ORNITHOLOGICAL OBSERVATION IN ICELAND. i03 



one laboriously ascends the great mound, and disappears under 

 its mother. After a little interval the other two follow, and now, 

 at 2.15 p.m., the Swan is lying asleep, on the nest, with all four 

 •of them under her, her head pressed into the feathers of her 

 back, as probably she was before our arrival, though, when I first 

 saw her, she had her long neck upreared, the sign and token of 

 her vigilance. All at once, I see the partner Swan— the male as 

 I suppose him to be — out on the water. He floats idly upon it, 

 looking very graceful— a wild grace, differing a good deal from 

 that of our half-domestic species — and beautifully white. Gradu- 

 ally he goes in closer to the bank, which, before very long, he 

 ascends, and lies down close to the water's edge, amidst some 

 marigolds — that, at least, is what they look like — their gold and 

 his silver making a pretty combination — for there is something 

 silvery in the quality of the whiteness of Swans, both here and 

 at home, whether real or imaginary, merely, I do not know, but 

 always there is the suggestion. 



Both parents lie asleep, now, in the warm sun, the female on 

 her nest, and the male at some fifty yards' distance from it. The 

 cygnets, presumably, are asleep too, under their mother's 

 feather-bed ; it is pleasant to see that there is no more fear or 

 suspicion. This, however, returns shortly afterwards, for having 

 tried, without success, to find a point from which I can obtain 

 a different and nearer view of the Swans, I return to the old 

 place, but find it impossible to place myself exactly where I was 

 before. The birds, I suppose, catch a glimpse of my head, 

 though it is hardly raised a foot above the ground ; they seem 

 slightly uneasy, and the male goes out upon the water again. 

 However, as I keep quite still, with my back pressed against a 

 slanting turf-bank, above which my head does not now rise, he 

 soon ceases to be apprehensive, and begins to feed, after the 

 known and noted manner of Swans, stretching down his neck in 

 the water and throwing up his legs in the air. He continues 

 thus feeding till about 5, when he returns to the bank again, 

 and, standing in a shallow place, just off it, preens himself for 

 some little time. He then swims along, close to the bank, till 

 opposite the nest, stays there a little, as though talking to his 

 partner upon it, then returns, and swims out into the lake 

 again, where he feeds as before. At 6, or thereabouts, he comes 



