PESANKA TO SCHAROK 183 
ning and flying, or sang like grasshoppers from the tops 
of mounds. I found four of their little ones crouching 
in the grass. They were all downy, but with big strong 
legs. 
The little stints I could not understand. They were 
now about in lots of six, nine, or ten, chasing one 
another round and about, as on the Kriva all that 
time ago. 
And I watched four pairs of red-necked phalaropes 
for a long time, with no result, at least towards finding 
their nests. They swim well, in a curious, jerky, perky 
way, with heads straight. They somehow recalled to 
me a crinolined lady by Leech, picking her way across 
the street in the pages of Punch. Mincing—that is the 
word—the red-necked phalarope seems to mince. 
And then, while I was looking at a red-throated diver, 
it swam to the farther side, and then I could see it through 
the glass sitting in the reeds. So I made a circle, and 
came quietly upon it, whereupon it stretched out its 
long neck, and shot down a lane of shallow water that 
led from its nest, and away out into the lake, cutting the 
water for many feet, just as an old pike does when you 
have him by the lip. 
- But now I had weighed to more purpose the question 
of our course. 
If the ice was really away from the Waskina, ought not 
a message to be left waiting there for Powys should he 
call? If Scharok harbour were open out to sea, then 
