In one of Edward’s articles in the Zoologist, he thus refers to a circumstance which happened during one of the last excursions he took with his reverend friend. He is referring to the partridge (Perdrix cinerea). “A very cunning and faithful mother is the female; for when she has eggs, she never leaves her nest without hiding them so carefully that it is almost impossible to detect their whereabouts; and if you take her by surprise, away she hobbles on one leg, and a wing trailing on the ground, as if wounded! . . . Wandering about the Waggle Hill one day with my friend the Rev. Mr. Smith, I chanced to observe a moor-fowl squatted on the ground amongst the heather, close to my feet; in fact, I stood above her before I noticed her. Being summer time, I at once guessed the nature of the case. On my friend coming up, I drew his attention to the bird over which I stood. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘she’s surely dead, Mr. Edward.’ ‘Oh, no,’ said I; ‘there are eggs or young beneath her.’ ‘Well,’ he answered, ‘if so, it is certainly a very wonderful circumstance, but we shall see.’ Then, stooping down, he touched the bird, but she did not move. ‘She must be alive,’ he said, ‘because she is warm; but she must be wounded, and not able to rise or fly.’ ‘Oh, no,’ I once more said; ‘she has something beneath her which she is unwilling to leave.’ The bird allowed him to stroke her without moving, except turning her head to look at him. On my friend’s dog Sancho coming up and putting his nose close to her, she crept away through the bushes for some distance, and then took to flight, leaving a nest and fifteen eggs exposed to our gaze. Before leaving, we carefully closed up the heather again, so as to conceal as much as possible the nest and its beauteous treasure; and I need not say that we were both delighted with what we had seen. Mr. Smith was particularly struck with the incident, as he had never seen anything of the kind before; and he remarked, ‘I verily believe that I could not have credited the fact if I had not seen it myself,’ and he afterwards spoke of it with the greatest admiration.”
THE LOCH OF STRATHBEG.
Edward also numbered among his friends the Rev. Alexander Boyd of Crimond. It was through the Rev. Mr. Smith that Edward was first introduced to him. Mr. Smith was anxious that Edward should examine and observe the birds of Strathbeg, near which the village of Crimond is situated. Crimond is about thirty-five miles from Banff, ten miles from Peterhead, and about seven from Fraserburgh.
The loch of Strathbeg was at one time of limited extent. It was connected with the sea at its eastern extremity; but a hill of sand having, about the beginning of last century, been blown across the opening during a furious east wind, the connection between the loch and the sea was closed, and it became a fresh-water loch, as it remains to this day. The scenery in the neighbourhood is by no means picturesque; but the loch is very attractive to sportsmen, in consequence of the number of wildfowl that frequent it, or which breed among the islands and marshes at its western extremity.
THE REV. MR. BOYD.
The Rev. Mr. Boyd was the parish minister of Crimond. His hospitable manse was always open to Edward when he visited the neighbourhood. In one of Mr. Boyd’s letters to Edward, he said, “We have exactly the sort of room that will suit you, and you will be left at liberty to pursue your researches at your convenience; the room being so situated that you can go out or come in at any hour of the day or night, without any one being the wiser. There will always be something in the cupboard to refresh you before starting at daybreak, or when you come home at night, though every one in the house may be asleep. And you may continue with us the whole week, if you be so disposed. My coble will always be at your service, and I hope to be able to accompany you on some of your rambles, though I am not nearly so agile now as I have been. . . . Mrs. Boyd is now quite well, though she had a long illness after you were here;—and we have a young specimen of zoology to show you, which is worth all the rare birds of Strathbeg put together!”
The number of water-fowl that Edward found about the loch was very great. During winter time it was the haunt of birds from far and near, in prodigious numbers. In summer time it was the breeding-place of numerous birds of a different kind. The people of the neighbourhood say that “all the birds of the world come here in winter.” In angry weather, when the ocean is tempest-tossed, the sea-birds fly in, and, mingling with the natives, constitute a very motley group. The number of birds is so great that when a gun is fired they rise en masse, and literally darken the air, whilst their noise is perfectly deafening.
BIRDS AT STRATHBEG.
The swans are among the largest birds that frequent the loch. Edward found the beautiful White Hooper (Cygnus ferus), and the no less fair and elegant Polish Swan (Cygnus immutabilis). The geese were innumerable: the Bean Goose (Anser segetum), the Pink-footed Goose (A. brachyrynchus), the White-pointed Goose (A. erythropus), the Barnacle Goose (A. leucopsis), the Brent Goose (A. brenta), the Canadian Goose (A. Canadensis), and even the Egyptian Goose (A. Egyptiacus). The last mentioned was first detected by Mr. Boyd himself. In a letter to Edward, dated the 24th November 1853, he said—“One morning lately I was informed that there was a strange bird of the goose tribe in my mill-dam. I sallied forth with a telescope in one hand and a double-barrel, loaded with No. 1, in the other. I first took a leisurely look at him with the former at less than 100 yards distance, when I made the following observations:—Size and appearance that of a small wild goose; Head, brown and grey mixed; Back, rich brown, lightish; Breast and neck, grey; Tail, dark or black; Tips of Wings, ditto, and glossy; Legs and Bill, reddish; a dark ring round the neck, and a dark spot right on the centre of the breast. He was nibbling the tender grass on the dam banks. I then approached nearer. Instead of flying, he merely swam away to the other side of the pond, and seemed either very tired or else accustomed to the presence of man. I was quite within shot of him, but, from his tameness, I conjectured that he was some fancy animal escaped from a gentleman’s demesne. I then went for some corn, and scattered it on the banks, and as soon as I moved away he came to eat it. When startled, he generally makes a circuit of a quarter of a mile and returns again; but latterly he goes to the loch of Strathbeg all night and returns in the morning for his corn. I am afraid he will not be spared long, although I have sent word in several directions that he is not to be shot. I should be glad if he would become domesticated. I wish you would look over some of your books and tell me what he is. I have not seen a bird of the same kind before.”