64 
NATURE NOTES 
of what was, many years ago, a cotton plantation, a number of 
parallel ditches, once used for draining the land, still testifying 
to its former cultivation. On the left the crab-grass stretches 
down to the sea-shore, giving place in one spot to a large shallow 
pool of sea-water surrounded by courida trees. In this pool 
there are about a dozen roseate spoonbills ( Phatalea ajaja ), which 
take fright as we approach and fly further away to the edge of 
the sea. Next a pair of vicissi duck ( Dendrocygna viduata) rise 
from the crab-grass and settle on some trees away to our right — 
for the vicissi, unlike most ducks, perches on trees — and soon 
after a “ crookbill ” (curlew) crosses our path. 
Every few yards we disturb a moth — a pyralid — from the 
crab-grass which has almost overgrown the narrow path on the 
top of the dam, and by watching where it settles and walking 
slowly and carefully towards the place we find it to be a most 
lovely moth about i| inches in expanse, pale green with a silky 
gloss, the front of the upper wing bordered with chocolate. At 
the end of five or six hundred yards we turn to the right and 
walk along one of the side dams of the old estate towards the 
road. Presently we come to sandy soil, and the crab-grass 
gives place to guelder-rose-like shrubs and further on to pasture 
land where a few goats and cows are getting a scanty living 
from the parched grass : half a mile away there are some wattle- 
and-daub cottages surrounded by small gardens, shaded by 
mango-trees and cocoanut palms, in which the coolie villagers 
raise what vegetables they require ; and, passing these, we regain 
the road just as the afternoon mail-waggon drawn by four mules 
passes on its way to New Amsterdam. 
C. Paton. 
AN OLD DUCK DECOY. 
OUR or five years ago an article of mine, called “ A 
Norfolk Rectory,” appeared in your pages. Since then 
the friend of whom I wrote has moved to another 
sphere of work and I have taken his place. The 
change suits us both, for he has larger scope for his energies and 
talents, while I am in a naturalist’s paradise. Below my house, 
some 200 yards off, there is a duck decoy that has fallen into 
disuse. It is a quiet, sheltered spot, and many a creature, not 
to be found everywhere, is to be seen there that delight the 
observer’s eyes. Immediately beyond the decoy, and separated 
from it by a mound io or 12 feet high, is the River Nar, the 
home of the gadwall, where resides many a lusty trout, and in 
whose well-preserved waters I am at liberty to throw a fly when- 
ever the spirit moves me. Here the dry-fly fisherman alone can 
hope for sport, for the trout are by no means unsophisticated, 
and he who would be successful in this difficult stream must be 
