M BRITISH BIRDS. [vol. xv. 



Ducks are extremely silent birds, seldom uttering a sound 

 .save under the influence of sexual emotion. There are, 

 however, two exceptions — the Long-tailed Duck {Clangula 

 hyemalis) and the Harlequin {H. histrionicus) . The strange, 

 .long-drawn cry of the former may be heard constantly 

 wherever these ducks are to be found ; whilst the Harlequins, 

 both when swimming and feeding, frequently give utterance 

 to a low piping whistle, the same call being used when they 

 .are about to take wing, doubtless as a signal of departure 

 to the remainder of the flock. As I have never had the good 

 -fortune to watch the courtship of these species, I am unable 

 to say whether they remain silent or not on such occasions. 



Though they fight a good deal amongst themselves, I have, 

 .as a general rule, always found diving Ducks to be extremely 

 well disposed towards their neighbours ; indeed, with the 

 •exception of the Red-breasted Merganser {Mergus serrator), 

 to be dealt with later, I cannot remember ever having 

 •witnessed a fight between two individuals of different species. 

 This is the more remarkable, considering the days and months 

 they spend during the dull winter season feeding and drifting 

 ■on the waters in each other's company ; and though the 

 .abundance of food to be found in the sea may partly account 

 for this absence of collisions, it cannot altogether explain the 

 peace and goodwill that always seem to animate these 

 delightful creatures. As a bird-lover, therefore, as well as a 

 fairly keen observer, I prefer to give my feathered friends 

 the benefit of the doubt, and to attribute it to their gentle 

 •disposition. 



Some species have a strange preference for certain feeding- 

 grounds. There is a bay, barely ten miles distant from where 

 I lived, where the Long-tailed Duck could always be seen in 

 large numbers throughout the winter, yet during all the years 

 I spent in the neighbourhood I never once saw a single 

 individual of this species in my own little bay, where the 

 •conditions, save for the somewhat shallower water, were 

 almost identical. I have, moreover, noticed a similar pre- 

 ference even within the limits of my own bay, the Scaup 

 {Nyroca marila), a species that was usually present in large 

 flocks throughout the winter, invariably kept to the eastern 

 .and more exposed part of the bay and very seldom ventured 

 to the other and more sheltered side where the conditions 

 were otherwise quite similar. The Harlequins, too, as soon 

 as they arrived would always make for the same place — off 

 the end of a low rocky promontory that jutted out into the 

 .bay. Here, and here only would they dive, though there 



