WILDFOWLING IN THE WILDERNESS. 381 



golden plovers, redshanks, dunlins and Kentish plovers ; 

 on several occasions, chattering packs of stilts were met 

 with, and on January 30th a large flock of avocets were 

 feeding on the slobby mud-flats— these the pateros assured 

 us had just -arrived, which probably was the case. Once, 

 by night, we recognized the well-known note of the green- 

 shank, and at intervals a green sandpiper would spring 

 from some muddy pool. Beyond the fringe of rushes 

 stood sedate herons ; here and there a party of storks, and 

 further out still, the flamingoes, whose rosy ranks impart 

 a thoroughly southern character to the scene. 



There was, therefore, no lack of bird-life, though many 

 of the more interesting species were gone. Amidst the 

 feathered population, apparently unnoticing and unnoticed 

 by all, the Marsh-Harriers ceaselessly wheel and drift. After 

 watching them for hours we have never seen them take a 

 bird on the wing, or pursue anything at all, unless 

 wounded. Now and then a harrier would pounce fiercely upon 

 some object — we could not see what — among the rushes, 

 and remain poised on outstretched wings for some minutes, 

 evidently struggling with some victim — perhaps a frog or 

 wounded bird — and then quietly resume his hunting. The 

 Hen-Harrier in dry seasons we frequently observe while 

 snipe-shooting — now, the few seen were all on the dry 

 plains, and not on the marisma. 



One day, towards the end of January, while endeavour- 

 ing to circumvent the greylags, we fell in with a pack of 

 some forty Sand-Grouse — the Pintailed species — Pterocles 

 alchata. They were intensely wild, and at the end of two 

 hours' stalking, the end of the operation seemed as far 

 off as ever. One point in our favour was that the Gang'as 

 had a strong haunt at that flat, sandy spit — perhaps it 

 was the only ground suitable to their habits that remained 

 uncovered by water. At any rate, they refused to leave it 

 entirely, and though at times the pack would soar away 

 up into the blue heavens till lost to sight, and we could 

 only follow their course by the harsh croaking notes, yet 

 they invariably returned, descending direct to earth with 

 superb abruptnesses, headlong as a shower of falling stars. 



