CHAP. XX1%.] SHOOTING WILD SWANS. 195 
thought of some of my assistant’s instruction which he had 
given me en route in the morning, and I imitated, as well as I 
could, the bark of a dog: immediately all the swans collected in 
a body, and looked round to see where the sound came from. I 
was not above forty yards from them, so gently raising myself 
on my elbow, I pulled the trigger, aiming at a forest of necks. 
To my dismay, the gun did not go off, the wet or something else 
having spoilt the cap. The birds were slow in rising, so without 
pulling the other trigger, I put on another cap, and standing 
up, fired right and left at two of the largest swans as they rose 
from the loch. The cartridge told well on one, who fell dead 
into the water; the other flew off after the rest of the flock, 
but presently turned back, and after making two or three grace- 
ful sweeps over the body of his companion, fell headlong, per- 
fectly dead, almost upon her body. The rest of the birds, after 
flying a sort distance away, also returned, and flew for a minute 
or two in a confused flock over, the two dead swans, uttering 
their bugle-like and harmonious cries, but finding that they were 
not joined by their companions, presently fell into their usual 
single rank, and went undulating off towards the sea, where I 
heard them for a long time trumpeting and calling. 
Handsome as he is, the wild swan is certainly not so graceful 
on the water as a tame one. He has not the same proud and 
elegant arch of the neck, nor does he put up his wings while 
swimming, like two snow-white sails. On the land a wild swan 
when winged makes such good way, that if he gets much start it 
requires good running to overtake him. 
Their feathers are so strong and they have so much down 
beneath the breast-feathers, that when coming towards you over 
your head, no shot makes the least impression unless you aim at 
their head and neck. 
If such constant warfare was not declared against these (now 
only occasional) visitors to this country, as well as against many 
others, our lakes and woods would have many more permanent 
winter and summer occupants than they have. I have no doubt 
that many birds who now only pass a few months here, would 
domicile themselves entirely if left in peace ; and swans, instead 
of returning to the deserts and swamps of Russia, Siberia, or 
Norway, would occasionally at least remain here to breed, and by 
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