THE OOLOGIST 



23 



for such a frivolous purpose and even a 

 majority of the few no more than get 

 into the right road of reasoning than 

 they hastily turn to other subjects 

 because there is an appeal to the con- 

 science that develops a vague uneasiness 

 and they wish to back out before it is 

 too late because they instinctively be- 

 come aware that the ultimatum would 

 be an abandonment of bird decoration, 

 a sacrifice they do not wish to make 

 when other women will not and this is 

 one of those little weaknesses. 



As already mentioned, in the gay 

 fashionable society world there is 

 neither time or inclination to create and 

 cultivate a taste for natural history and 

 probably never will be. Women think 

 no more of a bird for head dress orna- 

 mentation than so much merchandise 

 while her tender heart will cause her 

 to severely censure a "horrid" man 

 acquaintance who has been out and 

 shot some "sweet little innocent 

 dear darling birds" and so while he 

 sincerely regretted the wholesale butch- 

 ery he did not reproach the fair sex at 

 all because he realized their ignorance 

 in the matter and furthermore was 

 forced to acknowledge that they would 

 not wear birds at all if man did not 

 procure them. 



Should the above chance into the 

 hands of lovely woman as voiced by a 

 shot gun student it is not improbable 

 that she would apply something like 

 the following to your humble servant. 

 "The pitch on that roof said the archi- 

 tect friend, 

 Is not enough by a foot or more 

 But the sun came out and the pitch on 



the roof. 

 Drooped on to his neck and the archi- 

 tect swore." 



J. Claire Wood. 



A Day Among the Duck on My vatr, 

 Iceland. 



My brother and I arrived here in 

 June 1900, journeying from Reykjavik, 



with a large cavalcade of ponies, carry- 

 ing our tents and baggage. The scene 

 was grand in the extreme, the great 

 lake stretching away in front of us, 

 with its innumerable bays and islands, 

 the lava covered ground, and reedy 

 swamps, backed up by extinct craters 

 and lofty snow clad peaks on all sides. 



We push on till we reach Skutustadir, 

 a church, few houses and farm build- 

 ings, here we intend staying a day or 

 two, to explore the lake. Oar host, a 

 well known Iceland cleric, proves a 

 pleasant companion and a keen student 

 of Ornithology. We dine with him, 

 some of the dishes taking considerable 

 strength of mind to dispose of, even 

 aided by quantities of sugar. 



Next morning, a lovely day, we take 

 a boat and row out to Mickla Island, 

 a great Duck breeding ground. The 

 water is as clear as crystal and we can 

 see the gravel bottom at a great depth. 

 Near the island quantities of Phalarope 

 {Phalaropus hyperborea) lovely little 

 birds, with white throat and chestnut 

 collar, are swimming round and round, 

 with a quick forward motion, and on 

 landing we find several of their neat, 

 cup shaped nests, closely woven with 

 dry grasses and well hidden among the 

 rough herbage, most containing their 

 full complement of four pyrifovm eggs, 

 of a greenish buff well spotted and 

 blotched with black. Pushing on we 

 are set upon by a few pairs of Artie 

 Terna [Sterna arrtica) the only species 

 occuring in Iceland, so there can be no 

 confusion about their eggs, they are 

 very excited and stoop repeatedly at 

 our beads, striking with considerable 

 force even through our caps. The eggs 

 are usually two just laid in slight 

 hollows and are very variable, I find 

 one pale blue without marking and 

 much elongated. 



Ducks of all kinds are flying and 

 swimming about in large numbers, so 

 we set to work to look for their nests. 

 On hunting a large lava rock a Duck 



