174 



British Birds, with their Nests and Eggs 



in spring, with the breaking-up of the ice on the lakes. I noticed this in Arctic 

 Norway, where I spent part of June on the little island of Tromso. A pair of 

 these Divers inhabited a small lake, on high ground, at the southern end of the 

 island. When we first visited it on the 13th it was still chiefly frozen up, and 

 covered with wet and frozen snow, while clean snow lay in drifts along the shores. 

 The birch woods, with which it was nearly surrounded, were still much encumbered 

 with snow drifts, and the trees at that date were only just bursting into leaf, or 

 had their leaves half opened in sheltered places. Fieldfares, Bramblings, and 

 Mealy Redpolls were nesting on the outskirts of the woods, where the Redwing's 

 run of sweet whistling notes could sometimes be heard. But wintry as the scene 

 was in many respects, the Divers were already in possession. The only open water 

 was in the middle, where there was a low islet covered with yellow grass. On 

 this bit of open water floated a Black-throated Diver in splendid plumage, a most 

 strikingly handsome and conspicuous bird, the white marks on the shoulders 

 appearing confluent at a distance. It swam with its body high out of the water, 

 and its neck arched, occasionally dipping its beak beneath the surface — a well-known 

 habit. I partly alarmed it by demonstrations, when it sank lower in the water, 

 but soon came up again, and seemed well aware that there was no boat on the 

 lake. Presently (how, we did not see) it was joined by another. This I have no 

 doubt was the female, which had dived from the nest and not risen to the surface 

 until she joined her mate. But summer advanced apace, and by the 18th the lake 

 was transformed into a sheet of glassy water and the birch woods were beautifully 

 green — a fresh delicate colour ; all the ice and frozen snow were gone, and the 

 snow on the shores was nearly all melted. There were then two islets in the lake 

 about which Redshanks were calling and trilling, while two pairs of Red-necked 

 Phalaropes, floating lightly on the water, swam rapidly about, snapping at the 

 insects. We then made out the Diver lying on her nest at the very edge of one 

 of the islets, in which position we saw her several times afterwards. One clear 

 calm evening, when the short, beautiful Arctic summer had really come, the blue 

 sky, dappled with white clouds, the snow-capped and snow-banded mountains, the 

 birch trees, the shores, a wooden barn, and even the Diver on her nest (so close 

 to the edge was this) were all perfectly reflected in the water. 



Although this species prefers diving to flight as a means of escape, yet in 

 the breeding season it is much on the wing and flies fast and straight. The late 

 E. T. Booth relates that, when crossing the hills in the north of Scotland, he had 

 noticed as many as eight or ten flying together, and that on such occasions they 

 keep in a straight line, at regular intervals, one behind the other. 



Like its congeners this species is a fish-eater, and it has been convicted of 



