ORNITHOLOGICAL OBSERVATION IN ICELAND. 59 



There are, on this lake, which is long and narrow, two pairs 

 of Whooper Swans, one of which has two cygnets and the other, 

 I think, three. There is also another pair, presumably un- 

 cygneted, who fly, at intervals, up and down the lake, from end 

 to end, coming, I believe, from another beyond it, and returning 

 into this again. These flights are magnificent to witness (for a 

 Swan is as graceful, or at least, as lovely, in the air as on the 

 water), and they give rise to some strikingly beautiful scenes, 

 The two pairs of Swans belonging to the lake are always, with 

 their respective families, widely separated, whether on the banks 

 or the water — probably they share the ownership of both — and, 

 as the childless pair pass first the one and then the other of 

 them, both the parent birds send up loud, clear, ringing, 

 musical cries, probably (judging by what I have seen and 

 recorded in earlier entries) of protest and defiance. 

 " Yet it seems like a welcoming." 



There was one example of this in the morning, and there 

 has, just now, in the early afternoon, been another. In this 

 last, the first pair of cygneted Swans, as the strangers 

 sailed by, on rhythmically beating wings, confined them- 

 selves to melodious outpourings only, but one of the other 

 pair, not satisfied with this, flew out from the bank against 

 them, almost, indeed, engaging with one of them and turning 

 them both from their planned course. Having acted thus 

 worthily, it returned to its family, and a scene of rejoicing 

 then took place between the two parents which passes descrip- 

 tion. The cries came ringing over the water, and the glasses 

 showed the two lovely birds in a state of triumphant joyousness, 

 their wings, like four broad silver banners, gloriously waving, 

 and their proud necks upstretched. The cygnets, too, I thought, 

 were excited, but they were too much concealed behind the 

 bodies of their parents for me to see if they shared in their 

 actions. When the stranger pair flew by again — for they were 

 not to be permanently deflected — the same bird (presumably) 

 pursued them on their course, but its return was not made the 

 occasion of similar rejoicings. There were a few cries, indeed, 

 but they were much less powerful, and soon subsided, nor did the 

 two parents come close up to one another, as before. Fresh 

 energy, I suppose, required to be stored. 



