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 Grebe will dive in the course of half a minute to a distance of two hundred feet. Its flight, too, when it thinks proper to take wing, is tolerably swift; it always proceeds in a straight line, and the whirring noise made by the rapid motion of its wings is audible at some distance. In its behaviour it seems to be the most circumspect and the shyest member of the family, and is not easily approached, more especially as it generally keeps in open water, where it can see to a distance. If surprised when in the vicinity of a bed of reeds, it immediately takes refuge among them, but only so long as to enable it again to plunge into deep water; if pursued it immediately dives, and when it comes up again to breathe, allows only its beak to appear above the surface, and as soon as it has taken breath dives again, until it has placed itself quite beyond the reach of danger.

The male and female are deservedly attached to each other. Should one of them accidentally stray to a distance, the other never ceases to call the wanderer back with anxious care; they generally swim about in close companionship, and often make their voice heard as they playfully caress each other. At the commencement of the breeding season each male zealously resists the intrusion of another pair within the area he has selected, so that where several pairs have taken possession of a piece of water, desperate battles are frequently fought, at the end of which the vanquished combatant has generally to have recourse to his wings in order to escape from the fury of the victor. It is only when the reeds and sedges have attained a certain height that a pair sets seriously to work upon the construction of their nest, which is always placed in the vicinity of a group of tall reeds or rushes, and frequently at a considerable distance from the shore. The nest, when constructed, is about a foot in diameter and six inches high, its cavity is extremely shallow, and it becomes gradually pressed flatter and flatter by the weight of the laying birds; even when completed, the fabric has very little the appearance of a nest, but rather resembles a heap of rotten weeds casually blown together by the winds, and left to float on the top of the water. It is wonderful that such a wet lump should bear the weight of the bird that sits upon it, and still more astonishing that it is not upset, as its occupant steps on and off a structure that possesses so little buoyancy. The normal number of eggs usually laid in this strange nest may be stated at four, sometimes there are five, sometimes only three. Out of seven nests examined by Holtz, four of them contained four eggs, one five, one three, and one two. The colour of the eggs is at first pure white, which soon, however, changes into a dirty yellow. The male and female sit upon the eggs alternately, with an unwearying assiduity, that in their case is indispensable, seeing that the eggs are actually half immersed in water; and on examining a nest from which the sitting bird has been recently driven, it will be found that not only the eggs, but the entire nest is warm throughout. Both manifest extreme attachment to their young brood; should a stranger approach, they hastily cover it up with weeds, and only retire to a little distance, returning to their charge so soon as danger has passed. It is asserted that if before incubation has commenced the eggs are abstracted one at a time, the female will lay twenty eggs or more in succession. As soon as the young are hatched, they are introduced by their parents to their proper element, and carefully defended, more especially by the male bird, who seems to take upon himself the duty of a sentinel. The nestlings are fed with insects and such small diet, at first put into their beaks, but afterwards only placed before them on the surface of the water. They soon, however, learn to dive in search of small fishes, and do not long require the supervision of their elders. The young, more especially at an early period, are elegant little creatures. "It is a treat," says Jäckel, "to watch the little family as now one, now another of the young brood, tired with the exertion of swimming or of struggling against the rippling water, mount as to a resting-place on their mother's back; to see how gently, when they have recovered their strength, she returns them to the water; to hear the anxious plaintive notes of the little wanderers when they have ventured too far from the nest; to see their food laid before them by the old birds; or to witness the