jAs I was crossing Bensen 1 s pasture my attention was 
attracted by a light silvery whistling of wings and, looking 
up, I saw a pair of Black Ducks speeding low down over the 
land towards the Great Meadows. They were closely followed 
by a flock of four Golden-eyes whose wings made a similar 
but decidedly louder sound, and a few minutes later I saw a 
flock of four Black Ducks pursuing precisely the same course.; 1 
On reaching the causeway that crosses the swamp 
behind Ball's Hill, I stopped to listen to the Robins that 
were singing and calling all about me. Suddenly, almost at 
my feet, a Meadow Mouse started out from the bank and swam 
across a broad space of open water a foot or more in depth. 
It moved ’with great rapidity (certainly much faster than a 
Muskrat) and nearly its whole body seemed to be out of water, 
giving me the impression that it was running on tne surface 
rather than swimming 
