SIX MONTHS’ BIRD COLLECTING IN EGYPT. 95 
Coot within twenty-five feet, though there is no cord 
attached to the net. As soon as he has disappeared in the 
darkness we lie down again and wait the result; nor have 
we long to wait. Ona sudden the rush of many wings is 
heard. The affrighted Coots are up. He has made his 
cast: there is no longer any need for silence. His comrades 
in the boat make up the fire, and after throwing out a 
bundle of blazing reeds to show they have moved, pull 
rapidly towards the place the sound came from. We strain 
our eyes in peering through the darkness until in a few 
minutes we perceive him returning dripping wet, with the 
Coots alive in the net, having been absent little more than 
a quarter of an hour,—long enough all the same to freeze 
him to the very bones. They wrap the poor wretch ina 
“burnous,” and then he stands over the fire and literally 
steams. 
All night these sturdy fellows follow the working of the 
Coots with dogged perseverance if they go on feeding, but 
if the night is calm, Coots do not feed after twelve. Ona 
still night they sleep best, and then as many as 150 are 
sometimes caught. They have an ingenious mode of 
securing them by tying the tips of the wings together under 
the body in front of the legs. A fat Coot sells for a shilling, 
a thin one for a franc. I saw basketfuls on sale in 
Damietta, but I imagine a good many are consumed on 
board the boats, for near Geut-El-Nosara* quantities of 
wings were to be seen floating on the water, which had once 
appertained to Coots. I searched for the Crested Coot, but 
could not learn that such a bird was known. 
Before leaving the lake, we anchored against a small 
island which had been once a Roman station, for there were 
any amount of urns of all shapes and sizes, (but none of 
them perfect,) and bricks in squares, and hundreds of little 
® i.e. the Christians’ country,—the port at the west end of the lake. 
