A CHESHIRE BIRD 77 



and climb to the warm, dry back of its parent, but it can 

 swim as soon as it has left the shell if necessary. Certainly, 

 for some time, it seems to object to the water, and when- 

 ever it can it seeks the parental steed, snuggling down in 

 the cradle formed by the slightly elevated wings. It has 

 often been stated that the parent bird, if danger threatens, 

 takes the young down beneath its wings, but I have 

 never seen this done. When the young is on the back 

 it can be held in place by the paternal or maternal scapu- 

 lars or wings, but as a rule the little one, when not so 

 held, comes bobbing up, astonished and doubtless much 

 annoyed, when its parent has given it an unexpected 

 ducking. At all times it is very much a mother's spoilt 

 baby, following her about with incessant squeaky de- 

 mands for attention. As it grows it gets a little more 

 independence, but it is quite as big as the adult bird 

 before it ceases this continuous call for food. Its early 

 dives are very superficial, and it may be traced as it swims 

 for a few yards under water by the ripple on the surface. 

 Belated nesting is too frequent on the meres, where early 

 broods frequently meet with disaster; it is no uncommon 

 sight to see young birds still squeaking after their betters 

 in September or October. Egg-robbing by boys, and, in 

 spite of the careful covering, by jays, crows, and other 

 birds, doubtless explains the failure of many an early 

 brood; but when the young are hatched they are hi even 

 greater danger from the pike which lurk in the reeds close 

 to their floating domicile. Four eggs is common one 

 young bird, a survivor, only too frequent. And yet the 

 great crested grebe holds its own on the pike-haunted 

 Cheshire waters, and twenty or thirty birds, even more, 

 are not infrequent on the water; on one mere, at any rate, 

 a dozen or a score of nests might be discovered in its 

 reedy marginal belt. The bird is certainly not diminish- 

 ing in numbers in this its ancient home. 



