162 FROM SPRING TO FALL. 



going on. Directly open water showed, they were 

 back again to their sanctuary in perfect safety from 

 danger in any shape or way, their foe the pike 

 excepted — which security has made the fowl as 

 confident as barnyard ducks. 



As I may at some future time write the natural 

 history of this large mere, filled with the purest 

 water, I will confine myself here to the coots. The- 

 habits of these birds are most interesting ones to 

 a wandering field - naturalist. Just before they 

 actually begin to build their damp platforms of 

 nests, they show off a great deal, sailing along 

 with their wings raised, like little black swans ; 

 flirting the water up and over themselves in 

 showers, squattering along just above the surface, 

 half- paddling, half- flying, leaving a wake behind 

 them as if a boat had passed. Clanking, clicking, 

 and querulously twittering, a rare to-do there is, all 

 at one time. They are handsome birds in pairing- 

 time, velvety black and rich dark-grey, these tones 

 set off by the bluish white of the frontal shield, 

 and the colouring of the legs and feet, their scratch- 

 ing- machines. If any of my readers would like 

 to know what a coot is like, just wing- tipped, let 



