CROSSING THE RIVER 157 



old, lay on the ground at our feet. Our search for nest 

 or eggs was vain. As it was getting late, after shooting 

 a pair of dunlins on a space of marshy ground, and a 

 willow-grouse among some dwarf willows, we returned 

 to our boat, resolving to renew our search for eggs of 

 Buffon's skua and grey plover on the morrow. We 

 turned to look towards the place of our encounter with 

 the former : the whole flock had returned to it ; they 

 looked like great black terns on the wing as they hovered 

 over it with their peculiar kestrel- or tern-like flight. On 

 several occasions afterwards we observed that the skuas 

 have many habits in common with the terns. 



The north-east wind continued to blow the next day, 

 but the sunshine was bright and warm. When evening 

 came and the sun got low down in the horizon — for of 

 course it never set — the wind increased and we felt it 

 very cold. We spent our morning blowing eggs. In the 

 afternoon we sent Cocksure on another expedition after a 

 swan, whose nest with four eggs had been found and 

 brought to us by one of our men. Towards four we 

 crossed the river to the tundra. Our crazy old flat- 

 bottomed boat could only sail with the wind dead on her 

 stern, so we had to row with the stream for about a mile 

 down the river, and then sail up again with the wind. 

 By the appearance of the surrounding landscape we 

 calculated that since we had last been on that part of the 

 Petchora, the water must have fallen four feet at least. 

 Some of the islands had doubled in size, and new sand- 

 banks lay bare. We landed near a deserted house called 

 Bugree, and soon afterwards shot a black scoter off her 

 nest. It contained six eggs and an abundance of down 

 and lay in a little hollow sloping towards the river, 

 entirely concealed amongst dwarf birch. The scoter 

 apparently does not breed on the islands, but prefers a 



