On the other hand, the great purple water-hens habitually do a bit robbery and murder on their own account, plundering the nests both of ducks and coots and devouring eggs or young alike. We shot one whose beak was smeared all over with yolk from a plundered duck’s nest hard by, and alongside the nest of a Porphyrio with five eggs (found May 1) lay floating the head-less corpses of two young coots. We have also observed similar phenomena alongside the nests of the coots themselves—doubtless attributable to the same cause. The eggs of the purple water-hen are lovely objects, ruddier and much more richly coloured than those of any of its congeners. These birds remain in the marismas all winter.
In the densest brake bred purple herons, but this part proved quite impenetrable to canoes. A few days later, however, at the Retuerta, we reached a little colony of three nests. A beautiful sight they presented, broad platforms of criss-crossed canes, cleverly supported on tall bamboos, and lined with the flowering tops of carrizos (canes). These three nests were close together (another or two hard by), were about five feet above water-level, and contained three, three, and four pale-blue eggs. While circling around their nests, the old herons showed a conspicuous projection beneath their curved necks. We therefore shot one and found the effect was caused by a curious “kink” or bony process on the front of the upper neck—as sketched.
Of other birds observed at this Laguna de Terajes may be noted a few mallard and marbled ducks, a pair of squacco herons (not breeding), common sandpipers (on May 8), and a party of whiskered terns which arrived while we were there.
The day we had spent among the marsh-birds at this sequestered lagoon happened to be the day of the general election and the usual excitement prevailed. Yet, as we journeyed down by the early train, we had read in the morning’s paper this paragraph: “An understanding” [Inteligencia]—“Yesterday an understanding was arrived at in Madrid between Maura and Cañalejas, by which the former is to hold 225 seats.” Why, after that, bother further with an election? ‘Twill serve as an object-lesson at home.
Another phenomenon of the Spanish marismas is the through-transit in May of that little group of world-wanderers that make a winter-home in the southern hemisphere—in South Africa and Madagascar, Australia, New Zealand, some even in Patagonia—and yet return each spring to summer in Arctic regions. These comprise, notably, but four species, and not one of these four, in our view, is excelled for perfect beauty of bright, chaste, and contrasted coloration by any other bird-form on earth. This quartette is composed of the grey plover, knot, curlew-sandpiper, and bartailed godwit—all four of which appear here in thousands every May, and all in summer dress.
Note, first, that these do not arrive in Spain (having come 6000 or 8000 miles but being still 2000 or 3000 miles short of their final destination) until long after all other birds—including several congeneric and closely related species—have already laid their eggs and many hatched their young. Also, secondly, that some of them begin to assume their spring breeding-plumage under autumnal conditions before quitting Australia in April—that is, the Australian autumn—and while yet some 10,000 miles distant from the points at which that breeding-dress is designed to be worn.
To the four named might properly be added other two species—the sanderling and the little stint. Our only reason for confining our remarks to the original quartette is that, in Spain, the transit of the other two is less pronounced and noticeable.
Last spring (1910), dry as the marismas were, we had these globe-spanners in thousands. They were extremely wild, and it was only by elaborate “drives” that we secured a few specimens.[68] We also observed in mid-May hundreds of black-tailed godwits, a species which usually disappears from southern Spain at end of March and which we have found nesting in Jutland before the above date, viz. the first week in May.
