140



Miss Innis Dorrien-Smith



nesting, too, in rabbit burrows and stone walls ; and the charming

little Stonechats perch on the summits of the gorse bushes. In the

distance, from the windows, the different islands stud the sea’s sur¬

face, and'the big liners go on their way to and fro from England to

America and hack, beyond the furthest rocks, on the open ocean.

On the grass enclosure which leads to the big pool—and the latter is

not fifty yards from the house—a pair of Sarus Cranes, some Rheas,

etc. walk about, whilst mingling with them when they leave the

water, are several species of ducks and geese.


Out on the pool, big companies of Gulls assemble—Herring,

Great, and Lesser Black hacks—enjoying the fresh water for bathing,

afterwards flocking on the grass land on the farther shore to preen

and dry their feathers ; 200 and 300 together, sometimes giving the

appearance of a big patch of snow. Their laughing cries ring

through the air when they disperse seawards, whilst an occasional

Cormorant flops on to the water to regale itself on eels.


Since the latter part of October (1912) ten wild White-

fronted Geese have been living with the various tame Waterfowl,

within a stone’s throw of the windows of the house. It appears to

me an extraordinary thing how soon wild geese become tame, and I

wonder if they were left in peace whether they would do so else¬

where as they do here. [I am writing in January].


We have several times, in other winters, had odd White-

fronted Geese which took up their abode in the field with the other

birds, which are pinioned, hut I have never seen so many together

making themselves completely at home for so long a time. The

paddock is quite a small one, but they pay no attention when one

walks across, and continue busily eating grass, allowing one to

approach within ten yards of them, one bird only, who is apparently

acting as a sentinel, putting up his head to see that all is well.


Even when wild duck shooting is going on, they pay little

heed, only rising on the wing to circle round for a few minutes, after

which they return to their grazing, or settle on a flat swampy green

close by. There were twelve of these wild geese when they first

arrived from the far north for the winter, but they foolishly flew

over to one of the other islands, from whence they returned

reduced to ten. The fate of the other two was pretty certain, for



