30 A BIRD COLLECTOR'S MEDLEY. 



CHAPTER VI. 

 THE BROADS. 



THE ancient reputation of the Broads, coupled with the fascination of 

 their seductive scenery, and even the mere fact that they are practically the 

 sole resort of the Bearded Tit, will always induce naturalists to visit them ; 

 it is only a question of when their magnetic influence will exert its power. 

 But, supposing that we do set out for this El Dorado of the ornithologist's 

 imagination, what are we likely to meet with when we get there ? 



Now, I lay no claim to any intimate acquaintance with the bird life of 

 East Anglia. People who live in this district have regaled us with descriptions 

 of the splendid sights to be seen there. We read of five Harriers seen on the 

 wing in a single day, and within a short distance of whole families of Crested 

 Grebes and Bearded Tits ; and we get hints of even Ruffs still sparring and 

 nesting in the more sequestered spots. And no one doubts the truth of these 

 stories ; only they describe the privileges that belong not to the many, but to 

 the few the few who dwell upon the spot. The many go to the Broads only 

 at intervals, and for a short time; and the following record of what I myself 

 have met with in various sporadic expeditions may be taken by such intending 

 visitors as giving a rough but fairly accurate idea of what they themselves are 

 likely to encounter if they go there as strangers, without any credentials to 

 admit them to the private and more secluded Broads. 



Probably no one will be under the delusion that he will be able to shoot. 

 There is no free shooting in Broadland, save on Breydon Water, and of that 

 free shooting more anon. For an ordinary visit, one must abandon the gun 

 for the field-glasses. As regards the choice of seasons, I should vote without 

 hesitation for the spring or early summer, for to the explorer of these lagoons 

 a calm day is the first essential ; a stiff wind ruins everything. 



My earliest pilgrimage dates back to June, 1889, when, in company with 

 a fellow undergraduate, equally keen on natural history, I paid a flying visit 

 from Cambridge to Wroxham and Salhouse Broads. I must confess to having 

 been rather taken aback. The fine reed-fringed expanse of Wroxham was 

 indeed much what I had pictured it, but I had expected to find the Broads 



