OUR FIRST LANDINGS 43 
chéwééki, ki-ki-ki kee kee’—and he sings it com amore, 
from any little mound. 
And we came on a fine playing place of the ruff. In 
the Cromwell Road Museum is a glass case in which the 
scene is capitally represented—for a drama of silent life. 
I think it is really one of the most astonishing perform- 
ances, more striking by far than the blackcock’s lekking, 
because the bird is so small and so grotesque in appear- 
ance. And though they are reducible to some dozen 
types or so, there are never two exactly alike. How- 
ever, we have done our best to drive them from their 
homes in England, and have succeeded far too well. 
We saw many pairs of grey plover, and much to my 
surprise, either none of golden, or but one pair about 
which I was doubtful. 
A pair of large waders flew wildly off. I thought 
them godwits, but was not sure. 
Long-tailed ducks were exceedingly abundant—every 
little pool holding its pair. A duck brought in by 
Hyland contained a fully formed egg. 
King eider, too, were numerous—I shot a pair. The 
duck had not been sitting. On one of the lakes I 
saw one pair of scaup, which rose and flew off, the 
drake croaking like acrow. Also that day we had the 
passage with the swans, which, if I detail it according to 
my purpose at: the end of the book, will there be found 
by those who get so far. And the grouse we found also, 
which will be the subject of some comment later on. 
