Sketches of Spanish Bird-Life 399 
my neighbour, Sir Maurice de Bunsen, who might thus have been 
taken unawares; only ambassadors are never believed to be SO, 
and on this occasion the spotted diplomat certainly got the ball 
quite right, behind the shoulder. 
MarsH-Harrier (Circus aeruginosus).—Over dark wastes 
resound ‘‘duck-guns sullenly booming.” Thereat from reed-bed 
and cane-brake awaken roosting harriers, quick to realise the 
import. It is long before their normal “hours of business,” but 
these miss no chances, and soon the hidden gunner descries 
spectral forms drifting in the gloom—all intent to share his 
spoils. Watch the robbers’ methods. In the deep a winged teal 
is making away, almost awash. The raptor feints again and 
again, following the cripple’s subaquatic course; but he never 
attempts to strike till incessant diving has worn the victim out. 
Then—so soon as the luckless teal is compelled to tarry five 
seconds above water—instantly those terrible talons close like a 
rat-trap. Next comes a lively wigeon, merely wing-tipped ; but 
the water here is shoal and the hawk dare not close. For the 
volume of mud and spray thrown up by those whirling pinions 
would drench his own plumage. The wigeon realises his advan- 
tage and sticks to the shallow—the raptor ever trying to force 
him to the deep. The end comes all the same, though the process 
of tiring-out occupies longer—sooner or later, down drop the yellow 
legs—there is a moment of strenuous struggie and the duck is 
lifted and borne ashore. Should no land be near, the branches of 
a submerged samphire will serve for a dining-table. Within five 
minutes nought is left but empty skin and clean-picked bones. 
Obviously any attempt to seek dead at a distance or to recover 
cripples is labour lost—once they drift, or swim, or dive, to the 
danger-radius instantly the chattel passes to the rival “sphere of 
influence.” 
As early as February (and sometimes even in January) the 
abounding coots begin to lay. The marsh-harrier notes the date 
and becomes a determined oologist. Over the everlasting 
samphire-swamp resounds the reverberating cry of the crested 
coot, Hoo, hoo, Hoo, hoo, so strikingly human that one looks 
round to see who is signalling. Presently you hear the same 
ery, but wailing in different tone and temper. That is a coot 
defending hearth and home against the despoiler ; and bravely is 
that defence maintained. With a glass, one sees the coot throw 
