THE RISING OF THE WATERS 323 



as this was a new one, a fine male hen-harrier, I looked 

 upon the day's work as a success. The harrier had the 

 remains of a snow-bunting in its stomach. 



The next day was very cold, with a north-west wind 

 and brilliant sunshine. The river had risen so much that 

 the ship floated both fore and aft. We could perceive 

 that the ice in the centre of the river was gradually 

 losing its heavy burden of snow, the water in many 

 places having risen to the level of its surface, causing 

 large greyish patches, and making the snow look more 

 or less piebald. As the river rose it gradually widened. 

 Outside the central snow-covered ice a narrow belt of 

 ever-widening thin black ice was a feature in the land- 

 scape. The migration of geese was stopped by the cold. 

 It had evidently been premature. Many flocks passed 

 over during the day, but they were all flying south, 

 having overshot their mark and flown faster than the 

 rate at which the ice was breaking up, into a region still 

 frost-bound, where, consequently, no food could be ob- 

 tained. Hawks became abundant, a sure sign that their 

 prey were not far off and would very soon become so 

 also. I shot another male hen-harrier, and missed a shot 

 at the female. I also saw a pair of sparrow-hawks and 

 a rough-legged buzzard, and in the evening one of the 

 engineers shot a male peregrine falcon. The female was 

 sitting on the same tree at the time. 



There was no change during the next three days. 

 On the 26th I shot a bean-goose, which was apparently 

 the species of which all the flocks we had hitherto seen 

 were composed. I found an excellent place on the bank 

 of the main river, where I could lie concealed like a 

 grouse-shooter behind his butts. The geese came up at 

 a terrific pace in parties of five or six, exactly like grouse 

 in a drive. They were scarcely in sight before they 



