COLLECTING AT SHOAL LAKE, MANITOBA. 7 J 



him I proceeded to pack my specimens, and after refreshing 

 ourselves with Ducks' eggs beaten up in sugar, we drove away 

 from this spot to the farmhouse three miles away, where 

 our wants were attended to by the kind farmer and his wife. 



They inquired if we had seen any Moose at the Lake, for 

 on the day previous the farmer's wife, with one of her 

 daughters, was driving along the trail east of the Lake, when 

 a bull Moose and female with its young one got up out of the 

 Marsh, splashed through the water and ran off into the woods. 

 I told her I would have paid five dollars to see such a sight. 

 Moose are quite plentiful between Lakes Winnipeg and 

 Manitoba. 



We did not stay long at the farm, but drove twenty- eight 

 miles southward to Long Lake, talking most of the time over 

 our disagreeable experience of the day previous, and now, 

 although I am a thousand miles away from Shoal Lake, when 

 I open my cabinet and gaze on my series of eggs of White 

 Pelican, Cormorants, Gulls and Ducks, my memory takes me 

 back to one of the roughest times I ever experienced in North 

 West Canada. 



Toronto, Canada. 



The Chiffchaff. — It is Sunday morning. How peaceful all nature seems 

 as we wander by the stream gurgling between its deep banks, where the 

 KiDgfisher nests in the old water-vole holes, and the spotted trout lies under 

 the roots of the overhanging willow, in which the Wood-pigeons are giving 

 forth their soft notes, while every now and then they fly up with much 

 flapping and soar round, and after settling commence to "Ta too coo taphy " 

 with renewed energy, which is answered by the shrill whistle of the King- 

 fisher as he darts along the brook course like a flash of prismatic light. The 

 busy " caws" from the rookery near by lend a charm to the sounds, as we 

 slowly wend our way over the freshening turf. But hark ! That sounds 

 like — it is the Chiffchaff ! ! Once more those tiny wings have brought you 

 over the sunny land of France and into the Midlands of England, far from 

 your wintering place. Ah ! what tales you might unfold, of the gentle 

 breeze rustliDg through the dry grass, the herds of shapely antelopes, the 

 crouching lion, the forest swaying to the rush of the mighty elephant ! 

 Why should you leave that solitude for this smoky busy patch of land ? 

 Why risk the hardships and dangers of that long, long voyage over sea and 

 land ? But you are welcome with your oft repeated note, simple yet 

 pleasing, as it tells of soft and balmy days to come, when the Cuckoo wakes 

 the echoes of the grove with his mellow cry. You are the first to visit us 

 after the dreary winter days, and we are pleased to have you. " Chiffchaff, 

 chiffchaff," comes from the top of the high elm, as we wander along the 

 hedge sweet with opening violets, while the rattling song of the Chaffinch 

 follows as we reluctantly turn our steps homewards in one of March's most 

 glorious days. — J. R. Whitaker, Junr. (March 22nd, 1896.) 



