MOORHEN AND NEST 



CHAPTER XI 



THE Lark, which is our river here, and more 

 particularly the little stream that runs into it, are, 

 like most rivers and streams in England, much 

 haunted by moorhens and dabchicks, especially by 

 the former, though in winter I have seen as many as 

 eleven of the latter the little dabchicks swimming, 

 dipping, and skimming over the water, together. 

 There is a fascination in making oneself acquainted 

 with the ways of these little birds. They are not so 

 easy to watch, and yet they are not so very very 

 difficult. They seem made for concealment and re- 

 tirement, which makes it all the more piquant when 

 they come, plainly, into view, and remain there, at 

 but a few yards' distance, which, with patience, can 

 be brought about. The whole thing lies in sitting still 

 for an hour or a few more hours waiting for the 



