THE PEAT ISLE. 237 



the feathers in the clear water, stands the patient lonely 

 heron, waiting till the shoal of incautious fish, which the 

 warm sun has brought to the shallows, begin curiously to 

 nibble at its silvery legs. When, striking down its 

 harpoon bill, with far greater certainty than a leister 

 thrown by the most skilful hand, it rarely or never fails 

 to draw up its victim. Not far distant, and perched upon 

 an archipelago of rocks, may be seen the snowy-breasted 

 herring gull, while its mate is floating upon the glassy 

 deep. At the sound of a footstep, they both extend their 

 sluggish wings, and soar high into the air with loud and 

 discordant scream a pretty sure sign that the nest is 

 near. This call, not altogether unlike the barking of a 

 dog, may be heard for miles around, and is to be considered 

 a note of alarm rather than of defiance. 



Herons and gulls build every year on this island, or 

 near to it.* We have often tamed the young of both, and 

 it would be difficult to say which are the most voracious. 

 I have given half-a-dozen perch at a time, which have 

 been instantly swallowed, dorsal fins and all, by one of 

 these young gluttons. As soon as their wings grew, they 

 wandered away, and would not suffer themselves to be 

 secured until they were half-famished. The gulls would 

 often be driven back by extreme hunger to the place where 

 they were usually fed : the herons, even in this state, had 

 always to be carried home, tempted by a fish or piece of 



* Formerly there used often to be a brood of black game on the 

 Peat Isle, but of late years grouse have always hatched at the far end of 

 it : this I believe they do on no other island of the loch. 



