194 
Mr. J. Wolley, jun., on the 
third egg to be placed between them. The nest, about two feet 
across, was nearly flat^ made chiefly of light-coloured grass or 
hay loosely matted together, scarcely more than two inches in 
depth, and raised only two or three inches from the general 
level of the swamp. There were higher sites close by, and many 
of them would have seemed more eligible. 
It was just at the lowest edge of the strip, but so much ex¬ 
posed, that I thought I should be able to see even the eggs them¬ 
selves from a spot at a considerable distance, to which I proposed 
to go. There was a common story amongst the people of the 
country, that a Crane, if its nest were disturbed, would carry off 
its eggs under its wing to another place; so I purposely handled 
one of the eggs, and hung up a bit of birch bark on a birch tree 
beyond the nest, as a mark by which to direct my telescope. 
Then I went with Ludwig to a clump of spruce growing on some 
dry sandy land which rose out of the midst of the marsh. Here 
I made a good ambuscade of spruce boughs, crept into it, got 
Ludwig to cover me so that even the Craned eye could not 
distinguish me, and sent him to make a fire to sleep by on the 
far side of the wood, with strict orders on no account to come 
near my hiding-place. I kept my glass in the direction of the 
nest, but it was long before I saw anything stir. In the mean 
time the marsh was by no means quiet; Huffs were holding 
something between a European ball and an East Indian nauteh. 
Several times “ keet-koot, keet-koot,” to use the words by which 
the Finns express the sound, told where the Snipes were. A 
cock Pintail dashed into a bit of water calling loudly for its 
mate. The full melancholy wailing of the Black throated Diver 
came from the river; watch-dogs were barking in the distance; 
I heard the subdued hacking of wood and the crackling of Lud¬ 
wig’s fire. It was already about midnight; Fieldfares were 
chasing each other through the wood; one came pecking about 
my feet, and another, settling on the branches that covered my 
back, almost made my ears ache with the loudness of its cries. 
I often heard the waft of known wings, but three times there 
sounded overhead the sweeping wave of great wings to which 
my ears were unaccustomed. I could scarcely doubt it was the 
Cranes’, but I dare not turn up my eye: I even once or twice 
