Barrow's Golden-Eye 103 
the species was frequenting narrow rivers where it seemed very disinclined to rise in flight. 
In winter, both on the coasts of Iceland and in Greenland, it is said to be the shyest of all 
ducks and the most difficult to shoot, flying high, and taking alarm on the approach of man, 
even at a considerable distance. Both in Iceland and Greenland the species is locally 
migratory. A few remain all the winter on the Skalfandi Laxa, and south of this near the 
warm springs, which do not freeze, and about Gronavatn, but the majority repair to the 
coast in early November, and frequent the narrow bays of the north coast unless these 
are frozen. That they stay on the north coast about Husavik is proved by the fact that 
Mr. Schioler and myself have received many specimens from our collector, who killed them 
in the neighbourhood of Husavik in December and January. Some also stay about the 
mouth of the river that flows into Akureyri Fjord all the winter, unless exceptional 
conditions prevail, and I have no doubt they are found in many other sheltered 
bays on the north coast. Many Barrow's Golden-Eye also frequent the mouths of 
rivers on the south and east coast of Iceland in winter. Dr. Deichmann, who has spent 
six years in West Greenland, tells me that the breeding and the migratory range of this 
species is very restricted in that country, and that the birds, even in winter, never go much 
farther south at that season, but frequent the open fjords on the nearest sea-coast about 
Julianshaab, and as far north as Godthaab. The few emigrants that touch Newfoundland in 
winter are probably birds bred on the eastern fjords and rivers of Labrador. 
On the water the male of this species looks a larger, clumsier, and blacker bird than 
the Common Golden-Eye. It seemed to me that it sits higher on the water, and was a 
bird that commanded instant attention. In summer the males, which, when the ducks 
have begun to sit, consort in small parties of two to six, or more, are exceptionally tame, 
and will permit an approach to within a few paces, if the observer moves slowly to the 
banks of the river where they are feeding or resting. In rising to fly they are somewhat 
clumsy, and run along the surface with considerable splashing, but they did not seem to me 
to make nearly so much noise in flight as the common species. The "singing" or 
"ringing" note is heard, but it is neither so loud nor so metallic. On June 27th the 
males were still in their breeding dress. A few seem to keep on the river near the nesting 
females as if for form's sake, but the majority were resorting to the great lake of Myvatn, 
where the parties seemed to increase in size day by day. Females, with young, often 
floated past me whilst I was trout-fishing, and once I had to draw in my line to prevent 
hooking a too confiding mother. Whilst watching males on feed, it struck me that they 
were less expert than the Common Golden-Eye, and had more difficulty in getting under 
water. There was more noise and splash to get under, but once below the surface they 
seemed to be skilled performers of the highest order. I saw them more than once, from the 
high bank where my tent was pitched, feeding in exactly the same manner as the common 
species, turning over all the small stones, and probing beneath all large ones, and into holes. 
They stay less time under water in shallows than in the deep water of the lake, the time 
occupied being a half to one minute. On the river they reappeared again and again at the 
same spot, only pausing for a moment's rest and splash down again, whereas on the lake they 
would often keep moving forward in their dives, and take up a fresh position every time. 
They will stay and fish in very rough streams, edging into the current and out again as 
soon as they rise, but do not like such wild places as the Harlequin. The food seems 
