I2.0 British Diving Ducks 
after day at the same hours in the same spot. When I used to shoot regularly in winter 
from Stromness in the Orkneys, I could always sail my boat directly to flocks of Long-tailed 
Ducks had I the mind to do so, and they were always feeding, generally at low water in the 
same tide-edge, about the same place. No amount of disturbance from shooting seems to 
teach them caution or to make them change their habits, for by nature they are confiding 
and easily approached. In November of 1891 a flock of about eighty immature Long-tailed 
Ducks took up their station about 300 yards to the north-east of the walls of Fort George 
in Nairnshire. I fired twice at them and killed six, which was all I required, and through- 
out December-February the officers and soldiers bombarded them regularly with gun and 
rifle until there were only some half a dozen left in March, and the remnant could always be 
seen about the same spot and in the same compact bunch till they left in the end of that 
month. By day adult Long-tailed Ducks are merry, restless creatures, constantly flying and 
calling to one another or diving in the shallows near the rocks or mussel banks. They 
often approach the shore, and I have several times killed them by running-in " on a 
flock and surprising them as they rose to the surface. Especially was this the case in the 
bay near Dornoch where I spent the month of December 1892. Here they would even feed 
on a lee shore where large breakers were dashing on the rocks. In such places they showed 
their wonderful skill as divers by always taking a header and passing through the wave just 
as it was about to descend upon them. They seem to have a sure instinct of the wave that 
will break and the wave that may be safely mounted, and I never saw one make an error of 
judgment. At twilight they took to flight and resorted to the open waters of the bay, being 
active all night and in the dark hours of early morning, as one could hear by their merry 
cries. They seem to have the greatest dislike to flying over land, however narrow the strip, 
and never fly high either on the sea or over the rivers and lakes of their summer homes. I 
have stood on the Bridge of Waithe at Loch Stenness, the only obstacle they have to cross 
between that brackish lake and the sea, and waved my arms at a flock that was approaching, 
yet they never flinched or tried to avoid my presence by flying over the necks of land 
on either side, but came on until they passed within a few yards. On the tortuous streams 
that flow into the Myvatn Lake, too, they will pass the intruder within a few yards rather 
than fly over the smallest projection of land. 
When resting the Long-tailed Duck sits very low on the water, with head more buried 
between the shoulders than any other species, and will drift or keep slowly paddling on 
the edge of the current or out in some quiet bay for hours without moving far. When 
alarmed the head and tail are both held up perpendicularly, and the males generally begin 
to call. If there is any swell they rise fairly easily, beating their long-pointed wings very 
fast, and looking somewhat like a Razorbill or Guillemot. They generally rise in a line, 
turning the body with quick changes from side to side, and seldom performing a flight 
that takes them directly away from the observer. Whether from curiosity or the habit 
of flying in semicircles they usually swing inwards towards an approaching boat, and 
thus give a gunner ample opportunity for shooting at them. This constant habit of 
swinging from side to side, showing first the breast and then the back, enables the 
spectator to recognise them at a great distance, and this, added to the fact that one male 
at least is constantly calling, renders them easy to identify. If suddenly alarmed and 
one part of a flock is already on the wing, the others, as they rise to the surface, will 
