MARSH-HARRIER (_Circus aeruginosus_).--Over dark wastes resound "duck-guns sullenly booming." Thereat from reed-bed and cane-brake awaken roosting harriers, quick to realise the import. It is long before their normal "hours of business," but these miss no chances, and soon the hidden gunner descries spectral forms drifting in the gloom--all intent to share his spoils. Watch the robbers' methods. In the deep a winged teal is making away, almost swash. The raptor feints again and again, following the cripple's subaquatic course; but he never attempts to strike till incessant diving has worn the victim out. Then--so soon as the luckless teal is compelled to tarry five seconds above water--instantly those terrible talons close like a rat-trap. Next comes a lively wigeon, merely wing-tipped; but the water here is shoal and the hawk dare not close. For the volume of mud and spray thrown up by those whirling pinions would drench his own plumage. The wigeon realises his advantage and sticks to the shallow--the raptor ever trying to force him to the deep. The end comes all the same, though the process of tiring-out occupies longer--sooner or later, down drop the yellow legs--there is a moment of strenuous struggle and the duck is lifted and borne ashore. Should no land be near, the branches of a submerged samphire will serve for a dining-table. Within five minutes nought is left but empty skin and clean-picked bones. Obviously any attempt to seek dead at a distance or to recover cripples is labour lost--once they drift, or swim, or dive, to the danger-radius instantly the chattel passes to the rival "sphere of influence." As early as February (and sometimes even in January) the abounding coots begin to lay. The marsh-harrier notes the date and becomes a determined oologist. Over the everlasting samphire-swamp resounds the reverberating cry of the crested coot, _Hoo, hoo, Hoo, hoo_, so strikingly human that one looks round to see who is signalling. Presently you hear the same cry, but wailing in different tone and temper. That is a coot defending hearth and home against the despoiler; and bravely is that defence maintained. With a glass, one sees the coot throw herself on her back and hold the hawk at bay, striking out right and left, for she has powerful claws and can scratch like a cat. Often the assailant is fairly beaten off; or should the fight end without visible issue, probably the coveted eggs have been hustled overboard in the tussle. Then it amuses to watch the harrier's frantic efforts to recover the sunken prizes from the shallows. [Illustration]