57



on Rock Ptarmigan, Harlequin Duck, etc.


ends of grass leaves, also clover flowers and many seeds of

different weeds which they find amongst the grass. They do not

move much in the middle of the day but feed very actively for

about an hour at sunset. One thing puzzles me, namely, that

about dusk each evening they repeatedly tap with their bills the

larch poles which support the wire netting of their enclosure. If

the object is to get insects they can scarcely have acquired the

habit in Iceland as there are virtually no trees there.


I have given the birds some pieces of rock to perch on,

and of course keep them supplied with plenty of water. In their

enclosure is a large bare sandy spot where they are fed. They

are exceedingly tame and come running to be fed. It may be

that English summers will be trying to the birds but Icelandic

summers are much hotter than most people suppose. Last sum¬

mer was exceptionally hot and I had good opportunities of

watching Ptarmigan, which seemed by no means distressed by a

temperature which I felt uncomfortably hot. The trouble of

getting these birds has been very great, but if they live and breed

in this country I shall feel amply repaid.


I hoped to bring back with me from Iceland some Harle¬

quin Ducks, or at any rate some Harlequin Duck eggs to hatch

in this country. Judging from Messrs. Pearsons recorded ex¬

perience I thought there would be no difficulty in getting fresh

eggs in the North of Iceland at the time of my visit. However,

I learnt on the 20th June that almost all the Harlequin Ducks in

the district where I stayed had already brought off young, and

only one nest was known, and the duck in this case was already

sitting. This nest was on a good large island in the middle of a

rapidly flowing river—the island being covered with low bushes

in the middle and grassy round the edges. The nest was under

a bush about fifteen yards from the water and contained only

four eggs (the others having been taken by a farmer).


After some difficulty I got a sitting hen (these are very

scarce in the locality), and having proved her earnest desire to

sit, I took some cotton-wadding with a hot water bottle in, a

basket and, committing myself to the back of a small Icelandic

pony and to the care of a still smaller Icelandic boy, I forded

to the island and brought back the eggs in triumph. The eggs



