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C. J. Cornish - The Naturalist on the Thames
black objects, which soon resolved themselves into the forms of duck and other fowl. Rather more than
seventy were counted, swimming on the water near the bank or sitting on the ice. These were the
self-invited wild duck, so tame that with very little trouble they were approached near enough for their
colour and form to be distinctly visible. The result of a look through the glasses was something of a
surprise. They were not mallard, teal, or widgeon; but three-quarters of the number were tufted ducks, a
diving-duck species, which haunts both estuaries and fresh water, but preferably the latter. It is a very
handsome little black-and-white duck, seen in great numbers on certain large lakes in Nottinghamshire,
and has greatly increased of late years in the county of Norfolk. But so far it has not appeared in any
numbers either on the Surrey ponds or in Middlesex, and its assembling on this London reservoir is a
remarkable proof of the tendency of wild-fowl to increase in this country.
The cock birds were in brilliant winter plumage, with large crests, white breasts, and white "clocks" on
their wings. Some were sleeping, some diving, and others swimming quietly. When approached, the
whole flock rose at once, and flew with arrow-like speed round the lakes and twice or thrice back over
the heads of their visitors, of whom they were not at all shy, being used to the sight of the man who keeps
the reservoirs' banks in order. They swept now overhead, now just above the ice, like a flock of
sea-magpies or ice-duck playing before some North Atlantic gale. As several birds had not risen, we
ventured still nearer, and saw that most of these were coots, some ten or eleven, which did not fly, but
ran out on to the ice. Two large birds remaining, which had dived, then rose to the surface, and to our
surprise and pleasure proved to be great crested grebes. These birds, which a few years ago were so
scarce even in Norfolk that Mr. Stevenson despaired of the survival of the species as a native bird, have
bred for three seasons in Richmond Park. But their presence so close to London shows that we need not
despair of seeing wild-crested grebes appear on the Serpentine. These birds are so wedded to the water
that they rarely fly. But this pair rose and flew, not away from, but towards us, passing within fifteen
yards. With their long necks stretched out, feet level with the tail, and plumage apparently painted in
broad, longitudinal stripes, they presented a very singular appearance.
The East of London owns a crowded wild-fowl sanctuary at Wanstead Park, which quite a different class
of ducks frequent. It is now the property of the public, and very carefully administered by trustees. The
lake there is very narrow and winding, which causes it to freeze easily. On the other hand, it is full of
long, densely wooded islands, some almost enclosing pools of water. These islands shelter the birds, and
when the lake is covered with ice the islands are crowded with wild duck and widgeon. Wanstead is a
curious example of the faith of wild-fowl in a sanctuary, for the lake is so narrow that you could toss a
stone among the fowl from the bank. Suburban houses are close by on all sides but the meadows by the
little river Roding. Yet the fowl come to the lake as confidently as they do to great sanctuaries like
Holkham. As there is a large heronry and rookery on the trees on the islands, the variety of life there is
very great. The writer saw in weather like that in the second week of February, 1902, about a hundred
and fifty wild duck, thirty or forty widgeon, a few teal, a pochard, and a great number of water-hens.
Mallard, teal, dabchicks, and moorhens breed there regularly, and in hard weather a number of rarer birds
drop in. Snipe are often seen by one of the shallower ponds, and occasionally such divers as goosanders
appear and give an exhibition of fish-catching. These, like the tufted ducks and grebes, are entirely
self-supporting. The wild duck are pensioners, being fed artificially, though they are wild birds, or
descended from birds which were wild, just as are the London wood-pigeons.
THE CARRION CROW
Those familiar with the valley of the Thames and with the wild population both of the riverside and of
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