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A DIARY OF ORNITHOLOGICAL OBSERVATION MADE 

 IN ICELAND DURING JUNE AND JULY, 1912. 



By Edmund Selous. 



(Continued from p. 74.) 



June 19th. — One of the notes of the Golden Plover is a sad 

 " pee-bier, pee-bier " (I prefer that spelling of the second 

 syllable), and no words can impart any adequate idea of the 

 protracted plaintiveness with which the last syllable is uttered. 

 It is as though the bird's whole spirit were one of sadness — of 

 pensive depression — which, however, it almost certainly is not. 

 Another — generally speaking, one may say the other — note at 

 this season is the single, melancholy " peep," equally in con- 

 sonance with the spirit, to our human senses, of the wild, waste, 

 and desolate scenes amidst which it is usually heard, merry as 

 the bird's heart may be within it at the time. 



Some time between 8 and 8.30 a.m. I saw the pair of Grebes, 

 which have not yet laid, far out on the lake. Five or ten 

 minutes later, on reascending the crest of the hill, I found that 

 one of them — the male, I believe — had come into the little nook 

 or corner where lake and stream join ; and here he seemed to 

 be waiting, almost stationary, upon the calm water (for it was a 

 still, cloudy morning) for the other to join him. In a few minutes 

 the female came diving up from the outer lake, and the two, 

 meeting, drew close to one another, and began to press eagerly 

 forward in the direction of the creek. It was exactly the way in 

 which they had come up it, before, to the nest, on which coition 

 had then taken place, and I expected a repetition of this. I 

 have little doubt that they had the idea in their minds, but all 

 at once they paused in what seemed their intent advance, 

 floated a little asunder, came close again, and after confronting 

 one another for a little in a hesitating manner, and once more 

 increasing the distance between them, both suddenly dived and 



