A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 199 



of the red- and the other of the black-throated species. 

 The little stint was scarce and the Temminck's stint 

 was not seen, but I saw a turnstone, the first that I 

 observed on the Yenesei. I took another clutch of grey 

 phalarope's eggs, and then went inland to look for the 

 king-eider, which, although I did not put much faith 

 in the report that it bred so far south of the 

 seacoast, Sylkin declared bred there. Presently two 

 long- tailed skuas flew overhead. A red-necked phal- 

 arope was flying over the marsh, and immediately 

 one of these harpies made a most unprovoked attack 

 upon it. Double and dodge as she would, the victim 

 could not escape, for the skua, who, with his long 

 rectrices for a rudder, well knew all the tricks of 

 wingcraft, followed every zigzag ascent and dive like a 

 pursuing thunderbolt, and fairly hunted down the poor 

 little bird. This chase seemed to be undertaken purely 

 out of wanton mischief. Most birds seldom attack 

 another unless they need it for food, or see that it 

 trespasses upon their breeding-ground, but the skuas 

 will harry anything that comes in their way, just for 

 the sport, and for the pleasure of hearing the poor 

 thing scream. They are almost as diabolically cruel as 

 our own hooded crows. 



By far the most interesting birds in this marsh were 

 two more pairs of grey plovers. I lay down for some 

 time to watch them, but there was so little covert that 

 this was no easy matter. They were wilder than the 

 first pair, and evidently had young somewhere in the 

 marsh, but it proved impossible to mark them down. 

 I should have liked to explore farther up the valley. 



