50 A SUMMER ON THE YENESEl 



stood upon rising ground, and the country around was 

 open and rolling, although, owing to the melting snow- 

 drifts, it was impossible to walk straight for two hundred 

 yards in any direction. But in between the patches of 

 snow were thickets of scrub willows which were just 

 blazing with birds. The word may sound exaggerated, 

 but anyone who has seen the edge of the tundra at 

 the end of June will know what is meant by it. Here 

 I met with many species that were new to me. Red- 

 throated pipits were very abundant, and on all sides 

 they parachuted down into the willows in a cascade of 

 song. The Lapland bunting was the next commonest 

 species. These birds were in pairs, and I shot a female 

 who was toying with a feather. I also saw a yellow- 

 headed wagtail, who was trailing a wisp of grass as long 

 and as unmanageable as her own tail. The willow bushes 

 held bluethroats and a number of small green furtive 

 things — Phylloscopus tristis and P. horealis so my gun 

 told me. How charming these little warblers are, and 

 how exactly, both in form and colouring, they harmonise 

 with the willow leaves among which they hide 1 At 

 Dudinka, for the first time, wading birds became common. 

 I heard several golden plover on the tundra, and shot a 

 great snipe in the snow. Red-necked phalaropes were 

 abundant, and flocks of ruffs constantly flew overhead. 

 From a half- frozen creek came harsh the cries of some long- 

 tailed ducks — coal an can'le licht, as the Scotch syllable 

 the call — and a dozen arctic terns were fishing in a flood 

 pool. I did not see the pintailed snipe here, although 

 it had been common in the marshy parts of the taiga 

 and was afterwards observed as far north as Pustoy. 



