 

 others, our lakes and woods would have many more permanent 

 winter and summer occupants than they have. I have no doubt 

 that many birds who now only pass a few months here, would 

 domicile themselves entirely if left in peace ; and swans, instead 

 of returning to the deserts and swamps of Russia, Siberia, or 

 Norway, would occasionally at least remain here to breed, and by 



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