152 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
I am unable to form an idea, nor have I ever read or heard of anyone 
attempting to fix a maximum depth. Where I mostly saw the birds in 
numbers was in that picturesque bay inside the Farnes group of islands, 
and stretching north and south from Holy Island to North Sunderland. 
There I have often witnessed the alternate falling and rising, or rather the 
plunging and ascending, of what we may liken to enormous snow-flakes, 
with an occasional dark-coloured immature bird amongst them. The flight 
of the Gannet is exceedingly light and graceful, yet powerful, and in or on 
the water its buoyancy is remarkable. On detecting a fish, it quickly 
wheels round, ascends a few feet, then drops perpendicularly with a velocity 
that is startling to witness, so suggestive of the bird’s destruction. Ina 
few seconds it re-appears on the surface as sudden and buoyant as a liberated 
bladder. I believe only one fish is secured at each plunge. On coming to 
the surface they turn head to wind, which no doubt enables them to take 
wing more easily. Ishould not consider the Gannet a “ diving-bird,” in 
the strict sense of the word, for I have never seen it attempt to go under 
except by plunging from the air. It may be able to dive perhaps if wounded 
and pursued, as many sea and shore-birds will do. I have seen the Oyster- 
catcher, for instance, and other shore-birds swim and dive when wounded 
so as to make it very difficult to secure them. There is one peculiarity about 
the Gannet that I have never seen noticed in any work on Natural History: 
the bird seems susceptible either to a sort of stupor or fear, paralysing its 
power of flight, of which only one other instance has come under my notice, 
in the case of Richardson’s Skua. Out of five specimens of the Gannet in 
my collection, three were taken alive either from the water or beach, and 
to all visible appearance were unhurt. Two are fine adult birds, the other 
immature, in the pied plumage.—James Surron (Durham). 
Scarcity of the House Martin in Hampshire.—For some years past 
I have noticed that Martins have gradually diminished in numbers in this 
immediate neighbourhood. As a boy I well recollect the rows of nests 
which were formerly built underneath the overhanging eaves of many 
houses in the street, and the not over-clean appearance of many of the 
houses in consequence, especially after the young were hatched. The 
nesting-places still remain, but the birds have almost disappeared: during 
the past summer I have seen but one solitary nest, and in that I believe no 
young were brought out. Perhaps uncongenial weather might account for 
such a state of affairs; but even people who take no particular interest in 
birds have, from time to time, called my attention to the fact of the former 
abundance, but present scarcity, of the nesting community. It would be 
interesting to know if the species has decreased in numbers in other 
localities [Capt. Hadfield says they have decreased in the Isle of 
Wight.—Ep.], and if so, what is the probable cause. I am well aware the 
common House Sparrow has often been blamed for expelling the Martins, 
