GREY-LAG GOOSE. 
JNSER FERUS. 
As far as I have been able to ascertain from personal observation, the Grey-lag Goose is the only 
representative of the family that remains with us a resident in a vild state throughout the year. Numbers 
of these birds rear their young in the more remote parts of Ross-shire, Sutherland, and Caithness, as well 
as on some of the Western Islands. Though proverbially one of the wildest of fowl during winter, those 
that nest on our shores lay aside their shyness until the young are able to provide for themselves. 
While crossing the moors in summer, I have now and then seen an old gander leave the cover growing 
near some small loch, and with outstretched neck attack any dogs that happened to be in attendance, 
the female at the same time being 'heard endeavouring to draw the young into some place of security. 
Such temerity, however, is only witnessed when surprised in an open spot ; as a rule, the brood is kept 
secluded in some scrubby undergrowth or about the outskirts of an impenetrable swamp during the day. 
To thoroughly explore the haunts of these birds and watch their habits and actions while feeding at 
daybreak or at dusk, one must be prepared either to camp out or to be willing to put up with such humble 
accommodation as is to be procured in the district. Having obtained permission from the lessee of an 
extensive shooting, I made an expedition to an unfrequented portion of his territory where Geese and 
many species of sea-fowl nested in almost perfect security. This happy hunting-ground, a range of several 
miles of rough moorland interspersed with numerous lochs, stretched dowm to the wildest portion of the 
rock-bound coast that overlooks the stormy Minch. An abridged extract from my notes for 1868 will 
give some idea as to the nature of the surroundings among which this species passes the spring and 
summer, as well as the somewhat primitive style of living to be anticipated by those who visit this part 
of the country in quest of sport. 
An early start was made from the inn at which we were stopping on the morning of the 28th of 
May, and after a drive of some twelve or fourteen miles a tramp of six more was necessary along a 
swampy track utterly impassable for our four-wheeled conveyance. Having engaged the services of four or 
five of the resident fishermen from some small hovels near the coast, our baggage, stock of blankets, 
eatables, and drinkables were transferred to their fish-creels, which, though imparting to the contents a 
powerful aroma of herring, proved admirably adapted for carrying heavy loads. The travelling being 
exceedingly heavy and the miles long, a couple of hours were expended in reaching the shealing that 
was to form our headquarters in this dreary region ; during the whole of our journey we had been 
exposed to a drifting mist and an occasional heavy downfall of rain. On arriving at our destination the 
interior of the edifice was ascertained to be somewhat dilapidated, and the purity of the atmosphere was 
by no means improved from the fact, unfortunately only too apparent, that shepherds and their dogs had 
recently sought shelter in the building. Some braxy mutton had been left behind, and the filth scattered 
about needed immediate removal, as the sanitary state of affairs was far from satisfactory. The fishermen 
