WOODLAND, FIELD AND SHORE Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from Boston Public Library http://www.archive.org/details/woodlandfieldshoOOpike Kingfisher. U WOODLAND, FIELD AND SHORE WILD NATURE DEPICTED WITH PEN AND CAMERA OLIVER G. PIKE AUTHOR OF -' IN BIRD-LAND WITH FIELD-GLASS AND CAMERA,' ETC. WHINCHATS NEST WITH TWO COLOURED PLATES AND lOl PHOTO- GRAPHS OF BIRDS, ANIMALS, AND INSECTS, TAKEN DIRECT FROM NATURE BY THE AUTHOR LONDON The Religious Tract Society i I ] si i?>^TEltNC/STER; R<3\y , and -^\ '^J \9^0^ '-65, ST.° PAIjVs birjKCflYARb' ' 1901 0^ ],, , ,1,^ ^. /^oZ t c c t c c c c c t c c &c c c c Preface IN Woodlaiid, Field, and Shore I ha\'e en- deavoured to describe and picture the every-day life of our British wild birds and their homes in the country side. Birds have not had exclusive atten- tion, however ; something about animals, insects, and flowers is also given where these are found to be of interest. For the most part my bird-land pictures have been obtained in the counties near to London ; others were secured farther afield, especially many of those relating to shore birds. Generally my de- scriptions of country scenes and incidents have been written in the open air while I have been waiting with my camera for subjects, or, at other times, when actualh^ rambling in the woodlands, the fields, or on the shore. People who have not practised birdsnesting with a camera can have no adequate idea of the time and patience needed to secure a set of pictures such as those which illustrate this volume. The photographs of birds alone represent nearly one hundred hours of 6 PREFACE waiting in hiding, not to mention many other days spent in vainly trying to photograph the owners of other nests which illustrate the following pages. Birds have been friends of mine since my earliest days, and I am never happier than when roaming about among their wild homes with field-glass and camera. My notes and observations on their habits have been taken at first hand from Nature, and at all hours of the day and night. In the collection of my photographs illustrating this book, I have to thank the following gentlemen for help and encouragement very kindly given : The Right Hon. Sir Charles W. Dilke, Bart, M.P. ; John Ford, Esq., J. P., of Enfield Old Park ; Richard Westrop, Esq., formerly of South Lodge, Enfield Chase ; Stanley Boys, Esq., formerly of Upper War- lingham ; Captain Otto Gurlitt, and F. W. Drake, Esq., of Winchmore Hill. In addition, I have been in- debted to various members of the North London Natural History Society, and a number of other friends, who are also bird-lovers, in the southern counties of England. I shall always be glad to hear of nests of rare birds ; or of opportunities for photographing birds at any time and in any part of the British Isles, O. G. P. Winchmore Hill, Middlesex. March, 1901. A HALWT OF THE KELsHANK [IJjW TIDK;. Introduction By the Rev. J. Monro Gibson, D.D. WHAT the painter does for the individual scene when he puts soul-tints into it and makes it smile and speak and open its heart to us, Mr. Pike does for universal Nature. With light and pleasant touches he shows its beauty in all its varying aspects, throughout the changing seasons ; for though he does not dwell on the winter, he assigns a chapter to the passing of it, and does not let it pass without disclosing its peculiar charm. He loves all that God has made, and has found it well worth while to spend hours at a time in 8 INTRODUCTION patiently watching, and accurately recording, the doings of some of the humblest denizens of wood- land, field, and shore. The birds are his peculiar delight, and before we have read many pages we are in love both with them and with him. We can fully sympathise with his eagerness to get a shot at them — with his camera. ' The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that take pleasure therein.' The pity is that in this busy age these ' all ' are so few. Our hope is that a book like this will greatly increase their numbers. Our great classic on the subject. The Natural History of Selborne^ has of necessity followed other classics to the library of the reader and the scholar ; but a simple little volume like this should reach a very much larger constituency ; and if my hopes are realised, it will stir the love of Nature in many a heart, be a choice companion in many a ramble, open many an eye to Nature's loveliness, and weaken many an ear to hear her melodies and harmonies, and above all kindle that spirit of adoration which is the soul's loftiest exercise, and supply that touch of tender interest which is the fount of intercession ; for true it is that ' He prayeth best who loveth best, All things both great and small ; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all.' Contents PAGE I. EIRDSNESTING WITH A CAMERA . . -13 II. SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE .... 27 III. THE PASSING OF WINTER .... 56 IV. EARLY SPRING IN A MIDDLESEX WOOD . . 67 V. ROUND AND ABOUT A SUBURBAN ORCHARD PART I., SPRING 78 VI. ROUND AND ABOUT A SUBURBAN ORCHARD — PART II., SUMMER 97 VII. A WOODLAND SCENE IN JUNE . . . IIO VIII. HARVEST-TIME IN- HERTFORDSHIRE . . 121 IX. LATE SEPTEMBER IN DORSETSHIRE . . r.31 X. AUTUMN IN BIRD-LAND 1 42 XI. BIRDS IN THE SNOW . . . ... 1 49 XII. A MIDDLESEX COPSE . . . . . 165 XIII. ROUND AND ABOUT A SURREY COMMON . 1 82 y 10 CONTENTS XIV. A MIDDLESEX BROOK XV. A SUMMER NIGHT IN THE WOODS . XVI. BUTTERCUP MEADOW XVII. A SUBURBAN PARK . . XVIII. NATURE ON THE KENT COAST . . . XIX. A PLEA FOR THE BIRDS . . . . INDEX PAGE 227 240 268 280 List of Illustrations KINGFISHER (Coloured Plate) . NEST OF LiiSSER REDPOLL (Coloured PAGE WHINCHAT's ^kS'V [Title-page) A HAUNT OF THE REDSHANK 7 BLACK-HEADED GULL . . 13 BLACK-HEADED GULLS LEAVING THE WATER SONG-THRUSH, PHOTO- GRAPHED BY MEANS OF ELECTRICITY A BLUE-TIT WHICH PIIOTc; GRAPHED ITSELF WHINCHAT's NEST PHOTOGRAPHING GOLDFINCH'S NEST WITH AN IMPROVISED TRIPOD .... NORFOLK PLOVER'S NEST EGGS AND YOUNG OF RINGED PLOVER .... redshank's NEST. EGGS OF THE KENTISH PLOVER .... EGGS OF KENTISH PLOVER . LAPWING'S NEST AND EGGS . NEST AND EGGS OF COMMON TERN 47 LITTLE TERN SITTING . . 49 EGGS OF LESSER TERN . . 51 BLACK-HEADED GULL'S NEST 53 WHEATEAR'S NEST . . 54 blackbird's nest . . 69 the scared rabbit . . 71 robin's nest ... 72 Plate 15 19 Frontispiece To face page 107 PAGE site of greater spotted woodpecker's nest. . 76 garden-warbler's nest . 79 orange-tip butterfly . 83 green-veined white but- terfly asleep on grass stem .... garden-warbler sitting whitethroat's nest . mole .... mole burrowing thrush's nest in rhub.\ri clump cuckoo's egg in green finch's nest cuckoo's egg in pied wag tail's nest pied wagtail sky-lark at home YOUNG willow-wren . site of tree-creeper': NEST .... COAL tit's NEST . YOUNG BLUE-TITS IN NEST RED-ADMIRAL BUTTERFLY RED-ADMIRAL AT REST HUMBLE BEE ON THISTLE FLOWER SPIDER .... TORTOISESHELL BUTTERFLY starling's NEST . 94 99 lOI 104 106 112 114 116 117 119 119 120 130 132 135 12 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A FAVOURITE HAUNT OF SWIFTS — DORSETSHIRE SAND-MARTINS' NESTING- HOLES. SPARROWS ROBIN, MONARCH OF ALL HE SURVEYS DEFIAtsCE, — COCK ROBIN ABOUT TO FIGHT GREAT TIT . BLACKBIRD (HEN) . BLACKBIRD (MALE) SONG-THRUSH FEEDING MOOR-HENS FEEDING IN .- SNOW-COVERED MEADOW SPARROWS MOOR-HEN IN THE SNOW WOOD-PIGEON'S NEST . NIGHTJAR AND YOUNG . YOUNG NIGHTJARS SITE OF goldfinch's NEST goldfinch's nest wood- wren . linnet's NEST CIRL BUNTING'S NEST . TURTLE dove's NEST . JAY'S NEST . STONECHAT'S NEST WATER-VOLE . water-vole's NEST IN REEDS KINGFISHER AT HOME PREPARING FOR A NAP SITE OF KINGFISHER'S NEST KINGFISHER, SHOWING THE BEAUTIFUL PLUMAGE ON HEAD AND BACK MOOR-HEN'S ROOSTING-NEST SEARCHING FOR LITTLE grebe's NEST . HAUNT OF THE LITTLE grebe .... ON IN PAGE REED-BUNTING (HEN) 138 REED .... YOUNG WHITETHROATS 140 NEST ..... 231 150 tree-pipit's nest . . 232 nest of bullfinch . . 234 152 greenfinch's nest . . 235 young song-thrush . . 237 154 stag beetle . . . 239 156 home of the kestrel . 242 159 flower-pot under which 160 a pair of great tits 161 built their nest . . 249 the nest disclosed . . 249 162 site of tree-sparrovv's 163 NEST 251 164 YOUNG TREE-SPARROW AT 167 ENTRANCE TO NESTING- 169 HOLE 252 170 FLYING ACROSS THE WIND 174 —BLACK-HEADED GULLS . 256 177 A FLIGHT ROUND— BLACK- 187 HEADED GULLS . . . 257 189 A NECK-AND-NECK RACE — 190 BLACK-HEADED GULLS . 258 191 GOING DOWN WIND — BLACK- 193 HEADED GULLS . . . 259 195 BLACK-HEADED GULLS AT 198 HOME 261 BLACK-HEADED GULL 200 HOVERING .... 263 BLACK-HEADED GULLS 203 LEAVING THE WATER . 263 206 BLACK-HEADED GULLS WAITING FOR BREAKFAST. 264 BLACK-HEADED GULLS . . 265 209 FLYING AGAINST THE WIND 213 --BLACK-HEADED GULLS . 266 HEDGE-SPARROW FEEDING 215 YOUNG .... 269 chaffinch's NEST . . 275 216 LITTLE TERN SITTING . . 279 Woodland, Field, and Shore Birdsnesting with a Camera IRDSXESTIXG with a camera has now become so popular with amateur photographers and bird lovers that some remarks on how best to ' shoot ' our game may be useful to novices. It matters not what size the camera used may be. A good, sharply focussed small negative makes as good a picture when enlarged as larger ones taken direct. Some of the most effective bird-pictures I have seen were taken with a quarter-plate camera. Perhaps the best all-round size is a half-plate. The camera should be one that can be focussed at the back, while the front is fixed ; for nothing is more annoying than to find that after say an hour being BLACK-HEADED GULL. 14 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE occupied in fixing the apparatus before a nest, the whole has to be moved farther away. This will often happen if a camera is used that has to be focussed by racking out the front. The lens should be one of large aperture, and possessing great depth of focus. The one I like best out of many I have tried is the double anastigmat, new series, made by C. P. Goerz. This combines the most extreme rapidity with splendid covering powers at the largest aperture — F. 5*5, and is a really satisfactory all-round lens for naturalist photographers. With a Goerz double anastigmat working at F. 6*8, I have obtained some perfect photographs of flying birds with an exposure of gJo of a second on a dull February day. It is very necessary that a silent shutter should be used. One working behind the lens should be chosen ; but the best plan is to have it inside the camera, if possible, as then there is no likelihood of a timid bird being scared by any movement. The most efficient shutter for time and slow exposures is the Thornton-Pickard time and instan- taneous pattern : if one of these is fitted inside the camera, with a thick padding of velvet between the shutter and camera front, there will hardly be any perceptible noise when the shutter is re- leased. Mine has been in almost daily use for four years, and works as well now as when I first BIRDSXESTIXG WITH A CAMERA 15 had it. The majority of bird photographers make it a rule to give very fast exposures, but this is a great mistake. Do not set your focal-plane shutter at 3-J0 of a second when photographing an innocent little Blue Tit or Robin. The former is a very restless bird, yet if a perfectly silent shutter is used an exposure of jV of ^ second will give more perfect results. I have photographed one w^alking llack-hi;al)i:l) wills !,i;a\'ix(; the watkk. (exposure uliTj SECOND.) along a* branch with an exposure of about yV of a second. With a very rapid exposure a hard negative is produced, unless the plate is very care- fully developed ; and really there is no need to set a silent shutter at a high speed. Where the shutter makes enough noise to startle a bird, an exposure of not less than ^^ of a second must be given. Of course the foregoing remarks do not refer to flying birds, in the case of which an exposure of ^-q of a second is the slowest that i6 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE should be used. Small birds require a much more rapid exposure than large ones, for the smaller the bird the quicker the wings are moved. A focal- plane shutter must be used for such subjects ; there are many in the market now, and I have used several, but none in my opinion are as good as the ' Anschutz.' For ease of altering the slit, reliability in exposure, and silent working this is the best. It is annoying to have a shutter ' go wrong ' at the critical moment, and unless a good make is used this is likely to happen. Undoubtedly the most useful contrivance for bird work is a 'gun-camera.' In my recently published book, I/i Bird-Land, I give a description of the one I use. The most important point in mine, which I made for the most part myself, is being able to focus the object while the sensitive plate is in position ready for exposure. This result is obtained by an arrangement of mirrors inside the camera. At the instant of exposure these are put out of action, allowing the light from the lens to pass through, and at the same time a focal plane shutter passes across the plate. With these mirrors a lens of any focus can be used, and one is not compelled to use a special lens, as is the case with gun-cameras used by some other bird photographers. A gun-stock is utilised as being the most convenient thing for the camera to rest upon. , BIRDSNESTING WITH A CAMERA 17 There are many ways of releasing the shutter. The pneumatic tube is the most popular ; but one great objection to this is the time the air-wave takes to travel along a lengthy piece of tube, so that the bird is found to be in a different position when the plate is developed from what it was when the ball was pressed. If the ball and tube are perfectly air-tight, this can be overcome by filling the tube with air so that the shutter is almost released ; then, if the ball is screwed on with this pressure in the tube, the slightest pinch of the ball will set off the shutter. The tube can be filled by pressing the ball and then pinching the tube just above it, so preventing the air from returning. If the ball is now taken off and allowed to fill with air, and screwed on again, two charges of air are in the tube instead of one. Another plan is to have a small hole in the ball and to place a finger over this when it is squeezed ; then, by preventing the air from returning in the way mentioned, the ball can be refilled without taking it off. I have exposed plates in this way with a great length of tubing. Another method is to use string. This is a capital way of exposing the plates, as any length can be used, the only objection being that the shutter has to be outside the camera. I have used about one hundred and fifty yards of string successfully in a large field. It is rather annoying, however, when 2 i8 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE a horse or a cow insists on feeding near, and by touching the string sets off the shutter. I once had a horse get confusedly mixed up with such a string- connection, the result being that the cord was broken and the plate exposed. I have now overcome all objections raised against pneumatic, string, and other connections. My friend Mr. Seamer and myself have made an electric SONG-THRUSH, PHOTOGRAPHED UV .MEANS OF ELECTRICITY. release. It had been my desire for some time to have such a thing, but it is only recently that I have made it a success. There are great possi- bilities in store for bird photographers who use electricity, and no one who engages in this work will be able to afford to do without it, if he wishes to get the best pictures of our wildest birds. Any BIRDSNESTING WITH A CAMERA r length of wire can be used, and the most important characteristic of the electric release is that the ex- posure is made the instant the button is pressed, so that no time is lost, as is the case with string or pneumatic connections. I have now perfected my shutter, so that a bird practi- cally takes its o w n photo- graph b \' means of elec- tricity. Food is placed on a branch, or on the ground, by way of attrac- tion, and when a bird alights near, the wires are connected by the bird's weight and the exposure is made. Several good pictures have been secured in this w^ay. I have also another convenient arrangement for placing in the nests of birds, so that when the owner returns and sits on her eggs, she will also A BI.LE-TIT WHICH PHOTOGRAPHED ITSELF. 20 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE unconsciously connect the two wires, and so expose the plate. For very timid birds, which are difficult to approach, this will be a wonderful aid in obtain- ing their pictures. I am quite sure all bird photo- graphers who use this new device of mine will be satisfied with the results. By an arrangement of wires I hope to secure photographs of some of our wild animals and nocturnal birds. Many of these leave their holes or other places of hiding and feed during the night. In the case of animals the wires will be placed in their 'runs,' or food put in certain places to attract them., and when the animal passes this spot it will first connect two wires which will open the shutter by means of the electric release, and then. a charge of special magnesium powder will be fired and the shutter will close. All this will be unconsciously performed by the animal. People who have not much time at their disposal, and who want to secure photographs of birds at their nests, or feeding their young, will be able to get such pictures without waiting. The camera may be put in position in the morning, and when the photo- grapher returns in the evening from his work he will probably find the plate exposed and have a good picture of the bird. If a bird were to sit on its nest for, say an hour, there would be a great waste of electricity, and the release on the shutter BIRDSNESTING WITH A CAMERA 2t would become heated. To prevent this difficulty a piece of very thin wire is f a s t e n e d to the accumu- lator, and when the wires are connected this melts and so breaks the cir- cuit. The elec- tric release can be fitted to al- most any make of shutter by Messrs.Seamer Bros., of En- field. A follower of this sport has much in common with a scout : he must endea- WHINXHAT his ' enemv ' without beino; seen, 22 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE or so to approach as not to cause alarm. If the aim is to get a picture of a bird on its nest, it is as well a few days beforehand to place a heap of rubbish in the place where the camera is to be hidden, otherwise the bird will probably be scared by an obstruction so near its home. My own ex- perience proves that it is better for the operator not to be with his camera unless there is a good natural hiding-place near. A camera covered over will sometimes make a formidable-looking heap, and this is quite enough to keep many birds from their nest, and more so if the naturalist hides with his apparatus. A cloth about forty inches square, khaki-colour on one side and dull green on the other, is a good thing to carry as a focussing cloth. It can be used to cover the camera before hiding the whole with weeds, rubbish, etc. The khaki side will be found the most useful to use in winter, as it harmonises with the dried grasses and dead plant stalks, the green being more useful in spring and summer. Of course when the camera is hidden near a nest on the ground in this way, the tripod is dispensed with, a small mound of earth or a few sticks being used instead. When wanting to photograph a nest in a tree, the tripod should first be taken up and fixed as near as possible in the position desired ; the camera can then be BIRDSNESTING WITH A CAMERA 23 fastened on. By doing this much time will be saved, as well as ruffling of temper : a heavy IL^- PHOTUGKAl'HI.XG GULDl-l.NCll i :,]_; I W'l'liL I:2KD TKll'ulJ. camera with tripod attached is a difficult thing to fasten to a swaying tree. Several photographers have asked what plates I 24 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE use. For all my work I use Cadett plates. I have no hesitation in saying that the Cadett Special Rapid is the best plate in the market for general bird photo- graphy. For photographing nests, birds feeding their young, etc., I use Cadett Special Rapid ; and for more rapid work, such as flying birds, Cadett Lightning. A changing bag is better and less bulky than a number of slides : one very soon becomes accustomed to changing plates by touch. A very necessary thing for bird photographers to have, is a pair of good field-glasses ; without these it is hard to see when a bird is in the right position, when one is some distance from the camera. I like the prismatic binoculars better than the ordinary pattern of field glass ; one great advantage being that a very high power and large field are obtained in an instrument no larger than a pair of opera glasses. With my glasses — the Goerz Trieder-Binocular No. 30, 9 x , I have been able to distinguish sea-birds on their nests two and a half miles away ; at a distance of a quarter of a mile a bird the size of a Sparrow can be recognised. No better aid for observing such far-away objects can be obtained or desired. A love for sport is inbred in the English people, and those who have photographed birds can testify that this work is a very exciting sport at times. Who does not remember his first gun, and the BIRDSNESTING WITH A CAMEEA 25 feelings of delight with which he explored the fields, intent on slaughtering the first luckless bird which crossed his path, just ' to see how it would kill.' And then, if w^e happened to 'drop' our game at the first shot, how satisfied we were with our new w^eapon, and how keenly w^ere future days anticipated with our gun ! Feelings akin to these are experienced by the bird photographer w^hen, after a lengthy stalk with his gun-camera, he at last succeeds in obtaining a picture of a bird which has been patiently followed. The fascination of thus hunting wdth a camera grows upon one ; and a day with field-glass and camera is as eagerly looked forward to as a good day's sport with guns and dogs on ' the glorious first.' The modern naturalist crawling stealthily through a thick reed- bed or woodland copse, equipped with his camera, is only following that instinctive love of sport which characterised the ancient Briton as he stole towards his wary game, with bow and arrow, in the virgin forests of England. One of the chief things which bird photographers must learn to put up with is disappointment ; but then, with patience and perseverance, success is sure to come ; and when the wariness of a shy bird has been overcome, and a good picture is obtained, disappointments are more than counter- balanced by success. If we even return without 26 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE one negative, the day has not been wasted ; for the countryside always offers something to see. Especially when lying hidden waiting to photograph a bird, we see more of the ways of our wild feathered friends than when wandering in lanes and fields. It is well for all beginners who take to birds- nesting with a camera not to go into the fields expecting to return with photographs that will * stagger humanity.' In such a case they will probably come back disappointed, and give up the work in disgust. Be satisfied with small results at first, and better and more valuable pictures will follow in due course, in proportion as more is learnt about the haunts and homes of our wild British birds. 11 Some Birds of the Shore ON some parts of the south coast of England, the sea has been gradually, and in some instances much more rapidly, receding for very many years. As the water slowly, but surely, falls back, the waves leave a wide barren tract of shingle. Villages which at one time were only a short distance from the rolling waves are now found several miles inland, the case being similar to what has occurred in regard to ancient sites on the shores of the Mediterranean. Even lighthouses, which are quite modern buildings, are in some cases several hundred yards distant from the billows which of old were wont to wash around their base. Let readers picture in their minds a wide area of flat land, covered as far as the eye can reach with stones, washed and so worn round by the action of water countless ages ago. Dotted about this expanse are here and there little patches of green ; and, on closer inspection, these prove to be 27 28 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE clumps of sea-holly. In other places, but much more widely separated, are small groups of furze bushes, the yellow flowers giving a brighter or more enlivening aspect to the otherwise monotonous scene. With the exception of these, and a few straggling roots of sea-campion, and occasionally a small patch of half-starved looking grass, there is nothing to be seen but stones. It is a desert on a smaller scale than the Sahara, relieved in places by oases, and with the unceasing music of the wild waves going on beyond. This is not quite the kind of ground which one would expect visitors or naturalists to frequent ; but, in point of fact, the majority of our most famous ornithologists have visited this stony waste in order to study the habits of one of the most rare of British breeding birds — the Kentish Plover. It is with no little difficulty that an ordinary landsman can walk about this rough surface, or ancient bottom of the sea, especially when one is laden with a heavy camera and its necessary appli- ances. The fishermen of this part of the coast have overcome difficulties in regard to locomotion, how- ever, by using what they expressively call back- stays. These are made of pieces of board about eight inches long and five inches wide. The corners of one end are rounded, while a loop of leather SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 29 is placed over the board about three inches from that end ; the boot is slipped under this, and by- shuffling forward a man accustomed to back-stays can progress over the shingle with comparative ease. The exercise is somewhat awkward to a novice, however, and is especially so at first Thus, when a ridge of stones has to be crossed, he will often, just when nearly on the summit, find himself discomfited by his back-stays sliding down again. Practice alone makes perfect in such walking. Then, when a number of people are walking together with this novel kind of foot-gear, the general effect is an indescribable noise. First there is the rolling of the stones as one foot is pushed forward, and then the heel of the boot coming down with a flap on to the board as the other foot is made to follow. Owing to this peculiar action and the noise thus made, we sug- gested that 'flappers' might be a more appropriate name than back-stays for such an ingenious con- trivance. Such, then, is this ancient ocean floor, and such those who laboriously traverse its difficult surface. On this great flat, or sea of shingle, many species of birds are found to have their nests, and here they rear their broods. The greater part of these, however, really build no nest at all ; they merely lay their eggs in a slight depression in the 30 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE stones, and in such an exposed situation sit their time. It is also a fact that the eggs of such birds are not readily distinguished from their strange surroundings ; and on this account are very difficult to find. I found that it was almost impossible to discover them by mere searching ; the more successful plan is to lie down on the shingle, and with field- glass at hand, to wait patiently for any movement which might take place in the vicinity. Once or twice a hare roused false hopes as it slowly passed along on the stones On a cold spring day we were lying behind a small clump of sea-holly waiting, and in hope that a Norfolk Plover might in time make its appearance. VVe were sure that a nest of this species was not far away, as our guide, Mr. Austen, had seen a bird near to the spot. The place where we expected to see the bird was about one hundred yards on one side. We waited a long time, however, and did not see it, but on our rising and standing above the bush a Norfolk Plover was seen to leave its nest, and then, with head bent low, to run swiftly away. Not noticing the bird or its actions, we watched the place which it had left, and walking forward, were at last rewarded by finding the nest shown in my illustration. When we were looking at the two handsomely marked eggs the Plover herself was seen far off running along a ridge of ""If^^l ->zs:'C- ^4 v>^:2" V J "^.'t^S^^ NORFOLK PLOVER S NEST. 32 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE stones, as it seemed, against the sky-line. The Norfolk Plover is a large-sized bird, measuring about sixteen inches in length, and when swiftly on the move seems to remind one of a miniature Ostrich. The eggs were laid in a hollow in the shingle, near a group of furze bushes, and it seemed as if a foundation of dead furze wood had been collected to form a slight nest — although, as a rule, they are laid on the bare shingle. My photograph shows these pieces of wood, and they look as if they had been arranged by the bird, for they all point inwards and form a ring round the eggs. The two eggs, slightly over two inches in length, were of a yellow-brown ground colour, boldly marked with deep umber blotches and pale grey under-markings. When darkness envelopes the land a nervous person might be seriously disconcerted by hearing many loud and weird calls resembling the cry of cour-li, co2ir-lL These are no other than the notes of the Norfolk Plover or Stone-Curlew ; and it will readily be believed they have scared many persons on dark nights, while they have also given rise to sundry superstitious opinions and reports among the country folk of that part of the coast where they are most commonly heard. The cry is heard chiefly at nipht, and when the moon is shininf^ brightly they are more noisy. Several times I SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE ^s heard one cry during sunlight, although this is not usual. The Ringed Plover is a much smaller bird than the Stone-Curlew, but is very much more interesting to an ornithologist, as it more readily allows a near approach. We found a nest containing two eggs and two young near a piece of wreckage cast up by the sea. We were making for a small hut on the shore when one of us trod on something soft, and discovered, too late to save its life, that it was a young Ringed Plover : fortunately the eggs and the other young one escaped. If that is possible, the young brood really resemble their stony sur- roundings even more than the eggs are found to do. The fledglings are pretty, fluffy little creatures, and being very timid make an effort to crawl away as soon as any one approaches. While we were setting up our camera, one of the parent birds was seen to be running towards us, and then pretended to be badly wounded, in hope of attracting us farther away from the nest. As we did not appear to take much notice, she ran a little nearer, and then laid herself on the ground with one wing hanging ap- parently useless, as if broken. Next she got up and ran round us in an excited state, all the time uttering a little plaintive cry, p2i-li. Her mate arrived from somewhere, and joined her in these determined en- deavours to attract us from their home. 3 34 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE I have photographed nests in all kinds of difficult positions — at the tops of trees, on cliffs, and in deep water — but never have I ex- perienced so much trouble in order to obtain a good picture, as when photographing the nest of the Ringed Plover. This was mainly owing to wind and rain. The eggs were laid not very far from the shore, and a strong gale was blowing from the sea. Great waves were dashing in on the shingle and sending showers of spray in all direc- tions ; and, added to all this, a heavy storm-cloud was also comingiup,'^ which made the light unfavourable, and the (picture consequently needed long exposure. EGGS AND YOUNG OF RINGED PLOVER. SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 03 We were obliged to hold the camera, otherwise it would without doubt have been blown away. The legs of the tripod were driven into the shingle as far as was possible, and one held on so as to try and steady it. Two of our party stood on the windward side and shielded the camera by holding a cloth to catch the wind, and all three standing shoulder to shoulder waited for a lull in the gale which might admit of an exposure being given. At last the lull came, and a picture was obtained, but not before the rain commenced to pour down in torrents. Luckily an inviting fishing hut stood near at hand ; and in that we took shelter until the storm had spent its force. Near the small tow^n on the margin of the shingle there is a large military camp. The great plain stretching away from this settlement on three sides offers good facilities for most effective artillery practice. It is not an uncommon thing to come upon large holes, showing where shells have struck and exploded. One might reasonably suppose that the constant firing of heavy guns, with their thunderous reports, would have the natural effect of frightening all birds away from the entire neighbourhood ; but this is not the case. When certain kinds of birds have chosen a place for nesting, it takes a very great deal of inconvenience and alarm to keep , them from laying their eggs 36 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE on their selected site. Two years ago a Norfolk Plover laid her two eggs, and successfully reared the brood, within one hundred and twenty yards of a target at which several shells were fired daily. To judge by the large holes in the shingle which the exploding shells had made, there must have been no slight commotion near this Stone-Curlew's nest. A few pairs of Redshanks breed on this barren plain ; we were fortunate enough in finding one nest in a low clump of furze. A piece of shell weighing several pounds was lying within a few inches of the eggs, and this is plainly seen in the picture. In the centre of the four eggs was a stone which had worked itself through the thin layer of grasses forming the bottom of the nest. The Redshank always brings to my mind a certain February evening on the mud flats of the Essex coast. We were waiting with our guns on the banks of a creek for wild ducks. It was low tide at the time, and the crisp frosty air had given the shining mud a thin layer of ice. Flocks of Curlew kept flying past us down the creek, plainly discernible in the brilliant moonlight, uttering their weird cries. Redshanks, however, were the most attractive, with their musical whistle, which was repeatedly uttered. At intervals the ducks came over, sometimes out of range ; but a well imitated SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 37 quacking- brought them towards us, and the loud reports of the guns echoed down the creek away to the sea, and then rolled back again in a muffled murmur. It was like living in a new world to _^j ^ ^.■*, REDSHANK S NEST, WITH A PIECE OF SHELL ON THE LEFT. find oneself in such a place so soon after leaving the streets of London. Here, beneath the star- strewn heavens, perfect stillness and harmony reigned, the silent brilliance of the winter night being disturbed only by the wild cries of night 38 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE birds or the reports of guns as the ducks came over. There is a fascination in such sport that is only known to those who have tried it, and which cannot be expressed in writing. On different parts of the shingle there are telegraph poles with wires connecting the various military stations, and underneath these wires dead birds are often found. These have fallen victims to the appliances of our modern civilisation. In foggy weather they fly against these wires with such fatal force as sometimes to cut off a wing or otherwise maim themselves. We picked up a Redshank with its head missing ; and the un- fortunate bird was lying about thirty yards from the wires. Such mishaps afford some idea of the swiftness of the ordinary flight of such birds. The wing of a Common Tern was also found, and Austen mentioned that he had seen Terns with both legs cut off, others with one wing missing. As previously mentioned, this large stretch of shingle beach is the breeding haunt of the Kentish Plover. On the average only about fifteen pairs successfully rear their broods during each season. A very high price is given by collectors for a clutch of these Plovers' eggs ; but, owing to the great difficuty in discovering them, the birds are happily not at present in any danger of being exterminated. I am pleased to be able to say SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 39 that last spring (1900) both the Kentish Plover and Little Tern were on the increase, more young being reared than in previous seasons. What collectors need to realise is, that it is a national loss, and not a mere sentimental grievance, for such birds to become extinct as a British breeding species. :i>'2-r.' EGGS OF THE KENTISH PLOVER. WHERE ARE THEY? We walked about three miles over the roughest shingle, beneath a blazing hot sun, in order to try to find a Kentish Plover's nest. After a long search we saw two little birds running hither and thither at a distance of or about two hundred yards, but on examining them through our glasses they proved to be Ringed Plovers. These can 40 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE easily be distinguished at a distance by the broad collar of black round the bird's neck, while in the Kentish Plover this is narrower and is divided on the breast by white. The hens of both species are less brightly coloured, and more resemble the appearance of their stony home. For another hour we lay upon the hot stones and searched all around with our binoculars, but failed to see any signs of the presence of Kentish Plovers. There was only one other place which they haunted, and that was four miles away. Hence there was nothing to be done but to continue our laborious tramp over the rough surface to that spot. When one is hungry and thirsty a prospective walk of four miles seems a long distance, even on a good road; so that. the reader can imagine what the journey appeared to wearied ornithologists who were shuffling along with back-stays for foot-gear, and had about sixty pounds of apparatus to carry. Luckily there was a modest refreshment house on the beach ; but when we expectantly entered we were mortified to find that the host was ' out ' of everything we so sorely needed. We were told that the baker was expected with a stock of provisions ; and on looking back we could just discern a man in the far distance struggling over the shingle. At last the provision man arrived, SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 41 and we made one of the plainest and most enjoyable meals that such adventurers have ever partaken. About a mile from this rightly-named Jolly Fisherman was the place where one or two Kentish Plovers have been known to breed. We naturally harboured grave doubts about finding a nest, as there was such a broad expanse of stones over which the search had to be made. At last, however, our highest hopes were raised ; for about two hundred yards off, our guide, who was gifted with remarkable eyesight, saw a bird dart away from its supposed nest, and run swiftly along the ground as if startled at our friendly approach. We all hastened in the direction indicated, each endeavouring to keep his eye on the spot from which the bird had started. On our arriving there we made diligent search, and were amply rewarded and delighted by seeing three yellowish eggs, w^ith the unmistakable black scrawly markings, lying in a little depression in the stones. At the same time, so closely did these eggs correspond to the surrounding pebbles, that if we took our eyes off them it was no small difficulty to refind them. It is one of the wonders of instinct, that these feathered inhabitants of a little world of stones are not subject to any such risk or inconvenience. As soon as the camera was set up we found that other difficulties threatened to baffle us. Clouds obscured 42 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE the sun, while a wind blew from the sea with such force that we had almost as much difficulty in taking a photograph as we had in the case of the j\ X •^^- ■-^•''; ^^^^'Vf^ y^ EGGS OF KExXTISH PLOVER. Ringed Plover. Patience and perseverance, how- ever, always bring success in this kind of enterprise, and after about an hour's waiting, we were successful SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 43 in obtaining some pictures which yielded us satis- faction as Hkely to prove of popular interest. The eggs of the Kentish Plover cannot be con- founded with those laid by any other British bird. The almost black zigzag markings on a clay- brown shell at once distinguish them. The birds run about the shingle with the utmost grace and agility, and it is an extremely fascinating bird-land sight to watch them with a field-glass, as they run about near their nest. The male bird was seen on the sand of the sea-shore, elegantly picking up food which was left by the receding waves. When enough had been gathered, he would swiftly fly to his sitting mate, to feed her with the dainty morsels. M}' friend Mr. Dennis Godfray, who is well acquainted with the Kentish Plover in one of its British haunts, tells me that \\hen the eq-o-s are laid on fine shingle, the birds make a most elaborate collection of small fragments of shells, bleached crab- remains, etc., and place these round their eggs. It is only by the glitter of these shells that it is possible to find the eggs when they are on a fair way to incubation, for the sitting bird has a habit of burying its eggs in the sand until only the tops are visible. Two broods are reared each season on this sand- beach, the first eggs being laid about the first of June, the second at the beginning of August. The Lapwing is another Plover which breeds on 44 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE the shingle. When the eggs of this species are laid on stones, no nest is made, but when a marshy V| solitude is chosen, quite a substantial nest is built ; and again, when in a dry field, the eggs are SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 45 simply laid in a slight hollow in the ground. The reader will see from my illustration, that the smaller ends all point inwards. If we alter their positions and put the large end inwards, the first thing which instinct teaches the Lapwing to do on her return will be to shift the eggs to their original position. A good-sized stone was among the eggs, as was the case with the Redshank's nest previously mentioned. One would have thought that such obstacles would have been of great discomfort to the sitting birds. We. are familiar with the fierce controversies which arose in Lilliput concerning the larger and the smaller ends of eggs. There seems to be something in it after all — at all events from the Lapwing's point of view. In parts of Scotland the Peewit has the reputation of being an unlucky bird. It is said that when the Covenanters were fleeing from their enemies. Lap- wings were seen to be hovering over them, so that through these birds the pursuers of the Covenanters were able to discover their whereabouts. On another occasion, however, the Lapwing was the means of directing the followers of a certain chief to the place where he lay wounded. Certain young Green Plovers were probably in hiding somewhere near the fallen hero, and the parent birds would then fly round and about him, as they always will 46 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE if any one invades their nesting ground when the young are hatched. To my mind, one of the prettiest sights to be met with in bird-land is the nesting site of a colony of Terns. On one part of the wide-stretching shingle beach there is a large family of Common Terns, and also a few of the Lesser Terns. The nests of the former species are placed close together, and are not nearly so difficult to find as those of the Little Tern. As soon as an intruder is seen among the nests all the birds rise, fly upward, and then perform the most graceful of aerial evolutions. The fishermen call these birds Sea-swallows, owing to their graceful and buoyant flight, and the name is eminently suitable. While I was photographing a nest of the Common Tern, there suddenly occurred great commotion amongst the feathered colony overhead, and the cause very soon became apparent. It seems that Herring-Gulls are exceedingly fond of the Terns' eggs, and one of these large birds was actually seen to be making a raid on the colony. Uttering loud, harsh screams, cJiee-u-i, chee-u-i, some of the Terns formed up in a line on each side, while others got above and behind the robber bird. Those above swooped down upon the Gull, while those behind drove him forward ; and under pressure from this formidable force the prisoner for the time being SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 47 was led, or rather driven, far out to sea. While we were lvin< up behind a ridse of shingle, endeavourino- to find a Little Tern's nest by watching the birds with our field-glasses, this interesting per- formance was several times repeated. We found and phot ographed many clutches of eggs of the Common Tern. In most instances a ncbt was formed, yet we also saw the eggs on the bare shingle. T three eggs ^, '' fMf^ -.i"^*?*'- ^'^x..-^^,-- S'^i 'i^>^ ({"iv (-.. OF COMMON TERN. e vary a good deal ; some are of a yellow ground- colour with brown markings, and others range to dark olive green. We tried searching for the es^as of the Little 48 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE Tern, but to find them in this way was an almost impossible task, as they so marvellously resemble the stones lying around. By watching the actions of the birds, we were rewarded for our patience by discovering three nests ; two of these only contained one egg, while the other had the full complement — three. Although these interesting birds have greatly diminished in numbers on this favourite breeding- ground when compared with the quantities that bred here twenty years ago, they are now gradually on the increase again. I sincerely hope collectors will not again attempt to thin their ranks, as they have done in the past. The small size of the eggs, and their distinct markings of two colours — vandyke brown and faint brown-grey — serve to distinguish them from all other eggs of the Tern family. Some eggs have all the marks pointing in one direction, the effect being as if the colours had been put on in a wet state, and had ' run ' ; the darker markings also blend in with the larger grey patches, and form another shade of brown. The photograph of the Little Tern sitting on its eggs was obtained after some considerable diffi- culty and necessary patience. The camera itself was placed on the shingle, about two yards from the nest, and covered with a khaki-coloured cloth, this again being hidden, as much as possible, with stones. I then ventured to try the experiment of myself SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 49 hiding in the stones about one hundred and twenty feet from the camera, having a pneumatic tube con- nection to the instantaneous shutter. In this position I was unable to see the locaHty of the eggs, so that one of our party retired to about one hundred yards' i V .•» ^ ^^^•:^ LITTLE TERN SITTING. distance, meanwhile taking care that I could see him. By the aid of his field-glass he was able to see when the bird settled on her eggs. The Tern flew over the heap of stones under which the camera was hidden, as if undecided what to do, and then she disappeared from my view. Presently, however, 50 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE I saw my friend raise his hand, as a signal that the Tern was on her nest. One pressure of the ball was not sufficient to release the shutter, owing to the length of tubing ; so I had to fill the tube with air, and then pinch it to prevent the air return- ing to the ball. This was unscrewed and allowed to fill, and then fixed on again, and by repeating this three times, enough air was in the tubing to set off the shutter. I was able, in this way, to get some pictures of this becoming and attractive bird. Two of the series are shown in this volume. It will be seen from the photographs what a difficult thing it is to see eggs when laid on the pebbles of a wide-stretching shingle beach ; but I can nevertheless assure the reader that they are very much more easily seen in the pictures than they were when lying among the stones. Only a few square inches surround the eggs in the finished prints ; but let any interested person try to imagine what the difficulties are when there is a nest to be found surrounded by a square mile or more of shingle, and probably only a single nest at the best in this vast expanse of stones. The illustrations of nests, as given, are the result of three long days' work under such difficulties as have been described. Our chief hindrance was, undoubtedly, the wind, which is always more or less prevalent on such a great tract of flat country. SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 51 Some of the fishermen, who cany on their calHng on the sea alongside this beach, are generally very familiar with the habits of these /* w^ birds which make their homes among the stones. Many of their children are even adepts in their ability to discover the nests. Whenever any of 52 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE these youthful birdsnesters notice any intruder to be searching for eggs they will immediately make towards him and offer their own finds for sale. As already hinted, it is a wonder to me how these birds manage so readily to find their nests again after having once left them. One of the more observant of the fishermen told me that sometimes the Little Tern will hover over the site of her nest for some time as if searching for the exact spot. Certainly one bird which we watched seemed to have some difficulty in finding her eggs again after we had roused her off them ; for she flew backwards and forwards over the spot, or near to it, and when the eggs were at last seen she suddenly dropped to them. In the main, instinct may be a practically unerring guide ; but in what degree at times it may possibly fail we know not. Indeed, we know no more about the mysteries of instinct than we do about those of gravitation. It was very noticeable that many of the eggs we found had a small twig or piece of wood near them. These were undoubtedly placed there by the birds, as landmarks. My friend Mr. Hanson, who visited this beach during the spring of 1899, also found this habit to be the general rule. When the eggs are near a bush or other prominent object no such landmarks are wanted. On this stone beach are two large ponds. These SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 53 are surrounded by marshy ground, thick with reeds and sedge, while on the water are patches of aquatic plants forming small islands. A colony of Black- headed Gulls have bred in the pits for a great number of years, and when we visited them the birds were sitting on their eggs. It often happens Ll. b M_sT. that eggs are picked up on the shingle round the water, the birds being compelled to lay before the nests are ready. I was fortunate enough to find a very fine specimen, which I now have in my collection. The nests are exceedingly diiTicult to approach, owing to the marshy condition of the land nearest the water. One man who was a g-ood WilliATKAK S XEST. BLIC SOME BIRDS OF THE SHORE 55 swimmer lost his life a few years ago in attempting to get to the eggs. The brightest, but some of the smallest, birds which choose this shingle for their home are Wheatears. They breed in all sorts of queer places, the favourite being in the many rabbit burrows which are found in the few sandy portions of the beach. We heard of one being in a fish box, and could have photographed it if we had cared to walk another four miles over the shingle. The one pictured is in a characteristic place ; nearly all the old pans or tins lying on the land are taken possession of by these birds. The cock Wheatear is a handsome bird, and gives endless delight to an observer who cares to watch its engaging ways. The acquaintance thus made with these birds which breed on stones was a new experience, which has left many pleasant memories. It seemed to be one of the less trodden byways of bird-land, which still served to widen one's views and appreciation of the wonders of nature as a whole. Ill The Passing of Winter THE presence of the Redwing in the meadow tells us as plainly as falling leaves and changing tints can do, that summer is dead. Hedge- rows which a few days before were tinted with crimson and gold, are now naked and black, only relieved by bunches of red berries by way of autumn's cheer. Instead of now eating the fruit, the birds let it hang until frost and snow clear the country of other supplies. The birds are as yet wild and difficult to approach ; for food is plentiful, and all birds are wild under such circumstances. Other signs that the year is dying are seen on every hand. Here and there stand once gay flower-stalks, now drooping and bare, reminding us of the brighter days not long passed. When Swallows left for the sunshine of the South, the trees were shedding their leaves, and now only the oaks and young beeches have their foliage — and 56 THE PASSING OF WINTER 57 this is shrivelled and brown. Fieldfares haunt the margins of woods, and are seen singly ; they do not flock together until colder weather comes. From amongst the decaying leaves which accumulate where wood and field meet, a Woodcock is occasionally seen ; I indeed almost tread upon one before it rises, and flies away with its curious zigzag flight, to be out of view in a moment or so. In marshy, low-lying meadows Snipe are some- times flushed ; it is impossible to see them as they ' squat ' on the mud. I once stood within a few yards of where I had watched some Snipe down. The ground had been freshly turned, and vegetation was almost absent, — just here and there a tuft of grass showing itself, but not enough to conceal a bird. I knew within a few inches where the Snipe were, and looked carefully, but not a bird could be seen. Approaching, I looked again, but still none were visible ; then, when almost on the spot, several rose from a space of four feet square, the very part which had been looked over. I just mention this incident to show how the Snipe can effectively hide on bare ground by simply ' squatting ' and relying on the colour of its feathers, which harmonise so wonderfully with the bare earth. The music which made valley and hill alike so joyful in spring is almost absent. Robins still sing. 58 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE however, and Hedge Sparrows do so at intervals. Young Carrion-Crows still follow their parents, and when their loud, harsh cry sounds through the woods, many of the smaller birds fly from their path to seek shelter in the thicker bushes. As the days pass, so the procession of winter goes forward. Each rising and setting of the sun brings a still more w^intry aspect. The first frosts make most birds tame. Finches sit in rows on slender twigs, with feathers ruffled and heads drawn in. Thrushes and Blackbirds invade gardens and search diligently for hidden snails ; when one is found they come into the open and violently dash the shell on to a stone until it breaks. The stream is still made fascinating by the presence of the Kingfisher. As he flies past, or stops to hover for a moment over the water, his colours seem more brilliant even than in summer days ; and this is owing to the banks of the stream being bare of coloured flowers. The water also is less clear ; for ditches and miniature watercourses, which drain into the brook, bring sand as they flow alongside the wood or trickle down the pathw^ay from the hill, and in consequence, the stream in winter is not so pure as when the butterflies flitted along its banks. But although other charms of summer have passed away, the Kingfisher still remains ; and the little bird of azure blue, as it THE PASSING OF WINTER 59 darts past, seems for the moment to bring back the light of summer. With the first fall of snow we are able to get quite close to the wildest birds. Redwings and Fieldfares do not fly from our path, as they were wont to do ; they stay in the trees and watch while we pass, although the latter sometimes rise and settle again a little farther on, their loud call, chuff-cJmff-cJiuff, relieving the wintr\' quietness. A Kestrel sits on a prominent oak branch to survey the white country for half an hour at a time ; then he will buoyantly sally forth and hover over the banks of the stream and other spots where the snow is thinner, or where grass blades show through the whiteness. With hoar frost on their lesser branches, and snow on the thicker boughs, the trees make up as it were a wintry battalion, subdued and patient, waiting for the return of spring. The woods are thus still most beautiful. Standing underneath large trees and gazing upward, the scene is as if one were in a great forest of white coral. Wonderful groves, one beyond and above another, of glistening frost-crystal-covered branches stretch before one, seeming fit homes for fairies ; while on each side smaller bushes fill up the alcoves, and seem as though they might be their bowers. Here and there rises a giant tree amongst smaller 6o WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE companions, standing out with whitened branches, silent and motionless, like a sentinel of winter and of the wood. Blue Tits, always busy birds, search underneath the larger boughs where the snow^ has not reached ; Robins hunt under bramble bushes for food, and if one enters another's domain a fight ensues. On the western side of the trees, where snow has not found a resting-place, silver-breasted Tree-Creepers ascend. Sometimes a large tree is chosen, at other times a thin trunk is well searched ; the firs, however, seem their favourite haunts, through being more sheltered. Goldcrests and Long-tailed Tits in company pass from tree to tree, and knock down little showers of snow crystals as they hang in curious positions on the branches. Their faint call-notes, zee-zee-zee^ are as music in the woods when most birds are silent ; Blue Tits make the woods the merriest, with their musical chi-chi, cliing-ching, uttered incessantly throughout the morning, and the Great Tits respond with their louder cry. If it were not for the presence of birds in the fields and woods in winter. Nature would seem to be really dead. The interesting little workers give life to the seemingly dormant surroundings ; and without their enlivening notes and engaging actions the country would be sombre indeed. But where birds are there are also life and happiness. THE PASSING OF WINTER 6i There is one thing which relieves the monotony of the life of the City of London, preventing its becoming to a naturalist, in a sense, the dullest place on earth, and that is the presence of Sparrows and Pigeons. The Sparrows especially seem to give to the un- picturesque squares and still less interesting streets, a little taste of the country ; and even their noisy quarrels and merry chirpings are a source of interest to some at least in the crowds who pass them by. The first snow does not last long ; the fields look green once more, again the birds are singing. Sky- Larks are soaring and attempting to utter their notes, but not succeeding soon descend, for the winter, though yielding a little to spring's advance, has not yet left us. After a few days of clearer sunshine we begin to hope that spring is really with us, but suddenly the cold pall of winter again overshadows the land. So sudden is this after the warm days, that certain birds arc starved, especially Starlings. Rooks stand in the snow-covered meadows, and fly to anything which shows black above the whiteness, a dismal caw being given when this is seen not to be food. Others keep under oaks and scratch the snow away, turning up a quantity of dead leaves in their efforts to find acorns. Finches call from the railway embankment ; there are many kinds there, for numbers of dead plants stand where the snow is thinnest, and on these, 62 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE eating the seeds, are Linnets and others. Pert Httle Redpolls are the most interesting : they perch on the stalks, which bend with their weight, break open the pods and allow the seeds to fall on the snow, then descend and feast on the supply thus ingeniously collected. If a companion or one of the Linnets approach, an angry whistle, pe-u-e, is uttered, and their red crests arc raised. The plump, well-built, busy little birds look by their pretty habits as if no weather would upset their equanimity. Though Linnets are quieter they are quite as busy, but not so easy to approach. The confiding Red- polls seem perfectly unconscious of our presence, and swing to and fro on stems while we stand quite near to them. Cock Chaffinches are also here, dressed in their handsome winter plumage ; they walk gracefully about on the crisp white surface, as well becomes a bird in such royal colours. Every now and then many of the birds rise and fly to other parts, but it is noticed that Redpolls remain and diligently ' work' the seed-pods. Large flocks of Larks fly southward in hope of finding food, so also do Redwings. Fieldfares remain and flock together ; and it is a problem what they feed on, for all the hips and haws were cleared from the hedges during the first fall of snow. Underneath a hedgerow something white attracts notice ; it is of a different tint to the snow, and THE PASSING OF WINTER 63 stooping to see what it may be, I am surprised to find a flower of the white dead nettle. Just this one little cluster of velvety white flowers standing alone in acres of snow-covered ground seems strangely out of place. Is it a sign that winter has not long to stay ? Days pass, however, and snow still lies on the trees and ground, but the pure whiteness gives place to darker shades, the reason being that winds have caused tiny furrows to form on the surface, and these throw shadows which cause the apparent darker shade to appear. How effectively does snow bring out the shapes of trees ! The graceful curve of the ash can be recognised from a great distance ; so also can the oaks, while the elm has its own peculiar form. Nearly all the trees can be distinguished as well as they could in summer. Although the leaves add a great charm, even bare trees are still attractive ; we see what did not so much strike us before ; they have a beauty in their time of winter rest. One evening, as the Starlings are going to their roosting-place in the ivy-covered house, one is seen to fall from the flock. It sustains a broken leg in falling ; the frozen snow does not yield as it would if freshly drifted. The poor bird just had strength to reach its nightly home, and then gave in ex- hausted. It died soon after, and on examination 64 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE it is seen that skin, bones, and feathers are practically all ithat is left of this once noisy and active little creature. Starvation had done its work ; and hundreds of others suffered a similar fate. Dead birds are seldom seen in the open fields. A characteristic habit of birds and other animals is to hide in some out-of-the-way nook when death is drawing near. At length the snow shows signs of melting and giving way before the increasing strength of the sun ; but at night it freezes again and so counter- balances the action of the heat. The wind, however, one evening goes round to the south-west, and the effect is remarkable. In about twelve hours there is not a trace of snow to be seen, and the low- lying meadows, which a few hours ago were clothed in white, are now several feet deep in water. The cart-ruts down the hillsides are miniature rivers, and make the water below rise still more rapidly. On the margins of the newly formed lakes many species of birds arc feeding. Eield fares and Redwings are there, Pied Wagtails, a Carrion-Crow, Meadow- Pipits — the latter continually ' sparring ' at each other and calling weet-weet ; many kinds of Finches also are seen. On the water itself eight Moor-hens are contentedly swimming gracefully about, and looking as if the flooded field had been their home for long instead of only for a few hours. Missel Thrushes, Blackbirds, large parties of Starlings, THE PASSING OF WINTER 65 Sparrows, and a host of other birds add to the mixed crowd, and they are all surprisingly tame, with the exception of the Crow ; and all were intent on one object — to obtain a good meal, and it was easy to see that their appetites were being satisfied. The next day broke fresh and cloudless, and the weather continued so for awhile. Spring seemed to be coming on apace. On a piece of waste ground are hundreds of tiny white flowers nestling among leaves of emerald green. Chickweed thus loses no time in taking advantage of the life-giving sunshine. The banks by the hedgeside are becoming daily more green, the umbelliferous plants are growing rapidly and hiding others of slower growth. Birds everywhere are singing and rejoicing in the approach of spring. Cock Sparrows are daily carrying on furious battles, cheered on, as it were, by the chattering hens. The Rooks hold their 'parliaments' more frequently, and some fly to the rookeries and have loud and long consultations on the dilapidated condition of the nests. Some of the older and more astute members of the colony take possession of the best nests, and forthwith commence repairing them. In the wood Ring- Doves are cooing sweetly to each other, and are already thinking of nesting, while Crows are searching for eligible sites for building. Sheltered ground beneath the woodland trees is 5 66 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE white with drooping snowdrops ; and while taking notice of these a Sky-Lark, just over the hedge in a meadow, rises and soars upwards with a full burst of glorious song. The familiar notes, which I had not heard during many months, held me enraptured. Higher and higher he rises, his notes sounding weaker as he nears the white fleecy clouds. At last the singer reaches his limits, flutters and struggles to get higher, but strength fails, although he still sings, resting on outspread wings, and then he descends. The pure notes go straight to my heart and fill me with joy. Down, down he comes — still slowly — and singing as if his little body could not contain the joy and thanksgiving he is pouring out so passionately and fully. Half way down he stops, flutters and tries to soar again, but he cannot ; again his wings are spread and he comes downwards. What memories the notes awaken ; what thoughts of past springtimes and brighter summers ! The very notes, though simple, speak of joy, and seem to be connected with sunshine and flowers. A spell holds me as this little harbinger of spring heralds coming brighter days, and I cannot leave the spot while he continues to sing. But at length he is almost down ; his wings are closed ; he drops to the earth ; the music ends, and the meadows seem by way of contrast to be wrapt in silence. The Winter has Passed. IV Early Spring in a Middlesex Wood ALTHOUGH the first week in April has nearly passed, no feathered migrants have yet arrived. Still, there is no lack of song to welcome on-coming Spring. A Blackbird gives forth his wild notes from a tree on the one hand, and seems to encourage others ; on the other side is a Coal Tit, busy in working round the leaves of a holly bush ; and every now and then he knocks one off while capturing insects. In the interior of the wood some Jays are screaming, and Jackdaws join in with their cr\' oi jaack. The wood itself is not so green as is usual at this time of the year. Everything in the way of natural growths is backward. Round about the base of bushes and trees decaying leaves have collected in small heaps ; and these give rise to a continual rustling when disturbed by the wind. Some dead bracken still stands, but the main part is broken down. The prevailing tint is brown ; 67 6S WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE for, in addition to fallen leaves and bracken, a number of young trees still retain their shrivelled foliage. Holly bushes, however, show a dark green tint here and there, and so relieve the prevailing colour. Between the bushes and heaps of drifted leaves there is a green carpet of moss. We can walk on this silently, and approach both birds and animals without their quick ears giving them warning. I am able to stalk a Thrush and get within touching distance, and then retire without the bird knowing of my presence. A rabbit emerges from a little canopy of bracken and unconcernedly feeds near where I stand ; and then other com- panions come on the scene, and all skip about, jumping over each other, and running round, throwing up their hind legs as if kicking at some imaginary object. A Ring-Dove flies across the wood, and with much noise settles on a holly bush. Coo-coo-coo is now heard ; and from a tree farther in the wood an answer at once comes — a call for the first bird to fly away to join its mate. But hark ! what is that commotion on the ground ? The cause soon becomes apparent : a rabbit, panting with fright and exertion, dashes past, just stopping to stand up on his haunches and to prick up ears before darting on again at JO WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE full speed. Other rabbits which have been feeding near hasten to their holes to lie concealed in safety. It is easy to guess what has occasioned all this excitement : a weasel is on the track in search of prey, and in a few minutes the determined little animal appears, following in the rabbit's footsteps as perseveringly as any beast of prey might do. He looks a comical, diminutive fellow, as he runs along with an odd kind of hopping movement, and arched back. Sniffing to the right and then to the left, he moves slower than the rabbit, but we may rest assured that the weasel will win in this race. So persistent are these small depredators that they will follow a trail for a mile or more, and in the end they nearly always secure their prey. Many rabbits are passed by in the seemingly slow hunt ; and while these are left untouched, undivided attention is given to the animal which is being tracked. The doomed rabbit halts to rest many times, crouching in the grass, but only again to hear the same plodding and approach of its enemy. Rushing forward, more scared at every stage, the timid bunny is at last exhausted, or thoroughly worn out by fright, and it will either hide in a burrow, or bury its head in thick-growing grass. The rabbit is now doomed ; for the weasel follows, and is soon partaking of a hard-earned meal. At IN A MIDDLESEX WOOD night weasels will noiselessly climb hedges to capture roosting birds. While on nocturnal rambles in bird-land, the last cry of a captured bird, or the squeal of a dying rabbit is often heard. Weasels as interesting little creatures are becoming scarcer each year, owing to the havoc they cause among game birds. They have a habit of prying into nearly ever}' hole they see ; and know- ing this, the trapper places a box in the corner of a field with a small hole in the side ; the trap is put just inside the hole, and the weasel, innocently entering, is caught. My friend M r . Hanson once saw a weasel being chased down a well-frcqucnted road at Tottenham by a number of angry, chattering sparrows. The weasel had evidently been tres- passing near their nests, and the clamouring birds — about thirt}' in all — gave chase and scared the dangerous little intruder away. Blackbirds are perhaps the most persistent singers at this time of the year. They are on all sides THE SCARED RABBIT. 72 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE around, and when one finishes his song and pauses others fill up the interval, so that the music shall still go on. One has just settled on the summit of a young beech, under which rab- bits are again playing. His sable form is out- lined against the blue sky ; both loud and sweet is his short whistling song ; and then he passes on, pre- sently to be heard in another part of the wood. The Blackbird is rest- less : he does not sing from one perch, like the Thrush ; he moves about, so as to give to each part of the wood the benefit of his notes. Carrion-Crows are building not far away ; the pair are constantly calling. Moor-hens, too, are ROBIN S NEST. IN A MIDDLESEX WOOD 73 continually cn'ing kain-a ; the lake in the wood being an attraction to various water-fowl. Two Robins have been watching me for some time ; they are building near, for one has a dead leaf in its beak ; but no amount of waiting seems likely to discover the site of their nest. I searched care- fully where I thought it might be found, but no trace could be seen. Robins will never allow the whereabouts of their nest to be discovered while building ; if watched, they will keep away from their half-finished home for hours. Such is the intelligence of instinct. At the extreme end of the wood is a grass bank under the hedge, and while passing alongside of this I saw a Robin's nest already containing eggs. The sitting bird betrayed the site by flying out ; if she had remained still her nest -would not have been pictured here. In the hedge a Blackbird's nest is found with two eggs — not even a branch hides it from a passer-by. The few Blackbirds and Thrushes which build before the leaves appear never seem to build their nests in sheltered places. I think these must belong to young birds, which have not had the experience of some of their older companions ; the latter always build in ' tight' places from the photographer's point of view. A strange Robin from another quarter of the wood perches on a stump and commences to sing ; 74 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE but before the song is over one of the Robins which are building near fiercely charges the intruder and drives him away. Woodpeckers are busy at their nesting-holes ; and the rattling noise they make while boring is very deceiving. I have often tried to stalk them ; but when I reached the place whence the noise at first seemed to come, the skilful operators seemed to be as far away as ever, and eventually the nest has been discovered nearly half a mile distant, although the noise at first sounded only one hundred yards off. It is the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, the smallest of the species, which makes the most noise ; the Greater Spotted Woodpecker also can be heard at a great distance when at work. When the Green Wood- pecker bores a nesting-hole, it works in quieter style. There are several pairs in the wood, and they are constantly calling, but it is difficult to get near them. I have seen them busy near an ant-hill ; and a charming sight it is when this bird, clothed in his spring plumage, runs here and there, darting out his long tongue to pick up ants. The Woodpecker's tongue is covered with a glutinous substance, and insects have no chance of escape if they are once touched. In addition to this, the tip of the horny tongue is also provided with a number of delicate bristles, slanting in a backward direction. These are also very useful IN A MIDDLESEX WOOD 75 in extracting insects from deep crevices in decayed trees, or from holes in the ground. When the winter months are exceptionally warm, W'oodpeckers will commence their nesting-holes in the opening weeks of the year. The same tree is often chosen year after year. I knew of a Lesser Spotted Wood- pecker's hole which a pair of Marsh-Tits were wanting to appropriate. When the Woodpecker returned and found them in possession it began another hole a little farther down the tree. A Greater Spotted Woodpecker has made its nesting-hole near where I sit ; it is immediately over a path- way along which hundreds of people pass weekly, and chips of wood from the hole are strewn on the gravel. As I write, the bird returns and runs up the trunk in a series of short jerks. Now he descends, not like a Nuthatch would do, by turning round and going down head foremost ; he walks, or rather jerks himself down, tail first. I am then suddenly seen, and with a short cry the bird hurriedly flies away. The Blackbird, which has been going the round of the wood, has just returned to sing his wild notes once again from . the same tree-top ; but he is still in a hurried mood, and flies across the pathway to the bushes. At the end of the wood is an open space, where are some sallow bushes, about which many insects are flying, A humble- je WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE SITE OF GREATER SPOTTED WOODPECKERS NEST. bee — the first seen of the season — buzzes past ; but, attracted by the yellow, sweet- smelling catkins, he turns in his path and settles on a flower. Over the \vood- side hedge is a long, hilly, winding road. I seldom can quite reach the end of this interesting lane when explor- ing it, for there is always so much to see and admire at all seasons of the year. In spring- time many kinds of birds are always there, busy attend- ing to their nests ; bright flowers and gay butterflies adorn the roadside IN A MIDDLESEX WOOD ^j in summer. When autumn brings her golden tints to the oaks, squirrels play about the branches ; and in winter, hundreds of small birds can always be seen searching for food in the hedges, which are tall enough to make the seclusion more complete. There is always something to attract attention, and to learn in this lane. Nature always teaches some new lesson if we wait with patience while making our observations. The secret of seeing to advantage wild Nature and her many species of birds and animals is to remain perfectly still, and wait for the birds and animals to com.e to us. Beside ancient rugged trees, in which Jackdaws are now building, there is here and there a picturesque cottage — a charming old place externally, which harmonises well with the green surroundings. Such homesteads are not like commonplace modern villas, but look as though, like the trees, they had been placed there by Nature. These old homesteads have stood for scores of years, and will remain long after many modern ill-built houses have fallen to ruin. Whatever may have been the faults of our forefathers, they knew how to build houses that would last. Whatever they did in this department they did well, and their hearts were in their work. In our day the countryside is so often marred by builders whose learning is confined to the catechism of money-making by jerry-building. V Round and about a Suburban Orchard Part L Spring 7^ HE soft air is filled with the perfume of fruit blossoms. Row after row of plum trees stand robed in clusters of white flowers, that are as dazzling to the eyes as snow when we look upon them. A few days ago these branches were bleak and bare, but the mysterious power of the sun has in so short a time opened the buds, which now diffuse their scent in all the beauty and promise of young spring life. Now and again a white petal floats down upon the still air, to find a resting-place on my note-book. Sometimes a bird knocks off a blossom, at other times a bee will cause one to fall. The humble-bee seems always to be in a hurry ; for it dashes along, and, when settled on a flower, does not stay, but hurries onward to another, while others, quite as industrious, take its place. There are hundreds of such passing to and fro among the lovely and inviting blossoms. Butterflies also, now 78 A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SPRING 79 awakened from their winter sleep, are attracted by '1 .«^-'^^ GARDEN-WARBLER S NEST. the sweet-smelling flowers, and flit merrily about the green avenues of trees. Although it was a very 8o WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE cold winter, many of these have survived to see this great resurrection. A Peacock butterfly settles on the greensward by the pathway ; its wings are ragged and torn, but the warmth and sunny cheer- fulness of this spring day has brought it from a protected place of hiding. So also is it with the Common Blue butterfly, that little jewel of Nature which we associate with the hot days of July and August. One dances along as it were, and joins in the procession of spring, now returning to claim its own. Garden-Warblers have just arrived, but are not yet in full song. They are in many a tree, and they can be seen to be picking insects out from the blossoms. How delicately they take their food ! Very quietly they creep about the branches, and gracefully eat the insects, seeming as if they were almost afraid of damaging the petals. What a contrast is such carefulness to the destructiveness of the Bullfinch ! I love the Garden-Warblers above all woodland birds ; they have always been favourites of mine, on account of their winning habits. The Blackcap is nobler, both in song and plumage, but still the Garden-Warbler is my chief woodland friend. Blackcaps came back to their old haunts a week ago, and are now filling the alcoves of the blossom-mantled trees with their own sweet wild music. When they first arrived A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SPRING 8i their song lacked the fulness and perfection that now gives it perfect charm, I love to think that it must be the beauty of the spring which makes the birds sing so perfectly at such a time. To live among all this loveliness seems as though it must have an inspiring effect even on them. Just think of the freshness of the newly-clad world that is their native domain. In the springtime they live in luxur\^ beyond description ; wc cannot look in any direction without seeing flowers, and insects and other food are here in greatest profusion. No wonder that the air is filled with avian music — an expression of their jc^}' and satisfaction. One of the most charming attributes of Nature is the luxuriance of her gifts. There is not only no stint, the provision is profuse ; each tree has thousands of leaves, yet not one too many. If we were to take a thousand leaves from a large tree it would still present an unaltered appearance. The fields also abound with flowers, and grass blades are there without number, yet each has its place. Pluck a flower here, or break a branch from the hedgerow there, and Nature soon fills up the gap. Another attraction of Nature is her perfect symmetry without uniformity. Nature does not work like a machine, but gives proof of an Infinite Intelligence in her designs. Every tree differs from its neighbour, and no two leaves are alike in form. Note the 6 82 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE blossom on the trees; the branches are hidden by bunches of flowers, each having its own tint. A stream divides the orchard from a wood adjoining, and a waggon-track along the bank overshaded on one side by woodland trees, and on the other by a variety of fruit blossoms, makes an extended bower of rare attraction — a paradise of promise for harvest time. A continuous stream of life passes along underneath this sylvan canopy. Butterflies, one following another, fly by, and Warblers sing in the bushes. A few Orange-tip butterflies, some of the most beautiful objects of returning spring, have here and there emerged from the chrysalis, and have entered upon their life in a perfect state, to make the brilliantly clad fields still more fascinating. As the Garden -Warbler is my best-liked bird, so is the Orange-tip my favourite butterfly, being always associated in my mind ^^'iLh one of the most delightful pictures of Nature which I ever looked upon. I had suffered from a long illness ; but on the first day I was able to go abroad I wandered alongside this same orchard from which I now write. It was winter when I took to my bed ; and I was almost cut off from Nature except what I was able to observe from my chamber window. The scene which I looked upon when I walked along this pathway will always remain a lasting picture in my mind. I A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SPRING S3 remember my emotions of delight when I once more looked upon Nature clothed in her spring garb. It was as if I had suddenly entered a paradise of beauty — a remnant of Eden. The trees were a blaze of colour, as thev are now, while birds ORANGE-TIP BUTTERFLY. aloft and on every side seemed to be singing more sweetly than they ever sang before. I remember more particularly a Blackcap perched on a hawthorn branch, whose song rings in my ears still. But what chiefly attracted my attention was the Orange- tip butterflies, which were fluttering hither and 84 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE thither over the flowers. One settled on me, and bathed its delicate wings in the sunshine. It was the first time I had seen this species in this orchard, so that their very presence seemed to inspire new love for Nature. Ever since, when I see one of these butterflies, I think of that scene in Nature's great gallery that is so vividly photographed on ;. ,.. my mind. \ Willow-Wrens seem to be the commonest birds -^>>^v^ .., in the orchard ; as soon as one finishes his ■ ^''} '•' ' song another takes up the chiming notes, ■''>'. A}'^ and the merry undulating whistle can be heard from more than a few trees in the great orchard. The males at this season will fight desperately for the hens : one pair of veterans have just had a ' set to ' in a plum tree, and the victor is now singing proudly, even defiantly, from a top branch. No doubt his part- ner, whom he has so gallantly won, is near at hand to en- courage his chivalrous senti- ments. I like to watch these pert little Warblers making GREEN-VEINED WHITE thclr ucst. Thc hctt docs most BUTTERFLY ASLEEP r 1 1 M 1 • 1 1 ON GRASS STEM. of thc builduig ; but her mate A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SPRING 85 brings the grasses, as a labourer might to a skilled artificer, and after he has given his burden to the builder he mounts to the tree above and sings, evidently for joy. When the nest is completed he has to sing the livelong day for very satisfaction. Two Woodpeckers are at work in the wood beyond AKDEX-WAKCLER SITTING. the stream ; the loud resonant noise they make while boring holes can be heard for nearly a mile. A miniature v.aterfall adds diversity to the brook, and where the water gently trickles down, a little basin of crystal water has been formed. Here numbers of song-birds come to drink and bathe. A few minutes ago Greenfinches were splashing about, and 86 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE settled on the branches above to flutter and shake themselves while drying their feathers. Now a Thrush is drinking and more Greenfinches come and await their turn ; there is a piping from a hawthorn bush, and a Bullfinch hops down and drinks from the little pool. All the birds know of this bath of clear trickling water, and during the whole morning the twittering Finches and Linnets come and go. A few stay to sing, and then, seemingly attracted by the lovely orchard, fly thither and are lost sight of among the blossoms. Flowers are beginning to cover the banks of the stream with their seasonable hues. White and red dead nettles are the most abundant, but here and there a primrose — the flower of spring — shines from amongst a wreath of green. Violets are nearly over ; just one here and another there are all that are left of the numbers that covered the banks a few days ngo. As the thick nettles grow up, so the grass and other plants try to reach above them in the struggle for existence. The great struggle for life which is always taking place in tropical forests is a sight such as very few have an opportunity of seeing. The same kind of thing on a smaller scale, however, goes on along an English stream-bank, or hedgerow during spring. When the winter frosts have gone and the warmer days arrive, the grass commences to grow rapidly in ever-increasing quantities ; but A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SPRING 87 in places the sunlight penetrates through the thickly matted blades. Hundreds of seeds which have lain dormant commence to germinate, and all of these push upwards to reach the light Those that the sun's rays can reach quickly gain strength ; and the battle is then between the seedlinos themselves and the grass. The stronger win, and thousands of seedlings die because no light reaches them. If we part the thickest grass clumps and allow the light to enter below, we shall see in a very short time dozens of seedlings shoot up and commence a struggle amongst themselves which otherwise would not have taken place. Some of the weaker plants would have no chance if they had to rely on themselves to reach the light. Take the convolvulus, for instance. The tiny seedling will push towards one of its stronger neighbours and commence to wind around it for support. When it reaches the sunlight it immediately becomes strengthened, and envelopes, and sometimes kills the plant which at first was so much stronger than itself, and even saved its life, I have seen its white flowers at the top of a tall, thick hawthorn bush ; below, the bindweed was thin and the leaves were small, but look at the top, where it receives the stimulus of life-giving sun ! A mass of white flowers is there, and the leaves are large and healthy. The umbelliferous plants are some of the strongest, 88 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE and in the struggle generally win. When once they have outstripped the grass and have secured more light and room they very quickly grow, and will even top the tall nettles ; they resemble miniature trees, while Whitethroats delight to build in their shelter, although for some reason the nests are never placed actually in these large plants, but in the lower herbage. Here, at all events, these plants are in the greatest evidence, and the stream bank is a mass of white from their umbel-like flower heads. Every now and then one will shake, and a bird will dart out and flutter above the miniature forest — as it must seem to them — just stay to catch a fly, and then dart back again. If we move some of these plants aside and examine the ground, we see many small tracks or tunnels through the dwarf jungle. Most of these are formed by mice ; and if we exercise a little patience, one of these quiet brown animals will be seen to run along its own made pathway. It may even be our good fortune, while lying hidden amongst this thick cover, to see these engaging little rodents at play ; or, what is still prettier, climb about plant stems like tiny monkeys, whose antics in some measure they seem to imitate. When wandering about country lanes, one often hears the mice and shrews squeaking, but how few people ever take the trouble to find out whence the curious noises come ! By carefully 90 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE parting the grass and then waiting, one is amply rewarded for any trouble or patience ; for sooner or later these interesting animals will appear. The Kestrel knows all about them ; for when once this bird of prey has seen a mouse emerge from cover, and does not catch it at the first attempt, it is surprising how long the bird will hover over that spot. Sometimes instead of hovering he will settle on the ground near the ' run,' and wait until the mouse shows itself. Across the stream in the shady depths of the wood, and sheltered by a green canopy of young leaves, there are a host of daffodils, which, however, are now fading. Bluebells— a flower all children love — help to tint the many-coloured woodland carpet. In one corner of the orchard the ground is overspread with yellow, dandelions being the chief covering, but the lesser celandine, too, is there. When we come farther into this golden corner a blue tint is seen to mingle with the yellow. Between the dandelions are patches of veronica, whose small flowers of brilliant blue look as though they might be jewels fallen from some fairy eastern sky, so chastely brilliant are their petals. The germander speedwell is one of the most beautiful of our wild flowers. In the corner beyond the flowers are many small hills ; and late in the afternoon the moles, which A SUBURBAN ORCHARD-SPRING 9: I once made them, will often come above ground, caught one and placed it on fairly hard ground, to see whether it could burrow into it. Several attempts were made, and at last the perse- vering little creature had to give up the at- tempt. When placed on softer ground it buried itself out of . 1 . 1 , MOLE. sight m less than a minute; and I obtained a photograph of the operation just as it was disappearing. The mole will sometimes squeak loudly if dis- turbed or alarmed. A few years ago I came across a large specimen in this orchard ; and when I touched it with a stick, it squealed after the manner of a pig, but of course in a minor ke\'. Then to me it has been really surpris- ing to note how rapidly a worm can move when a mole is in pursuit. One MOLE BURROWING. 92 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE day I saw several worms rushing out of the ground at an incredible speed for them, and presently a mole also came to the surface, showing the cause of their alarm. I was quite unaware that worms could move so quickly until I witnessed this demon- stration of the fact. In this corner of the orchard the birds are singing as if each were trying to surpass all the others ; and one is struck with the beauty and purity of their voices. No one song can really be heard separately or distinctly, but there is a harmonious chorus of Blackbirds, Blackcaps, Whitethroats, Willow- Wrens, and Thrushes. The tiny brown Wren, too, joins in this full concert ; he also must take his part. He sits on a dead stump in the hedge ; and his song, given with quivering wings and tail bobbing up and down, can be heard above all of his bigger comrades. Twice he sings, and then dives into the thick hedge ; for he has a nest there made of dead leaves — this being known only to myself and the occupiers. Another pair of Wrens have their nest in a gravel pit beyond the orchard boundary ; it is built into the earth, and much resembles its surround- ings. Near it are two empty nests built into the earth in the same way. These extra nests, which Wrens always build, have long been a mystery as to the purpose they served. My opinion is, that they are used by the young to roost in, after the manner A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SPRING 93 of young Moor-hens, which ahvays have sleeping nests provided for them by their parents. Wrens as a rule, lay eight eggs, and it would be an impossibility for eight young to roost in one nest when nearly full grown. A great many young birds return at night to their nests to sleep, long after they are able to provide for themselves. Swallows sweetly twitter overhead, and skim above and round about the orchard trees, sometimes resting on the branches. This umbrageous and fruitful orchard forms the charming world of hundreds of Warblers, and of other migratory birds, during their stay in this country. When the blossom fades, Garden-Warblers will begin to build in the goose- berry bushes below the larger trees. Blackcaps build in the bushes bordering the stream ; White- throats make their home along the hedgeside, hidden by hedge-parsley. ^lissel-Thrushes already have their nests in the trees, and a pair of Hawfinches have just commenced building in a tree near where I stand. Blackbirds and Thrushes breed in large numbers, principally on the ground, some of their nests being concealed among grass and nettles along- side the orchard pathway. The majority are to be found in clumps of rhubarb, however, and this seems to be a curious place for a nest, but there have they built and reared broods year after year. A Green- finch flies past, with some difficult}' carrying a large 94 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE piece of tangled grass ; and I know of a Chafiinch's nest in yonder hedge, so that the finches are now all very busy. Then Moor-hens on the stream are already collecUng,^^.. . f o o d for their young, or sh own- ing them where to find it for themselves. Just now 1 saw three little black balls — the young Moor- hens— standing on the edge of their nest ; they were evidently just hatched, for they had yet to learn to hide themselves as soon as an in- truder appeared. The mother bird flies away in great alarm and calls to them, but they— in- nocent little strangers— look at me and prefer THRUSH S NEST IN RHl A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SPRING 95 to squeak at each other contentedly and un- alarmed. What a world of interest there is to see in an orchard like this in the days of spring ! Wheresoever one wanders, or looks, we cannot but be struck with the exceeding beauty and varied wonders of Nature. Here and now we see her at her fairest, clothed in freshest garb, and made charming and melodious by the love-talk or song of countless birds. We cannot appreciate all this as we ought, or as we would ; the mind cannot grasp all the meaning of such marvels. '''^^lieve'^ yet could write what 1 felt when gazing on the first primrose of spring, or listening to the first call of the Chiff-chaff. Look upon this glorious patch of veronica : one flower, one petal even, is a wonder of beauty in itself; yet here arc m}'riads. Amidst all this profusion we cannot concentrate our thoughts lijlpn one single plant, insect, or bird ; there are such numbers, and each and all are so wonderful. Every leaf, or even each blade of grass that we so carelessly trample upon, is ' a thing of beauty ' ; and we look around until the mind seems to become bewildered by the lavishness of Nature's gifts — the handiwork of an Infinite Creator. While the pageant of spring is passing before us, in all the blaze of the midday sun, we cannot admire everything as we should like to admire it. When evening shadows fall, and all the earth is still ; when 96 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE flowers are closed and the birds are asleep, we can more fully realise their meaning and their grandeur, while we think upon the wonders of such an annual resurrection. We look back upon each little incident or scene, and see it again in our mind's eye, and then we may in measure grasp the lessons that Nature would teach. It is when the Brown Owl is hooting in the wood, and the Nightingale warbling his song of love and passion, that the mind becomes absorbed with the extreme beauty of the earth. We see the glorious pageant of spring under the strong rays of the sun, and admire it ; but it is not until we come to quieter eventide that we appreciate it most, amid calmer surroundings. VI Round and about a Suburban Orchard Part IL Summer THE blossoms have faded and fallen ; the decayed petals which covered the ground have disappeared ; the leaves have assumed the darker green of summer. Numbers of birds are flying to and fro, carrying food to sitting mates ; for, although summer has commenced, it is still a busy time in bird-land. Round and about this orchard I have known fifty-nine different species to breed. It is with five only of this number, however, that I wish to deal — viz., Cuckoo, Lesser Redpoll, Sky-Lark, Pied Wagtail, and Golden- crested Wren. The average date for the Cuckoo to arrive in our northern suburb, according to my yearly notes, is April 1 8. Everybody is pleased when the Cuckoo's pleasantly reassuring note is first heard ; for that is a true intimation that spring has really come. We are specially favoured with these birds. I have 7 98 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE not been able to discover how many frequent our woods and fields ; but to judge by the constant calling from different points throughout a summer day, there must be a good many. One bird more particularly had a very remarkable note ; this was the usual cry, but uttered in a much higher pitch. Not being a musician, I cannot give the key of this, but it often attracted the attention of persons curious in such matters. In the afternoon or evening the Cuckoo calls more frequently than is the case during earlier hours in the day. I believe that I hold the record of having heard the Cuckoo call the greatest number of times in succession. On June 12, 1900, I listened to one uttering its cry Cuckoo, or perhaps more correctly, k/ioo-hoo, four hundred and thirteen times. There were one or two very short pauses, to take breath, as it were, but with these exceptions, the bird kept on untiringly calling for the number of times stated. When I began to count, he had been at his performance some time ; when I finished he made a pause of about a minute, and then recommenced without showing any symptoms of fatigue. There is still much to be found out about the Cuckoo. I regret that I have had so few oppor- tunities of observing its habits. Although there are so many individual birds about, nearly every nest that would be likely to contain one of their eggs cuckoo's egg in greexfixch's xest (clckoo's egg on the right). lOO WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE is always robbed, either by an egg-stealing bird, or by, what is far worse, one of the numerous bands of loafers who haunt the neighbourhood, and seem to get their chief pleasure in destroying nests ; or even in the more brutal pastime of placing unfledged young on a gatepost or fence and then stoning the helpless little birds to death — this usually taking place under the eyes of the distracted parent birds. Notwithstanding its many genuine pleasures, there is much of sorrow and pain in bird-land to a humane naturalist. Last spring I found a Greenfinch's nest with six eggs ; it w^as in a well-concealed place, and I hoped would escape molestation. A few days later a Cuckoo placed her egg in the nest, at the same time removing two of the Finch's eggs. After taking much trouble, I was able to photograph this nest : the Cuckoo's egg is the one on the right ; this was of a faint reddish-white ground colour, spotted almost equally all over with reddish spots, and was as far removed in resemblance from a Greenfinch's egg as almost any variety of the Cuckoo's. The nest was robbed a few days later by a bird, for the empty shells were still there. The Cuckoo will sometimes place her egg in a nest before it contains any others, the usual result being, that the builders desert their chosen station when they find an egg in the nest before it is A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SUMMER loi finished, I am able to give an illustration of a Pied Wagtail's nest which contains a Cuckoo's egg. CUCKOO S EGG IN PIED WAGTAIL S NEST. This was built in ivy growing over a fence, which is always a favourite nesting-place of Pied Wagtails, I02 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE It was well concealed among large leaves, a curious thing being, that it w^as next to a gatepost, and each time the gate was shut the nest was shaken. A friend who showed me the nest thought this was probably the cause of it being deserted. I do not think the birds would have built the nest if they had objected to the vibration, as the gate was constantly being opened and closed while the nest was being constructed. I rather think it was the presence of the Cuckoo's egg before the nest was completed that caused it to be forsaken. While engaged in building, the Wagtails never flew directly to the nest, but entered the ivy a little to the left. Pied W^agtails more than other birds seem to know where they are protected, and will build in suitable places in gardens close to a house. The nest pictured was near to a window ; and the pretty habits of the graceful little birds caused a deal of entertainment to those who watched them. The Cuckoo's egg had a green ish-\vhite ground colour, profusely speckled with greenish-brown and dark brown spots and faint grey undermarkings. The resemblance to a Pied Wagtail's egg was very marked, except in size, and this helped to distinguish it. Although we have so many Cuckoos in this district, a young bird of this species is seldom seen. A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SUMMER 103 I myself have never seen one in these parts ; but my friend Mr. Hanson once saw one sitting on a fence near my home. He watched it for awhile to see whether the foster-parents would feed it. Presently a Robin flew to the fence with a grub in her beak. The young Cuckoo opened his beak to its fullest extent, and the Robin then gave up the much wanted, food. It was a ludicrous picture ; the Cuckoo seeming as if he might swallow such a foster-mother ; while the Robin on her part was apparently conscious that her head might be endangered if care was not taken while placing food in her hungry youthful protege's mouth. The Pied Wagtail, unlike other members of this family, seems to like the company of man. Several pairs breed in gardens round and about this orchard, and also alongside the stream which flows near. At all times the Pied Wagtail is a bird which attacts attention by its graceful gait and manners. They are an ornament to any garden which they frequent for building ; and if left alone they will return year after year to the loved and familiar haunt. In the beautiful garden belonging to my esteemed friend Mr. Gurlitt of Winchmore Hill a pair of this species successfully rear two broods in each successive spring. An ivy-covered arch spans one of the pathways, and although within a yard or two of the house, and bordering on a tennis court. 104 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE the birds are always quite at home. When people are in the garden the elegant little creatures do not heed them ; they run about on the lawns picking up food almost at the feet of those who prize them. I was able to get a good series of pictures of one of the adult birds. As a rule, when they fed their young they entered the arch at quite a different part from w4iere the nest was, and at first I thought I should not be able to get a photograph of them. However, I fixed a piece of wood near the nest, and soon after it was up they settled on it before feeding their young. Both seemed a little shy of the camera and operator at first, but when they saw that neither would do them harm they would come near, and I had very little time to wait before exposing a plate. There are many birds which choose the ground for a nesting site in the orchard. Blackbirds, Thrushes, and Robins being among the number. It is not often PIED WAGTAIL. A SUBURBAN ORCHARD— SUMMER 105 that one of these succeeds, owing to labourers and boys taking the eggs. A Robin did succeed in hatching her eggs ; but when this was accompHshed the ground was ploughed and all the young perished. Sky-Larks try each year to rear a brood, and are more successful than some other birds. I was the means of saving one little nest full of young by bribing one who very much wanted to take the young and sell them. I made several attempts to photograph the Lark while sitting, exposing five plates in three days, only one, however, being satisfactory. Before I took the photograph I placed a heap of weeds near the nest and left it there some hours, and then hid the camera underneath. I stayed in a tree, and waited three hours : the Lark returned once, but seeing me flew away before I could take a picture. On the next day I again put the camera in position, and had one hundred feet of pneumatic tube attached to the shutter ; I then left the camera in hiding, and returned a few hours later to release the shutter on the chance of the bird being there. I had to expose the plate from the length of the tubing distant from the camera, and therefore could not see whether the bird was on her nest. Still she was not sitting, however, so that I changed the plate and returned again later, and exposed another plate, but once more she left just before the shutter was released. Thus I had no success that day ; but tried again on the morrow io6 WOODLAND, FIELD, AND SHORE in a similar way, with the result that another plate was wasted. 1 found that while sitting the bird could see me approach, and so left the nest before I reached the pneumatic ball. Finally I put another plate in the camera, and built a little wall of earth beyond the nest, so that the Lark should not see my approach ; SKY-LARK AT HOME. and then, after a few hours, I again returned, and this time was successful in getting a photograph which well repaid all my trouble. The Sky-Lark is one of our sweetest summer singers, and is a little bird which we could not do without. A meadow in springtime without a Lark would have its crieatest charm missino;. I once watched two .^ «L -,-