I was not unacquainted with this species of water fowl, but at that time our Rinvoh did not possess them, and as then there were no restrictions against our doing so we resolved to await the appearance of the young brood which we would transport to Camariss[a:]. The brooding time being well advanced, on the morning of the third day of our waiting the birds exhibited much excitement, shaking themselves and uttering low cries, while, gazing into the nest from whence came a sound of continuous chirping. The parent birds were most devoted in their attention to their young; one or the other continually bringing them food and not for a moment were they left alone. On the morning of the third day of their advent, with her bill the mother lifted them one by one from the nest, dropping six downy little beauties into the shallow water, where they paddled about in apparent enjoyment. At sunset she carefully deposited them in the nest, hovering over them while her mate quietly, but alertly, watched by her side. The young birds grew prodigiously and in a few days were able to care for themselves and were no longer returned to the nest, but, with the parent birds rested in the margin of the lake. When old enough to be removed with safety, at nightfall I cautiously approached them and with a large net captured the entire brood. The frightened parents fled away in the darkness but soon they returned and finding their young gone their cries of distress resounded through the night. Their grief so appealed to my sensibilities that in the morning I returned to them two of the captives, over whom there was great rejoicing. In a commodious water receptacle the four young birds were conveyed to Camariss[a:] and placed in this Rinvoh. Later on I gave to the Rinvoh of Dao a pair of them. The mate of this lonely widower lived until three years ago, and now her prepared body graces a space in the Syffondû.