IMPRESSIONS OF DENMARK. 
311 
at their breeding-stations ; even when they have young, 
they rarely come in shot, and but for the aid of “ Rolf ” 
we should not have obtained a single specimen. The 
sight of a dog prowling or swimming in their domains 
would occasionally induce them for one instant to hover 
a little nearer, and we thus secured two beauties, male 
and female, in full summer-plumage. 
Scattered here and there over these marshes were 
the “hills,” or stands of the Ruffs where one would see 
a dozen or more of these eccentric birds always 
assembled—apparently for the sheer love of fighting. 
Some “hills” were on dry ground, others on grassy 
islets surrounded by miles of squash-bog. Poling the 
flat-bottomed punt up the stagnant channels, we could 
enjoy watching these combats within five-and-twenty 
yards of the trampled battle-field. Nothing more 
grotesque can be imagined. A dozen Ruffs of a dozen 
different colours dot the patch of down-trodden grass; 
presently, with loud clap of a wing against his side, one 
darts at another, wings half-spread, feathers all on end, 
and the long ruff and ear-tufts erected to the utmost. 
The champions stand facing each other with lowered 
necks and drawn swords—not six inches apart—like 
game-cocks. For two whole minutes they stand thus, 
immovable: then there is a sharp pass—so quick one 
cannot follow it—and one of the combatants darts off, 
vanquished, at amazing speed. That particular affair 
of honour is over; but meanwhile two or three similar 
scenes have commenced, and over the whole “ hill ” there 
is incessant movement of rival Ruffs, marching and 
counter-marching, scuffling and scuttling. No Reeves 
visit the hill, but so enamoured of war are their lords 
