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HILL BIRDS OF

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FOR THE PEOPLE

FOR EDVCATION

FOR SCIENCE

LIBRARY

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM

NATURAL HISTORY

HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

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LONDON EDWARD ARNOLD.

HILL BIRDS OF
SCOTLAND

SETON GORDON, F.Z.S., M.B.O.U.

AUTHOR OF "THE CHARM OF THE HILLS " AND "BIRDS OF THE
LOCH AND MOUNTAIN"

ILLUSTRATED

LONDON

EDWARD ARNOLD

1915

AUDREY

PREFACE

It must ever be the case that those birds Hving their
quiet lives on the remote and inaccessible hillsides take
from their surroundings a certain charm and distinction.

It is this charm which renders the studying of these
mountain dwellers a pursuit of exceptional interest.
Many difficulties are set in the way : the hills do not
yield the store of their knowledge easily ; it is only to him
who knows them in storm as in fine weather, and in the
dead of winter as well as during long days of June sun-
light, that they give a measure of their wisdom. The
difficulty of investigating bird life on the highest hills
is largely due to the absence of any suitable base in their
vicinity ; thus I would strongly advise any ornithologist
who decides on studying the habits of hill birds to procure
a good strong tent, which at the same time is not too
heavy to be carried to the high corries.

At elevations of between three and four thousand feet
the main inconvenience to the camper is the low tempera-
tures which are experienced after sunset, and a plentiful
supply of rugs are a necessity if a night's rest is sought for.

During the months of June and July brilliant weather
frequently prevails on the high tops, and even at mid-
night the afterglow in the north is sufficiently strong
to render impossible the changing of photographic plates
unless the operator first covers himself with rugs.

These days of early summer, spent at the homes of the
Snow Bunting and the Ptarmigan, are retained in the
mind's eye for long.

viii HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

The mists curliiig smoke-like in the deep glens before
the hour of sunrise, the distant hills, heavily snow-flecked,
standing sharply against the horizon, the croaking of the
Ptarmigan and the flute-like song of the Snow x3unting,
all these things are among the priceless memories given
by the Spirit of the Great Hills.

SETON GORDOX.

CONTENTS

PAGE

The Golden Eagle . ..... 1

The White-tailed Eagle

The Osprey

The Peregrine Falco

The Kestrel

The Raven

The Grey Crow

The Ptarmigan .

100

The Black Grouse

130

The Red Grouse

137

The Capercaillie

150

The Woodcock .

156

The Snipe .

162

The Goosander .

169

The Curlew

179

The Greenshank

192

The Golden Plover .

200

The Dotterel .

214

The Oyster Catcher

241

The Snow Bunting

247

X HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

PAGE

The Dipper 260

The Crested Titmouse ..... 267

The Sandpiper ....•■• 278

The Dunlin- 284

Index .....••• 293

ILLUSTRATIONS

Young Ravens Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

Golden Eagle soaring off her Eyrie ... 4

Eyrie of the Golden Eagle 16

Golden Eagle's Eyrie containing a Solitary Egg . 16

Golden Eaglet nearly a Month Old .... 22
Golden Eaglet (taken about five weeks before the bird

left the eyrie) 22

Male Golden Eagle (after the first flight from the eyrie) 30

A Former Nesting Site of the Osprey ... 52

The Peregrine Falcon's Home 66

Nesting Site of Goosander, Kestrel, Dipper, and

Ring Ouzel 72

Young Kestrels 74

A Raven's Nest 80

Young Ravens 80

Grey Crow's Nest in a Sheltered Glen ... 94

Ptarmigan brooding on her Eggs .... 106

The Mist-filled Corrie of the Ptarmigan . . .112

Nest of the Ptarmigan 3500 Feet above Sea-level . 112

The First Autumn Snowfall 124

Nest of the Greyhen 134

Greyhen on Nest 134

Nest of the Capercaillie 152

xii HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

FACING PAGE

Goosander's Nest and Eggs in a veteran Scots

Pine 172

Goosander's Nest in a Cleft among Large Stones . 172

Curlew's Nest 182

The Haunt of the Greenshank 192

Dotterel going to the Nest 218

A Young Dotterel 218

Dotterel at her Nest nearly 3000 Feet above Sea-
level 218

Nest of the Oyster Catcher 242

The Corrie of the Snow Bunting .... 248
Nesting Ground of the Dipper 2000 Feet above the

Sea 260

Nest of the Dipper 260

At the Nesting Hollow of the Crested Titmouse . 268

Young Crested Titmouse 276

A Baby Crested Tit after its First Flight . . 276

HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

THE GOLDEN EAGLE

lOLAiEE DHTJBH, loLAiRE BHUiDHA {Gaelic) ; AcQiJiLA CHRYSAETUS (Linn.) ;
AiGLB ROYAL {Flench) ; Steinadler {German).

" Twice the life of a horse, once the life of a man,
Twice the life of a man, once the life of a stag,
Twice the life of a stag, once the life of an eagle."

In the eagle more than in any bird would appear to be
instilled a certain grandeur and nobility of character
which has caused it to be known to many nations as the
King of Birds. The highland chief still wears in his
bonnet three flight feathers of the eagle as a sign of
his chieftainship, and the tail feathers of this royal bird
bedeck the Indian when dressed for battle. To the high-
lander the eagle has ever been the synonym for great
strength. To him the bird is known as lolaire dhubh,
or the Black Eagle, and I cannot but think that this title
suits it better than that by which it is known to the Eng-
lish-speaking race. And not among hillmen alone is the
eagle thus spoken of. To the Arab the bird is " Hogarb
kakala," or Black Eagle ; while in Eastern Turkestan,
where it is trained for Falconry, it is called " Karakush,"
or Black Bird. In Spain too the eagle is " Aquila negra,"
though it is also known as Aquila real. Sometimes, on the
west coast of Scotland the eagle receives another name,
and here, perchance, an old shepherd or stalker may
speak of it as " An t'Eun Mor," or The Great Bird.

2 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

The eagle has often seemed to me to be in a singularly
fortunate position. In the first place, it is without a single
formidable enemy, if man be excepted ; and then again
it is to a great extent independent of the weather for its
food supply, for under the most rigorous conditions of
continued frost and snow it can still follow its hereditary
prey, the unobtrusive ptarmigan and the more demon-
strative Red Grouse, as they seek out sheltered quarters
till the passing of the storm. I think I am right in saying
that the eagle is the only bird to be seen on the highest
of our mountain-tops at the dead of winter. Here, at a
height of over 4000 feet above sea-level, even the ptar-
migan is unable to exist under the polar conditions which
prevail from November till May. It is not the cold which
drives the birds lower down the hill slopes, but it is the
complete absence of food. On these mountain plateaux
even the ridges, so exposed that no snow can remain on
them, are covered with a thick sheet of ice, and all food
is withheld from any bird which should be so hardy as to
wish to pass its time at these quarters. But with the
eagle the case is different. It is able, without a move-
ment of its great wings, to visit the highest grounds at any
season, and on more than one occasion I remember having
watched its dark form against those spotless expanses of
snow which no one except those familiar with the high
hills could imagine to exist on these Islands of ours.

There is no bird that I know which possesses the same
strength, the same gracefulness of flight, as the Golden
Eagle. I think I first realised the remarkable powers of its
soaring on a certain occasion when I was sheltering behind
a cairn on a hill -top over 3000 feet above sea-level. A
westerly wind was sweeping the hill with such strength
that progress had been difficult against it, j'ct a couple
of Golden Eagles, flying dead against the wind, moved
past me at a speed of between twenty and thirty miles

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 3

an hour, without any perceptible motion of the wings.
Since then I have often watched the Black Eagle wrestling
with the storm, and certainly he is at his best during a day
of wild gales and driving showers of rain and sleet. It
is on occasions such as these that the King of Birds appears
to take delight in pitting his great strength against that
of the storm, and, no matter how wild the hurricane, he
seems to revel in soaring, grim and inscrutable, in the
teeth of the tempest. One such October day I watched
him for a while. A westerly gale swept the hills, and so
tremendous was the current of air that it was only with
difficulty I made my way up the glen. To my right the
hillside rose sharp and steep, to a height of nearly 4000
feet, and when first I saw the eagle he was soaring almost
motionless against the gale. But after a time, as if in
play, the great bird, leaning on the wind, lifted himself
somewhat and then, tightly folding his wings, dropped
like a stone till he had descended to his former level. And
so, rising and falling alternately, the black eagle revelled
in the gale and in his great command of flight. The next
day I was again on the high hills. The westerly wind still
blew, but winter had descended on the corries during the
hours of night, and at intervals blizzards of dry powdery
snow were swept down the glen, making one seek shelter
for the time being behind the nearest rock. During the
height of one such squall an eagle crossed the hill-face.
Flying in the teeth of the storm, with only an occasional
movement of his wings to propel him, the king of the hills
moved quickly forward, though by what method he pro-
tected his eyes from the blinding snow I cannot say. It
may well be that the eagle has the power of drawing
across his eye the " third eyelid " on such occasions.

This third eyelid, or Nictitating Membrane, to give it its
more scientific title, is a more or less transparent layer of
skin which can be moved across the eye in a horizontal

4 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

direction. My experience has been that the space of
time during which the third eyehd covers the eye is merely
a fraction of a second, and I do not think it has been in-
vestigated whether it is used as a permanent protection,
but when an eaglet is frightened or annoyed the third eye-
lid is repeatedly brought into play. The old saying, to
the effect that the eagle has the power of looking straight
at the sun, may indeed have its explanation in the Third
Eyelid.

But though on a day of storms the power of flight of
the eagle is magnificent in its strength, during weather
when only a faint breeze rustles the heather on the hill-
top the King of Birds is laboured, even ungainly in his
movements. At times such as these he resembles in his
progress a gigantic rook, beating the air with ponderous
flaps of those great wings of his until he reaches an altitude
sufficient for him to bring into play his soaring powers.
Instances are, indeed, on record of eagles, after feeding
heavily on some fallen sheep or deer, being quite unable
to rise from the long heather of their sheltered surround-
ings. To my knowledge there have been two instances
of an eagle rising steadily and rapidly from a low level
until he was actually lost to view in the blue vault of
heaven. In the first case I was privileged to see the great
bird execute this extraordinarily impressive manoeuvi'e,
and more recently a hill stalker recounted to me his ex-
perience, which agreed closely with my own. The glen
where the incident happened was a deep one, and rising
from it was a precipice close on 1000 feet in height where
the eagle and his mate have had their home for generations.
For days on end tropical weather had prevailed amongst
the high hills. Not a cloud had crossed the sky, and only
the lightest of breezes arose with the noon to lighten the
burden of the heat. Then one day the^north wind crossed
the sea, and arrived at the eagle's home. And the eagle

(ioi.DKN Ea(;i,k SDAKING okk hek evkie.

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 5

felt the cool arctic breeze and sailed out from his giant
rocks which by now were burning hot in the fierce rays of
the sun. With his pinions wide outstretched he leaned on
the refreshing wind, which bore him strongly upward,
without a single stroke of his wings to help him on his
way. So he mounted higher and higher till he had risen
far above his native hill -top, and was outlined, a mere
speck, against the dark blue of the sky. Still upwards he
sailed, and for some time longer the watching stalker kept
him in view, in the field of his glass. But at length he
reached a point at which he was invisible, even by the aid
of a telescope. From that point what a gorgeous pano-
rama must have lain spread out before his sight in the light
of the summer sun. Even the highest tops were now
far far below him, and the river in its windings down the
great glen must have appeared as a thin silvery streak.

Another occasion which I recall. The great glen was
in shadow, for the sun had already sunk behind Cairn
Toul to the west. On the sister hill, Ben Mac Dhui, to the
eastward, the sunlight still shone, and as I watched I saw
an eagle emerge from the shadow on Cairn Toul. In his
true inimitable fashion he was soaring leisurely, proudly,
in wide spirals. With each spiral he mounted higher,
until at length he reached the rays of the sinking sun, when
he was transformed into a veritable eagle of gold, and, as
the sun sank still lower, into this gold there came imper-
ceptibly a tinge of pink which lit up each great wing
feather of this king of the glen.

The eagle remains with his mate throughout the year,
and probably pairs for life. I have on more than one
occasion witnessed the meeting between the eagle and
his mate. It would almost seem that the time and meet-
ing-place had been agreed upon before they set out on
their hunting with the coming of the dawn. Only a short
while ago, on a dull and misty October day — a day when

6 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the high hills have a special charm — an eagle passed close
above my head as I lay amongst the heather. He had
come from the highest grounds, from out of the impene-
trable mist which had stolen softly across the hill-faces
with the strengthening of the day, and he was sailing in a
straight line for a hill on the far side of the glen. With
the aid of a powerful glass, I marked the eagle until he
had reached a point above the far ridge. Here, with a
sudden stoop from the higher skies, his mate joined him,
and for a time they circled round each other with manifest
signs of happiness, before alighting together on the ridge
from where they could command the glen.

On fine clear days of summer, when only the lightest
of breezes stirs and when the sun shines full on hill and
corrie, the Golden Eagle is wont to resort to some favourite
perch of his, where he may stand motionless for hours
on end digesting his latest meal. I have found interesting
things amongst the castings which lie scattered around
such a perch. I once saw the remains of a claw of either
a grouse or ptarmigan, and, still more curious, a portion
of a ptarmigan's egg-shell. The eagle is tireless on the
wing, and spends days, especially during fine weather, in
crossing and recrossing the mountain-tops and driving
the ptarmigan before him. This he does at times for the
mere pleasure of the chase, and not because he is anxious
to satisfy his appetite upon an unlucky IMountain Grouse.
While near the summit of the Cairngorm one fine day
towards the end of October I noticed that ptarmigan
were present to the leeward side of the cairn — a strong
wind was blowing from the south-west — in greater numbers
than I ever had seen them at this elevation of 4000 feet.
The birds were showing considerable restlessness, and the
cause of this restlessness was soon apparent, for an eagle
showed himself moving idly over the plateau. There
were many ptarmigan on the ground which the eagle

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 7

commanded in his flight, yet every bird remained quite
motionless, crouching low against the hill until the eagle
had disappeared from view. Then, somewhat to my
surprise, the ptarmigan rose together in a body, and
rapidly winged their way in the opposite direction to that
taken by the eagle. They evidently had fears that the
great bird would return, and that on his return they
might not escape so easily as on the first occasion. Later
on in this same day, as the last rays of the afterglow
were brightening the western sky, I saw outlined against
the light a large pack of ptarmigan making their way
northwards, with the speed of an express train, over the
slopes of Beinn Mheadhoin. The time had long passed
when, under ordinary conditions, they would have made
themselves comfortable for the night, and I can only
imagine that a belated eagle, in quest of his supper,
was the cause of this hurried migration in the deepening
gloom.

A mid-October evening in the wild glens has a par-
ticular charm which no other season of the year can give.
On every side one hears the roaring of the stags — hoarse
bellowings which fill the corries and re-echo from hill to
hill. When we saw the fugitive ptarmigan my friend and
I were still a number of miles from our base, and as we
tramped on in the darkness the phantom-like forms of
big stags with their attendant hinds hurried across the
strath before us. Two stags there were which from their
deep and powerful voices I took to be the lords of that
glen. One of the beasts was on the hillside above us to
our left, while the other was on the flat to our right. Both
stags had been sending across repeated challenges as we
neared their territory. The one on the left I knew, by the
peculiar hoarseness of his roarings, to be a splendid
" royal " which had annexed to himself a couple of score
of hinds, but the beast on the right was a stranger to me.

8 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

At our approach, and in order to avoid us, the latter stag
moved, with his hinds, across in the direction Avhence
came the excited, almost frenzied roarings of the " royal."
I realised that a fight must ensue, and sure enough out of
the darkness came almost immediately the crash of antler
against antler borne across to us on the stillness of the
evening air, though the combatants themselves were
hidden by the night. For some minutes we heard blow
after blow repeated in rapid succession — until there was
sudden quiet and we realised that the vanquished had
taken his departure. And now there was but one stag
roaring out defiance into the gloom, and the voice was not
the hoarse voice of our " royal," but the deep mellow call
of his adversary and conqueror. Later on, as we neared
our journey's end, the sky lightened eastward and the pale
moon showed herself above the brow of the hill. Gradu-
ally increasing in the intensity of her rays she mounted
higher, and soon sought out, and illuminated, even the
shade of the veteran pines which cluster like so many
sentinels at the foot of this great glen.

Though the eagle remains constant to his mate through-
out the year it is not often that one sees the birds hunting
in pairs. On one occasion, however, an eagle and his mate
were moving close together over a hill -face. Ptarmigan
scattered before them in every direction, but the leading
eagle pursued and struck down one of the fugitives. With-
out heeding the falling ptarmigan he passed on, but his
mate, stooping earthwards, seized the prc}^ before it had
fallen many yards and continued on her flight, carrying
the ptarmigan in her talons. It is, I think, extraordinary
how rarely an eagle is seen to capture prey. Time after
time he is seen good-naturedly, as it were, pursuing a covey
of grouse or ptarmigan, which I imagine are quite unable
to see the faintest traces of humour in the situation, but
usually, just as he appears about to strike, he swerves

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 9

suddenly aside and transfers his attentions to another
member of the covey.

I have seen an eagle cross and recross a glen when on a
hunting expedition, searching a hill-face with considerable
care and then with a wide sweep crossing the valley and
beating a hill on the opposite side. On such occasions the
behaviour of the hunted grouse varies, I think, somewhat.
If they happen to be near the actual operations of the
eagle they will, in all probability, remain crouching quietly
in the shelter of long heather, trusting in their harmonisa-
tion with their surroundings to escape the keen eye of
their hereditary foe. But should they imagine that they
stand a good chance of escape by instant and precipitate
flight, they will rise, singly or together, and, flying faster
than ever they did at the most sanguinary grouse drive,
will endeavour to put as great a distance as possible be-
tween themselves and the eagle. One autumn day I was
crossing the hills from Perth to Braemar, and at the road-
side watched for some time an eagle at his hunting. I
had restarted the car and was moving down the glen at a
speed of about 25 miles an hour when a covey of grouse
shot past me at a velocity greater than that of an express
train. There was a whole gale of wind blowing behind
them, and I calculate that their speed of flight cannot have
been less than 100 miles an hour. As they passed I looked
back and saw the eagle still searching a hillside quietly.
Either he had not noticed the fugitives, or else he realised
that pursuit was useless and so let well alone.

I think it is possible to tell, by the flight of grouse and
ptarmigan, whether they are seeking to escape their heredi-
tary enemy, the eagle, or their more recent but much more
deadly enemy, man. As a general rule, when the eagle is
the cause of disturbance the grouse fly at a greater height
above ground and their flight is more precipitate and
aimless than when man is the cause of alarm. It is of

10 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

interest to realise how strong is the hereditary instinct
of dread felt towards the eagle, and in obedience to this
instinct grouse will cheerfully face in great numbers a
whole line of guns which must spell death to them, rather
than approach the locality where the eagle has been spied.
I was travelling on the Highland Railway recently, from
Inverness to Perth, and just at the county march, where
the line borders on the 1500 feet level, I saw a grouse
cross the line above the train, flying high and with a dis-
tinctive rocking flight. I was almost certain that an
eagle, and not the Highland express, was the cause of
alarm, and sure enough, on looking out of the opposite
window, I saw the enemy there sailing far off above the
top of a neighbouring hill. As well as striking down its
prey in mid air, the eagle at times captures, or attempts
to capture, grouse and ptarmigan on the ground, but that
it is not invariably successful in this, I think the following
incident will show.

One winter's afternoon I watched a pair of eagles on a
grouse moor where they had been seen regularly for some
weeks. One of the eagles had apparently retired to roost
on a heather-clad hillside when a grouse which I disturbed
crossed the burn and alighted almost on the top of the
eagle. The latter immediately rose and made a stoop at
the grouse but missed its mark, striking itself, with the im-
pact of its descent, heavily against the hillside. Somewhat
dazed, the great bird thereupon rose, and mounting in
spirals made its way across the hill till it was lost to sight.

The principal prey of the eagle in this country is the
Red Grouse, but where mountain hares are numerous on
the hillsides there is no doubt they are taken in preference
to the more active birds. There is one nesting site of a
pair of eagles that I Imow of — in the heart of a grouse moor
— where, every year that the birds visit the eyrie for the
purpose of nidification, the eggs are taken and sometimes

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 11

the hen bird is captured on the nest. The keepers have,
I admit, a strong argument on their side to support their
line of conduct, but I really believe that the birds in this
instance prey very largely on the blue hares which are
more numerous, hereabouts, than on any other hills that
I know of. This partiality of the eagle for hares can
easily be understood, for poor puss has but little chance
of escaping her winged adversary unless there is rocky
ground near. Once amongst the rocks, however, she is
comparatively safe. An instance is on record of an eagle
losing a hare under a large rock. The fugitive was hard
pressed when she made for this place of refuge, and on
seeing her disappear the eagle seemed at a loss how to act.
He hopped from one side of the rock to another ; then
apparently realising that he was powerless under such
annoying circumstances spread his wings and sailed
quietly away. A different state of affairs prevails, how-
ever, when the pursued hare seeks cover amongst bushes
or undergrowth, for then the eagle routs out the fugi-
tive by repeated blows from his wings upon the shelter-
ing bush.

Having captured and killed their prey, eagles are some-
times seen to drop their victim from a great height and,
stooping like lightning after the falling body, reach and
secure it long before it has touched the ground. Some-
times, though seldom, it is true, they are too late in their
pursuit, and a veteran highland stalker told me an in-
teresting story of how he once discovered a freshly-killed
hare lying on the snow with no footprints of any kind
around. It had undoubtedly been dropped by an eagle,
and personally I have more than once found ptarmigan
on the ground under circumstances which led me to sup-
pose that in these cases also the eagle was the culprit.

The eagle and the hill fox have similar tastes, and be-
tween them is, as a rule, an armed neutrality. But at

12 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

times the eagle will not hesitate to bear off a young fox
cub to his eyrie, and I have before now seen the remains
of a desperate encounter on the hill, with the fox's fur
scattered abroad in every direction. A certain interest-
ing fight between a fox and an eagle may be set down
here. The eagle was devouring the carcase of a blue hare
when a fox sprang from the surrounding heather and
seized the great bird by the wing. A well-contested
struggle ensued in which the eagle made a desperate at-
tempt to defend itself with its claws and succeeded in
extricating itself from its enemy's grasp, but before it
had time to escape Reynard seized it by the breast and
seemed more determined than ever. The eagle made
another attempt to overpower its antagonist by striking
with its wings, but that would not compel the aggressor
to quit its hold. At last the eagle succeeded in raising
the fox from the ground, and for a few minutes Reynard
was suspended by his own jaws between heaven and earth.
Although now placed in an unfavourable position for
fighting his courage did not forsake him, as he firmly kept
his hold and seemed to make several attempts to bring
the eagle down, but he soon found the strong wings of
the eagle were capable of raising him, and that there was
no way of escape unless the bird should alight somewhere.
The eagle made a straight ascent and rose to a considerable
height in the air. After struggling for a time Reynard
was obliged to quit his grasp, and descended much quicker
than he had gone up. He was dashed to the earth, where
he lay struggling in the agonies of death. The eagle
made his escape, but appeared weak from exhaustion and
loss of blood.

A stalker of my acquaintance was " spying " a certain
hillside when his glass rested upon a fox curled up comfort-
ably asleep on a bare patch surrounded by heather. An
eagle, being apparently attracted by the bare hillside,

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 13

swept earthward and was just about to alight when he
spied Reynard lying asleep within a few feet of him.
His surprise — and alarm — were great, and he shot sky-
wards again with considerable speed, but the fox merely
raised his head inquiringly and then resumed his nap.
I heard recently of an eagle being disturbed in a Scots fir
just as it had commenced to feed on a magpie which it
had captured. The eagle on the approach of the stalker
sailed away out of sight, but somewhat exceptionally, I
think, returned later to finish its victim.

St. John in his now classical work on Wild Sports in
the Highlands, states that the Martin and the Wild Cat
are the eagle's favourite morsels. I much doubt, how-
ever, whether St. John was correct in his statement — at
all events both of these animals are so scarce that they are
negligible at the present day as an article of food. An
eagle has been known to stoop at a hare pursued by hounds
and carry it off a hundred yards before them. It is said
to attack Gannets, but I much doubt whether this is really
the ease, and more than likely the observer confused the
aggressor with a specimen of the White-tailed Eagle,
which is a frequenter of our coast-line. The Golden Eagle
is almost entirely an inland nester in this country, and as
the Gannet never flies across the most minute point of
land, in the ordinary course of events the two birds are
unlikely ever to come to close quarters. The Golden
Eagle will sometimes capture and devour black game,
but owing to the habits of these birds — they frequent
thick pine woods as a rule — they usually succeed in avoid-
ing the attacks of the eagle by diving headlong amongst
the sheltering pine branches.

Though the eagle undoubtedly prefers to capture his
prey for himself, he is not above descending to carrion,
and often becomes gorged on the remains of a dead stag
or sheep. I do not think, however, that his young are

14 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

ever fed on dead meat — they always have their provender
provided from day to day in a perfectly fresh state.

The Black Eagle nests early. In January he may be
seen assisting his mate in the repairing of his eyrie by
carrying to it large pine branches, and this repairing or
building of the nest goes on till mid-March, at which time
the birds which are nesting in the less exposed localities
begin to lay. One 23rd of March I visited an eyrie situ-
ated in a Scots fir in a deer forest. The elevation for the
eagle was rather a low one — about 1400 feet —and I found
that the hen bird was already covering her eggs, though
she did not allow of near approach. The eagle utilises
two kinds of nesting-places in Scotland. It chooses for
the construction of its eyrie either an ancient tree com-
manding a wide outlook, or a ledge on some precipice or
steep hillside. Towards the west coast of Scotland its
eyrie is rarely found in a tree, but in the central deer
forests, where most of my notes have been obtained,
the two nesting situations are about equally utilised. I
think those eagles which build in trees have rather a
better chance of rearing their broods in safety than those
which construct their eyries on ledges of rocks. To begin
with, the birds choosing the former situation are inde-
pendent of the weather because, no matter what depth
of snow may cover the ground, they can build their eyrie
and cover their eggs without fear of the storm. On the
other hand, it is sometimes impossible for the birds nest-
ing on a ledge of rock to approach their eyrie till well
into the spring, so great an accumulation of winter's snow
may cover it during the month of March. I also think
that the young eaglets hatched on a rock are more liable
to fall from the nest. For sanitary purposes they are in
the habit of approaching the extreme edge of the eyrie,
and on one occasion I found a youthful eaglet in a most
precarious position, and maintaining its hold by one leg

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 15

only. I replaced it in the centre of the nest, but next
time I visited the eyrie it had fallen to the ground fifty
feet below. Of its companion — there were originally two
eaglets — there was no sign, so I imagine the fall proved
fatal to it. The parent eagles had built a rough nest
round their surviving youngster, in order, I suppose, to
show any marauding fox or stoat that the eaglet was not
abandoned to the unkind world. I do not think eaglets
are so liable to fall from trees because they probably
realise more fully, from the swaying of the tree in the
wind, the fall that awaits them if they should lose their
hold of the nest. Again, eagles nesting on trees have, if
the situation of the tree be well chosen, an uninterrupted
outlook on every side, while those nesting on rocks have
an excellent view in one direction but can usually be
closely approached from above without their being ren-
dered suspicious of danger.

The period of incubation is about six weeks — perhaps
a day or two under — and towards the end of her first
period of self-denial as a mother the eagle becomes most
reluctant to leave her eggs. Under such conditions she
will put her head over the side of her eyrie and glare
fiercely at the intruder, repeatedly rolling the third eye-
lid across her eye the while. Before the eaglets have
filled the eggs with their small down-clad bodies the
mother eagle is full of suspicions, and will leave the nest
while danger is still some way off. On one occasion, how-
ever, an eagle of my acquaintance sat so closely, even
during the first few days of incubation, that I was able to
watch her at close quarters through the glass. I re-
member remarking on the dark colour of her plumage ; so
that when I visited the eyrie five weeks later on, I was
surprised to see an eagle several shades lighter than my
former friend sail out over the glen from her nesting-tree.
Of course it is possible that this was the mate doing his

16 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

period of covering the eggs, but the stalker who was with
me at the time was emphatic that the eagle, during her
six weeks of close sitting, invariably became lighter in
her plumage. In the ordinary course of events the young
eagles have their plumage of dark brown, almost black,
feathers, while the veterans wear a dress of light tawny
colour.

The nest of the Golden Eagle is a structure of consider-
able size, and with every year of its tenancy becomes
increasingly bulky. If built on a tree, its foundations
usually consist of large fir branches, some of them as thick
as a man's wrist, while towards the top of the nest green
branches from the same species of tree are also utilised.
These branches are invariably pulled from the pine itself
by the eagles, as a dead branch is never used for the top
of the nest. In nine eyries out of ten one finds, lining the
shallow depression that is to receive the eggs, leaves from
a grass-like plant known to scientists as Luzula sylvatica.
I remember how, as a small person, this plant used to be
pointed out to me as the Sword grass. As to the correct-
ness of this term I am in doubts, but certainly the edges
of the grass are sharjD out of the ordinary, and if they are
drawn across the hand they cause blood to flow. Some-
times Luzula sylvatica is used as a lining along with dried
fronds of the bracken, and I have seen an eyrie containing
not a leaf of Luzula. I must say, however, that in this in-
stance the nest was built on an open hillside, with no woods
anywhere in the vicinity, so the eagles had little oppor-
tunity of gathering the " grass " which grows as a rule
in sheltered and wooded localities. A few sprays of the
Cranberry — Oxycoccus — and the Crowberry — Empetrum
nigrum — ^usually complete the furnishing of the home.
The eagles are fond of decorating their eyries. On more
than one occasion I found a bamboo cane in the nest, and
once a red rubber ring. A pair of eagles which had a

Eyrie of the CioLOEN Eagle.

The photograph shows how one of the eggs is more strikingly marked than the other.

(lUl-UhN I%A<.I.k\ i-.SRlK iO.\IAIM\(. A ^Ol.II'ARV ECA).

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 17

thriving eaglet in their eyrie were in the habit of bringing
to the nest, at intervals of a day or two, young and delicate
raspberry shoots which they thought — and rightly — im-
proved the look of their home.

Although as a rule the lining which receives the eggs
is soft and comfortable, I once saw in an eyrie a large
stick, nearly the thickness of my wrist, against which the
eggs were lying, and which one would have thought must
have caused incessant inconvenience to the brooding eagle.

The eggs are two in number. Occasionally three are
recorded, but in the numbers of eyries I have examined
I have never seen the latter number, nor have I heard of
anyone who has done so, and out of over fifty eyries robbed
between 1870 and 1895, only three contained three eggs.
The eggs are of a dirty white ground colour, and are
blotched and spotted with reddish brown. It is a note-
worthy and interesting fact that one of the eggs is invari-
ably more lightly spotted and marked than its fellow. It
has been my experience that when two eaglets are reared,
one is a cock, the other a hen, and it is possible that this
marking of the eggs may have something to do with the
sex of the bird, though I am afraid this theory is opposed
to the scientific one that the sex of the bird is determined
only just before the hatching of the egg. As far as I
know, however, the subject has never in this case been
investigated. Some eggs of the eagle are strikingly hand-
some, but others have hardly any markings on them at
all, and I believe that many of the clutches taken from
Archangel are pure white.

It is quite remarkable what long- continued exposure
the eggs of the Golden Eagle will stand. I have known
of a case when an eagle's eyrie was discovered on a day
of severe frost and periodic snow-squalls. The mother
bird was sitting closely, but was put off her eggs, and I
think it is no exaggeration to say that she remained away

18 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

from her nest at least two hours, possibly longer, yet one
of the eggs hatched out successfully, though the other —
whether owing to this or to another cause — was addled
when I climbed to the nest a month later.

On fine sunny days the eagle sometimes leaves her
eyrie for a few minutes, to stretch herself and perhaps to
reconnoitre also. I was once watching an eyrie from a
distance of 200 yards, when I saw the eagle leave her
nest and rise almost perpendicularly into the air. This
evolution of hers caused the greatest perturbation amongst
the grouse of the hillside who rose in a body and fled at
top speed over the brow of the hill. Having assured her-
self that all was well, the eagle settled herself on her eggs
and fell so fast asleep that even when I stood at the foot
of the tree and whistled, it took her some time to realise
all was not well and to thrust her head inquiringly over
the edge of the nest.

A season rarely passes without the parent eagle ex-
periencing at least one storm of snow during her period of
incubation. If her nest is built on a tree, such a storm,
as I said before, has no danger for her, but if she has
her eyrie on a rock, she may be obliged to leave her eggs
owing to the great depth of snow which is drifted in upon
the sheltered ledge by the force of the storm. I have
certainly never known this to happen, but I once saw an
eagle covering her eyrie when an average depth of over two
feet of snow lay on the hillside ; and if this great storm
had been accompanied by heavy drifting, I doubt whether
the eagle could have held her ground. There are many
ideal nesting sites for the Golden Eagle among the gloomy
precipices of the Cairngorms, but these sites are not
utilised — ^for the reason, I think, that the snow lies too
deeply on the rocks during the months of March and
April. There is only one eagle's nest I know of at a
greater elevation than 3000 feet, and I suspect that

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 19

this nest is now tenantless, for I have not seen the eagles
near.

The Golden Eagle is not, I think, inclined to choose
a nesting site because of its inaccessibility, for I have
known an eyrie to be placed almost on the ground ; and
there is on record an instance of an old woman once walk-
ing into an eagle's nest and carrying off the eggs in her
apron. Often a ledge seems to be chosen from the fact
that a sapling birch or rowan is growing on it, and this is
utilised as a support for the foundations of the eyrie.
That such a tree is called upon to stand a considerable
strain is realised when it is stated that an eyrie may attain
a width of from five to six feet. A certain pair of eagles
have been singularly unfortunate in their nesting of late.
A heavy storm of wet snow broke down the eyrie which
they had occupied for many years in succession. The
eagles thereupon moved to an ancient home of theirs in a
rock hard by, but ill-fortune still pursued them, for a large
heather fire on the hillside beneath burnt so fiercely that it
ran up the eagles' rock and completely gutted the eyrie. The
eagles now decided to trust their treasures to the care of
a tree once more, and constructed a new eyrie on a fu* near
their fallen nest. The nest was built and the eggs laid,
but it is probable that the foundation of the eyrie was
faulty, and that one of the equinoctial gales overthrew it.
At all events, it was found lying on the heather, and the
broken eggs beside it. The stalker who made the dis-
covery told me that the dried-up remnants of yolk showed
that incubation was not far advanced, so it is possible —
though I think unlikely — that the eagles built a new nest
and laid a second clutch of eggs in another part of the
forest.

It is, perhaps, unjust to condemn from circumstantial
evidence alone, but I have a shrewd suspicion that the
eggs of the Golden Eagle are sometimes stolen by the

20 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

wary and resourceful Hoodie Crow. I have known a
clutch of eagle's eggs disappear mysteriously, and though
it is possible this may have been due to human agency,
it is more probable that the hoodie was the culprit. A
stalker once wrote to me that he had found, immediately
beneath the nest of a grey crow, a small portion of an egg
which he took to be a turkey's. To the casual observer
there is really surprisingly little difference between an
eagle's egg-shell and a turkey's, provided only a small
portion is seen, except that the eagle's egg-shell is
considerably rougher and thicker. Now since not a
single representative of the turkey tribe was to be found
for many miles round the grey crow's nest, I am inclined
to think that the hoodie had succeeded in extracting an
egg from the eyrie of a pair of Golden Eagles near during
the absence of the owners.

It is during the last days of April that the earliest-
hatched eaglets first see the light of day from behind the
sheltering feathers of their mother. They are clad in
warm coats of white down, and have surprisingly shrill
and penetrating voices for small people of such tender
age. They are provided with a little white diamond on
the convex part of the bill to enable them to break through
the strong shell of their prison. I should say the average
date for the first eaglet to emerge from its egg is April
29th — that is, for eagles nesting between 1500 and 2000
foot levels. The second egg does not hatch out till at
least a couple of days later. The eaglets are supplied
liberally with food from the first, but from this generous
larder they are allowed only the most tender morsels until,
with the strengthening of spring, they become more
robust, and are permitted to feed, more or less, on what
they like. Tlie liver of a rabbit or hare or the most appe-
tising and easily-digested portion of a grouse are offered
the baby by its parents, and it is not until it has reached

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 21

the age of a month that it is allowed to consume the
entrails of the prey. When the eagles are young, they are
fed twice a day — at daybreak and about five in the after-
noon, and at the latter hour the parent eagle may often
be seen winging her way back from a hunting expedition,
carrying in her talons a fat grouse, which gives her a curious
appearance, not unlike a miniature aeroplane.

The most interesting sidelight I ever had on the
domestic affairs of the eagle was just at sunrise one July
morning, in a glen where a pair of these birds have nested
in a fir tree from time immemorial. The eyrie had origin-
ally contained two birds, but the cock eaglet had taken
his departure a day or two before my visit, and was await-
ing to be fed somewhere amongst the long heather below
the nest. I could see, from my hiding-place, one of the
parent eagles standing on guard on the hill -top. The
morning wind ruffled its feathers as it stood there on the
skyline, and from time to time it cast its glance upwards,
evidently expecting the arrival of its mate. At last it
soared up, and I saw the second bird arriving from what
had evidently been an early morning foray. The foray
had been unsuccessful, however, and for a time the two
birds circled round each other as if discussing future
plans, for a hungry eaglet yelping in the nest below brought
home to them the fact that a grouse or hare must be
provided at all cost. Soon a new plan of campaign was
formed, and the bird which had previously been on guard
set out westward, flying high, and evidently making for
hunting-grounds a considerable distance off. Its mate
accompanied it a short distance, and then, sweeping round,
returned to the hillside and took up guard above the
nest.

It is possible, I think, by paying repeated visits to an
eyrie, to tame the eaglets to a certain extent. There was
one eaglet which, after a time, used to feed from my hand.

22 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

I first tempted him with choice morsels from a grouse in
the nest, and then offered him a piece of banana skin,
which he swallowed philosophically. This bird was in a
neighbourhood much infested by ants, and during the
time I watched him many of these aggravating insects
were crawling up and down his legs. Beyond regarding
them with an intent and curious stare, however, the eagle
in no way tried to rid himself of the ants, for he seemed
to regard them as one of the annoying necessities of exist-
ence. A butterfly flitting near interested him, and the
movements of a hind in the wood below also distracted
his attention for a while, but he betrayed for the most part
a bored expression, and once yawned heavily. As I was
leaving, his mother suddenly appeared over the rock
bearing in her talons a grouse for the youngster's mid-day
meal. The eaglet at once became most excited and
called repeatedly, but the parent bird, on seeing me, shot
up into the air and, to the intense annoyance of her child,
disappeared from sight.

The range of prey brought to the eyrie by a pair of
Golden Eagles during the nesting season is great. The
two staple articles of food, however, are the Red Grouse
and the Blue Hare, though where rabbits are plentiful
they are also brought to the nest in numbers. One never
sees an entire hare at the eyrie, only the haunches, so
that possibly the head and body are consumed by the
parent bird on the spot where the victim was captured.
Curiously enough, I have never found the remains of a
ptarmigan in an eyrie, which is the more noteworthy
from the fact that some of the eagles I have studied do
their hunting as much on ptarmigan ground as on grouse
moors. I have seen the tail of a squirrel in an eyrie, and
also on one occasion the remains of a stoat. Sometimes
small birds, such as the Meadow Pipit, are brought as food
for the young. Deer, calves, and lambs are taken also,

^ z.

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 23

though I cannot say I have ever come across the remains
of either of these animals in an ejTie.

I believe the eagle is more destructive to lambs on the
west coast than in the central districts, partly, no doubt,
owing to the more extensive sheep farms towards the
western sea-board. From one such farm thirty-five lambs
were carried off in a single season, so it can be realised that
between eagle and shepherd there exists little friendly
feeling. There is an instance recorded of an eagle carrying
a lamb no less than two miles, and then dropping it none
the worse for its adventure. It is also related that a poor
man in Ireland once tided over a season of famine by
taking daUy some of the food the parent eagles brought
for their young. He succeeded thus in providing for him-
self, his wife, and his family, for several months, and by
clipping the wings of the young birds, protracted their
stay in the nest.

In this country a couple of grouse and a mountain
hare would be held as quite a satisfactorily-proportioned
larder, but in an ejTie in Germany the remains of three
hundred duck and forty hares were once found — if report
be credited. On a certain occasion the tables were turned
on the bird of prey, for a cat which was carried by the eagle
to her eyrie in an apparently dead condition is said to have
revived and eaten the eaglets during the parents' absence.

Up to the age of three weeks the eaglets are still clad
entirely in do■^^^l, and there is no sign of the permanent
feathers. Once these appear, however, they grow rapidly,
and after three more weeks the down is visible only in
patches. It is about the neck that the dowTiy covering
lingers longest, and an eaglet, after having assumed the
full plumage on the other parts of the body, still has the
feathers of the neck in an unopened and rudimentary
condition. In its early youth the eaglet has no fear of
the human intruder, though maybe if it becomes cold

24 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

owing to the protracted absence of its mother, it will yell
repeatedly and lustily. I once quieted such a youngster
by placing a freshly-killed grouse to wmdward of it, to
act as a screen against the cold north-easter which was
sweeping the glen.

The Golden Eagle has a curious and quite erroneous
reputation for bravery where the defence of its young is
concerned which is difficult to explain. It is always a
disagreeable duty to shatter a reputation — and a firmly-
grounded reputation, too — but I am afraid that the eagle
shows, what to us at all events appears to be a philosophic
indifference as to the fate of its young, and as for attacking
the intruder at its eyrie, well, such a thing appears never
so much as to enter its head. I have had my camera set
up on the edge of an eyrie and have photographed the
eaglets in various positions while the mother eagle remained
quietly, and seemingly without anxiety, perched on a rock
on the hill face opposite. Whether she by this time — I
had on several occasions visited the eyrie before — realised
that I had no evil intentions towards her children, I do not
know ; but she was either trustful or indifferent.

The traditions handed down in the Highlands of eagles
carrying children to the eyrie are largely mythical. No
doubt such cases have occurred, but they are due to the
carelessness of mothers who have left their babies un-
attended in some out-of-the-way spot. Under these cir-
cumstances what can be more natural than that an eagle
on his hunting operations should spy what seems to him
to be a dainty morsel, and should immediately stoop
down and carry it off to his young ? We cannot well
blame him. Sometimes, during recent years, such cases
have been reported in the papers, but have been proved,
one and all, to be without foundation.

In Spain the wild goats have a relentless enemy in the
eagle, for the birth of the kids coincides with the period

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 25

when the birds of prey have young, and the kids are used
largely in feeding the eaglets.

A mysterious fate often overtakes one of the eaglets
in an £yrie when two birds are hatched out. Various
theories have been put forward to account for this disap-
pearance. Highland stalkers will tell you that the mother
eagle herself does away with the more weakly of her chicks,
or even that a battle takes place between the two small
eaglets and that the less powerful is killed in the conflict.
I imagine that food has a great deal to do with the
disappearance of one of the eaglets. Sometimes, too,
one of the birds probably falls out of the nest, but it is
certainly noteworthy that no small body is ever found.

The eagle is essentially a bird of silence. When leaving
her eyrie the hen rarely utters a single cry, and not even
when the young are in danger does she use her call note.
There are exceptions, however, and I have once or twice
heard her call, several times in succession, as she sailed
out from the nest. The eagle almost invariably flies right
away when disturbed from her eyrie, but on a certain
occasion that I shall always remember, the great bird
displayed remarkable tameness. She left her eggs with
obvious reluctance, and then flew only a short distance,
to a dead branch of a pine rather over 100 yards distant.
After waiting a time, she actually flew straight towards
me, settling on a tree close by. Her anxiety as to the
safety of her eggs was great, and she searched the sky
eagerly, expectantly, for her mate, on whom she evidently
relied for support. But no dark form against the clouds
rewarded her gaze, and she gave utterance to a succession
of curious barking cries quite unlike anything I have ever
heard before or since, until she again took wing, and this
time sailed right out of sight.

Most of the pairs of eagles of my acquaintance have
two or even three eyries, which they use in rotation, in

26 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

different parts of the same glen ; and it is interesting to
know that Col. Verner found this to be the case in Spain
also. Sometimes, I think, one of these spare eyries is
used as a larder, for I once found the hind quarters of a
hare freshly killed lying in a nest which contained no eggs.
During the early months of spring the eagles appear to be
undecided as to which of their homes they should occupy
for the approaching nesting season. They visit them in
turn, and add a few green pine branches to each eyrie, in
order, I imagine, to make it plain to any wandering and
homeless eagles that the glen is already occupied. There
is one rock I know of where there are no less than four
eyries within 50 yards of each other, all the property
of the same pair of eagles.

Owing to their extensive hunting operations a pair of
eagles will not allow a second pair to set up house within
three or four miles, at the nearest, and as a result the
Golden Eagle can never become really numerous anywhere.
However, I am quite sure that in the Highlands he is
holding his own, and as long as he does not encroach too
much on grouse ground he is rarely disturbed.

The eaglets remain in the eyrie for a period of nine
weeks, so that they make their first flight about the 8th
of July. The date of this flight is extremely regular,
and the earliest day on which I have known the
young eagles to leave the nest was July 5th. On this
date I made an expedition to an eyrie built on an ancient
Scots fir at a height of 1800 feet above sea-level.
After a spell of cold and misty weather an anti-cyclone
had brought with it cloudless skies and light, variable
breezes, and as I moved up the glen the sun shone with
great power. The eyrie was soon located, and the two
eaglets, a cock and a hen, were seen to be almost full-
fledged. I had hoped to obtain some photograi)hs of
them in their eyrie, but I had not reached a point half-

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 27

way up the tree — and a none too easy climb it was — when
both eaglets took wing simultaneously, and flying side
by side, made for the foot of the glen. Their flight was
somewhat unstable, and they gradually sank earthwards
until they came to ground at the side of the hill burn
which drains the glen. Here, after a certain amount of
searching, I discovered the hen eaglet standing quietly
in a small tributary of the main stream, and, after having
photographed her, I set about looking for the cock. He
had wandered off up the hillside, and I found him amongst
long heather, where successful photography was pre-
cluded. The difficulty of transporting my subject to
more suitable surroundings was overcome by my divest-
ing myself of my kilt and carrying the eagle a distance
of some two hundred yards in the folds of the feileadh beag.
Far from struggling, my captive remained quite quiet
and passive during the journey, and ultimately I placed
him and his sister on a large dead branch, where I pho-
tographed them together. They could be distinguished
from fully-matured birds only by the shortness of their
tails and by the unformed feathers on the neck. Though
on this occasion they could not rise from level ground,
their wing power had increased so rapidly, that when,
nine days later, I revisited the spot, I found the only
bird I saw so strong in his flight that he would not allow
me to approach within fifty yards of him, but soared out
over the hill in masterly fashion.

Young eagles invariably show considerable powers
of flight at the first, but I think the most remarkable
performance was given by an eaglet which had been
brought up in an eyrie on a steep hill face overlooking
a deep glen. The eaglet left its nest on its first flight one
gloomy morning in mid-July and treated me to an exhibi-
tion of flying which was quite noteworthy. Sailing out
from the eyrie, the eaglet at first had considerable difficulty

28 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

in maintaining its balance, but as its confidence increased,
so did its power of flight. I imagined, from my previous
experience of first flights, that the eagle would gradually
descend, and would come to earth somewhere on the
opposite hill face, but, on the contrary, it maintained
its level well, and made off, powerfully and easily, up the
glen until lost to view round a bend in the burn. A few
days later I visited another eyrie, also on a rock. The
nest was empty, but there were ample signs that the
youngster had left only a short time previously, and as
we stood beside the nest he sailed heavily across the strath
and alighted 200 yards from us on the hillside opposite.
I wished to secure some photographs of him, and com-
menced a careful stalk, but I had reached a point still
100 yards from him when he rose and flapped his
way down the glen. For over an hour I pursued him back-
wards and forwards, but although his flights were less
than half a mile — he had obviously had little practice,
and there were no air currents to buoy him up — he never
permitted of a nearer approach than 50 yards.

For some time after they leave the nest the young
eagles remain with the parent birds, by which they are
initiated into the mysteries of capturing the timid hare
and the quick-flying grouse. All that summer they hunt
together, but during the opening months of the new year,
if not before, the parent eagles turn on their offspring and
drive them from the glen where they spent the earliest
days of their life. Mr. Abel Chapman relates the follow-
ing extraordinary occurrence from Spain. He shot a
Serpent Eagle, and in this bird found the almost entire
remains of a young nestling Golden Eagle — a thing almost
unbelievable were it not for the authority and standing of
the writer. The eagles in Spain seem to be similar to
those in this country as regards their habits. The eggs
are, as here, laid in mid-March, but if report is correct,

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 29

the young birds leave the eyrie as early as June. One
eyrie measured was no less than eight feet deep ; it was
built of sticks, was lined with Esparto grass and adorned
with green ivy leaves and twigs of Abies pinsapo.
The nest is almost invariably placed on a crag in Spain,
a tree being rarely selected. However, Mr. R. B. Lodge
mentions that between Serajevo and Gravosa he saw a huge
nest of a Golden Eagle in a small tree not ten feet from
the ground. In Spain, too, a Golden Eagle has been known
to appropriate for itself a discarded eyrie of Bonelli's Eagle.

In Scotland I once saw an eyrie in a comparatively
small birch tree, where the eagles successfully reared a
single young one despite the fact that the eyrie was only
a hundred yards from a right of way along which a number
of pedestrians passed. On the same tree occupied by a
pair of eagles was found, on one occasion, a jay's nest,
a dove's nest, and several nests of sparrows. I have more
than once seen Coal Titmice flitting unconcernedly around
an occupied eyrie, and imagine that they may even make
their nests in some of the holes near the foundations of
the eagles' nest. The eggs of the eagle are variable in
shape, but it may be said the dimensions vary from 3*23
by 2*59 to 2'85 by 2-16 inches. This is taking the average
of a large number of clutches.

For some months after leaving the eyrie the eaglets
lack that gracefulness and command of flight which is
possessed by their parents. One October I watched a
young eagle of that year making its way over the plateau
of Lochnagar. A ptarmigan rose near the line of its
flight and it swerved off, appearing to have in its mind
the capture of the fugitive, but its efforts in that direc-
tion were indifferent and the ptarmigan made its escape
without difficulty.

Quite apart from its inferior powers of flight, a young
eagle can be distinguished from its parents by a patch

30 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of white on either wing, and from the fact of its having
the basal three-fourths of the tail white, while only the
remaining fourth is a rich brown. So marked is this
feature that the young has obtained the distinct name of
Ring-tailed Eagle.

The age at which a young eagle reaches maturity is
doubtful. Booth put this period at five or six years, which
does not appear to be excessive when the longevity of the
eagle is taken into consideration, for it seems to be a
general rule that the longer lived the bird, the more slowly
does it reach its prime ; and the Solan Goose, which prob-
ably does not exceed or even reach the age of an eagle, takes
quite five years to assume the full nesting plumage. It is
true that the age which the eagle attains in the wild state
must remain largely a matter for conjecture, but there is
an instance of one having lived 104 years in captivity.

Though the eagle has no enemy worthy of his steel,
yet there are adversaries which, though impotent as
individuals, are still able to cause the King of Birds a
good deal of annoyance when they attack in jostling
crowds. Chief among these annoying adversaries is the
Grey or Hoodie Crow. The hoodie has its home in the
wild deer forests, where the stalkers are unwilling to molest
it, and it uses every opportunity of mobbing the eagle.
It must be a humiliating and unenviable position to be
swooped at by a score of yelling black pests, but the eagle
under such circumstances has never been known to forget
his position as being of royal blood. With ease he might
pursue and strike down, one after the other, the Grey
Crows, but he never betrays by the least sign or move-
ment that he is even aware of their presence. With a
young eagle, however, the case is different, and I once saw
such a bird driven to take shelter in a wood by the re-
peated attacks of the hoodies. Even after the object
of their hostility was perched on a dead branch the crows

Mai.k Goldkn Ka(;i,1'; — after tup: first fi.u;ht from thf; evkie.

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 31

still swooped down one after the other, but failing to
make the eagle move on at length gave up their attacks.
These unwelcome attentions from members of the crow
family are not confined to this country, for Mr. Abel
Chapman puts it on record that in Spain the eagle is
mobbed by Choughs. The raven is much more formid-
able than the hoodie as an adversary, and though in the
part of the Highlands with which I am most familiar it is
not present in sufficient numbers to be worth reckoning
on, still I heard of an instance, on the west coast, where
the ravens on a certain deer forest increased to such an
extent that they drove every eagle from the district.

The rook has rarely a chance of mobbing the eagle, but
that it does avail itself of an opportunity when such is
presented to it is borne out by the following incident.
On the county march between Perth and Aberdeen I saw
an eagle sailing down the corrie at the head of which its
eyrie was built. It was pursued by a number of small
antagonists which I imagined at first to be hoodies, but as
pursuers and pursued approached nearer, I realised that
a number of common rooks were harrying the great bird
of prey. Time after time they stooped at the eagle,
but I noticed that they exercised a certain amount of
discretion in their attacks, for they rarely came within
reach of their adversary's bill or claws, and contented
themselves for the most part in stooping at the out-
stretched wings. It seems to be an invariable rule in
nature that the pursued never turns upon its pursuers,
and this is well illustrated, I think, with the eagle. The
latter is chased by all kinds of small birds, notably by
Missel Thrushes, and yet, as I have said, I have never
seen or heard of one retaliating on the smaller assailants.

The Golden Eagle not infrequently attacks red deer,
and I was once witness of a picturesque incident in this
connection while crossing the Larig Ghruamach pass which

32 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

links Aviemore in Inverness-shire with Braemar in Aberdeen-
shire. At the top of the pass where the river Dee has its
origin I rested awhile, and soon I saw my friend the eagle
sailing, in the teeth of the cold northerly breeze, across
the hill face of Ben Mac Dhui. All at once he hesitated
for a moment in his flight, then closing his wings shot
earthward, but checked himself and moved forward again.
A thick mist was rolling up, so that I was unable to follow
the eagle beyond the point where he entered the cloud.
I was anxious to see what had been the cause of his sudden
pause and stoop, and on turning the glass on to the spot,
I saw a herd of stags looking up uneasily towards the
eagle. The bird in its passing had seen the herd and had
stooped playfully just to bring the beasts to the alert. A
few hours later I met a stalker, and on my relating the
episode to him, he told me that an eagle — ^in all probability
the same bird — had been seen a few days before to drive a
herd of deer before it up a hillside by swooping down at
them repeatedly. This manoeuvre caused a good deal of
inconvenience to a stalker who was also after these same
stags, for the eagle was driving the deer in a direction less
favourable for the stalk.

From the following incident which was related to me,
it would appear that a single roebuck has more courage
than a whole herd of stags. An eagle, sailing over a hill-
side, spied a roe feeding, and swooped do\^ii on the animal.
The roe, far from showing alarm, stood erect on his hind
legs and beat out vigorously with his fore-feet with great
anger. The eagle thereupon turned its attentions to a
herd of stags which were grazing near. The red deer at
the first " stoop " of the eagle thought discretion to be
the better part of valour and moved quickly off over the
hill. One can imagine that after the incident there was
one very proud roebuck in the forest. Once on Ben
Alder an eagle was seen to hover above a herd of deer and

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 33

then to pounce on to a calf. The animal's mother im-
mediately rushed to the spot and threw herself on the
eagle, whereupon hind, calf, and eagle rolled over and
over dowTi the hillside. On releasing itself the eagle
flew off, somewhat shaken, and the life of the calf was
saved.

There is a story that once an eagle was attacking a
hind, which made for a thick wood. As she ran through
the plantation at top speed, the eagle, in its endeavours to
bring her to a standstill, grasped a branch with one of its
feet while holding the back of the hind firmly with the
other. But its strength was useless against the weight
and impetus of the quickly-moving deer, and it was torn
asunder as the hind pressed forward.

There is no doubt that eagles use a great deal of intel-
ligence in their efforts to encompass the destruction of a
stag or hind. They realise that they are powerless to kill
the best in fair fight, so they attempt to achieve this end
by strategy. Choosing out a young or sickly deer, they
endeavour, first to separate it from the herd, and then to
drive it over some rock where it will either kill itself out-
right or else lie in a more or less defenceless state and fall
an easy victim. The eagle hovers about the head of the
unfortunate animal, buffeting it with its wings, and
endeavours so to blind it that it stumbles over the rock
unknowingly.

It is remarkable, considering how many traps are set
for hoodies and foxes, that an eagle is only occasionally
captured in this way. In a forest on the borders of Forfar
and Aberdeen an eagle was found in such a trap. The
bird had only just died when discovered — but not from
want of food, for the remains of two freshly-killed grouse
and a blue hare were lying within reach. They had evi-
dently been brought by the eagle's mate for its unfortunate
companion, and the incident more fully brings out, I

34 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

think, that the eagle is, of all the birds, the one most
nearly approaching human intelligence.

There is an old Gaelic narrative of how the birds once
upon a time agreed to make king the one which should fly
highest. The eagle expected to win, but the wren chal-
lenged it. The eagle, soaring out of sight into the sky,
cried out, " Cait am bheit thu nis a Dhreathan duinn ? "
" Wliere are you now, little wren ? " But the wren had
secretly perched on the eagle's back before he had started,
and now flew up still higher, calling as he flew, " Fad fad
OS do cheann." " Far, far above you." So the wren was
made king. I was recently conversing with an old High-
land stalker on the eagle, and he assured me that it
renewed its youth every seven years, and had indeed
discovered the secret of perennial youthfulness. He stated
that the eagle's bill is renewed every seven years, and with
the renewal of the bill the whole body is renovated also.
A quaint theory this of the old hill-man's, yet I believe
this idea is widely prevalent among the older generation.

Fights between eagles are rare — they seem to rise
superior to the quarrels of lower humanity — yet on one
occasion an eagle was captured by a sheep dog Avhilst
fighting on the ground with a rival. Another instance
occurred of two eagles fighting so savagely that they
became interlocked, and could not separate.

Although, as I said before, the eagle is holding its own
in Scotland at the present day, this is entirely due to
the increase of land given over to deer. Were it not for
the 3,000,000 acres of deer forests Scotland possesses, the
eagle would by now have shared the fate of the Osprey
and the Sea Eagle ; for during the earlier part of last cen-
tury a very large number of Golden Eagles were destroyed.
From March 1831 to March 1834 in Sutherland alone as
many as 171 old birds and 53 eggs and 3'oung were taken,
and a little earlier — between 1820 and 1826 — 295 old birds

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 35

and 60 young were killed. A keeper trapped 15 eagles
in three months in 1847. The captured birds found a
ready market, for about the year 1850 English buyers used
to give £5 for an eagle for stuffing. Large as was the number
of eagles formerly killed in the Highlands, it does not
nearly approach a record from Norway, where, during the
five years ending 1850, no less than 10,715 eagles were
accounted for.

The Golden Eagle is nowadays protected by law, and
few are shot, except when they wander from their forest
homes to adjoining grouse moors. In these latter situa-
tions the eagle can never be looked upon with favour,
although I am sure that the damage ascribed to them is
often exaggerated. The range of a pair of eagles during
the nesting season is so wide a one that on a well -stocked
grouse moor the actual damage done must always be slight.
But it must be admitted that many a grouse drive has
been entirely spoiled before now by the sudden and un-
welcome appearance of an eagle just at the critical moment.
I do not think that, at the present time, the eagle is found
south of Perthshire to the east, and Argyllshire to the west
in this country, but formerly it had a much wider range.
In Wales the eagle bred on Snowdon in the seventeenth
century. Here it was known as Eryr Melyn — " Yellow
Eagle"— and Eryr Euraidd—" Golden Eagle." The
Snowdon Hills are, I believe, to this day known as " Creig
ian'r Eryri," or The Eagle Rocks. Evans in the History
of Wales (1880), speaks of the Golden Eagle being found
even at this late date about Snowdon. Going back to the
sixteenth century, we have evidence of eagles in Denbigh-
shire, and Leland writes of Castell Den : " There bredith
on the rock side that the Castelle standith on every year
an Egle, and the egle doth sorely assaut him that destroith
the nest by going do^vn in one Basket and having another
over his hedde to defend the sore stripe of the Egle."

36 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

The Lake District was another former home of the
eagle. So long ago as 1272, it was written that the
tenants in Liddcsdale must preserve the nests of sparrow-
hawks and eagles. In the seventeenth century they
bred among the mountains of central and western Lake-
land, notably in the region of the precipices at the
head of Ullswater lake. Pennant wrote of the mountains
at the head of Windermere, that eagles breed in many
places. " Those who take their nests find in them great
numbers of moorgame ; they are besides very pernicious to
heronries : it is remarked in the laying season of the herons,
when the eagles terrify them from their nests, that crows,
watching their opportunity, will steal away their eggs."
In 1833 the Golden Eagle bred in Dumfriesshire, while
in Kirkcudbrightshire the last nests were towards the end
of the fifties. In 1668 a Golden Eagle's eyrie was re-
ported from Derbyshire on trustworthy evidence, and
about 1750 it bred on Cheviot, a fine hill 2700 feet in
height in Northumberland. In Ireland it still frequents
some of the most mountainous and least-frequented dis-
tricts, but is not so common as was formerly the case.
It is said that the Golden Eagles nesting on the Outer
Hebrides are smaller and darker in colour than those of
the mainland. The eggs here are laid during the first
week of April , which is over a fortnight later than on the
mainland.

There is no bird which has so wide a range as the
Golden Eagle — in fact, it is met with almost through-
out the world. Considering the numbers of eagles which
leave the nest each year in Scotland, it is surprising
that there should not be a more marked increase in their
numbers, but it is possible the young birds migrate to the
continent, as the North Sea must form a quite ineffectual
barrier to a bird possessing the wing power of the eagle.
With the exception of Iceland, from which, curiously enough,

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 37

it is absent, the Golden Eagle breeds from Scandinavia
to North Africa. It is common in Spain, where it has a
deadly hatred against the Griffon Vulture, and it extends
across Europe and North Asia. It is found among the
Himalayas and in the Atlas Mountains. In the Himalayas
it is confused with the Bearded Vulture, which is some-
times given the name of Golden Eagle. In China it is a
resident species, but does not inhabit Greenland, so far
as I know. In Lapland it makes its nest in large trees,
and this is often the case in Germany also. In Palestine
it is common in winter, and occurs sometimes in Arabia
and Egypt, and even in Abyssinia. In America it ex-
tends as far south as Mexico, though the North American
forms are, I believe, rather smaller and darker than the
British specimens. In the northern parts of the Schwarz-
wald the eagle is considered to be a rare visitor, but in
March I had an excellent sight of a pair from the summit
plateau of the Hornisgrinde, a hill just over 4000 feet high.
They crossed over the plateau, sailing and circling in true
eagle fashion until they were lost to view towards the
valley of the Rhine. As the eagle does not nest here-
abouts, I imagine that these two specimens came from
the Alps, a hundred miles or so to the southward.

In the Crimea, where many ideal nesting sites exist, the
eagle is common. Along the coast of the Black Sea,
from Sevastopol to Yalta, are giant cliffs where the eagles
are constantly seen. I once observed here as many as
seven in the air together while midway between the two
towns above mentioned, and after watching them for a
time several of the birds sailed up into the clouds and were
lost to view. I have seen this same thing happen in
Scotland, and have wondered whether the birds can find
their bearings without difficulty when making their way
through an impenetrable blanket of fog. I imagine that
in the Crimea the food supply must be a matter of con-

38 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

cern, for on that peninsula there are no birds such as the
eagles prey on in these islands. Either, I imagine, the
eagles must feed largely on sea-birds or else subsist upon
the smaller land songsters, of which there are many in
the district. It seemed to me that the Crimean eagles
were larger and not quite so graceful in their soaring as
our own native birds ; but I had not sufficient time to
study them as fully as I should have liked. In Eastern
Turkestan, where it lives on the stag, the antelope, the
wolf, and the fox, the eagle is trained for falconry, and
such a trained bird was valued at the price of two camels.

In this country the Golden Eagle has no wide migra-
tion, though it often moves over to grouse moors during
severe weather. Scarcely a winter passes without the
report of the capture of a Golden Eagle along our east
or south-east coasts, but such birds are, in nine cases
out of ten, immature Sea Eagles. A friend of mine
told me he once saw in the New Forest a bird which
seemed to him to be a Golden Eagle — and he has had
much experience of the eagle in Scotland. There was
a whole gale of wind blowing at the time, and the eagle
was only a short distance from the ground. A Golden
Eagle was obtained in Lincolnshire on November 1,
1881, and again on October 29, 1895, but there are few
authenticated cases of its appearance south of the Tweed
during the last half-century. Eagles vary so much in
size that accurate measurements are difficult.

As is the case with most birds of prey, the female
is the larger and more powerfully built of the two, and
a specimen is recorded from Northumberland which
measured no less than 11 feet 3 inches from wing tip
to wing tip. This is quite out of the ordinary for a
British eagle, but recently, when in the forest of Gaick,
I saw an eagle which was noticeable as having, even at
the height at which it was soaring, a spread of wing of

THE GOLDEN EAGLE 39

exceptional length. I should say that, on an average,
a mature cock eagle has a spread of wing from 6 to 7 feet,
and a hen from 7 to 8 feet. The length of the birds varies
from 2| feet to 3| feet, and the weight from 12 to 14 lbs.
These measurements are from a male eagle : Length
32 inches, wing 24*5 inches, tail 13 inches, tarsus 3-7
inches. A female showed a length of 35*5 inches, a wing
of 27*5, tail 14 inches, and tarsus 3*8 inches.

The Golden Eagle has the bill horn-coloured or deep
blue-black, the tip being the darkest. The iris is of a
clear orange bro^vn, the pupil black. The crown of the
head and the nape are russet. Chin and throat dark
brown. Breast brown, ending in a reddish tint. Back
dark brown, the lesser wing coverts being lighter
in colour. Primaries nearly black. Secondaries brown-
ish black. Wing coverts brown. Rest of the body brown,
and this brown becomes lighter with advancing years.
Tail deep brown, paler at the base, and barred irregularly
with dark brown. Upper tail coverts pale brown tinged
with grey. The legs, which are heavily feathered, are
light brown. The feet are yellow. Expanse of foot 7
inches, including the claws. These latter are black, and
the outer one is the smallest of the four. During the
first year there is a well-defined white bar on the upper
half of the tail, but this becomes less with each moult.
In immature plumage the secondaries are white for three-
quarters of their length, and this applies to the tail also.
Upper tail coverts white, some tipped with brown, under-
tail coverts the same. Legs covered with white feathers
inside. The plumage is very similar in male and female.
When newly hatched, the eaglets have pink eyes, and
when plumaged the wing coverts are patched with white.
White varieties of the Golden Eagle have been from time
to time reported. I believe the following distinction
enables immature Golden Eagles to be identified from

40 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

immature Sea Eagles : The foot of the Golden Eagle has
the tarsus clothed and each toe covered with small reticula-
tions as far as the last phalanx. In the foot of the White-
tailed Eagle, on the other hand, the reticulations are
confined to the tarsus.

I should be reluctant to bring this chapter to an end
without putting forward an earnest request to all nature
lovers, and to all lovers of the remote hill places, that they
should see the Golden Eagle is always afforded protection.
He is, without doubt, the finest representative of bird
life in these islands, and I am sure that without his dark,
inscrutable presence the glens and corries of the hill
country would appear lonely and desolate indeed.

2. THE WHITE.TAILED OR SEA EAGLE

lOLAiE BHREAC (Speckled Eagle), Iolair bhuidhe (Yellow Eagle),

lOLUR-BHAIN, lOLAIR CHLADAICH (ShorO Eagle), lOLAIR MHARA,

Iolair riabhach (Brindled Eagle), Iolair-suil-na-gri^inb (Gaelic) ;
Orn, Assa (Icelandic) ; Aiglb a Queue blanche (French) ; See-
ADLER, Meer-adler (German).

So lately as 1883 no less an authority than Seebohm put
it on record that the White-tailed Eagle was a far more
common bird than the Golden Eagle in the British Isles.
Even though the statement was not too correct, it gives,
I think, a fair idea of the rapid decrease of the Sea Eagle
within our confines during recent years, for in 1914, when
this chapter is being written, there are at most only two
pairs of these birds nesting in Britain. As is the case
with the Osprey, the Erne — as the Sea Eagle was formerly
called — is on the point of extinction. The cause of its
rapid decrease may be set down to its partiality for lambs,
for it is not, like the Osprey, a migrant in the true sense
of the word, and has no dangers to run during the migra-
tion north and south like the Fish Hawk. I believe that
if its nesting sites had been more remote and inaccessible,
as those of the Golden Eagle, it would have held its own.
Unlike the latter bird, however, its eyries have been
situated almost entirely along the coast-line — on the west
of Scotland, where sheep-farming is largely practised — and
its fondness for lambs has resulted in traps being laid for
it in various ways by irate shepherds and sheep farmers.

An instance may be quoted as showing the merciless
destruction of the Ernes. The hen bird was shot near
the nest, but the male eagle succeeded in procuring another
mate. Soon he himself shared the fate of his fu'st

42 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

wife, whereupon the second and foster-mother, showing
a commendable interest in the eaglets, took her de-
parture and soon reappeared with another male to assist
her in her self-imposed task of rearing the family. Her
devotion did no more than to cause her own destruction,
and the imported male took his departure, abandoning
the eyrie and its contents.

There was, it must be admitted, a strong incentive to
shoot the eagles quite apart from the damage they caused,
for a reward of ten shillings was formerly paid in Skye for
each Erne accounted for, and on one occasion no less than
three eagles were shot in the course of a single morning
whilst gorging on a dead sheep. Is it to be wondered at,
then, that the Sea Eagle, formerly so numerous, had
ceased to breed on the Isle of Skye by the year 1890 ?
In Orkney, too, the eagle was treated as an outcast of the
most dangerous type. Here there is, or was, an old
custom that anyone killing a White-tailed Eagle should
be entitled to a hen from every house situated in the
parish in which the bird was killed, while so long ago as 1800
the Commissioners of Supply paid out five shillings for every
eagle destroyed. Doubtless, as a result of such incessant
and organised persecution, the Sea Eagle ceased to nest
in Orkney about the year 1880. About this time, too, it
disappeared from Cape Wrath, though on the sea cliffs
of Ireland it was said to be not uncommon in 1883, and
nested in Mayo till recently. In earlier times the Bass
Rock, that well-known landmark from North Berwick,
had its pair of Sea Eagles. In 1835 it still nested in the
Lake District, and other strongholds were the Isle of
Man, the Isle of Wight, and Lundy Island.

In disposition it is much more roving than the Golden
Eagle, and scarcely a season passes without some immature
specimen, on its migration south, being shot by a sports-
man and reported in the local press as a Golden Eagle.

THE WHITE-TAILED EAGLE 43

The persecution of the Erne has by no means been
confined to the islands. On the mainland, in Western
Ross, a single keeper killed no less than fifty-two Sea Eagles
during the course of twelve years, and during a winter a
hill shepherd accounted for five. Sometimes, however, the
birds nested in lofty precipices, where a successful shot
was difficult, and where the nest was out of reach. Under
such circumstances burning peats were let down to the
nest, with hopes that the peat would set fire to the eyrie.
I believe this expedient was tried with considerable suc-
cess, and also that of lowering bundles of cotton wool
into a nest containing young eagles. The youngsters,
on seeing the white object descending on to them, imagined
that an enemy was making an attack, and lay on their
backs, striking upwards with their talons, as is the custom
with the young of birds of prey when defending themselves.
Their claws, during their thrusts, became firmly embedded in
the cotton wool, and thus they were drawn up to the surface.

Choosing, as it does, less alpine nesting sites than the
Golden Eagle, it is somewhat surprising to find that the
Erne is rather later in commencing nesting operations
than the latter bird, and it is usually the first week in
April before the eggs are laid. The nesting materials
are much the same as those utilised by the Golden Eagle,
only I believe that freshly-pulled fir branches, which are
such a feature of Golden Eagles' eyries, are not found in
nests of the white-tailed species. Still, in both cases
the plant Luzula sylvatica is chosen as a receptacle for
the eggs, though the White-tailed Eagle may sometimes
add a bunch or two of seaweed for the adornment of the
home. The eggs are usually two in number, three are
occasionally found, and an instance is on record of four
being discovered. When first laid they are of a greyish
white colour, quite unspotted, and can thus be at once
distinguished from those of the Golden Eagle. In size

44 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

they average Si by 2| inches. It is said that, when three
eggs are found in an eyrie, one is always unfertile.

In these islands the nesting site of the Sea Eagle has
usually been a lofty precipice along the sea coast. At
times the situation chosen was an inland one, however,
and in an eyrie sixty miles from the coast a fresh mackerel
was found. Like its relative, the Golden Eagle, the white-
tailed species has often two eyries placed a short distance
from each other, and these it uses not quite alternately,
but as occasion may demand. The eyrie is a bulky struc-
ture, from 6 feet to 8 feet in diameter, and often reaches
a great age before it is brought to the ground by a heavy
snowfall or a gale of exceptional severity.

Though in the British Isles the Sea Eagle has not been
found — at all events within recent times — nesting in trees,
it not infrequently chooses such a situation in Germany,
where its eyrie has been seen on the Scots fir, oak, and
beech. Curiously enough, a Grey Crow's nest has been
taken in the same tree as that containing a Sea Eagle's
eyrie. Even where lofty cliffs abound the Sea Eagle does
not always make use of them. Thus in Shetland, where
inaccessible nesting sites are plentiful, an eyrie has actually
been found on the ground.

When hatched out, the young of the White-tailed
Eagle are clad in down of a considerably darker colour
than the fledgelings of the Golden Eagle. The parent
birds, immediately after the hatching of the eaglets, sit
more closely than at any other time. When flushed
from her eyrie, the mother Sea Eagle usually sails off in
silence, but at times give utterance to sharp yelping cries
which are, if anything, more penetrating than those of
the Golden Eagle.

From the day they first see the light, the eaglets are
supplied with a most liberal allowance of food. In an
eyrie containing two young birds about a week old were

THE WHITE-TAILED EAGLE 45

found two eider ducks, one hen red-breasted merganser,
one hen goosander, and a brace of long-tailed duck.
Certainly no stinting of rations. On another occasion
close on a dozen cod-fish of various sizes were found in
a nest. I believe the grey gurnard is a favourite article
of food with this eagle, on account of the habit of these
fish of swimming near the surface of the water.

It is generally the first days of August before the
young Sea Eagles are able to leave the eyrie. As the nest
is frequently placed on high cliffs overlooking the sea,
it is thus necessary that the eaglets should be strong on
the wing before they make their initial flight. This, the
following incident will show. A young Sea Eaglet on
making its first flight from the eyrie set out seawards.
The parent bird pursued its child, and convinced it of
its mistake. The eaglet now endeavoured to regain
the land, but its strength was not sufficient to carry it
back to safety, and it fell into the water. The parent
bird, showing the greatest anxiety, succeeded in picking
up the youngster, and even in carrying it a short distance,
but before the land had been gained was obliged to drop
the unfortunate eaglet, which perished in the waves.

A couple of Sea Eagles, taken from the eyrie when
young, once became so tame that they joined their owner
on his walks, circling in the air high above him, and even
retrieving his game. They were unfortunately shot by
a sportsman who imagined they were wild representatives.

The prey of the Sea Eagle consists by no means en-
tirely of fish. On one occasion a specimen was seen in
hot pursuit of a grouse. The line of flight of the fugitive
took it across a sea loch. Upon reaching the farther
shore of the loch, the grouse dropped suddenly to the
ground and darted into a hole amongst the rocks, just
above the level of the water. The eagle, somewhat at
a loss for a plan of action, took up its station on the top

46 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of a boulder, hoping that the grouse would in time emerge
once more into the open. As quickly as possible the
witness of the occurrence hurried to the spot, and found
the unfortunate grouse half-drowned in its hole owing
to the flow of the tide, seemingly preferring to meet its
death in this fashion, rather than to risk an encounter
with the eagle.

It was, as I have said, largely owing to its fondness for
sheep and lambs, especially the latter, that the Sea Eagle
has had every man's hand directed against it along the
Western Highlands. It has been seen raising and dropping
young lambs merely for sport, just as its relative the
Golden Eagle passes its time with grouse and hares, rising
with them to a great height, dropping them from its
talons, and endeavouring to overtake and recapture them
before they reach the ground.

I think that the White-tailed Eagle is a more carrion-
eating bird than the Golden Eagle, for whereas the latter
bird prefers to hunt its prey, the Sea Eagle seems to find the
carcase of a sheep, lying on the hillside, or thro^vn up by
the tide, equally appetising. Its feeding habits, too, are
not so cleanly ; even when it has captured a rabbit, it
often eats only the viscera, leaving the flesh untouched.
It preys, too, on various aquatic birds, such as gulls,
puffins, and guillemots, and in a specimen was once found
a puffin which had been swallowed whole. Even before
the eggs hatch out prey is sometimes brought to the nest
— a guillemot and two kittiwakes have been found in an
eyrie containing eggs only. Unlike the Golden Eagle it
undoubtedly does some of its hunting by night, and its
plunge into the sea after some unlucky fish has not in-
frequently been heard, the great form of the eagle passing
swiftly by in the gloom. The propensity of the Sea Eagle
for striking at fish of great size has sometimes ended
disastrously for the would-be captor. A Sea Eagle once

THE WHITE-TAILED EAGLE 47

came ashore in Hoy, quite dead, with its feet fast in a fish.
Again in the Shetlands a halibut was found with an eagle's
feet fast in its back, the bird itself having rotted off.
A specimen was also found with its claws fast in a salmon.

A curious tradition exists in the north — a tradition
having probably as its origin the fact that an eagle at
times strikes at a fish too powerful for it to raise from
the surface of the water — to the effect that a Sea Eagle,
having despatched its victim, spreads its wings wide, and
using them as sails, makes for the shore with its prey.
But that the Sea Eagle is capable of lifting great weights
is borne out from the fact that a trout of no less than
twelve pounds was taken from an eyrie in the Lake District.
Durmg spells of frost, when the inland waters are frozen
over, the Sea Eagle is said to break the ice — provided the
latter is not of too great thickness — by stooping at and
through it. Still, should necessity arise, the bird is able
to exist without food for long periods, and one has been
known to fast for four or five weeks. Such was the hatred
of the Highland farmers towards the Sea Eagle that
when captured the birds were sometimes thrown alive into
some disused barn, and there left to starve slowly to death.

It is not, I think, disputed that the Sea Eagle has a less
courageous nature than the King of Birds. One could
not imagine a Golden Eagle waiting quietly for an otter
to end its repast before finishing off the remnants, but a
Sea Eagle was unwilling to come to close quarters till the
otter had finished its meal. A pair of skuas have been
knowTi to attack and rout a Sea Eagle which had ventured
too near their nesting site. A Sea Eagle has been known
to attack a sleeping seal, though the result of the en-
counter is not chronicled, and one has been seen to carry
off a pig.

It is probable that, like the Golden Eagle, the White-
tailed Eagle pairs for life, so that encounters between

48 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

two male birds are not frequent. On one occasion, how-
ever, two Sea Eagles fought over a loch, and after a time
both combatants fell to the water. Whether the bird
which struck the water first was dead before its fall cannot
be stated definitely ; certain it is that the upper of the
two birds flew off apparently uninjured, while the lower
floated lifeless on the surface of the loch.

The powers of flight, too, of the Sea Eagle are, perhaps,
also inferior to those of the Golden Eagle. This fact was
noticed by Aristotle, for he observes that the Sea Eagle's
flight is weak on account of a shade which crosses the eye.
This statement caused Aldrovandus to examine the eye,
and he discovered that the portion of the pupil which is
commonly covered only with the cornea is in the White-
tailed Eagle lined with an exceedingly delicate membrane
that has actually the appearance of a small spot.

More fanciful was the statement made by Pliny, to the
effect that Sea Eagles breed small vultures, which in their
turn engender greater vultures. It is comforting to be told
that these latter have not the power of propagation. In
more recent times Buffon believed in the mating of the
Sea Eagle with the Osprey, though I do not think recent
investigations have borne out this belief.

Albino Sea Eagles have been noted from time to time.
In 1879 such a White Sea Eagle was seen in the Shetlands.
The fact is of interest, for as I write — 1914 — one of the last
remaining representatives in our islands is a white speci-
men— in all probability the same bird as that noticed
thirty-five years ago, for she is now of such a great age that,
her last clutch of eggs proving infertile, her mate left her,
and she now haunts her former nesting site alone, appear-
ing like a gigantic gull as she takes wing and soars leisurely
out over the sea.

Like the Osprey, the Sea Eagle has a wide range
throughout Europe. In Iceland it is resident, though

THE WHITE-TAILED EAGLE 49

not common, and I believe on the decrease. It feeds in
that island on trout and char. In South Greenland it is
said to be common throughout the year, but to be found
in North Greenland only in the summer ; it is also met with
nesting in certain localities from the Arctic Circle to the
Mediterranean. I was informed while in the Maritime
Alps, that the Sea Eagle was found in that district, though
it was considerably outnumbered by the Golden Eagle.
It is of migratory disposition, and many of the north nest-
ing specimens winter in Southern Europe and North
Africa. A few of these birds are said to remain to nest
on the Canary Islands, Algeria, and Egypt. In Siberia
the White-tailed Eagle breeds south of the Arctic Circle,
and on the approach of winter moves down into Persia,
Turkestan, and Southern China, occasionally crossing the
Himalayas to India. In the Crimea, and eastward from
that point, it is replaced by Pallas' Sea Eagle, which has
been known to make its nest on a low sandy island of the
Black Sea ; and there is a tradition amongst the Tartars
that the wounds of its claws are fatal. Along the lower
Danube valley the Sea Eagle is numerous, but in Central
Russia it is rare.

Description. — Head and upper neck ashy grey, inclining
to white with a creamy tinge. Most of the feathers are
dull brown at the base. Lower neck, forepart of the back,
and wing coverts dull brown, all the feathers being broadly
edged or terminated with dirty white, tinged with cream
colour. The remainder of the back, rump, and upper
tail coverts dark brown, some of the latter being marked
or marbled with white ; quills blackish brown, the shafts
whitish. Inner secondaries of a somewhat lighter brown,
scapulars dark broAMi. Tail rounded, and pure white
except at the base, where the feathers are blackish brown.
Under parts brown. Under tail coverts dark brown.
Bill pale bluish, becoming yellow at the base. In old

50 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

birds the beak is almost entirely yellow. Iris, straw
coloured ; feet, light yellow ; claws, bluish black. Total
length, just under three feet. In immature birds the tail
is darker — in fact, it has been stated that it is not until the
eagle has reached the age of six years that the tail becomes
fully white. As is the case with the Golden Eagle, the
female bird is the larger, but closely resembles her mate
in the matter of plumage. As compared with the Golden
Eagle, the Sea Eagle has the tail shorter, the wings broader
and more rounded.

Since writing this chapter I hear that a pair of White-
tailed Eagles are still occasionally seen in a certain
district of Skye, which must be nameless, and my in-
formant has little doubt that they breed on some high
cliffs near the site of an ancient eyrie.

On the lonely island of St. Kilda the Sea Eagle some-
times makes her nest, but here the birds are not looked
on with favour by the inhabitants. The people of
St. Kilda endeavour to set fire to their nests or to frighten
the birds away, since their presence disturbs the valuable
Fulmar Petrel.

THE OSPREY

PANDION HALIJETUS

Iasgair (The Fisher), Iolair-iasgaich, Iolair-iasgair {Gaelic) ; Skopa
{Russian) ; formerly known in Burgundy as Crau pfeCHEROT, or
Crow Fisher.

To give an account of the history of the Osprey in these
islands is to chronicle a succession of regrettable events
— events which are responsible for the loss to us of a noble
bird, that in former days added a great charm to many
a lonely loch hidden away amongst the Scottish hills.
To say the Osprey is extinct with us would not be quite
correct, since one or two birds are seen every year in
various parts of the country during the spring and autumn
migration, and there are rumours even now that a pair
renew their eyrie and rear their family in an unfrequented
spot along the west coast of Scotland. But the un-
fortunate fact remains that through our want of protec-
tion, lolair an uisge (the Eagle of the Water) as the Osprey
is known to the Gael, must now, to all intents and pur-
poses, be counted among our lost birds. Not so many
years ago there was scarcely a loch in Scotland but had
its pair of Fishing Eagles. On Loch Maree was formerly
an eyrie, and Loch Awe, in the Campbell country, har-
boured at least one pair. To Loch Tay, that famous sheet
of water, containing early spring salmon in their thou-
sands, the Os])rey made his way each year with the coming
of the warm season, and Loch Lomond, I believe, sheltered
another pair. On Loch an Eilan, under the shadow of
Cairngorm, and on Loch Arkaig, in the country of the
west coast and of Ben Nevis, the Osprey lingered till only

52 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

a few years ago, but now has ceased to frequent even
these ancient strongholds. It is no exaggeration to say
that it is owing to two factors, and to two factors alone,
that the Fishing Eagle has failed to hold its own within
our confines. These factors are, the migratory instinct
of the birds, and the large remuneration given by mis-
guided collectors for British-taken eggs of the Osprey.
Neither cause, I think, would of itself have been sufhcient
to banish the Osprey, but against the two combined it
has had little chance of struggling successfully.

After the close of the nesting season, and on the ap-
proach of the cold weather, the Osprey is in the habit of
leaving its native loch and making its way south. A
supply of food in northern waters is no doubt difficult to
procure during the winter months, for the trout and
other fish seek the depths of the lochs, where the Osprey
cannot penetrate. Besides this, the Fishing Eagle is a
comparatively thin-skinned bird, and is thus less fitted to
withstand the cold than its second cousin, the Golden
Eagle. The Eagle makes its home among the hills and
glens summer and winter, and is still common enough
if one knows the corries to search ; the Osprey forsakes
the shelter of the hills, and is on the point of extinction.

Some years ago a pair of Ospreys were shot on the
river Avon in Hampshire. The birds were on migration
at the time, and were probably making their way from
some Scottish loch to their southern winter quarters.
It is possible that they were the pair from far-distant
Loch an Eilan — at all events, the loch is nowadays
deserted. On Loch an Eilan the Osprey had its eyrie in
earlier times on the ruined castle still bidding defiance to
the storms and situated on a small island not more than
a hundred yards from the mainland. I did not, unfortu-
nately, know the loch when it gave the Ospreys their
nesting site, but their former home may still be made out

THE OSPREY 53

from the mainland, though the winds from the high hills
have partially demolished the nest, except the fomida-
tions, which still remain. It was on a wild January day
that a friend and I rowed over to the castle and inspected
the disused eyrie. The nest was composed of sticks of
various sizes, and from what I could see must, in the days
of its use, have closely resembled a Golden Eagle's eyrie.
It had evidently been a structure of considerable size,
and, indeed, one which was weighed turned the scale at
four hundred pounds !

From her nest the Osprey had one of Scotland's finest
views. At the time of our visit a sou'- westerly gale had
removed the snow from the lower grounds, but on Cairn-
gorm to the east it still lay deep, covering the higher
slopes of the hill with an unbroken mantle. On the sum-
mit the force of the gale was such that snow was being
drifted across the hill-top in dense clouds, though lower
down the " fresh " of the earlier part of the day followed
by frost had formed an icy cake to the snow, preventing
the wind from scattering the particles before it. Across
the loch white-tipped waves were being hurried, and in
the pines fringing the water the wind was passing with
that characteristic sound — as the breaking of surf upon
a distant shore. One could not but feel a sense of regret
that the birds of prey had been banished — it is to be feared
for ever — from their loch.

Year after year, before April was many days old, the
Ospreys used to arrive at Loch an Eilan, untired after
their long journey from the far-distant Mediterranean,
where they had spent the winter in summer sunshine,
fishing in a sea of deep azure blue. For long the Ospreys
held their own, and a pair, probably their children, con-
structed a nest in a Scots fir on the shore of Loch Mhor-
lich, the tree being, I believe, known as Craobh na h'lolaire
(the Eagle's Tree).

54 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Misfortunes, however, were not long in overtaking
them. There has always been a certain class of egg-
collectors which does not seem to rest content until it has
secured a clutch of eggs of all our most rare British birds,
and it is largely owing to these people that the Osprey is
on the verge of extinction. The Loch an Eilan Ospreys had
a considerable amount of protection afforded them, but
unless a night watcher had been stationed on the main-
land opposite the nesting site, it would have been im-
possible to have protected the eggs at all efficiently.
There was a certain daring individual who swam across
to the island one dark night, when six inches of snow
covered the ground. Clambering with difficulty up the
snow-covered ruins, he secured the two eggs which the
nest contained. But he now discovered that his cap,
in which he had intended to carry back his treasures,
had been left on the bank, and the water, with its temper-
ature near freezing-point, was too cold to allow of a second
journey. He thereupon took an egg in each hand, and
using his legs only to keep him afloat, he was dragged back
by an accomplice by means of a rope he had carried over
on his outward swim. Half-way back he was seized with
cramp but was pulled safely ashore after what, it must
be confessed, was an act requiring no little courage. On
another occasion the same man made a successful raid,
and besides securing the eggs, nearly succeeded in captur-
ing the mother bird, for his hand touched her before she
realised his proximity, and flew screaming from the nest.
It is said that the Osprey will lay a second time provided
she has sat only a day or two on her eggs, but as many of
the clutches taken have contained quite well-grown young,
it is certain that these pairs made no attempt at rearing a
second family. In a recent work by a well-known Scottish
naturalist, the suggestion is advanced that we should follow
the example of our cousins in America and should erect,

THE OSPREY 55

in the shallow waters of our lochs, posts with cart wheels
fastened to their summits. These cart wheels are approxi-
mately the same size as an Osprey's eyrie, and are in-
tended to catch the eye of any wandering Osprey on the
lookout for a nesting site. The idea is a sound one, and
might well be put into practice by some of our landowners
having suitable lochs on their estates ; but so few Ospreys
visit these islands during the spring migration north that
I am very doubtful if even a single pair could be induced
to nest. To begin with, I am informed that there are
now scarcely any Scandinavian Ospreys left, and, indeed,
if a pair did by chance decide to nest in this country, they
would in all probability chose Loch an Eilan or Loch
Arkaig as their quarters. It is only during the last few
years that the Loch Arkaig eyrie has been deserted.
Quite a decade has elapsed since the last young were raised,
but after this a solitary Osprey put in an appearance
on the loch each spring for a period of, I believe, seven
years. It seemed as though this bird was unable to
secure a mate, though it is difficult to imagine that this
could have been so, for the Osprey is quite a well-known
bird along the Mediterranean seaboard during the winter
months, and if the Loch Arkaig Osprey made its winter
quarters there, as is probable, it must have met with
a number of its fellows. But with the Loch an Eilan
Ospreys, too, the same thing happened ; a solitary bird
appeared for a time before the nesting site became entirely
deserted, so that the difficulty of securing a mate must
be considerable, unless, indeed, these individuals were
barren birds past the period of nesting, which is hardly
likely.

The eyrie on Loch Arkaig is built on a stunted oak
tree on a small island, where the birds were comparatively
secure during the nesting season. But, unfortunately,
this protection could not be afforded them after they left

56 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

their West Highland loch on their migration southward,
and they probably fell victims to a gunner in the course
of their winter wanderings, or on their arrival in Southern
England with the coming of another spring.

The Osprey has sometimes been given the name of
Mullet Hawk, and in the case of the pair above mentioned
such a designation would appear singularly appropriate, for
though in Loch Arkaig — a fresh-water loch — there are
many fish, yet the Ospreys did almost all their hunting on
Loch Eil and Loch Linnhe, land-locked fjords of the broad
Atlantic, and the fish with which they winged their way
back to the home loch was, nine times out of ten, a mullet.
When on a fishing expedition the Osprey flies some dis-
tance— from a hundred to two hundred feet — ^above the
water, and on sighting its intended prey immediately
checks its flight, hovering like a great Kestrel as it decides
whether or not the prospective victim is sufficiently near
the surface to justify a plunge. The Osprey does not
dive ; it makes the attack with feet stretched out to their
full, and so rapid is the stoop that the fish seldom has
sufficient time to move down to deeper water before
the bird of prey is upon it and, grasping it firmly with
one talon, gives itself one or two shakes to drive the water
from its feathers, and then soars away to its eyrie.

In olden days, before naturalists were familiar with
its habits, the Osprey was said to swim with one foot and
to catch fish with the other — a quaint statement and
very far from the truth. To enable it to cope success-
fully with such elusive animals as fish in their native
element the claws of the Fish Eagle are somewhat modi-
fied ; while in other hawks the claws are flat beneath and
edged, they are rounded in the Osprey, so as not to tear
the fish and to enable them to be more easily withdrawn.
This precaution is necessary, for at times the Osprey \n\\
grapple with a fish so powerful and heavy that the captor

THE OSPREY 57

is quite unable to raise it from the water, and cases are
on record of the birds being dragged by their prey beneath
the surface. This can happen but rarely, however, for the
Osprey, although itself weighing only four or five pounds,
is able to lift a fish of considerably greater weight than
itself. Such a fish taken by the Osprey and partly eaten
when found weighed no less than six pounds. The method
in which the Osprey carries its prey is interesting : in order
to reduce wind resistance to a minimum the Fishing Eagle
carries the fish with the head pointing in the direction of
its flight, and a bird has been known to turn a fish round
in mid-air so as to bring its head to the front. During
the flight both feet are used for holding the prey, but
immediately before alighting one foot is disengaged and
stretched forward to grasp the perch. The other talon,
holding the fish, also grips the branch, though less securely,
and the fish is held fu-m by the weight of the bird.

The Osprey is quite six weeks later than the Golden
Eagle in commencing the duties of rearing a family, and
the eggs are not often laid before the advent of May.
They are two or three in number, though on one occasion
as many as seven were found in a single eyrie, and are
marked most handsomely with rich red-brown spots and
blotches. They are perhaps the most beautiful of any
eggs laid by a British bird, and, indeed, it may have been
partly owing to this that collectors were induced to offer
such large reward for their acquisition. In size they
naturally vary somewhat, but a normal measurement is,
according to Dresser, 2i§ by If i inches.

The Osprey is a fairly close sitter, and shows a con-
siderable amount of courage where the defence of her eggs
or young is concerned. It is on record that the angry
parent swooped at a boy who was climbing a tree with
the intention of taking the eggs, and fixed her talons in
his cap, carrying it off triumphantly. The boy was so

58 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

unnerved by this episode that, it is good to relate, he
abandoned his attempt on the eyrie and was thankful to
get to the ground in safety. It is curious and interesting
how often the ruins of some ancient castle are chosen
as the site for an eyrie, and a nest has even been found
built upon the remains of a disused shooting lodge.

The period of incubation is said to be four weeks,
though I am inclined to suspect that the eggs are brooded
upon for more than thirty days before the young are
hatched. These are at first clad in a coat of down, darker
considerably than that worn by a baby Golden Eagle,
and, like the latter, are provided with a small knob on the
upper mandible to enable them the more easily to cut
their way through the imprisoning shell when the day
comes for their arrival into the wide world. It is stated
in books of the eighteenth century that the mother Osprey
puts her young through a truly Spartan test soon after
they are born. She compels them to look straight at the
sun, and the one which first weeps during this formid-
able ordeal is ruthlessly killed and thrown from the
eyrie. This noteworthy statement was made, in all
probability, to account for the disappearance of one of
the young birds at an early age. The quaint theory
above mentioned is, as far as I know, without foun-
dation, but all the same this disappearance of one chick
from the nest of a bird of prey is a fact for which
no really satisfactory explanation has yet been given.
The young Ospreys, which are hatched with open
eyes, are fed entirely on fish ; and when they are in
their younger stages the parent bird is careful to give
them only small and tender morsels, torn off with her
bill. Mullet is the favourite article of food, but where
this is not procurable, pike, carp, grilse, and trout are
taken ; and an Osprey is recorded as having captured an
eel two feet long. The Osprey seems to strike well to-

THE OSPREY 59

wards the head of the fish, in other words, " it aims well
forward," and I believe the head of the victim is often torn
clean off by the impact of the stoop.

The young are hatched during the first days of June
in this country and are ready to leave the eyrie by the
end of July. For some little time after this date they
remain in their northern haunts, and are taught the art
of capturing fish for themselves, but leave for the south
before winter has made herself felt amongst the high-
lying glens. I hear from Mr. Meade Waldo that a young
Osprey — ^whether hatched on these islands is doubtful —
spent three weeks in a Yorkshire district in September
1912. It became so tame that it was possible to approach
and even to stand under the tree in which it was perched.
Wood-pigeons and Stock-doves settled fearlessly by it, and,
as far as is known, it continued its southern migration un-
scathed. This bird may possibly have been hatched
from a certain Scottish eyrie where it is said that the
birds still nest in security, and it would be interesting
to learn whether it eluded its enemies and was able to
return in the spring. As far as I am aware, it has never
been accurately decided at what age the Osprey commen-
ces to breed, but it is doubtful whether it starts house-
keeping on its own the season after it is born.

If ever the Fishing Eagle should decide to return to
us, there are several nesting sites in Scotland where its
appearance would undoubtedly be much welcomed. In
Ross and Sutherland the Osprey was a well-known bird
not so many years ago, and I believe there is in these
counties at least one loch known as Loch an lasgair,
which signifies in the Gaelic tongue. Loch of the Fish
Eagle or Osprey. To two men, both of them well-known
ornithologists, must be put down the wholesale destruc-
tion of the Ospreys and their eggs which took place about
the middle of the nineteenth century. They were both

60 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

nature lovers — in a way, but they unfortunately wished to
have tangible tokens of the nesting of the Ospreys. One
directed his attentions mainly against the birds them-
selves, while the other — more humanely perhaps — con-
tented himself with removing the clutches of eggs from
all those birds which he found nesting. It is easy to make
rare, or to exterminate, a bird, but it is most difficult
to induce it to take up once more its nesting quarters on
these islands. Whether the Osprey will ever re-establish
itself successfully remains to be seen. There is no doubt
that interest in our rarer birds has increased consider-
ably during recent years. But I have grave doubts
whether such interest can save the Osprey from sharing
the same fate as the Kite in Scotland. Thirty or forty
years ago the Kite was comparatively common in Avell-
wooded districts, now it is quite extinct north of the
Tweed. The Osprey is not yet extinct, though hovering
on the border-line, and so it behoves all those who are
interested in preserving to us the rarer birds of the coun-
try to do their utmost to offer strict, the most strict,
protection to the Fish Hawk at all times, when or wherever
it may be seen.

It might possibly be of use to replace the eggs of a
Golden Eagle nesting near the former nesting haunt of
the Osprey with the eggs of this latter bird. But the
procuring of such eggs would be a matter of great diffi-
culty, and it is extremely doubtful whether the Eagle's
diet would agree with the young Ospreys, even though
these were successfully hatched out. It is not impossible,
however, that the Osprey may again establish itself with
us. Its range is a wide one. It is met with, in suitable
localities, through the whole of Europe and Africa, and
also inhabits Asia, Australia, New Zealand, and the
islands of the Pacific. In the south-west of France it
appears as a bird of passage, and in April 1914 I saw

THE OSPREY 61

what I took to be a pair of Ospreys hawking above a
river in the neighbourhood of Pan. In America, where
it is gregarious, as many as three hundred pairs have been
seen nesting on one small island, and it is found as far
south as Brazil. It is in America that an amusing story is
related of the Osprey. It is said to utter a particular call
note when carrying back fish to its young. The Bald-
headed Eagle knows this note well, and on hearing it
immediately gives chase, usually depriving the captor
of its prey. After a time, however, the Ospreys of a
certain district, having been robbed of their fish times
without number by the Eagle, hit upon an idea of paying
out their hereditary enemy. Having stealthily eaten
the fish, they flew out over the loch uttering the well-
known cry, but carrying only the skeleton of the fish
with them. The Eagle, on hearing the note so welcome
to him, gave chase immediately, and after doubling and
diving for a time the Osprey, to the Eagle's disgust,
dropped — not a fish for the gratification of the appetite
of the larger bird of prey, but only the backbone, without
flesh!

It would appear that the Osprey was formerly used in
Great Britain for the capturing of salmon. At all events,
by an Act passed in the reign of William and Mary, persons
were prohibited at a certain period of the year from taking
salmon by Hawks. Evidently the Hawk thus employed
was either an Osprey or a Sea Eagle, and it is well known
that the former bird is capable of carrying off a good-
sized grilse, or even a small salmon, for the gratification
of its young.

An abbreviated description of the Osprey may be
of interest. There is, I believe, no seasonal change of
plumage. Tlie adult male has the head white, striped
with dark brown ; ear coverts and a stripe to the hind
neck, blackish brown. Upper parts dark glossy brown.

62 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Under parts white, with brown markings on the breast.
Legs and cere blue. Iris yellow. Total length about
23 inches, wing 19| inches, tail 8| inches.

The wing spread is 5 to 6 feet, but Buffon, writing
towards the close of the eighteenth century, states ex-
plicitly that he has records of an Osprey with a wing
expanse of no less than 7 feet 6 inches. If correct, this
measurement must have been taken from a quite excep-
tional bird.

The female in her plumage resembles the male, but
she is larger.

It may be of interest to conclude this history of
the lolair an Uisge with us, by the narration of a
desperate fight between two birds, near an ancient
nesting site in the Scottish Highlands, The origin of the
battle is not known — probably two male birds were fighting
for a solitary hen — but for two full hours the combatants
struggled fiercely above the surface of the loch. At
length, however, one of the fighters gained an advantage.
He fell to the surface of the water with his rival underneath
him, and succeeded in holding the vanquished bird under
until it was drowned.

THE PEREGRINE FALCON

FALCO FEREGRINUS

Seabhag, Seabhao bhoirionn seilge, Seabhag - GHORM [Gaelic) ;
Faucon pfeLERiN (French); Wander Falke {German); Sapsan
(Russian). Local name, Blue Hawk.

Except towards the western seaboard of Scotland, the
Peregrine Falcon is everywhere holding its own with
difficulty, for wherever there is grouse-preserving, there
the Falcon is an outcast and without peace. Every
keeper's hand is against it, and fortunate indeed is that
Peregrine which succeeds in hatching its eggs and rearing
its young in safety.

The persecution of the Peregrine Falcon is, I venture
to suggest, a misguided and unfortunate policy, and can
never be justified when only a single pair of the birds are
nesting on a moor. In very few districts, indeed, is the
Peregrine sufficiently numerous to justify its destruction,
and by an irony of fate it is in these very districts that its
nesting site is so inaccessible that it is next to impossible
to waylay the parents or their brood. In putting forward
an appeal for the protection of the Peregrine Falcon, I
fully realise that the birds do certainly capture a number
of Grouse, and strike down a victim even for the mere
pleasure of killing. But there can also, I think, be little
doubt that the supposed damage is considerably greater
than that actually worked. Personally, I have never yet
seen a Grouse at a Peregrine's eyrie, though I am ready to
admit that my experience is in this respect an exceptional
one But still I venture to suggest that there are other
birds which form more frequent prey to the Seabhag.

64 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

The Grouse, when hard pressed by the Falcon, and realising
that its strength is near exhausted, throws itself into any
long heather which happens to be near, and crouches
motionless in its place of concealment. A Peregrine will
rarely take its prey on the ground, and after " waiting on "
for a time, in the hopes that its intended victim may rise,
the Falcon moves off in search of fresh objects for pursuit.
The two favourite birds of the Peregrine are, per-
haps, the Golden Plover and the members of the Duck
family. At one eyrie I saw the remains of two Teal
Duck and a Golden Plover, evidently killed only a
very short time before. In the case of the Plover the
head had been severed from the victim's body. At the
same nest later on in the season I found the remains of a
Coot. The nest was quite two hundred feet above the
level of the loch, and as the Coot was in all probability
close to the surface when captured, it says a good deal for
the lifting power of the Peregrine that it was able to rise
with its prey to the top of the rock. It is said that a Coot
when captured is carried by its head, as affording the most
favourable grip. As showing the partiality of the Pere-
grine for the Coot, I may mention that an instance is on
record of six of these birds being killed by the Falcon
in the course of a single day. On one occasion the wing
of a Kestrel was found in the eyrie. Pigeons are also cap-
tured by the Peregrine, and one has been kno\Mi to take
a Starling after no fewer than eight stoops. I have seen
the remains of a Lapwing in the nest, and small birds
too mutilated to permit of identification. In former
times the Peregrine nested on May Island — ^an island
situated at the entrance to the Firth of Forth and ten
miles out from the Bass Rock, and even here a Grouse was
found at the nest. The nearest grouse ground to the
Island of May is to be found on the distant Lammermoors
or Pentlands — or perhaps on the Ochill Hills in Fife — but

THE PEREGRINE FALCON 65

to a bird which can make its way through the air at a
speed of well over a mile a minute, a journey of thirty or
forty miles is little thought of. Black Grouse were taken
by a pair of Peregrines to their nest on the Bass Rock,
though a Black-cock is fully the equal of a Falcon in weight.
As an instance of the wing power of the Peregrine, one of
these birds belonging to Henry IV of France escaped
from its confinement at Fontaincbleau, and was found
twenty-four hours later in Malta, 1350 miles away. As
it is unlikely that the Falcon was noted immediately on
its arrival, its speed must have been prodigious, even
allowing for winds in its favour, and probably averaged
over seventy miles an hour.

The Peregrine Falcon is an early nester among birds
of prey in this country — second only to the Golden
Eagle — and the Falcon may be brooding by April 10th.
The nesting site usually chosen is a rocky hill face, such
a hill face with a loch lying beneath being specially
favoured, and the nest is on a ledge or cavity of rock.
MacGillivray stated in his classical work of the nineteenth
century that the nest was a bulky structure, a statement
which is difficult of explanation coming from so great
an authority, for as far as my experience goes, the Pere-
grine makes no nest at all, but merely scrapes out a shallow
hollow on the ledge and here deposits its eggs. As the
same nest is sometimes used year after year, the hollow in
time becomes lined with the bones of many bird victims,
but this is the only " nest " that one finds. Sometimes
the Peregrine may take possession of a Raven's nest for
the rearing of the brood, but not without a battle, for the
Raven is perhaps the one bird which does not hesitate
to show fight where the Falcon is concerned. The eggs
usually number three or four, but on one occasion I found
five in an cyric. They are extremely handsome, rich red
blotches being distributed lavishly over a ground colour
of brown. The duties of incubation are undertaken by

G6 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the hen bird, who sometimes sits very closely until perhaps
she has been rendered wild and unapproachable by per-
secution. Indeed, I knew of a case in which a stalker
succeeded in catching the Falcon as she brooded her eggs.
When disturbed she flies out from her nesting ledge in a
state of intense excitement and anxiety, moving restlessly
backwards and forwards across her nesting site, and uttering
her powerful screeching alarm call as she does so. This'
call soon brings her mate to her side, though he does not
usually venture so near the danger zone as does his better
half. His cries are uttered more rapidly than those of
the Falcon, and are in a higher key. Sometimes on such
occasions the form of another male Peregrine is noted,
circling at a great height in the sky, and this " hanger on "
is probably ready to fill the place of the husband should
any mischance happen to him.

For many years now a pair of Peregrines have un-
successfully attempted to rear their young on a wild rock
standing on the summit of a hill two thousand feet in
height. The nesting site is an ideal one, but unluckily
it is in the heart of the country of the Red Grouse, and
thus the Peregrine is looked upon with scant favour.
Mountaineers also ascend the hill and frequently j^revent
the Falcon from returning to her nest for long periods.
But still, despite repeated misfortunes, the birds return
to their nesting site with every spring, though I doubt
whether they have succeeded in rearing a single family
during the last decade.

At the present day, when every living thing at all
inimical to the Red Grouse is ruthlessly put out of the
way, the Balance of Nature must needs be destroyed, and
from that fact alone evils must of necessity come. Moors
become over-stocked, a trying winter and spring is ex-
perienced, and grouse disease makes its appearance. At
times such as these the presence of a pair — even of several
pairs — of Peregrines on a moor is of undoubted benefit.

TllK I'l.Kl.c.KlM', I' A Lion's IIO.MK.

THE PEREGRINE FALCON 67

A Grouse in the early stages of disease offers a more easy
mark than such a bird in the full vigour of health, and as
a result will, in all probability, be captured. But where
no birds of prey are present, where the Eagle and the Pere-
grine Falcon are considered as vermin and are exterminated
so far as is possible, the ravages of the disease continue un-
checked, and the moor is decimated in a short space of time.

In the High North, where game-preserving is not, and
where are wild tracts of thinly-populated country, the
Peregrine Falcon nests on the ground at times. A re-
markable and well-authenticated instance of the affection
a Peregrine retains for its nesting site comes from Lap-
land, where the same pair of birds, or their descendants,
reared their young on the same hillside for a period of
well over a hundred years ; and there are certainly, even
in this country, nesting stations which have been occupied
for the last fifty years without a break.

The young Peregrines are hatched out about May 15th.
At the time of their birth they resemble the young of the
Golden Eagle, except for their smaller size, for they are
entirely clad in a coat of white down. Compared to the
young eagles, their rate of growth is rapid, and before
the end of June most of the broods have left the eyrie.
For some little time they haunt their nesting site, and
even when they are strong on the wing their parents still
manifest great solicitude on their behalf, calling restlessly
when danger approaches.

The flight of the Peregrine is one of the most splendid
things in all the bird world. It might be compared with
that of the Eagle as a battleship with the fleetest torpedo
destroyer. The Eagle has the majesty which the Pere-
grine can never hope to possess — for the Falcon has not
the weight of the King of Birds — but the Peregrine is
the fleeter of the two, and its prey falls to it with greater
ease. In the gale the Eagle uses his weight with advantage
to enable him to forge ahead through the storm ; the Pere-

68 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

grine relies rather on the powerful thrusts of his clean-
cut wings. WTien pursuing his prey in grim earnest, a
Peregrine in good training has been reckoned to fly at the
rate of no less than 150 miles an hour, a speed which the
Eagle could not attain to unless she was aided by a follow-
ing wind of great strength. A Golden Plover is also a
bird with considerable powers of flight, and as it is able
to swerve and twist in the most perplexing manner, it
never yields up its life to the Peregrine until after a stern
bid for freedom. On one occasion a Peregrine chased a
Golden Plover for ten minutes at top speed. At the
end of that period the unlucky Plover was exhausted by
its efforts and was taken in mid-air. The Plover tribe
do not, I think, realise that their best hope of safety lies
in their precipitating themselves into the heather like the
Grouse, for they continue to rely on their wing power
to enable them to escape until they are exhausted. The
most striking feature of the Peregrine's flight is its " stoop-
ing " powers. Such " stoops " or rushes earthward are
not made use of only when the object is to capture prey :
they are carried out for the mere joy of flight, and even
when their nesting site is visited and their eggs or young
are in danger, both Peregrines may be seen periodically to
mount up into the sky and then shoot do"\vn with tightly-
closed wings at terrific speed. \^Tien the male and female
Peregrines are thus seen together, the superiority in the
size of the Falcon is well marked. The weight of the male
is about two pounds, while that of the female reaches
three — a striking difference. . . . Considering the com-
parative scarcity of the species in this country, the ease and
rapidity with which a survivor finds a new mate, when the
latter had been shot, is quite noteworthy. It has been
suggested that the survivor makes its way across the North
Sea and produces a mate from the Continent ; and, indeed,
for a bird with such fine powers of flight this performance
would be by no means impossible.

THE PEREGRINE FALCON 69

On the west coast of Scotland and, to a lesser extent,
on the eastern seaboard, the Peregrine makes its home
on the great sea cliffs. Here it preys largely on the in-
offensive Pufifln, striking down its victims by a stroke
from its hind claw and sometimes knocking the head
clean off the body.

It is instructive to visit the home of the Peregrine
during a season of strong winds and to compare his
flight under these weather conditions with that of the
Eagle. The Eagle is able to soar up into the breeze with
never a movement of his wings till he has disappeared
from view. The Peregrine mounts also into the arms of the
wind, but in its case repeated movements of its powerful
wings are necessary to enable it to reach a great altitude.

After the nesting season the Peregrine wanders far.
It is met with along our eastern coast-line, and frequents
Holy Island, being attracted by the numbers of duck
which have their winter quarters hereabouts. During
September 1913 a Peregrine took up its quarters on
the Bass Rock, and on more than one occasion I saw it
perched on a rock near the summit. From its confiding
behaviour I imagine that it had come from the far north,
where the Falcon is not subjected to persecution as in these
islands.

The range of the Peregrine Falcon is a world-wide one,
for it is found through the vast area stretching from
Greenland to South Africa. Through the whole of Asia
it is met with also, down to Java and Sumatra ; and in
the Nearctic region, from Hudson Bay down to the Argen-
tine. Curiously enough, it is absent from Iceland, where
perhaps its place is taken by the Iceland Falcon. In
India, as in this country, the Peregrine is used for hawk-
ing, and among the Hindus its name is Bhyri. To the
Persians it is known as Basi.

During their migration many Peregrines are captured
for falconry. A light-coloured pigeon is tied to the

70 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

ground beneath a small bow net, so arranged as to be
drawn over quickly by a long string attached to it.
This string stretches to a turf shelter, where the falconer
is concealed.

Near the "shelter " a Butcher Bird is tied, and two pieces
of turf are set up so as to serve him as a retreat. Should
a Peregrine appear, even at a great distance, the Butcher
Bird utters piercing cries, and the Peregrine, attracted
to the spot by his shrieks, marks the pigeon, stoops down,
and, if all goes well, is secured in the net. From very
early times the sport of falconry has been practised
in this country. It was reckoned that a Falcon (the hen
Peregrine) was a match for a Heron, or for a Wild Goose,
while the Tiercel or male was more suited for Partridges
and smaller game. As showing the high prices given
for the Peregrine, it is chronicled that in the reign of
James II no less than £1000 was given for a pair of these
birds. In terms of falconry young Peregrines are known
as Red Hawks, adult birds as Haggards. Eyess is another
term for the Peregrine.

Description. — In the male the crown, nape, hind neck,
and side of head to below the eye are black. Back, scapu-
lars, wing coverts, and secondaries dark slate blue with very
dark slate bars traversing them. Lower part of the back
considerably lighter in colour, becoming slate blue on the
rump and upper tail coverts, which have also darker cross-
bars. Primaries almost black, on terminal part edged
with white. Tail blackish, with broad bars of slate blue
at the base. Extreme tip of tail brownish white. Under
parts white, with a tinge of warm rufous. Throat and
upper breast with a few long markings. Rest of under
parts boldly barred with black. Cere and legs yellow.
Iris ])rown. Bill dark bluish horn colour, at base of a
light blue. Total length about 10 inches. Wing 12 inches.
The female is considerably larger than the male, but in
her plumage resembles him.

THE KESTREL

FALCO TINNUNCULUS

Seabhag fhiorinn [Oaelic), also Clamhan ruadh ; Faucon cresserelle
(French) ; Thurm Falke (German).

The Kestrel is the falcon most commonly met with in the
moorland districts of the Highlands, and would appear
to be holding its own despite the fact that large numbers
are shot every year on the Scottish grouse moors.

Ornithologists, indeed all nature lovers, have always
been inclined to look upon the destruction of the Kestrel
as wanton and unjust. Keepers, on the other hand, have
been bitter against it in that it destroyed numbers of
the young of game birds, such as Grouse or Partridges.
There is a good deal to be said for either side of the ques-
tion, but of this there is no doubt ; the Kestrel — or Wind-
hover, as it is sometimes called — has a very largely-
developed useful side to its character, for its favourite prey
consists of mice, which do so much harm to agriculture
in these islands. It has been estimated that a single
Kestrel, remaining in a district for 210 days, would be the
means of destroying no less than 10,395 mice. Indeed, it
appears to delay its nesting season according as to whether
field mice and insects are plentiful or the reverse. In
the Scottish glens the nesting site of the Kestrel is a rocky
gorge, through which there often flows a hill burn. That
the Kestrel does not strike terror into the hearts of the
smaller birds is evident from the fact that several pairs
of Ring Ousels are almost invariably to be found nesting
near the Red Hawk, with, as like as not, a pair of Dippers,

72 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

several pairs of Wrens, and maybe a Goosander or Red-
breasted Merganser. In one such gorge that I know, a
Merhn and a Kestrel nested within a few yards of each other.
In the usual sense of the word, the Kestrel makes no
nest. She scrapes a small depression on . some rocky
ledge, and in this deposits her eggs. She is — ^after the
manner of all falcons — constantly throwing up castings,
consisting of the undigested portions and fur of the mice
which enter so largely into her diet, and in time these cast-
ings form a soft bed of fur on which the eggs repose. The
eggs of the Kestrel number from three to five, the latter
number being the more usual of the two. In colour, if
not in shape, they closely resemble those of the Red
Grouse. Over a ground colour of pale reddish white are
laid many confused markings of dull brownish red. The
eggs lack the pyriform shape common to those of the
family of Waders, and at times are almost circular. They
are laid towards the end of May, but as early as the open-
ing days of that month the Kestrels maj^ be seen circling
and toying with each other above the ground they have
chosen as a nesting site. The hen bird is rarely a close
sitter, flying out from her nest and circling round the
intruder with loud screams. Sometimes, however, she
can be approached unawares and even caught as she
broods her eggs. It is unusual for more than one pair of
Kestrels to tenant the same gorge, but I once knew of two
nesting close together, in a place where it was evident a
Golden Eagle came frequently to roost. I have seen a
Kestrel flying restlessly round her nesting site, pursued
with consideral:)le heat by a Ring Ouzel, which was
evidently engaged in rearing a })rood in the same locality.
The young Kestrels when first hatched are covered
with grey white doAvn and grow rapidly. Their food
consists mainly of mice — Mus sylvaticus, Mus domesticus,
Arvicola agresiis, and shrews, especially Sorex araneus.

THE KESTREL 73

On one occasion I had a family of young Kestrels under
observation for several weeks. On June 18th the young
brood were five in number. They were still down-clad,
and only the rudiments of a few of their feathers were
appearing. On June 29th, when next I visited them, they
had matured in quite a noteworthy manner. This time
the nest contained only three birds — the remaining two
may possibly have succumbed through lack of food — and
they were almost ready for flight. It was impossible
to obtain satisfactory photographs of them on their nest-
ing ledge, and so, not without difficulty, I succeeded in
carrying them up to the top of the rock. The nesting
ledge was near the summit of the cliff, and by leaning
out on an overhanging birch tree it was possible just to
touch the young. As they struck out fiercely with their
talons, it was not easy to lift them from the nest, but I
succeeded in accomplishing this by enveloping them in the
focussing cloth of my camera. The chicks shrieked loudly
and repeatedly during this process, and the parent bird,
perched in a neighbouring birch, joined in their cries. I
placed the trio on a ledge of rock, and they remained
obligingly quiet during the time that I secured a number
of photographs of them. One of the young birds — a hen,
I think — showed less spirit than the other two, and re-
mained during most of the time with her head hidden
beneath the wing of one of her companions, who glared
fiercely at the hated camera and the still more hated
operator ! At no time did I see the remains of any prey
in the nest.

It is surprising what uncertainty exists amongst
the Highlanders as to the identity of the Kestrel.
I have heard it referred to by intelligent stalkers as the
Peregrine Falcon, and on one occasion I was asked to
call and see what was supposed to be a young Golden
Eagle — in reality a youthful and depressed Kestrel

74 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

not yet able to lly ! . . . To many who watch the
Kestrel as he hovers above a hillside, stooping to earth
every few minutes and rising, apparently with empty
talons., it is surmised that such " stoops " have been un-
successful. In reality the Kestrel has been preying on
beetles, and though the rush to earth may have been re-
warded by the capture of one of these insects, there is no
visible sign, for the Windhover has devoured his small
prey as quickly as caught. When hunting, the Kestrel
is rarely more than fifty feet above the moor. If it has
suspicions that a suitable prey is somewhere on the ground
near it drops a little, then hovers a little, drops again a few
yards, scanning the ground intently, then either dashes
down at top speed — its suspicions confirmed — or else rises
in disgust and flies off to search another part of the hill.

When hovering, a Kestrel faces the wind, spreads its tail
wide, and with the extremities of its wings rapidly vibrat-
ing, remains motionless, keenly surveying the ground
beneath. On sighting its prey it closes its wings and tail,
dropping like a stone till just above the surface of the
ground.

The Kestrel is said to feed on lizards, and is not above
bearing off the young of Grouse, Partridges, and Pheasants,
but still cannot be said to be a murderer and a tyrant
like the Sparrow Hawk. Mice are sometimes swallowed
entire. Several instances of a Kestrel " catching a
Tartar " are recorded. Once a bird, after its stoop to earth,
was seen to rise hurriedly into the air and to drop down
lifeless. Immediately a weasel ran off apparently un-
injured, and on being examined the Kestrel was found
to have been bitten in the neck to the death by the four-
footed marauder. ... A Kestrel is rarely seen on the
ground, and still more rarely is seen walking, for it is
extremely necessary to it that its claws should be sharp
in order to grip and hold its prey.

THE KESTREL 75

At times the Windhover pursues large game, and a
stalker of my acquaintance told me that he once noted
it eating a well-grown young Partridge. It has also been
known to devour a Grey Crow, though it would seem
hardly likely that it had captured it. A Kestrel has
been knoAvn, too, to hawk cockchafers in the dusk of an
evening.

After the young Kestrels have left the nest, they are
led by the parent birds across the moors, and should
the family be disturbed, the parents show great anxiety
for the welfare of their young, though these may be strong
on the wing and able to take care of themselves. Indeed
it is often necessary that the young should be well matured
at the time they leave the nest, for the nesting rock not
unfrequently overlooks a deep pool of some hill burn.
Considering that it is a member of the dreaded and hated
hawk family, the Kestrel seems to excite curiously little
hostility from other birds, certainly not as much, I should
say, as the Grey Crow ; but I once saw a Windhover have
an extremely bad time of it from a colony of Sea Swallows.

To a certain extent only is the Kestrel a resident in
Scotland, and in the north of that country it is merely a
summer visitor. On the approach of winter, many of those
birds which have nested with us cross the Mediterranean,
on the farther side of which their food is said to consist
mainly of locusts.

The Kestrel cannot be said to be a bird with an exten-
sive northern distribution. It is absent from the Faroes,
and from Iceland, but is found in Norway, though it is
doubtful whether it reaches the North Cape.

It is met with in Siberia, but not in the most northerly
districts of that country. Farther afield it is found in
China, Persia, India. In the mountains of the Caucasus
it is common and nests in Palestine. Great numbers
pass the winter months in Africa.

76 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Description. — The male Kestrel has the head, rump, and
tail slate grey, the tail being tipped with white and
having a black bar ; mantle and wing coverts red, spotted
with black ; throat white, the rest of the mider parts
light broAvn, lined with black on the chest and spotted
with black on the flanks ; lower abdomen and under
tail coverts white ; cere, space round eye, and legs,
yellow. The female has the crown and neck red. Tail
red, closely barred with black. The under parts resemble
those of the male, but are paler.

The young resemble the female. Very old hen Kestrels
tend to resemble the males.

THE RAVEN OR CORBY CROW

CORVUS COR AX

FiTHEACH, BiADHTACH {Gaelic).

" Tha flos fithich aige " = " He has raven's knowledge."

" Thug na fithich aran ann " = " The ravens brought food."

CoRBEAu {French) ; Rabe, Kohlkabe {Qerman).

Of all the birds of the mountain lands, the Raven is the
very first to commence her nesting operations. The New
Year has not long arrived when she sets about repairing
her nest, and before February is over she is covering her
eggs on some wild crag, seemingly indifferent to the
storms of rain and snow which sweep the hills from time
to time. Indeed it may be said that the Raven not in-
frequently chooses the coldest period of the year for her
nesting, a fact, I think, quite remarkable, since there is
no apparent reason why the young Ravens should be
strong on the wing at a time when the majority of other
moorland nesting birds are only commencing to lay.
With the Eagle it is different — her young must remain a
full nine weeks in the eyrie before they are able to fly, and
after that time must be initiated into the secrets of captur-
ing their own prey before the shortening days herald the
approach of another winter ; but surely there is no need
that the Ravens should set out on their first flight before
the closing days of April ? For even admitting the fact
that they are not above making a meal off any young
bird they should happen to come across, young birds of
any description are the exception rather than the rule
till the closing days of May.

The Raven has decreased almost everywhere in these
islands during the last fifty years. To take an instance,

78 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

in the county of Aberdeen the species is quite extinct as
a nesting bird at the present day, although towards the
western boundary of the county there is an extensive
area of some of the wildest country in Scotland. The
cause for the disappearance of the Raven from this area
is not easy to account for, but to the removal of the sheep
from the two largest deer forests may, I think, be largely
attributed the fact. But many records are to hand which
show that the Raven has been ruthlessly destroyed almost
everywhere. For instance, in 1780, at Arran, 10s. 6d.
was given for the destruction of each Raven's nest, while
in the case of the Kite only 2s. 6d. was offered. In three
years, from 1837 to 1840, 475 Ravens were killed in Glen
Garry. Previous to 1867 the Raven was very numerous
in Caithness and in Sutherland, and the Hoodie rare. Now
the reverse is the case. From 1870 to 1880, C62 Ravens
were killed in Sutherland alone, and for these birds a
premium of 2s. 6d. per head was allowed, a total of
£82, 16s. in all.

It is only on the west and north-west coasts of Scotland
that the Raven is holding its own, and it is even said that
in some districts of Skye it has driven out the Golden
Eagle from its strongholds. In England the Raven is
nowhere numerous. A few pairs nest annually in Devon
and Cornwall, and in the Border district, but in most
places it is decreasing gradually year by year. In former
times the Raven nested on Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh, but
has long since been banished from the Scottish capital.
For many years, too, a pair bred in the Mausoleum at
Castle Howard, Yorkshire. It is curious that a certain
rocky gorge, well kno>Mi to the writer, should have been
the unfortunately-chosen nesting site of a pair of Ravens
and Golden Eagles in succession. The Corbies were
banished from the district, and now for years on end the
Eagles have attempted, bravely though misguidedly,

THE RAVEN 79

to rear their young in spite of great persecution from
the keepers of the district.

During the spring of 1914 I had the opportunity of
studying more than one pair of Ravens in a certain hill
district, during which time I succeeded in obtaining the
photographs which illustrate this chapter. Altogether
three eyries were visited. In each case the nest was
placed on a rock in a most exposed position, at altitudes
of between one and two thousand feet above sea-level,
and was inaccessible except by the aid of a rope, although
it was possible to look into it from above. In each case,
too, the nesting site had been used every year by the
same pair of Ravens or their descendants, and it was
interesting to see that, like the Golden Eagle, the owners
of the rock had two nests which, presumably, they used
during alternate seasons. In the nesting site fu'st visited
by the writer and a companion the Ravens showed signs
of great uneasiness while we were yet some distance from
the rock, so it was with surprise that we found the nest
empty, though freshly lined with wool and grass. Quite
a month previously the nest had been in the same condi-
tion, so the inference drawn was that the eggs had been
removed by some collector. From the interest shown by
the Ravens in their nesting site, it seemed possible that the
hen bird contemplated a second clutch of eggs, although
the season, for the Raven, was already far advanced.

The Corbies were not the only occupants of the rock :
Ring Ouzels winged their way past in the bright sunlight,
Wheatears flitted uneasily from boulder to boulder, and a
Stock Dove moved backwards and forwards across the
face of the rock, anxious to return to her eggs concealed
in a fissure near the summit of the cliff.

Some fifteen miles to the westward of the nesting site
which I have described above is a rocky glen where a second
pair of Ravens have their home. On April 18th I visited

80 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the nest, and found it contained four fully-fledged young
birds. The nest was placed on a ledge of rock half-way
down a cliff perhaps thirty feet in height and faced almost
south-west, but, owing to a projecting ledge, the sun did
not shine full into the eyrie till comparatively late in the
afternoon. As I hoped to secure some photographs under
as favourable conditions as possible I waited, hidden among
some rocks, in the vicinity of the nest in the hopes that the
parent birds would return to their family ; but although
they circled overhead uttering short, barking cries, they
did not once venture near their young. About four in
the afternoon the nest and its occupants were in full sun-
light, and the young birds were commencing to feel the
heat, opening their bills wide and exposing very red throats
as they panted and gasped for breath. A week later —
April 25th — accompanied by a kindred ornithologist, I
again visited the nest. The day was one of the finest of a
memorable month of warmth and sunshine, and the hills
were looking at their best as we made our way to the
home of the Raven-people.

The parent birds circled out to meet us while we were
still some way off, and after a careful stalk through the
heather we looked across to the nest without the Raven
family being aware of our presence. Some of the brood
were standing, others were almost invisible at the bottom
of the nest, but when we showed ourselves the more
venturesome spirits hurriedly crouched once more. This
time it was obvious that the young were in a condition
to leave the nest if only a means could be found to per-
suade them to do so. A succession of stones and lumps
of peat thrown in the direction of the eyrie caused the
family a good deal of uneasiness, but no more, and so, as
a last resource, a shepherd's plaid, tied to a rope, was
thrown over the rock and moved up and down in front of
the nest. This was more than the youngsters could stand,

A Raven's nest.

VouNc; Ra\l\-

THE RAVEN 81

and one of the brood flew strongly out across the gorge,
settling on the grass on the farther side of the little glen.
He was almost immediately followed by a second Raven
whose powers of flight were not so fully developed, and
who came to ground in some rocks near, while a third
member of the family, after holding on grimly by one
claw to the nesting ledge for a while, was obliged to let
go his hold, and fell to the ground beneath. But the
fourth youngster showed no inclination to fly — ^he had
never been much in evidence, and, indeed, during the
first visit had been quite overlooked for a while — and
pressed himself back against the rock as far out of sight
as possible. The parent Ravens, on seeing the departure
of their family in so unceremonious a fashion, circled
nearer, barking repeatedly, and this barking was in-
creased when I descended and attempted to photograph
the representative who had fallen from the nest. This
young Raven was, I think, the largest and most vigorous
of the brood, and as I approached set up the most dis-
cordant and terrified croaking cries imaginable, cries
which reminded me forcibly of the callings of the Solan
Geese on that well-known nesting site of theirs, the Bass
Rock. My companion, in the meantime, had secured a
second Raven, and after extreme patience and much
difficulty we succeeded in obtaining a series of photographs
of them standing together on a rock.

During this time what I imagine must have been the
mother Raven had alighted on the farther side of the
glen beside the young bird who had flown first and most
successfully, and seemed to be attempting to persuade
the small person to fly. It was then we noticed that
the adult birds were accompanied by a third Raven,
which I believe had only recently escaped from captivity
— having been taken from the same nest some seasons
before — and had attached itself to the family, probably

82 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

for the sake of companionship. This bird took only
a mild interest in the fate of the nestlings, contenting
itself with perching on the top of a rock or flying about
quietly at a considerable distance from the nest.

The sun was now shining with great heat on the slopes
of the glen, drawing out the scent of the heather and
other hill plants, so that the air was filled with that aroma
so pleasing to every lover of the moorlands. The young
Ravens were considerably distressed by the heat, gasping
and panting for breath, so in order not to cause more
anxiety than necessary to the parent birds, we crossed
the glen and lay down to watch the course of events. The
afternoon was drawing on. Scarce a breath of wind
stirred, though light breezes at times crossed from the
north, relieving for a moment the sun's heat. On the far
hills a heather fire was burning. Flying swiftly up the
glen came a pair of Curlews, looking, beside the Ravens,
strangely diminutive birds, and a little later came a third
Curlew. He was evidently a male bird, for, as he flew,
he rose and dipped with that characteristic flight of the
nesting season, uttering that singularly charming call
note of his which adds so great a fascination to the moor-
lands in spring.

The Ravens were now circling closer to their crag.
Time after time one of the birds lighted on a particular
ledge of rock, but seemed unwilling to settle on the ground
near its young — possibly previous unpleasant experiences
of traps made it disinclined to alight at the foot of the
rock. Meantime I could see through the glass that one
of the young Ravens was dozing comfortably on a stone,
having evidently quite forgotten its trying experiences
at the hands of the photographer a short while before.
The behaviour of the solitary occupant of the nest was
interesting. Before, when his three brothers and sisters
shared his home with him, I have shrewd suspicions that

THE RAVEN 83

he had a comparatively poor time of it — he was scarcely
visible in the nest, being sent to the wall by his more
vigorous companions, and from his small size I suspect
that his share of the food provided was small. Thus,
when he discovered himself in complete and undisputed
possession of the home, his satisfaction was evident.
Through the glass I could see him walking about the
nest with a confident air which I am sure he had assumed
only during the last few hours. Then, whether the pangs
of hunger had commenced to assert themselves, or merely
to pass the time, the youngster began to pick up various
heather stalks lining the nest, moving about restlessly
the while.

After a time he became wearied and settled down at
the bottom of the nest, where he was almost invisible from
my point of view. A shepherd and his dog crossing the
hill scared the parent Ravens away once more and so we
left our position and moved down to the lower grounds.

A word as to the notes of the Raven. Compared to
his smaller relative, the Grey Crow, his alarm note is quiet
and dignified ; he never shrieks harshly like the Hoodie.
The usual note of the Raven when his nesting site is ap-
proached is a short gruff note uttered in a very low key
and reminding one forcibly of the barking of a dog. As
well as this cry the Raven makes use, though less fre-
quently, of a liquid call which resembles the drawing of
a cork from a bottle.

A third eyrie which I visited about the time of which
I write was situated close on 1800 feet above sea-level in a
north-facing rock. Two nests were near each other, one
evidently the spare nest and in disuse, the other newly
lined with wool. Of the birds there was no sign, and I
think there can be little doubt but that the eggs had been
stolen. It was wild weather when I visited the eyrie ;
a strong wind from the west was lashing into foam the

84 HTLL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

waters of the loch in the valley below, but at the Corbie's
crag the air was quiet, though the rush of wind at the top
of the gorge and the skurrying clouds showed the strength
of the air current. Soon a heavy squall of rain and sleet
swept across, and immediately afterwards I saw two
Ravens come over flying at great speed down wind. They
showed a complete lack of interest in the nesting site,
however, and crossing to the far side of the glen, turned
and flew slowly up against the gale, moving just above
the surface of the hill in order to shelter themselves as
far as possible from the storm. From their behaviour I
had little doubt that their eggs had been stolen, for the
nesting site is known to many, and the difficulties in afford-
ing adequate protection to the birds during the nesting
season are great. The nest of the Raven seems to be
always built of heather sticks as a foundation ; sticks
usually taken from a piece of moor which has been burnt
only superficially, perhaps, owing to the strength of the
wind or some other cause. The eggs repose on a lining of
dried grass and wool, and the latter must be of consider-
able value in retaining the heat during the absence of the
mother bird on the wild days of early spring, Tlie eggs,
resembling those of the Grey Crow, but larger in size, are
from four to six in number, but as many as eight have
been found. They vary a good deal in colour ; some are
pale blue with a greenish tinge and faint blackish under-
lying shell markings and dark surface spots scattered
over the shell ; others are olive green, closely marked
with blackish brown blotches. It is said that the
eggs of the Raven taken in Spain are rather more
brightly coloured than those from Northern Europe.
In size they vary from 1|^ by l^g to If^ by 1}^
inches.

The Raven frequently nests in trees on the Continent,
though on the British Isles it is — nowadays, at all events —

THE RAVEN 85

rare to find one in such a position. In Palestine the
nest is found on mosques and ruined towers. The young
Ravens are hatched out sometimes as early as the middle
of March, and must be extremely hardy, since no instance
of their deaths from exposure has been recorded so far
as I am aware. The chicks are at first of a blackish
colour, scantily covered with soft loose greyish black
down. As they approach maturity, however, there is
little difference, except in size, between young and old,
but the young are perhaps less glossed. In the more
southern of its nesting haunts the Raven takes her young
out into the world before the close of April ; farther north —
in the Hebrides, for example — it is the middle of May before
they are fully fledged. But though the young leave the
nest so early the family, old and young, keep together
throughout the summer, the mother bird showing a great
amount of affection for her brood. The male bird, too,
when his mate is sitting, dashes indiscriminately, after
the approved manner of the Green Plover, at any bird
which approaches the nesting site, and when the intruder
has been put to precipitate flight, shoots back to the nest,
croaking with pleasure. It is said also that, like the Lap-
wing, the male Raven turns completely on his back as
he utters his cries.

Toward the end of July I once had an excellent
sight of a brood of seven Ravens near the summit of
Ben Nevis, and at a height of well above 4000 feet.
The day was a cloudless one., and only the faintest of
airs played about those great precipices of Scotland's
highest hill. The Ravens when disturbed gave me an
exhibition of soaring powers which I have rarely seen
equalled except by the Golden Eagle, sailing and dipping
in the sunlight with scarcely a motion of their wings
before coming to rest, one by one, on a spur about half
a mile from me, where they commenced to move actively

86 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

about on the stony ground, evidently discovering a food
store even on this barren ridge.

The Raven, hke the Grey Crow, has a hatred of the
Golden Eagle which is quite noteworthy, since the King
of the Hills rarely, if ever, attacks a member of the Crow
family. To the attentions of a single Raven the Eagle
takes but little heed, but the attacks of a number of these
birds are a serious menace, and, as I mentioned earlier in
this chapter, the Golden Eagles in a certain district in
Skye have, it is said, been quite driven away by the
Corbies. In the forest of Gaick no fewer than twenty-
three Ravens were on one occasion seen mobbing an
Eagle.

The Raven, though now extremely rare on the eastern
and central districts of Scotland, is not uncommon to the
west, in the land of the great sheep farms. This may, I
think, be partly attributed to its fondness for sheep.
A strong or healthy member of the flock a Raven will
never venture to attack, but should an unfortunate sheep
fall sickly, the bird of ill -omen will watch for days till the
animal dies, dragging out the eyes and tongue of the
victim even before the last breath has left its body. The
bird has been given the name of Tempest-loving Raven,
and rightly so, for no gale is too fierce, no storm too wild
to restrain it from flying over the moors on the look-out
for carrion. At such times it wings its way only a few
feet above the ground, its powerful wings propelling it
forward against the heaviest wind.

It is not known whether in its hunt for food the Raven
is guided by scent or by its keen vision. Although its
favourite food is carrion, it is omnivorous. Young or
sickly birds are not infrequently carried off, and hares
and rabbits are attacked during severe snowstorms,
when they are in an enfeebled condition. Shepherds
state that the Raven will at times murder young lambs,

THE RAVEN 87

and it is not above killing poultry and sucking eggs ; but
except along the western coast it is now so scarce that
the damage done by it can be merely infinitesimal. A
dead whale thrown upon the shore becomes the point of
attraction to all the Ravens for many miles round, and
they feed greedily on the carcase. Sometimes, when its
more tasty food fails it, the Raven is reduced to feeding
on grubs, insects, and worms, but considering that the
young are fed largely on carrion, those I have examined
have been in a singularly clean condition.

When eating a dead sheep, perhaps with various
species of Sea Gulls sharing in the feast, the Raven
retires for a short distance on the arrival of an Eagle,
waiting till the King of Birds has eaten his fill before
venturing back. When the carcase is that of a larger
animal, the Corbies do not fly ofi although an Eagle, or
even a dog, should appear on the scene. A large herd
of grampuses having been driven ashore by the inhabit-
ants of Pabbay, in the Sound of Harris, an amazing
number of Ravens assembled from all quarters and con-
tinued for several weeks to subsist upon the carcases. When
this food supply was exhausted, the inliabitants of the
district became alarmed lest the birds should commence
to feed on their barley. Efforts to drive them away were
ineffectual, and matters had begun to look serious when a
villager thought of what was really a very ingenious scheme
for the removal of the unwelcome visitors. He succeeded
in catching some of the Ravens alive, plucked out all their
feathers with the exception of those of the wings and
tail, and liberated these fearsome-looking scarecrows
among their companions. The Ravens, terrified by their
mutilated brothers, took their departure in a body, nor
did they return again to the district.

A Highlander once remarked to MacGillivray, that
famous naturalist of the early nineteenth century, " What

88 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

a brave soldier the Raven is ! He fights the Eagle, who
is four times his size." In fact, in some districts of the
west coast of Scotland shepherds and farmers used to
welcome the Corbie, enemy to their flocks as he was,
for it was he who drove off the hated Sea Eagle, which
worked so much damage among their lambs.

The Raven has from olden times been looked upon
askance, as a bird of ill-omen. In the Hebrides, however,
it is not viewed as boding death to the household which it
may chance to visit. Still, it is, or was, considered un-
fortunate for a marriage party to sight a Corbie unless
it should be killed, when the ill-luck is removed and the
omen is even a good one.

The propensity of the Corbie for carrying off the most
curious odds and ends is well known. The late Duke of
Argyll was watching a Raven circling overhead when he
saw it drop something from its bill. The object dis-
carded proved to be a cone from the silver fir — Abies
pectinata — on which was growing a parasitic plant known
as Phclonites strobilina. This plant has been rarely
found ; as a matter of fact, the British Museum was with-
out a specimen, so to it the cone with its parasite was
presented.

What, I think, is an intensely interesting fact in the
history of the Raven is the use to which it was put by
the ancient Scandinavian mariners. When pursuing a
voyage of discovery, and uncertain as to their course and
out of sight of land, though imagining it to be near, a
Raven was let loose from the ship. If he left the vessel,
his line of flight was followed by the boat, and it was rare
indeed for the " dark bird " to play the mariners false,
for by following the direction of the pilot they were en-
abled to reach land and find a harbour. Sometimes,
however, the Raven, after a preliminary flight, returned
to the ship, and when this was the case, it was judged

THE RAVEN 89

that land was far off. Legend, indeed, has it that Iceland
owes its discovery to the Raven.

The Raven was the sacred standard of the great Odin,
and was the inseparable companion of the devastating
progress of the Sea Kings. In the Sagas it is stated that
Odin possessed two Ravens which traversed great dis-
tances and, returning to their master, whispered in his
ear the information they had gained during their travels.
In this country the Raven was formerly put to a less
picturesque use, for in the old coaching days it was custo-
mary to keep a tame Raven at the posting houses, and
when any traveller drove up, the Corbie would generally
call for the hostler.

The age to which the Raven lives is a matter of doubt,
but still he has the reputation of being a long-lived bird. A
Raven shot near Stockholm in 1839 had a plate on its beak
with the date 1770 engraved on it, so presumably the bird
had lived for 69 years after it had been branded. Though
in earlier days it was generally understood that the term
Corbie was applied to Ravens, and to Ravens alone, this
cannot always have been the case. An old rhyme has it :

" D'ye ken the hoose o' Sir William Forbes,
Surrounded by trees a' black wi' Corbies,
Frae whence the Pentland Hills are seen,
Covered wi' sheep, for ever green."

" Corbies " evidently here refers to the common Rook, but
still I think this must be rather an exceptional histance
of the use of the word.

The Raven is one of the most widely distributed of
birds, being found throughout Europe, Asia, and North
America, but more numerously in the northern than in
the southern parts of these continents. It is found nest-
ing in Greenland, Iceland, and in the Faroes, while in
Scandinavia it is common. In the High North it is com-

90 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

paratively tame, since there it has not experienced the
persecution which has rendered it so wary a bird in these
Islands. In the Maritime Alps the Raven is not un-
common ; I have met with it at Peira Cava, near Nice,
at a height of 5000 feet above sea-level, where it probably
nests in the forests of spruce and silver fir ; and I saw one
pursue an Eagle from its beat near the frontier between
France and Italy.

Description. — The adult male has the entire plumage
black, richly glossed with steel blue and purple, these
colours being most apparent on the upper parts of the
body, head, neck, and ui)per surface of the wings. The
feathers of the throat are lanceolate, much elongated,
and richly glossed with purple. The tail is wedge-shaped,
the central feathers being longer than the lateral ones.
The bill and legs are shining black, iris brown. The total
length is about 26 inches ; culmen,3'7; the extent of wings
may be 52 inches ; tail, lO'l ; tarsus, 2-65. The fourth
primary is the longest, the third only a trifle shorter, the
second one inch less than the third, and the first three
inches less than the second.

The female is a trifle less in size than the male, and not
quite so bright in her plumage.

Compared to the adult birds, the young fledgelings are
duller in colour, while the feathers on the throat are loose
in texture and are not lanceolate. In Northern Europe
partial albinos have from time to time been met with,
especially in Iceland and in the Faroe Islands.

THE GREY OR HOODED CROW

CORVUS CORN IX
Fbannaige, Feannag-ghlas (Gaelic); Cobneille Mantel6b {French).

Had the Grey Crow the power to reason out the affairs
of this world, there is no doubt but that he would find him-
self the most confirmed of pessimists. But, happily for
him, his nature is philosophical, stoical, and though every
man's hand is turned against him, he yet has the power to
extract some considerable enjoyment out of his chequered
career. The Hoodie may be likened to a " black lister,"
an outcast to society. Wherever grouse-preserving is
attempted — that is, throughout almost the whole of
Scotland — the Grey Crow can hold his own only by the
exercise of stealth and cunning. If he attempts to nest
amongst one of those isolated clusters of fragrant -smelling
birches near the head of a glen where, one would think,
he would be left in peace and quiet — for he has miles be-
tween him and the nearest habitation — ^the zealous keeper
is soon on the scene. He knows from past experience
that the Hoodie is wont to resort to this little wood, and
it is his business to make matters as unpleasant for Corvus
comix as it is possible to make them. The mother Grey
Crow has in all probability had unpleasant experiences
of the Highland keeper in former years, and so, as she covers
her eggs, she constantly scans the glen on every side,
slipping noiselessly from her nest while her enemy is still
a considerable distance away. But the keeper is resolved
that she and her mate also shall pay toll for their misdeeds,
and if necessary he will lie concealed through the whole

92 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of the night in the hope that she will return to the nest
and offer a chance of a shot.

On a certain occasion a Hoodie had her young on a
grouse moor. The keeper on whose beat the outcasts
had made their appearance constructed a " hide " in the
vicinity of the nest and waited for many hours in the hopes
that the parent birds would return with food for their
family and would offer the chance of a shot. But they
never put in an appearance, and so the keeper cut off the
top of the tree with the nest on it, placed it on the ground,
and set traps round it. The strategy was successful, and
before long both parent birds were accounted for.

But fortunately for the Hoodie, there are two sanc-
tuaries still open for it in Scotland — one on the coasts,
the other amongst some of the wilder deer forests where
the Grouse are discouraged, and where for this reason the
Grey Crow may even be looked upon with favour. Here
the birds remain throughout the year in comparative safety,
but immediately they extend their ranges to the neigh-
bouring grouse moors a most hostile reception awaits them.

The reputation of the Grey Crow is certainly not a
savoury one. He is an inveterate thief, and during the
nesting season he is ever on the alert to pick up and carry
away the eggs of any Grouse who has left her nest un-
guarded while she is away feeding. These ill-gotten
trophies the Hoodie bears off — carrying them in his bill
— to some moss or burnside, where he helps down his repast
with draughts of water. He does not confine his unwel-
come attentions only to birds — a newly-dropped lamb
or a sickly ewe may be set upon by a number of Grey
Crows, and the unlucky victim's eyes pulled out while
the breath is still in its body. To the shepherds of the
western coasts the bird is the embodiment of evil. To
them he is An t-eun Acarachd — " the bird without compas-
sion " — and they name him truly indeed.

THE GREY CROW 93

Disputes have for long been chronicled as to whether
the Grey Crow and the Carrion Crow are distinct species.
They interbreed it is true, but their range is not the same,
and there is, I think, no doubt that they are quite separate
species. Vast hordes of Scandinavian Hoodies cross the
North Sea on the easterly winds which presage the coming
of winter, and spread over the eastern coasts of England,
but they are merely winter visitors, and depart again
with the spring. The Carrion Crow, on the other
hand, is found nesting throughout England where suitable
localities occur ; even on the outskirts of London it may
be seen nesting in isolated trees. It is not many years
ago since a Hoodie mated with a Carrion Crow, and the
pair constructed their nest on the summit of a fir — Ahies
nohilis — on our ground. The hen was of the Grey species ;
she had seemingly come from a part of the world where
little consideration had been shown her, for she was ex-
tremely wary, and left the nest every time the front door
was opened. It was probably the result of this nervous-
ness, and of the consequent prolonged absences from her
nest, that none of the eggs hatched out, though when two
species intermate the eggs are not always fertile.

The nest of the Grey Crow is usually — at all events in
the eastern and central districts of Scotland — placed in a
tree, a birch or Scots pine being the site generally chosen.
It is thus curious that the famous Scottish ornithologist
MacGillivray, writing early in the nineteenth century,
should never have heard of them nesting in such a posi-
tion. Either the Hoodie must have changed his habits
greatly during the last hundred years, or MacGillivray
can scarcely have been acquainted with the extensive
forests of Ballochbuie and Mar. At times the nesting spot
is a ledge of rock, and on the west coast of Scotland this
is indeed the usual situation. It is a point of interest
that I have never seen the nest in such a position inland,

94 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

although suitable rocks arc not wanting in the central -
lying deer forests. On the Hebridean Islands, where
the Hoodie nests on islets so remote that he rarely sees
the face of man, the eggs are laid sometimes amongst
the heather. Though the Hoodie is an early nester, the
eggs are nearly a month later in appearing on the
scene than those of the Rook. On an average, April
10th is the date on which the mother bird com-
mences to brood in the more sheltered glens, but in
exposed situations it is a week or even a fortnight later
before the last egg is laid. In number the eggs are from
four to six. In ground colour, as in markings, they closely
resemble those of the Rook, but are rather larger in size.
An average type of egg has a ground colour of pale bluish
green, on which are set markings — blotches or spots —
of greenish brown or pale purplish grey. The hollow in
which they repose is a very deep one — so deep, in fact,
that it is extremely difficult to see into the nest from above.
Like the Raven, the Grey Crow constructs the foundations
of her nest of partially-burnt heather twigs, while towards
the centre the structure is lined with wool and deer's hair.
A favourite nesting site is a narrow and rocky glen with a
hill burn running through it. Here the Hoodies construct
their nests in the stunted birches which fringe the banks
of the stream, but, unlike their relatives the Rooks, they
are not gregarious, and one pair of birds will not allow a
second to approach too near to their nesting site. One
little glen I know of where the Grey Crow seems to escape
its enemies. In the main strath a big loch catches the rays
of the spring sun, or is tossed with the winds which sweep
up from the north. But in the small glen quietness is
always. The birches here are late in putting forth their
buds of tender green, buds which throw out over the hill-
side a sweet aroma, especially after the mist has filled the
corrie or a shower of soft rain has stolen quietly down from

Grey Crow's nests in a shri.tkred glex.

THE GREY CROW 95

the great hill to the westward. In almost every birch
is a nest of the Grey Crows. One indeed holds two such
nests, but they have long since been discarded. And now
the mother Hoodie has chosen a diminutive birch, not
ten feet in height, in which to rear her young. She is
constantly on the alert as she sits quietly on the nest,
with three or four small babies with reddish, almost naked
bodies under her, but the glen is shut in, and thus one can
approach near without arousing her fears.

In her ears as she broods is ever the rushing of the
hill burn, and in the noise of the waters her family are
cradled. There is but one thing to anger the mother
bird. Every now and again there appears, sailing high
in the heavens, the dark shape of the Golden Eagle. His
eyrie is near at hand, constructed also on a birch, and he
is on the look-out for one of the numerous rabbits which
populate the glen. For some unexplained reason the very
sight of the King of Birds fills the heart of the Hoodie
with fury. She rises abruptly from her nest, and with
quick, clean wing-beats forges herself in hot pursuit of her
hereditary foe. She is not the only one of her tribe in
her chase. Already half a dozen of her relations from
different points of the main glen are engaged in mobbing
the Eagle, dashing down at him repeatedly with harsh,
croaking calls. But the Eagle sails by, aloof, inscrutable,
and so the breathless and indignant Crows return reluc-
tantly to their family affairs once more.

The hatred shown by the Grey Crow towards the Eagle
appears to be somewhat unreasoning. If a Grouse or
Ptarmigan harboured feelings of resentment one might
sympathise, for these birds constantly fall victims to the
Eagle. But so far as I am aware, the Hoodie is left severely
alone by the great bird of prey, and it is only when the
two attempt to share a feast of venison or sheep's flesh
that animosity may be shown by the Eagle. And yet a

90 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Hoodie never sights him without giving immediate chase.
The young Hoodies grow rapidly, and it is during their
youth that their parents make such inroads into the eggs
of the Grouse nesting near. These stolen eggs are never
taken to the nest itself ; they are swallowed by the adult
Crow and arc rcgm'gitated for the young. It is after the
storms of snow that frequently sweep over the higher
hills during the month of May that the Hoodies have
their greatest feast. Such a storm causes many of the
higher-nesting Grouse, Ptarmigan, and Golden Plover to
leave their nests, and after the storm has passed and the
snow has melted the Hoodies patrol the moors, reaping
a rich and incidentally harmless harvest. Truly it is an
ill wind that blows good to none.

In a deer forest the Grey Crow has his uses. Many an
old or sickly deer falls a victim to the rigours of winter, and
were it not for the Hoodies, its body would long encumber
the ground. Then again, in autumn when a stag is shot
and " gralloched," the entrails are left on the hillside,
and so sure are the Crows of the impending feast, that
shortly after the report of the rifle they may be seen
winging their way from various parts of the hill towards
the spot whence the report came. To quite a number
of stalkers the Hoodie is known as " the Raven." A
friend of mine, on making his first visit to Scotland's
largest deer forest, inquired of a stalker whom he met
whether the Raven was common in the district. Now,
as a matter of fact, it is almost unknown hereabouts,
so that when my friend was informed that the " ground
was black wi' Ravens," he was in considerable perplexity,
till he realised that the " Ravens " were Grey Crows.
In this forest the Hoodies are exceptionally numerous
during the nesting season, but during the winter some
of them at least must migrate to the coast, where
food is much more plentiful than at an elevation of from

THE GREY CROW 97

1000 to 2000 feet above sea -level. By March they have
returned to their nesting sites among the hills.

Tlie call of the Hoodie is a sound which, in the stillness
of the forest j is heard at a great distance, especially during
the quiet of the evening, when there is a great silence over
the woods and glens of the hills. An hour or so after the
sunset of an autumn night I was making my way down a
mountain glen. The frost was already holding the ground,
and was hardening the newly-fallen snow, which lay where
the sun had failed to reach it during the short hours of his
appearance. The afterglow in the west was throwing out
in bold relief the bleak plateau of Monadh Mor, and the
rocks of Carn a'Mhaim seemed blacker by reason of the
snow which covered the heather-clad slopes. It was
from these rocks there now were thrown out curious deep
barking cries, cries which one might imagine might proceed
from a restless spirit roving the hills. Or could it be that
a stag had fallen from the rocks, and had injured himself
to the death ? The call notes were quite unlike anything
I had ever before heard, and it was with a feeling almost
of incredulity that I discovered from a nearer approach
that they came from an old Hoodie who had taken up
his station for the night on those dark rocks. In the great
deer forest where this incident occurred the Hoodie is
permitted to live out his life in quietness : here the fox,
the magpie, even the sanguinary stoat and weasel are
spared, and the balance of nature is left undisturbed.
But from this forest the Grey Crows spread out into the
land north, south, east, and west. Here they are at first
unsuspecting, not knowing that every man's hand must
be against them, but even the most constantly-practised
wariness does not save them from an untimely end.

When a Grey Crow's nest has been robbed; and yet
the owners have escaped, they wander far and wide over
the moors, searching for the eggs or the young chicks

98 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of the Grouse and Ptarmigan. Their flight is powerful,
but is not so steady as that of the Raven. In soaring, too,
they are greatly inferior to the latter bird — in fact, it may
be said with some truth that a Hoodie cannot soar. Even
when descending from a height and moving through the
air at a great speed, the wings are occasionally flapped, as
much, I think, with the object of steadying the bird as
of accelerating its progress.

During the months of winter many Hoodies are to be
seen along our coasts. A storm is welcome to them, for
they feed greedily on any refuse thrown up by the waves.
I have seen one for some time working assiduously in the
endeavour to open a mussel, and, as is usually the case,
perseverance was at length rewarded, and the prize laid
bare and swallowed. In the Shetlands so many sea
urchins are devoured by the Hoodies that the name
Cragan feannaige — the cups of the Grey Crow — has been
given to these sea creatures. Should the Hoodie have
discovered a delicacy, and a Raven appears on the scene,
the Grey Crow immediately makes way for his rival, nor
will he, as the Raven, advance to meet a dog.

There is one characteristic of the Hoodie of sufficient
interest to be put on record — it is his peculiar conduct
when the rain is approaching. A Hoodie, perched on a
tree-top or on a rock, commences to utter his croak at
regular intervals, and is responded to by another of his
tribe in the distance. Whether he is discussing the ap-
proaching storm, or whether he is merely unconsciously
influenced, it is, I believe, true that rain may confidently
be expected after suqh behaviour. The note of the Hoodie
is difficult, as indeed are the notes of most birds, to put in
writing, but it somewhat resembles the words, ceraa, cerda.

In Shetland an event, known as the " Craas' court,"
occurs in spring. A large flock of Hoodies appear from all
directions. Apparently the court is held for the purpose

THE GREY CROW 99

of dealing out sentence to certain Crows who have been
guilty of some offence, for after an hour or so of delibera-
tion the whole assembly turn fiercely on certain indi-
viduals and peck them to death.

Throughout the whole of Northern Europe the Grey
Crow is an abundant species, and extends his range to
beyond the Arctic Circle. In Russia in spring I found him
to be perhaps the most common bird in the region border-
ing the Baltic. Here he is unmolested; and is constantly
about the unkept villages, foraging for food along the
uncleanly streets piled high with rotting straw. He cares
little for the passers-by, and it is possible to admire his
glossy black head and the contrasting pale grey of his
breast and back. In Russia it was my experience that
the Hoodie consorted with Jackdaws, and sometimes with
Magpies.

Description. — The Grey Crow varies considerably in
its plumage. The mantle and under parts are of grey, but
the rest of the plumage is of a rich glossy black. The
female is rather smaller than the male and duller in colour.
The young do not develop the purple gloss till after their
first autumn moult. The length of the Grey Crow is
about nineteen inches.

Hybrids between the Grey Crow and the Carrion Crow
{Corvus cor one) show every gradation between the two
species.

THE PTARMIGAN

L AGO PUS MUTUS

Gealag bheirne, Ian ban an-t Sneac, Tarmaciian, Tarmacitan
SNEACAO, Gralag diieinne, Tarm-VCIdvn creaoacii (Qaelic) ; Lago-
pfeDE MXTET (French); Alpen schneehuhn {Qermnn); Fjal Ripe
(Norwegian) ; Kuruna (Finyiish).

Associated as it must always be with Nature in her most
grand and noble forms, the Ptarmigan appeals to the
ornithologist with a force equalled by few indeed of our
British birds. Instilled into the Tarmachan of the Gaels
is the very essence of the hill country — it would seem
to be inseparable from the steep hill faces and gloomy
corries where Nature is yet in her most primitive state.

Ptarmigan live out their quiet unobtrusive lives re-
moved far apart from the world. As was truly written
by a recent writer — an authority on the Gaels and their
traditions — fires might ravage the country far and wide,
cities might fall before the sword, yet the Ptarmigan would
not know, would not care. It is rare that they even see
the figure of a man except, maybe, a wandering shepherd
or a stalker out after a stag on the highest grounds. It
may be that this want of knowledge of the human char-
acter has not a little to do with the extreme tameness
which they often show. There are times, notably in dull,
quiet weather and during the calm of an early summer
morning, when it is almost impossible to induce the Tar-
machan to take wing. One such occasion I recall on a
morning of July. Crossing a stony hill-face about 5 a.m.,
we disturbed a covey of Ptarmigan. Instead of rising
from the ground, the birds walked reluctantly forward

THE PTARMIGAN 101

only a few yards in front of us, and directly we diverged
from their line of retreat squatted quietly among the
rocks. Another experience I had of the White Grouse
occurred on August 14th, 1913, on Ben Mac Dhui. The
birds — a cock and a hen — were on the summit plateau
at a height of quite 4200 feet above sea-level, and showed
such extreme tameness, refusing to take wing as I ap-
proached, that I was able to observe their state of plumage
and to notice that in both cases the legs had already as-
sumed the winter covering of white feathers.

During windy weather Ptarmigan are sometimes
difficult to approach, but this is by no means always the
case, as I have been able to walk to within a few yards of
a pack on an open hillside with a strong wind sweeping
across from the west.

In the Ptarmigan country it is late before spring
arrives to thaw the frozen wastes and to liberate the
hill burns from the grip of the ice. In fact, it may be
said that there is no real spring on the high hills, only
winter and summer. For days, maybe, during the
month of April the mountain-tops are shrouded in
driving storm clouds and the plateaux are swept with
blinding blizzards of snow. Even in May these blizzards
often continue, and at the beginning of this month the
high hills of the Ben Nevis and Cairngorm range not
infrequently carry a greater covering of snow than during
any other time of the year. Then, in mid-May, perhaps
with little or no warning, weeks of northerly winds and
arctic conditions give place to cloudless days, when the
sun shines forth from a sky of azure blue and when,
under the influence of the strong rays of sunlight and
of soft currents of wind from the south, the snow dis-
appears rapidly from even the highest grounds. All life
is quick to respond to the change. The Dotterel and
the Wheatear arrive to mark out their nesting sites for

102 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the suinmer, and the wild, flute-hke song of the Snow Bunt-
ing is heard from the rough granite-covered slopes. Plant
life bursts into growth. The mountain azalea i)ushes
forth its buds, and in a fortnight's time carpets the hills
up to about 3000 feet with its pink or crimson blooms,
which possess the most delicate china-like appearance.
At still higher levels the cushion pink, perhaps a fortnight
later in flowering, tinges the hill slopes with its flowers, and
the dwarf willow, raising its branches less than half an inch
above the ground, rapidly shows its delicate green leaves.

The pairing of the Ptarmigan takes place before the
melting of the snows, and indeed from personal observa-
tions I have come to the conclusion that a certain number
of the birds remain mated throughout the year. The
pairing is accomplished much in the same manner as
that which characterises the courtship of the Red Grouse
— the cock Ptarmigan displaying himself to the best
advantage before the admiring hen, and strutting back-
wards and forwards with tail held high and spread fan-
wise. By April all the birds are paired, and should the
season be an exceptionally open one, the nesting site is
chosen early in May. Such early nesting on the part of
Ptarmigan is, however, often attended with disastrous
consequences.

I remember how in the spring of 1907 a heavy storm
of wind and snow swept the high hills during the first
week of June. The majority of Ptarmigan had just
commenced to brood at the time, and wellnigh every
nest was destroyed, the snowfall being so deep — in places
drifts many feet high were i)iled up — that the birds were
unable to hold their ground and remain on their eggs.
A few days after the storm I happened to traverse a
favourite ground of the Tarmachan, and found several such
deserted nests within a comparatively small radius with
every egg sucked, by Grey Crows or by stoats, I imagine.

THE PTARMIGAN 103

There is no doubt that Ptarmigan are often compelled
to deposit their eggs on the surface of the snow when a
storm descends on the hills during the nesting season;
and I have found eggs lying deserted, with no nest in the
vicinity, which were most probably laid under these
conditions. Last season a Ptarmigan's egg was dis-
covered laid on the top of a moss-grown boulder.

I think that the most interesting event in my ornitho-
logical career was the finding of my first Ptarmigan's nest
nearly ten years ago. The ambition of finding such a
nest had long occupied my mind, but a number of searches
in Ptarmigan country had resulted in nothing more definite
than the flushing of cock birds and barren pairs, and as
none of the stalkers with whom I had spoken on the sub-
ject had ever found a nest themselves — their work does
not take them to the high tops during the nesting season —
I had begun to despair of ever fulfilling this ambition of
mine.

On the eventful day I started out from the low ground
in the early morning of a certain 27'th of May. The
weather was magnificent. Not a breath of wind, with
the sun shining from an unclouded sky. My way led
me first past a birch wood, where, even at this late season,
few of the trees had begun to put forth their leaves, then,
leaving the last stunted veteran behind, I reached the
open moorland — first the home of the Grouse and then
of the bird whose nest I was so anxious to locate. The
first cock Ptarmigan flushed on the watershed about
3000 feet above sea-level, flew strongly off, but the second
took wing with reluctance, and after crossing a small snow-
filled gully a few yards away, seemed to me to hesitate
above a stone-covered part of the hill. This led me to
search the vicinity with extreme care, and, to my intense
gratification, a hen Ptarmigan fluttered from her nest
almost at the exact spot where the cock had hesitated in

104 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

his flight. As she rose she was ahnost at once joined by
the cock, and the birds took up their station about 200
yards from me. The nest contained eight eggs, laid in a
hollow of exceptional depth, and during the time I was
photographing my find, both the owners kept up a succes-
sion of soft croaking cries of anxiety. Tlie eggs of this
nest disappeared mysteriously a short time after my
visit, but for a number of years the nesting hollow was
clearly visible, and could, I believe, even now be identified.
The nest of the White Grouse is merely a hollow,
usually shallow, but sometimes of considerable depth, as
in the case just mentioned, scraped on the hillside amongst
plants of the crowberry — Empeirum nigrum — or the
short Alpine grasses which flourish on the high hills. It
is never, so far as my experience goes, placed at a lower
level than 2500 feet above the sea, and as a result is com-
paratively seldom found in heather. I have only on one
occasion found a Ptarmigan brooding in long heather,
and, strangely enough, she was more wild than any of her
neighbours who were covering their eggs quite unprotected
on the bare hillside. It may be worth while recording
here that I have endeavoured as far as possible to fix the
upward limit of growth of the common heather — Calluna
vulgaris — in this country, and from these observations
place its greatest elevation on the w^estern slopes of Ben
Mac Dhui, w^here it is met with up to a height of 3300 feet
above sea-level, though rarely flowering near the limits
of its range. Though the Ptarmigan never nest on the
lower hills, they are rarely found at the 4000 foot level —
in fact, I do not remember having discovered a nest at a
greater altitude than 3G00 feet, though the parent birds
move up w^ith their broods even to the highest tops (4300
feet) when the -weather is fine. The nest is sometimes
scraped out between two stones, which afford the brooding
bird a certain amount of shelter, but is often extremely

THE PTARMIGAN 105

exposed, and in such a position that the mother Ptarmigan
must sit out quite unprotected from the strong gales and
heavy rainstorms which so often sweep the high hills. I
have found it to be the case, however, that north-facing
hill slopes are avoided during the nesting season. The
nest is often lined with a few pieces of lichen — ^the " rein-
deer moss " being often chosen — or stems of dead grass,
and may contain a number of snow-white feathers from
the parent bird ; for the latter at the time of incubation
is in the midst of her first moult. I do not, however,
think that she deliberately uses her feathers for this
purpose.

The eggs, as a rule, number from six to nine, though as
many as seventeen have been found. I imagine, how-
ever, that this exceptional clutch was the product of two
hens. The eggs are laid daily, and incubation is usually
commenced before the number is complete. Until the
mother bird has actually commenced to brood she covers
her eggs, on leaving the nest, with grass and lichen ; but
this covering is not done in so thorough a manner as by
the members of the Duck family — so imperfectly, in fact,
that two or three of the eggs may still remain visible.
The eggs so closely resemble those of the Red Grouse that
I doubt whether it is possible to distinguish them apart,
though they may at times be slightly smaller in size, the
measurements being 1'7 inches by I'l inches.

As far as I have been able to determine, the period of
incubation is three weeks — ^that is, slightly longer than
that of the Red Grouse — owing, perhaps, to the lower
temperature which prevails on the high hills. The mother
Ptarmigan sits more closely than any British bird. I
have erected a cairn at a distance of four feet from a
Ptarmigan on her nest, and have secured several photo-
graphs of her from this improvised stand, without disturb-
ing her, as far as could be seen. A brooding Ptarmigan

106 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

has been discovered between the legs of a pony during a
halt for lunch, and on another occasion by a dog sitting
down on the mother bird. I remember on one occasion
discovering a Ptarmigan just as my foot was descending
right on the top of the unfortunate bird, who was crouch-
ing with eyes half closed beneath me. Even the collapse
of a heavy half-plate camera beside her has failed to
induce a Ptarmigan to leave her eggs, and I heard an
instance of a stalker removing an egg from the nest while
the bird was brooding.

The nest is often placed in close proximity to a snow-
field, where, on hot sunny days, the hen bird probably
cools herself. On two occasions I have found a Ptarmi-
gan's nest beneath the shelter of a stone. The position
is unusual, and the birds may have had a definite idea
of protection in this sheltered site, for in one instance
Common Gulls daily patrolled the hillside, taking heavy
toll of unprotected eggs, and in the second case the nest
was only a few hundred yards from a Golden Eagle's
eyrie. That this precaution was not superfluous may
be gathered from the fact that I have more than once seen
a Ptarmigan's nest with some of the eggs lying outside.
This had, I imagine, been caused by the hurried fhght
of the birds, and the feather of an eagle lying near ex-
plained this quick departure — in one case, at all events.
On an average season and at a fair average elevation —
3000 feet — ^the first eggs are laid about May 20th, and
a week later incubation is commenced. During the
ensuing period the cock bird mounts guard on some
prominent boulder near by, and by repeatedly croaking
cries warns his mate of the approach of danger.

When a cock Ptarmigan is flushed under these circum-
stances, he flies only a short distance — not infrequently
in a circle — before alighting on some rock and watching
the intruder with considerable anxiety. I remember once

THE PTARMIGAN 107

disturbing a hen Ptarmigan from her nest without the
cock having apparently realised the proximity of danger.
He immediately flew down from the hillside above and
joined his mate, the two birds walking together a short
distance before me — the hen, sober and dejected, her
husband more erect and soldierly, with head thrown well
back, and tail spread fanwise. I have seen, on such occa-
sions, the male bird apparently in conversation with his
mate, and evidently remonstrating with her on her lack of
courage in leaving her nest.

The young birds are able to move about actively from
the first few hours of their existence. They are said to be
able to fly at the age of eight days, but I consider this to be
an exaggeration, though they are strong on the wing when
only slightly larger than Larks. It is written that soon
after ttie young are hatched the cock birds betake them-
selves to the highest tops, where they join other bachelor
friends, returning to the brood when the young can fly
strongly, and my own observations especially during 1914
lead me to suppose that this is, sometimes at least, the case.

No bird is so dependent on the weather during the
nesting season as the Ptarmigan, and a really satisfactory
year for them is an extreme rarity. I do not think I
exaggerate when I say that 50 per cent, of the higher-
nesting birds lose their eggs or young during an average
season, and probably this estimation is considerably short
of the mark. During no month in the twelve is the
possibility removed of a snowstorm descending without
warning on the high hills. Often the last days of June or
the first days of July see a north-easterly wind with driv-
ing snow squalls blotting out the higher hills, and these
storms have a disastrous effect on those younger Ptarmi-
gan which are not of a sufficiently mature age to fly to
lower levels.

As I have mentioned, the hen PtarVnigan are in the

108 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

habit of taking their broods to the highest plateaux dur-
ing fine summer days, and on one occasion while walking
across the summit of Braeriach (4248 feet above sea-level)
I disturbed a hen Ptarmigan with her brood near the edge
of a precipice over 1000 feet high. Though the young
were incapable of powerful or long-sustained flight, a
number of the family made straight for the rocks, dis-
appearing from view in the corrie beneath, while the
parent bird betrayed signs of great alarm. I have often
wondered what is the procedure on the part of the mother
bird on such occasions. It is obvious that those of her
family already at the foot of the precipice or clinging
to ledges some distance from the top are quite unable
to regain the summit, so the mother of the chicks must
either induce those of her brood still remaining above
to make the exacting flight, or else must leave a number
of her progeny for good and all.

It is a matter of interest how rarely one comes across
coveys of young Ptarmigan even approaching the number
of eggs laid by the birds. At comparatively low eleva-
tions— ^that is, from 2500 to 3000 feet — broods are of
good size, consisting perhaps of six or seven birds, but
above 3000 feet, I doubt whether the number of young in
a family would average four. This is the more worthy
of notice since Ptarmigan are excellent mothers, and can
invariably be called up, when they have a brood in the
vicinity, by the imitation of the alarm note of a chick in
distress. On many occasions I have deceived the mother
Ptarmigan by this method, and have repeatedly called
her to within a few yards of me. Once I remember a
Ptarmigan, which I realised from her behaviour must have
young, climbing a rocky hillside above me. Here, stand-
ing on a narrow ledge of rock, she remained quietly till I
used the distress cry of one of her family. The parent
in her anxiety over-balanced herself, falling several yards

THE PTARMIGAN 109

before she succeeded in flying out over the rock and down
to my feet. On such occasions the birds have run round
me in a circle, trailing their wings and crouching low —
taking advantage during all this time of any shelter they
may happen to pass — and uttering a curious squeaking
cry of distress periodically.

On account of the precarious nature of their nesting,
many young Ptarmigan are found till mid-July in the
downy stage. I have myself seen a young bird with
undeveloped tail towards the end of September ; and in
1913, on July 10th, I came across a brood of six Ptarmigan
not more than a couple of days old, while I heard of a
brood being found in a similar state on the 24th of that
month. Young Ptarmigan much resemble Grouse, though
rather smaller and of a more golden tint, but the nature
of the ground on which they are found is usually sufficient
to identify them. Although certain Ptarmigan do lay a
second time, this is by no means always the case when the
first clutch has been destroyed, and many of the White
Grouse in this position form into packs of, maybe, 100
birds as early as the commencement of July.

Besides the damage done to the eggs and young of the
White Grouse by unseasonable falls of snow, a consider-
able number of eggs are devoured by Grey Crows and
Common Gulls. Both these birds bear off their booty
in their bills to some loch or hill burn where they wash
down their meal with draughts of water. I once visited
a colony of Common Gulls where they nested on a wild
hill loch, and found, in the shallow water, the remains of
eggs of Grouse and Ptarmigan. This might point to the
fact that the young Gulls were sometimes fed on an egg
diet — the suggestion is given for what it is worth.

The Grey Crow is an inveterate egg-stealer, as is also,
in the more western districts, the Raven. The hill fox
not infrequently surprises the Ptarmigan as she broods

110 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

on her eggs or watches over her young, and that arrant
scoundrel, the stoat, sucks the eggs and the life-blood of
the baby chicks. I have found the headless body of a
hen Ptarmigan in full summer plumage near a low sheep
fence on which she had seemingly decapitated herself —
perhaps in endeavouring to escape the eagle. On one
occasion I disturbed a Ptarmigan which, from the excite-
ment she betrayed, I imagined must have yotmg in
the neighbourhood. After searching for a time I dis-
covered traces of a scufTle, and later the headless body
of a Ptarmigan a few days old. The small victim was
quite warm, and had in all probability been slain by a
stoat. I doubt whether this animal is often successful
in capturing adult Ptarmigan except during the nesting
season ; but on Ben Mac Dhui, I watched a stoat running
actively around in the snow — ^the season was early October
— at the spot where a few minutes previously a covey of
Ptarmigan had taken flight.

I have always thought that one of the most misleading
things about the Ptarmigan is the scientific name by which
it is generally known. Lagopus mutus is certainly singu-
larly inappropriate, and a much more suitable designation
would be Lagopus montanus or Lagopus alpinus : for the
Tarmachan is considerably more demonstrative than its
relative the Red Grouse when the safety of its eggs or
young is concerned. The hen Grouse, when discovered
on her nest, flies straight away, and neither she nor the
cock appear in the vicinity till danger is past. In the
case of the White Grouse, however, the cock bird often
remains with the hen near the nest, keeping up a mournful
croaking until the intruder has left the nesting site.

The cry of the Tarmachan is, I think, quite unlike
that of any other bird, resembling, slightly, the croaking
of a frog. At times the birds, when vaguely disturbed
though not alarmed, make use of a curious note which

THE PTARMIGAN 111

is not unlike the winding of a clock or the ticking of
a fishing reel. The note of the Ptarmigan has been
compared to that of the Missel Thrush, but a more
inappropriate comparison would be difficult to discover,
as the two cries are totally unlike. An interesting
habit of this mountain Grouse is its descent, during the
earliest hours of the day, to comparatively low levels,
the birds returning to their haunts on the high grounds
after the rising of the sun. No satisfactory explanation
has been advanced to account for this fact, although it
has been suggested that a search for more abundant
food supplies may cause this vertical migration. That
this migration does occur was made evident to me a short
while ago while crossing the road leading from Braemar
to Perth in the early morning of an April day. The road
even at its highest level is only 2200 feet above the sea,
yet Ptarmigan in pairs were met with on the roadside at
an elevation of under 2000 feet, at a point where during
the day I have never seen them anywhere in the vicinity.
The food of the Ptarmigan consists largely of the young
shoots of the blaeberry {Vaccinium myrtillus) and the
crowberry {Empetrum nigrum). Authorities on the bird,
including Mr. Millais, are inclined to be somewhat sceptical
as to the truth of the statements that the Tarmachan is a
heather eater, but from my own personal observations
I have no doubt that such is the case ; for I have not
infrequently watched the birds actually at work on the
young shoots of the ling, and have afterwards walked up
to the spot to examine the heather. I have noticed,
however, that the shoots of the club-moss are avoided.
In the autumn months the food is varied by the berries
of the blaeberry and of the red cranberry. The birds
also swallow large quantities of quartz grit. The young
are said to be fed upon tender grass tips and Juicy blae-
berry leaves. I am inclined to think that Ptarmigan

112 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

spend more time feeding than Grouse, and this may be
due to the fact that the vegetation growing at the high
altitudes frequented has not the same powers of nutri-
ment as that of the lower-lying moors.

There is, I suppose, no bird more fitted to withstand
a mountain snowstorm than the Ptarmigan, and as a
matter of fact an average snowfall leaves them unaffected,
provided there has been sufficient wind to blow some of
the more exposed feeding-grounds free of snow. Thus
an experience I had of the behaviour of the birds during
a blizzard of exceptional severity may be worth setting
down.

I was anxious to study the Ptarmigan in their winter
surroundings, and for this purpose spent a week in a rough
bothy far up an outlying glen in one of the wildest parts
of the Highlands. The morning of the big storm broke
with a southerly wind, bringing with it heavy rain, and
there was nothing to give the least indication of what was
to follow except a very low barometer indeed. During
the morning the glass steadied, the wind shifted right
round to the north, and soft wet snow commenced to fall ;
but notwithstanding this, a mountaineering friend and I
set out for the Ptarmigan ground — a sheltered corrie at
an elevation of some 2500 feet above the sea. As we
reached the corrie the snow thickened and we could see
the drift being blown across the more exposed parts of
the hill in blinding clouds. The frost was now intense,
and our clothes were frozen stiff and so covered with ice
and snow that we must have been in close harmony with
our surroundings, for I was able to stalk a pack of Ptar-
migan to within a few feet without the birds being, so
far as could be seen, aware of my presence. As the storm
thickened, we began to realise that quite a migration of
Ptarmigan was taking place into our corrie. The birds
arrived on wing and on foot, those on the wing occasion-

The aiist-fillei) corkie of the Ptarmigan.

Nest ok thk I'tarmkian, 3,500 keep above sea le\'el.

THE PTARMIGAN 113

ing a good deal of annoyance to the coveys which
chose the slower method of progress. Strong gusts of
wind periodically swept the corrie, and the Ptarmigan, as
they felt their approach, turned as one bird and, crouching
low on the snow, held their ground with great tenacity
until a lull allowed them to renew their progress down-
hill. After a time the birds took wing together, and dis-
appeared from sight towards lower levels ; but here the
storm was felt much more severely, and a little later on,
when we again disturbed the Ptarmigan, they made for the
corrie where we had originally seen them. Out in the open
the wind was blowing with gale force, the drift and falling
snow rendering progress difficult, and objects only a short
way off hard to distinguish.

We reached our shelter before the full force of the
storm swept the glen, and it was fortunate that we did
so, as the following incident will make clear. Although
the darkness had not yet closed in, the drift was so thick
that there was a certain element of danger in venturing
even a few yards from the door of the bothy ; so a coin
was tossed to decide who should make the journey to
the well for a fresh supply of water. I succeeded in
winning the toss, so my friend set out with a large pail
to search for the well. It may be difficult to credit the
fact, but so thick was the drift, that in the twenty-five
yards which separated well from bothy he several times
lost his bearings, and returned five minutes later breath-
less and exhausted, just as I was debating whether it would
be advisable to tune up my bagpipes to guide him back
to shelter.

No one who has not actually experienced a hill-storm
can form any conception of its severity, and from such an
experience one can realise the immense difficulties from
this source which beset the Arctic explorers on their
marches. I doubt whether, under the conditions which

114 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

we experienced, it would have been possible to have made
progress of a mile against the wind — all sense of direction
is lost, and it is with difficulty that one can draw breath.
Late in the evening the snow ceased to fall, but the
wind remaining at gale force, a continuous blizzard of dry,
pow^dery snow was drifted through the pass. At the level
of six feet above the ground, it was impossible to see more
than a few yards, but on the rocky hill face above, the full
moon shone with remarkable effect, lighting up the dark
cliffs and the snowy tops and showing drifting clouds of
smoky snow scurrying across the hill face. Throughout
the night great drifting continued, and so intense was
the frost that, in spite of a roaring fire of peat and wood
in the open hearth, water near the window remained frozen.
Next morning the quickly-flowing burn near the bothy
and the river in the main glen were both frozen across
almost everywhere — in fact, so firmly that in places it was
possible to stand on the newly-formed frozen snow and
ice of a night's growth. The drift that day, though
considerably diminished, was still sufficiently thick to
warrant us remaining within sight of our temporary
shelter, and it was not till the second day following that
which saw the commencement of the storm that we were
able to go once more to the corrie. That morning from
the bothy door we heard the croaking of the Ptarmigan,
although usually they are too far up the hillside to be
within earshot, and on climbing the hill, found the birds
in an obviously-exhausted state after their fight against
the blizzard. They were feeding energetically on the
tender shoots of the heather, and I noticed that when one
individual had pegged out a claim, the presence of a
second Ptarmigan within that claim was strongly resented,
though there was an abundance of food for both birds.
I noticed also that even at this season of mid-winter
most of the Ptarmigan had a few dark feathers on the

THE PTARMIGAN 116

back, but the cocks were conspicuous by reason of their
red combs and erect, strutting manner of walking. A day
or two later a crust formed on the surface of the snow,
and one's footmarks thus remained impressed for a con-
siderable time.

I was interested to observe on one occasion that most
of the Ptarmigan of that particular neighbourhood had
discovered an ideal shelter-ground in these footprints,
in which they dozed or pecked at the snow on the sides
of the hollows until they were herded out by new-comers.
After more than one morning spent in endeavouring to stalk
the Ptarmigan of the corrie, I came to the conclusion that
the birds were more wary after about two o'clock in the
afternoon than during the morning ; this may have been
because in the earlier part of the day they were engaged
in foraging for their main meal of the twenty-four hours.

In connection with the migration of the Ptarmigan
into the corrie at the commencement of the blizzard, I
am interested to find Mr. J. G. Millais writing as follows
on the subject of his experience in Norway in September
1907 : " Two days of ordinary snow made no impression
on these hardy birds, but a blizzard from the north on the
third day made all the Ptarmigan, to the number of, I
should say, 800 to 1000, leave the tops and north faces
and come flying in coveys to a sheltered corner. They
kept arriving for about two hours in a continuous stream.
Next morning I passed through this sheltered hollow,
and moved thousands of Ptarmigan, which only flew for a
short distance."

The disinclination of Ptarmigan to pay even short
flights to lower levels can be accounted for by the fact
that their heart and arteries are said to be specially
adapted for the low atmospheric pressure under which they
live ; and thus the birds necessarily suffer inconvenience
when this pressure is greatly increased. In spite of this

116 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

a case is on record — from Skye — of Ptarmigan being met
with at less than 100 feet from the sea-level, and as
recently as 1913, during a heavy snowfall in Perthshire,
they were seen on cultivated land.

In Norway Ptarmigan often follow the reindeer in the
winter and dive into the holes made by these animals,
thus obtaining a few berries. In winter they roost in the
snow, and in my experience even seek out snowfields on
which to roost during the summer months, for on such
fields in August and September I have frequently found
their roosting hollows. Ptarmigan sleep in coveys, but
Mr. Millais is of opinion that the birds when roosting to-
gether are more scattered than Grouse or Partridges, and
I am inclined to agree with him in this.

During the short days of December, when darkness
closes in about the hills three hours after noon, the soft
calling of the Ptarmigan is singularly in keeping with their
surroundings of grandeur. On such a day I have crossed
through a wild hill pass, and at the watershed have dis-
turbed a large pack of these White Grouse. The murmur
of many snowy wings as the birds wheeled their way
above my head from one hill face to another is a sound
that will for long be retained as a highly-prized gift of the
high hills — given only to those who know and appreciate
them in winter gloom as well as under a summer's sun.

When a vegetation composed of blaeberry and crow-
berry is present, the Tarmachan appear to choose that
ground for a home in preference to grass or heather,
because, I think, of their preference to the young shoots
of the former plants as food.

Ptarmigan in winter are as white as the snowy wastes
they inhabit, and I shall always remember the sight I
had of a covey of these birds crossing a hill -top in the rays
of a setting sun in January. As they emerged from the
slopes already in shadow and caught the sun on the plateau,

THE PTARMIGAN 117

their white plumage was instantly transformed, and the
Ptarmigan in their newly-acquired rosy dress, wheeling
rapidly past, presented a picture that must ever be retained
in the memory. The protective change of plumage on
the part of the Tarmachan, while usually of great service
to them in avoiding their enemies, has its disadvantages
when the winter snowstorms are late in descending on
the high hills.

In November, and even in December, snow is some-
times absent from the highest levels, and during times
such as these, Ptarmigan offer an easy mark to the Eagle
and hill fox, for they stand out against the dark hillsides
like miniature snow wreaths, and are visible at a distance
of, I should say, a full half-mile. If there should happen
to be any fields of snow on the hills, the Ptarmigan frequent
these fields throughout the day, venturing off only a short
distance to feed. On such a snowdrift every Ptarmigan
of that particular hill may resort, knowing that there,
and there only, are they protected from the keen sight
of the Eagle, for the great bird is constantly sailing on
motionless wings across the hill faces during the hours
of the short winter day. The presence of a fox does not
occasion the same amount of anxiety to these mountain
Grouse, but their four-footed enemy accounts for a great
number of victims during the course of a winter. On one
occasion a fox, chased by a collie dog, appeared to be
running with difficulty. Reynard disappeared in some
rocky ground, but was routed out and despatched, the
body being found to contain no less than three Ptarmigan,
including the wings and feathers of the birds.

In Iceland, the Iceland Falcons prey on the Ptarmigan
of that island, and there is a fable among the natives that
the Falcon screams with agony when, in devouring the
Ptarmigan, she finds, on reaching the heart, that she has
killed her long-lost sister.

118 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

The introduction of the letter P into Ptarmigan is a
comparatively recent innovation ; and as it is nmte, is
the more curious, and also superfluous on that account.
One of the first spellings of the word occurs as far back
as 1617 in a letter from James I to the Earl of Tullibardine,
when he commanded that a provision of Capercaillie and
Termigantis be made for the royal sustenance between
Durham and Berwick, The word is in reality of Gaelic
origin, for Tarmachan is the name by which the bird is
known to the Highlanders at the present day, and it was
formerly so designated even in the south of Scotland.
The Ptarmigan has three full moults in the course of the
year, and I quote Mr. J. G. Millais as to the particulars of
these moults, as he is recognised as perhaps the leading
authority on the subject.

Adult male in summer or breeding plumage. — General
colour of head, upper parts of the body, sides, and flanks
dark brown or blackish brown, mottled and barred with
grey, and rusty on the back, rump, and upper tail coverts.
Chin and throat mostly white. Upper part of breast
blackish brown. Quills, outer wing coverts, and rest of
under parts of the body white. Middle pair of tail feathers
black, though sometimes they may be pure white. Re-
maining tail feathers black, sometimes white towards the
base. The wattle and the comb above the eye are scarlet,
and the bill is black.

Adult female in summer plumage. — General colour
above — black, mixed with rufous buff, most of the feathers
being edged with white or pale buff. Chin usually white.
Breast, sides, flanks, and under tail coverts rufous buff,
barred with black. Middle pair of tail feathers black,
barred with rufous. Remaining tail feathers black with
white tips and — often — bases. Quills and outer wings
coverts white. Eye wattle scarlet. Bill black.

Adult male in autumn plumage. — Upper parts, chest,

THE PTARMIGAN 119

upper breast, and sides grey, finely mottled with black,
sometimes with buff. Throat barred with black and white.
Quills, outer wing coverts, and rest of under parts white.
The middle pair of tail feathers vary. In some birds
they are black, in others pure white, while again one may
be black, the other white. The adult female in autumn
plumage is similar to the male, but retains a few of the
buff and black feathers of the summer plumage. In both
male and female the feathers on the legs and toes are
moulted and renewed between June and September. The
claws are also shed.

Winter plumage. — In the full winter plumage the male
and female are pure white, with the exception of the tail
feathers, which are black, often margined with white, and
a black patch extending from the eye to the upper mandible.
In the female this patch is either rudimentary or entirely
absent. In this state they are difficult to identify from
the Willow Grouse — which are so often sold as Ptarmigan
in this country, but the males of the species may be dis-
tinguished by the fact that the Ptarmigan has, as already
stated, a black patch in front of each eye. The central
tail feathers of the Ptarmigan are the only ones which
change colour with the seasons, the remainder being
constant black.

The plumage of the young in the downy state is rusty
yellow with longitudinal markings and minute spots of
black ; the fii'st dress after that is black, mottled with
rusty yellow and white above, underneath pale rusty
brown with blackish wavy lines ; wings greyish brown.
Early in August the body plumage becomes greyish blue,
finely streaked with black, and the pinions white instead
of brown ; this grey plumage gradually becomes lighter as
in the old birds, and by November 1st they are difficult
to distinguish from their parents.

It is in February that the first signs of summer plumage

120 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

may appear — on the neck ; and during March and April
there is a gradual moult of the winter dress, the breast
feathers being the last to appear. I have, however, seen
a specimen still in almost full winter plumage in mid- April.
The winter feathers are gradually lost until, in the last
days of May, the summer dress is almost complete. In
June the males generally show white tips to the feathers
and white feathers still in the tail coverts — where a single
white feather is retained until July. The white tips on the
back and breast of the male have by now worn off, and
the plumage is much darker. In the female the plumage
is more rusty and faded. During the last week of July
the blue grey feathers of autumn make their appearance,
and the feathers fall off the legs. In August both cock
and hen Ptarmigan change to their full autumn plumage,
and at the end of that month the feathers of the feet have
appeared. During September the feathers of both male
and female fade. In October the feathers of the tail and
wings are renewed, and it is stated that at the middle of
this month the first pure white feathers make their ap-
pearance, but as far as my personal experience goes, the
commencement of the assumption of winter plumage
takes place a full fortnight before this date ; and on the
last day of the month, I on one occasion flushed a cock
Ptarmigan in full winter plumage, so far as could be seen.
In November a few of the old feathers of autumn still
remain on the back and head — by now the feet are fully
covered.

During December, as a rule, the white feathers of the
full winter plumage are assumed. I doubt whether INIr.
Millais is correct in his supposition that the assumption
of winter plumage varies with the mildness of the weather,
though I think that those Ptarmigan living at the highest
levels of their range retain their white dress further into
the spring than those having their homes on hills where

THE PTARMIGAN 121

the snow cap breaks up earlier. The cock Ptarmigan
of the north of Norway retain much white on their upper
parts right through the summer.

Although the Grouse of the high grounds are frequently
found nesting in Ptarmigan country, not a single undoubted
hybrid has ever been shot in Scotland, though several sup-
posed cases have occurred. A bird which was shot at Kin-
tradwell, Brora, in 1878 presented many hybrid features.
The feathers were a perfect blend of the two species, but
more than possibly it was merely an uncommonly marked
Grouse. It is, indeed, the great range of colour exhibited
by this latter bird that makes the identifying of hybrids
a matter of great difficulty. Two supposed hybrids
were exhibited in 1907 by the British Ornithologists'
Union, but their claims are not above suspicion. Still,
it is reasonable to suppose that hybrids must occasionally
occur.

Several authorities on the Ptarmigan agree that those
birds inhabiting the highest plateaux are considerably
smaller in size than those nesting at lower levels ; but I
must say that my somewhat extended observations have
not borne out this theory. This difference in size may be
more marked in other countries, for an instance is on
record of Ptarmigan being met with at the great eleva-
tion of 9700 feet above sea -level.

An interesting method of trapping Ptarmigan in the
Highlands is given by Mr. J. G. Millais. I gather, how-
ever, that this must now be numbered amongst those
old Highland practices which have been lost to us as the
result of the more strict game-preserving of recent years.
The trapper, armed with a bagful of oats and a beer
or — preferably — champagne bottle, makes his way, after
heavy snow, to a place on the hill where the Ptarmigan
usually congregate. Here he makes a number of indenta-
tions in the snow with his bottle, and fills the bottom of

122 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the cavity with grain to just within reach of the birds.
Unless frost comes, the plot must end in failure, but if
the cavity is properly hardened, the birds, after eating the
grain on the surface, attempt to reach that temptingly
displayed in the cavity. In doing so they over-balance
and are held prisoners, for the feathers resist all attempts
at backward progress.

In Lapland Ptarmigan are said to be caught in large
numbers in birch snares. Sometimes the close harmonisa-
tion of a hen Ptarmigan with her surroundings may be
against her safety. I have seen on more than one occasion
a herd of deer, moving quickly down a hillside at the
scenting of danger, pass right over the spot where a mother
Ptarmigan was tending her brood. The startled bird ran
forward in front of the stags feigning injury in order to
draw them away from the vicinity — a needless precaution
in the case of excited animals in full flight. The young
Ptarmigan on these occasions run a considerable risk of
untimely death, but they are able to conceal themselves
amongst rocks in a most remarkable manner, and probably
do so on the approach of the herd.

Although, as I have mentioned before. Ptarmigan
are found with their broods even on the very highest tops
during the summer months, they are rarely met with
above the 3000 feet line in winter ; and never, I think,
visit the plateaux about the 4000 feet line at that season
of the year. I am inclined to believe that on the hills
bordering the Atlantic the birds are found regularly at
somewhat lower altitudes than is the case on the Cairn-
gorm range.

There is little doubt, I think, that Ptarmigan make
periodic migrations from one hill to another, and I have
heard that when a certain isolated hill in Aberdeenshire
has been shot over repeatedly, the existing stock of Ptarmi-
gan take wing in a body, making for a hill about a dozen

THE PTARMIGAN 123

miles distant and across the Dee Valley. In Labrador
great migrations of Ptarmigan have been chronicled, and a
specimen has been shot on St. Kilda, an island fifty miles
out into the Atlantic off the Hebrides.

The flight power of the Ptarmigan is, I think, superior
to that of the Red Grouse ; and the birds can wing their
way up a steep hill face at a surprising speed. During
recent years Ptarmigan shooting has decreased in popu-
larity, and one rarely hears nowadays of really big bags
being obtained. The record shoot took place, I believe,
at Achnashellach, where 61 brace were accounted for in
a day ; but in 1886 as many as 27 brace were killed on the
Forest of Gaick, Inverness -shire, in the course of a single
drive. On this forest 60 brace have been shot during a
day.

Doubtless the long and strenuous walks up to Ptarmi-
gan ground prevent any but the most enthusiastic sports-
men from decimating the ranks of the White Grouse, and
I have never heard a gun fired on the Cairngorm range of
hills, which holds, I imagine, the most extensive area
of Ptarmigan ground in these Islands. But I do not think
that there has been an increase in the number of the birds
since I first became familiar with the range, though on
the Forest of Gaick, some fifteen miles to the west, their
numbers have greatly decreased.

Ptarmigan suffer attacks of the same disease as that
which causes such mortality amongst the Red Grouse.
In Iceland, according to Henry Slater, the rock Ptarmigan
are prone to epidemics similar to grouse disease. There
is the same emaciation, featherless legs and toes, and
inflammation of the viscera with abundant entozoa.
During 1913 grouse disease was more prevalent than for
a considerable time, and it is possible that Ptarmigan
were also sufferers. At all events, I have rarely seen so
few birds as during July of that year, when I was camping

124 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

out at an elevation of over 3000 feet, right in the heart
of the Ptarmigan country. One traversed extensive areas
of Ptarmigan ground without coming across a single bird,
the cold winds and snowfalls of early June having had a
disastrous effect on their numbers. The tendency of
the birds to pack early in the summer is, I think, ex-
plained by this fact — the unfortunate Ptarmigan which
have had their eggs or young destroyed joining up with
the barren birds, with the result that extensive packs
may be seen shortly after the Longest Day. In mid-July
I have seen such a pack, consisting of over a hundred
birds, which contained only one young individual.

Although I have frequently called up hen Ptarmigan
during the nesting season by imitating the distress cry
of their young, I had never succeeded in deceiving the
adult birds when free from family cares until quite re-
cently. It was in October on Cairngorm that I first
succeeded in effecting this. I flushed a cock which, from
his reluctance to move, I surmised must have a mate near,
so just to see what would happen, I whistled the high,
piercing note which had hitherto deceived the mother
birds. Somewhat to my surprise, the Ptarmigan ap-
proached, uttering croaking, anxious cries, and remained
in the vicinity till I left. I imagine that he thought
I had captured his mate, and that the disturbing cries
proceeded from her. I mention this partly to show how
much more attentive a bird — to its mate as well as to its
young — is the Ptarmigan than the Red Grouse ; for I
am quite certain that the latter bird would not show
such devotion in times of danger.

In his Rough Notes on the Birds observed during Twenty
Years^ Shooting and Collecting in the British Islands, Booth
gives an interesting account of Ptarmigan-shooting. He
found it the safest plan on such occasions to leave the
lodge by 3 or 4 a.m., so as to reach the high ground by

THE PTARMIGAN 125

daylight. An extract from this writer's notes for 18G5 is
given :

" December 7th. — It was well on towards midday before
we reached the top of the hill, and on approaching the
summit, it was evident that all the surrounding ranges
were enveloped in mist which was gradually advancing
from the NE. An immediate start in search of birds
was consequently made, in hopes of obtaining a brace or
two before the mist compelled us to desist. Forming at
once into line (two keepers, two gillies, and myself), so as
just to keep one another in sight, we made the best of our
way round the face of the hill. The surface of the snow
being hard and frozen, we were able to advance at some
speed, though, of course, walking on the slopes was risky.
On reaching a large patch of broken stones on the north
side of the hill, perhaps a wee bit over the march (but the
mist was so thick it was impossible to tell our where-
abouts with any certainty), the croak of a Ptarmigan was
heard, and on stopping the line and looking round, I soon
made out a white head over some large blocks of stone.
Almost immediately it was detected the bird dashed
downhill, though just too late to escape, and falling dead
rolled to the foot of the rocks. On being recovered it
proved to be a young cock, the plumage still exhibiting a
large amount of grey among the white feathers. After
passing two or three ugly spots where the line was forced
to open right and left, we started several birds which were
lost sight of in the mist before there was an opportunity
of firing a shot. At length during a slight break in the
clouds, as the mist was somewhat less dense, a drive was
attempted. Taking my station on a ridge on the east
side of the hill, the men were despatched right round.
One bird only could I discern, though several others passed
in the haze. Being uncertain whether the shot had
taken effect, we searched the direction which the bird had

126 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

followed, and found him at once perfectly dead, with the
wings spread out, on an open patch of ground from which
the snow had drifted. When again going round the hill,
some birds were heard croaking a hundred yards or so
in front of the line. On making towards the sound,
intently examining the outline of the snow to obtain an
early view of the pack, a large sheet of ice was overlooked
and, my feet slipping, away I went downhill. Luckily
there was a drift of newly-fallen snow (soft as a feather
bed) about twenty feet below, and into this I pitched
quite easily, none the worse, not even a shake. Had it
not been for the snow, I must have gone over a hundred
feet to the bottom of a steep gully. . . .

" It was now nearly dark, and time to be leaving the
hill ; so the keeper called the men together. As two of
them were not forthcoming, and had not been seen for over
an hour, I fired several shots without, however, the slightest
result. ... As a last resource I fired a few more shots,
and we then started downhill, finding no little difficulty
in picking our way owing to the uncertain light and extent
of the tracts of frozen snow. Luckily our pace was slow,
as after proceeding about a couple of hundred yards, a
faint cry some distance to the north was audible, during
one of our halts. After answering, and waiting a few
minutes, the men came up. Both were nearly beat, but
a pull at the Doctor and a few mouthfuls of food soon re-
vived them. We learned that, while holding the two
stations on the line, the poor fellows had been going around
the east side of the hill, cutting their way as best they
could through a frozen snow-drift, till at last it was dis-
covered impossible to proceed farther, and on turning
back they found to their dismay that some fresh snow
had fallen over the tracks previously cut ; consequently,
owing to the mist and gloom, they were in a decidedly
critical position. It was lucky the shouts were heard, as

THE PTARMIGAN 127

weary and benumbed by cold, they were utterly incapable
of reaching shelter even if aware of the line to be followed.
A heavy fall of snow commencing as we at last took leave
of the mountain-top, it is unlikely that any tidings would
have been learned concerning their fate till the snows had
melted from the hills in the following summer."

In their colouring Ptarmigan vary considerably, and
I am inclined to suspect that the rock Ptarmigan — Lagopus
rupestris-— which is generally held to be a distinct species,
and which is reputed to have occurred in Sutherland
and Perthshire, is merely a variation of the normal type.
Lagopus rupestris is more rufous brown in colour than the
common Ptarmigan, but in 1912 I found a hen bird sitting
exceedingly hard on the lower ground of Braeriach, which
in her colouring bore every resemblance to Lagopus rupes-
tris, but which was, I have little doubt, merely a variation
of Lagopus mutus. The total length of Lagopus mutus
is between 14 and 15 inches, the female being about half
an inch shorter than the male, and the birds slightly
smaller than the Red Grouse. The length of wing is 7*6
inches, and the weight 20 ounces.

Distribution. — The Ptarmigan is a bird of extremely
wide distribution, from the high hills of Scandinavia to
the Urals. In North Siberia it is represented by Lagopus
rupestris, which is found as far north as 71 1° N. latitude.
In Iceland a sub-species — Lagopus rupestris islandorum —
is found. The rock Ptarmigan is met with in Greenland,
North America, and North, Central, and Eastern Asia ;
and similar sub-species exist in Newfoundland, Labrador,
Canada, and Alaska. The true Ptarmigan is found in the
rhododendron region of the Alps, in the Pyrenees, Tyrol,
Styria, and Carinthia, and on the Urals above the limit
of the growth of the birch. The eastern range is difficult
to determine. It has been obtained from the Chinese
Altai range at 6000 feet and round Lake Baikal at 9000

128 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

feet. In Japan it has been reported at the 9250 feet
level. It occurs in parts of Russia. It seems to be absent
from the Himalayas and the Andes. Of the Ptarmigan
found in Europe and North America, the Icelandic form
most closely resembles our own native birds. In China,
Alaska, and Arctic America numerous forms are found,
while from the mountains of Newfoundland comes a grey
form, resembling our own. In Spitzbergen a larger form,
Lagopus hypoboreus, occurs, much resembling the Willow
Grouse.

In this country the Ptarmigan is nowadays found no
farther north than Caithness, though it formerly inhabited
the Hoy Hills in Orkney. Early in the nineteenth cen-
tury it still bred in the Galloway Hills in the south of
Scotland, and a shepherd told Sir Herbert Maxwell that
in 1826 he saw a Ptarmigan on the Merrick (2700 feet) in
that district. Recent attempts to reintroduce it there
have been so far unsuccessful. In the seventeenth century
it was written of the Merrick : " In the remote parts of this
great mountain are very large red deer, and about the top
thereof that fine bird called the Mountain Partridge,
or by the commonalty Tarmachan, about the size of a Red
Cock and the flesh much of the same nature ; feeds as
that bird doth on the seeds of the bullrush, and makes its
protection in the chinks and hollow places of thick stones
from the insults of the eagles which are in plenty, both the
large grey and the black, about that mountain." Ben
Lomond is now its southernmost limit. If local rumour
be relied on, a few lived in earlier times in the Lake Dis-
trict, and one, said to have been killed on Skiddaw, was
formerly in a local museum in Keswick. Doubts have,
however, been cast on these statements on account of the
fact that even nowadays a white mottled variety of the
Red Grouse is to be found in that district so resembling
the true Ptarmigan that it has been taken for this bird

THE PTARMIGAN 129

by Scotch keepers. Still I think that, considering that
many of the hills in the district are over 2500 feet in
height, it is extremely probable that Ptarmigan did
actually inhabit them, and that they have shared the
fate of the beautiful and confiding Dotterel which has,
too, been banished from the district.

THE BLACK GROUSE

LYRURUS TETRIX

CoiLEACH-DTJBH (Blttck-cock), Cearc liath (Grey-hen) {Gaelic) ; Coq
DE BRUYkRE (French); Birkiiahn {German).

The Black Grouse is more cosmopolitan in its habits than
the Capercaillie. Almost equally at home on the heather-
clad hillside as among the thick forests of pine, it is found
distributed pretty generally through the country of the
hills. Whereas in the Highlands of Scotland the Black
Grouse prefers the forests of pine and the glens wooded
with birches as its country, on the moorlands of Nor-
thumberland it frequents the open hillsides, the stone
walls which abound in that district being much sought
after as perching stations, and what woods there are being
apparently avoided.

The most interesting feature in the life of the Black
Grouse is the early morning combats which take place day
after day with great regularity between the cocks of the
species. The same fighting-ground is always frequented,
and the combats are engaged in not only during the mating
season, as might be expected, but during nearly the whole
of the year. In fact, a stalker of my acquaintance who has
had great experience of Black-cock, tells me that they fight
most energetically during cold frosty mornings in early
December.

During the months of July and August there is a lull
in the combats, but with the approach of autumn the
" sparring " is recommenced, though in a milder form
than that witnessed later on in the year. The fighting-

130

THE BLACK GROUSE 131

ground of the Black-cock is usually a grass-covered clear-
ance in the forest, but sometimes a young plantation
is used, the young trees being beaten to the ground by
the constant movements of the birds. In such cases,
however, the fighting-ground was probably in existence
before the young trees were planted.

To such fighting-grounds the whole of the Black-cock
population repair with the first light of the dawn, and
immediately commence work. They pace slowly around,
crouching low on the ground with their tails spread out
to their full stretch, and appear to fight indiscriminately
with any member of their species they may happen to
approach. An adversary having been obtained, the
two cocks face each other with heads bent low and then
together fly up perpendicularly into the air, striking at
each other with their feet. In moments of excitement,
just before springing on each other, I have noticed the
Black-cock half open their wings and strike them sharply
against their sides. Such a fight as a rule lasts for only
a few seconds of time, the birds separating and seeking
fresh opponents. Thus fights in deadly earnest are not
often seen, but when such fights are engaged in, one of the
combatants is sometimes left dead on the field.

There seems to be a very great preponderance of male
birds at these fighting grounds, the Grey-hens being out-
numbered ten to one. These hens move about the fight-
ing-ground watching the males with quiet interest, their
presence causing great efforts to be put forth on their
behalf. Sometimes a Grey-hen flies off to the top of a
neighbouring pine, and is a spectator of the battle-ground
from her elevated perch.

Though the Black-cock are apparently concentrated
on their fights, it is no easy matter to approach them, even
through the cover of a wood, for they take alarm at the
least noise or movement and fly off in a body to the neigh-

132 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

bouring forests. Should the cause of their alarm remain
motionless and unseen, they soon return, however, and
immediately they have alighted, fighting is engaged in.
I have noticed that with the rising of the sun the birds
become quieter, and that when the rays fall full on the
fighting-ground, concord is restored between former ad-
versaries. Thus in dark, misty weather sparring is con-
tinued later than when the sky is clear, and those gathering-
grounds in the shelter of steep hills, and so cut off from the
sun, retain the birds for a considerable period after sunrise.
For a short time before dispersing the Black-cock feed,
and, should their differences have not been entirely settled,
they retain their tails spread out fanwise even when satisfy-
ing their morning appetites. There is a certain fighting-
ground bordering the river Dee on its upper reaches where
noticeably fewer Black-cock are seen at the present time as
compared with former years. A stalker who spoke to me
on the subject gave it as his opinion that Capercaillie were
responsible for this decrease ; that they had driven out
the black game. While this sounds somewhat improbable,
a colleague of my informant, on a visit to the ground,
found only a few Black-cock present and several cock
Capercaillie on the scene.

When at the fighting-ground — or " lek " — the Black-
cocks utter a soft cooing note which in the stillness of the
early morning carries an extraordinary distance, and is
sometimes extremely difficult to locate and follow up.
When fighting they are said to crow hoarsely from time to
time. One Black-cock mates with a number of Grey-hens,
but takes no part in the duties of rearing the young. In
fact, he leaves his numerous wives before they have de-
posited their eggs. It is early in May, as a rule, that the
Grey-hen scrapes out a hollow amongst the long heather
carpeting a scattered pine forest, and commences to lay her
handsome eggs. I have remarked that she frequently

THE BLACK GROUSE 133

chooses the vicinity of a road or stalking path for her
nesting site, doubtless with the view to leading her chicks
to ground where they can walk without difficulty. Not in-
frequentlj^ the nest is made under a small pine growing on
the outskirts of a wood and surrounded by long heather.
It is doubtful whether the depression scraped by the
Grey-hen justifies the word " nest " being applied to it. It
may, perhaps, be lined with a few blades of grass or pine
needles, but when these are present they are, I think,
as often as not there by accident.

The eggs number from seven to ten. A description
of those of the Capercaillie applies with equal force to
them, except that they are smaller in size. Incubation
lasts for twenty-four days, and sometimes the mother
bird sits very closely. On one occasion I discovered,
shortly after a severe May snowstorm, the deserted nest
of a Grey-hen containing a solitary egg. I surmised that
the second nest must be somewhere near, and shortly after-
wards found the Grey-hen sitting on her nest in a thick
pine wood. The situation of the nest was an unusual one,
and resembled more a Capercaillie's site than a Grey-hen's.
The nest was placed beneath a fallen pine branch with
no ground vegetation anywhere near, and doubtless the
bird had sought the shelter of the wood on account of
her first unpleasant experience with the snow.

Although incubation had just been commenced she
sat very closely, and I succeeded in approaching her to
within a few feet and exposing a number of plates. Nearly
three weeks afterwards I again visited her nesting site,
expecting that the bird would now sit more closely than
on the first occasion, but I found that this was not the
case.

Another nest in the neighbourhood from which the
young had been hatched contained a couple of eggs which,
on being broken, showed well -formed chicks, and had the

184 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Grey-hen brooded a few hours longer she would have
hatched off her entire clutch. Like the Capercaillie,
however, she seems to be content if she brings off only a
portion of her young, leaving the most backward to perish
in the shell. That she may, notwithstanding, be a good
mother to her young is borne out by an instance which is
reported from Ross-shire, where a Grey-hen, rather than
leave her brood, perished with her young in a big heather
fire. Though the young Black Grouse are able to run
actively about a few hours after they are hatched, they
do not reach maturity till the latter part of September,
so that the opening of black game shooting might be well
postponed for a month or even six weeks — from August
20th to September 30th.

The wing power of the Black Grouse is marked. As
compared with representatives of the Red Grouse, the birds
move their wings more slowly and yet forge ahead more
rapidly. Their flight, too, is noticeably even, and there
is no rocking and swaying as in the case of the Grouse.
Down wind, when once they have got going, they are
capable of travelling at a tremendous speed.

The food of the black game is varied. They feed
greedily on the young shoots of Scots pine and larch, and
are thus serious enemies to afforestation, especially to
pioneer afforestation. The land recently acquired by
the Government at Inverliever for afforestation purposes
is a case in point. Here the black game have caused such
injury to young plantations of Scots pine that the plant-
ing of these trees has had to be discontinued. The larch
plantations have also been greatly damaged, but the larch,
having more powers of recovery than the pine, is not
destroyed so easily. Black Grouse also feed on the buds
of the birch, and are partial to berries of various kinds,
notably the blaeberry {Vaccinium myrtillus). They eat
young heather and blaeberry shoots, also grass seeds, and

H^fT^**

^WiP

Greyhen o\ nest. :uea

Nest oi iiuc (;keviik.\.

THE BLACK GROUSE 135

sometimes insects. They are said to be partial to the
berries of the rowan {Soi'bus ancwparia).

When the crofters' oats are left in the stook, owing to
unfavourable weather conditions, for a prolonged period,
the Black-cocks (not so much the Grey-hens) are frequently
to be seen perched on the stooks devouring the grain.
They are much more wary than the Grouse which are
usually with them, and take flight before the former birds
show any signs of suspicion. It is said that sometimes,
after partaking of sodden grain, in which fermentation is
far advanced, the birds become so intoxicated that they
can scarcely rise from the ground, and that their flight
on such occasions follows a somewhat erratic and devious
course.

The range of the Black Grouse is an extensive one. In
Scandinavia, Russia, Germany, and France it is found
widely distributed. It occurs in Northern and Central
Asia. Unlike the Capercaillie, it has not been reported
from the Pyrenees. In the Caucasus an allied species —
Lyrurus mlokosiewiczi — is found. It is less robust than
our representative, and the male's plumage is entirely
black. As I mentioned earlier in the chapter, the Black
Grouse is met with generally throughout Scotland, but
there are one or two districts where it is not known.
Though present in the Inner Hebrides, it is non-existent
in the Outer Hebridean Islands. Neither is it known in
the Orkneys or Shetlands.

Description : Adult male. — General colour black, the
feathers of the head, neck, lower back, and rump margined
with purplish blue. The outer webs of the outer primary
quills pale brown mottled with white, the basal part of
the innermost primary and secondary quills pure white,
the secondaries being also margined with the same colour.
Axillaries under wing coverts and under tail coverts
pure white. Thighs showing a good many white feathers.

130 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Wattle scarlet. Bill black. Feet brown. Total length,
23-5 inches ; wing, 10'3 inches ; tail, 8'8 inches ; tarsus,
1*9 inches.

During the summer an " eclipse " plumage is assumed,
and the black feathers of the back and sides of the head
and nape, and sometimes those of the upper mantle, are
replaced by a temporary plumage resembling that of the
Grey-hen.

. Female. — Top of the head, neck, and back barred with
red brown and black, also wing coverts, scapulars, and
secondaries. Sides of the head, chin, and throat buff,
spotted with black and rufous, and fringed with white.
Legs almost white. Under tail coverts white or pale
rufous, barred with black and tipped with white. Tail
black with markings of red brown and tipped with white.
Total length, 17 inches ; wing, 8*9 inches ; tail, 4*5 inches ;
tarsus, 1-6 inches. The young when hatched have the
crown chestnut bordered with black, forehead and lores
buff, with a A-shaped patch of black behind the bill.
Two wide stripes of light brown surround the crown, and
there are also present two dark patches behind the eyes
and on the sides of the nape. Wing coverts and rump
chestnut. A black band extends down the back of the
neck. Cheeks and throat light yellow. Old Grey-hens
which have become barren or birds which perhaps were
shot in the ovary at times assume a partial male plumage,
and there is said to be on record the case of a Black-cock
assuming the dress of a Grey-hen.

THE RED GROUSE

LAGOPUS SCOTICUS
Cearc-fhbaoch, Eun fraoich, Eun ruadh (Gaelic).

The one and only bird which Great Britain, and more
especially Scotland, can claim for her very own is the Red
Grouse, and for that reason alone it occupies an interesting
place among our bird population. The ancestry of the
Grouse is not known beyond doubt, but it is supposed
that the bird has its origin from a species— perhaps the
Ptarmigan, more probably the Willow Grouse— which
assumed a winter plumage of white, and that this winter
dress was gradually discarded owing to an absence of
snow during the winter months. If this be indeed the case,
the break-away from the Tarmachan must have occurred
in earliest times, since nowadays, as I have mentioned, the
birds interbreed extremely rarely, if indeed at all.

In the present day, when the tendency amongst
ornithologists would appear to be toward breaking up
birds into as many sub-species as possible, the Grouse,
I venture to suggest, would offer a good field for these
scientific researches. In the case of the male bird at least
three forms— the red form, the black form, and the white
spotted form — are found, while the female, in addition to
showing the three above-mentioned types, produces a
buff-spotted race and a buff -barred race.

It is not too much to say that the Red Grouse has
transformed Scotland during recent times, and I believe
that, at the present day, the grouse moors in the country
north of the Tweed have a value of not less than £1,000,000.

137

138 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

It cannot be gainsaid that in these big areas under Grouse
socialists bring to bear good material for the advancement
of their claims. But a fact generally lost sight of —if indeed
it be known to those who decry grouse moors — is that the
very best grouse ground is that which cannot possibly
be put to any other use. Poor peaty soil in situations
so exposed that it would not support timber, ground
where no sheep could find a living, this is where the
Red Grouse makes a congenial home. And even on
the lower grounds, wherever one finds moors bearing on
them no grass, it may be taken as an accepted fact
that the ground possesses but little value from the agri-
culturist's point of view. Though Grouse are numerous
amongst the peat hags stretching across extensive
plateaux 2500 feet above the sea, they are never seen
on the highest hills. They never indeed exceed, or even
reach, the uppermost limits of the growth of the heather,
and may be said to be entirely absent above the 3000-
foot level.

The birds nesting at or near the 3000-foot line find that
the heather growing at these exposed altitudes affords
but a scant protection to their nests ; they sometimes
brood right out in the open in much the same position
as a hen Ptarmigan chooses for her nest, but notwith-
standing that Grouse and Ptarmigan nest sometimes
within a few yards of each other, the two species keep
noticeably distinct. . . . The Red Grouse is perhaps
the most sedentary of our British birds, and in a sheltered
grouse moor the stock is to be found in more or less the
same situations all the year through.

It is probable, however, that the Grouse nesting towards
the upper limit of their range move down to more sheltered
quarters during severe weather, while a prolonged snow-
storm and hard frost at times drive the whole of the birds
from a high-lying moor. Sometimes, indeed, these birds,

THE RED GROUSE 139

having in their search tor food found more congenial
haunts, do not return to their former home when the snow
disappears, and the moor is greatly depleted of its stock.
On only one occasion have I seen a Grouse on migration.
This was during a severe storm, which descended with no
warning on the high grounds, causing even the hardy
Tarmachan no little privations.

Near the top of a pass was some grouse ground at
about the 2500-foot level, and from this ground I saw a
solitary Grouse winging his way rapidly southward, pro-
gressing in a manner which showed that a short flight
only was not his aim. It is rare that Grouse frequent
the coast-line during migration, but still they have from
time to time been recorded at light-stations.

Towards the east coast the country is not, as a rule,
favourable to Lagopus scoticus, but there is a certain moor
with which I am familiar which must, I think, occupy an
almost unique position in that it actually touches the
North Sea. The moor is a small one, and is surrounded
by fertile agricultural land. In summer the situation is
favourable enough, but in winter there is an absence of
shelter, and wild winds from the sea sweep over the moor,
carrying with them driving mist and rain. Here the
Grouse have unusual companions to share their nesting-
ground. The confiding Eider Duck leads forth her duck-
lings on the moor, the Stock Dove and the Shell Duck
make their nests down the rabbit burrows which every-
where undermine the ground. A colony of Black-headed
Gulls, too, nest at the moorside, making periodic egg-
plundering excursions, while amongst the sand-dunes
thousands of Common Terns and a few of that most swallow-
like of the sea-bird tribe, the Lesser Tern, make their
homes during the months of summer. The best Grouse
country lies undoubtedly towards the centre of Scotland ;
as one approaches the Atlantic the proportion of heather

140 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

on the hills decreases, and its place is taken by various
grasses which are not so favourable to the Red Bird.

During fine still days of early January it is interesting
to lie concealed on some sunny hill face of a low-lying moor
and to watch the mating of the Grouse. One hears on
every side the deep guttural calls of the cocks as they
" display " before the lady of their choice. Often they
rise almost perpendicularly into the air, descending on to
some boulder or knoll with loud cries. They are some-
times easy to approach, and even when disturbed are
reluctant to take flight. The pairing of the Grouse
takes place at such an early date that one or more
snowstorms invariably cause the mated birds to reform
into packs, but it may possibly be the case that even
under such conditions the birds remain paired. The
nesting season of the Grouse varies considerably, accord-
ing as to whether the moor is low-lying or exposed. On
the most favourable ground the birds commence to lay
before March is out — if the season has been an early one —
and between the 2000 and the 3000-foot levels fresh eggs
of the first nesting may be found up to the second week
in June.

In 1913 I knew of a bird that was just hatching out
her brood as late as 13th July. It is indeed a very ques-
tionable benefit for high-nesting Grouse that an early
spring should be experienced, for unusual mildness causes
them to lay before the risk of damage by snow is past.
To take an example : The month of April 1914 brought
some of the finest weather conditions that have been
experienced for many years, and certain of the Grouse on
the high moors were a full month earlier than usual in
nesting. But May saw a great change, and before a north-
easterly wind snow was drifted heavily and fiercely across
the hill-tops into their southern corries. After the storm
a depth of fully three feet of closely-packed snow covered

THE RED GROUSE 141

these hill slopes, causing nearly every Grouse which had
commenced to brood to forsake its nest. Under such
circumstances the majority of the birds produce a second
clutch of eggs at a later date, only the broods reared from
these second hatchings rarely exceed five in number.

But hen Grouse often remain bravely on their nests
during the heaviest falls of snow, and may become as-
phyxiated by the absence of air beneath the closely-packed
layer which envelops them. After a certain May storm
a keeper on a high-lying grouse moor came across no fewer
than nine Grouse dead on their nests during the course of
a single morning's walk. That a hen Grouse remembers
her nest, even when it is inaccessible to her for several days
on account of the snow which covers it, is borne out by
an instance which came to my knowledge of such a bird
returning to her nest after a week's storm and then suc-
ceeding in hatching off her eggs — which, it goes without
saying, she had not commenced to brood upon when the
storm commenced.

The following interesting account has been given
me by a well-known sportsman and naturalist. A hen
Grouse had her nest on a steep hill face near his shoot-
ing lodge, and through a powerful glass the hen could
be seen covering her eggs, which were eight in number.
One day, on looking at the nest, my informant could see
that the eggs had become displaced, and that the bird
was attempting to pull them back uphill into the nest,
using her chin as a lever. He thereupon climbed the hill
face, to find every one of the eggs outside the nest and
the bird brooding where the eggs had formerly reposed.
Many deer-tracks led across the hill, and, in all probability,
the bird had been disturbed hurriedly and had scattered
her clutch on her precipitate departure. The eggs were
now replaced and the nest built up on the downhill side.
A week later, about nine o'clock in the morning, it was

142 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

again noticed that two of the eggs had been in some way
displaced. At two o'clock the same afternoon the nest
was revisited and the eggs replaced after an absence from
the nest of certainly five hours, probably longer. Notwith-
standing the various vicissitudes which her future family
had undergone, the eggs hatched off safely in due course.
The nest of the Grouse is always of the most primitive
description, and is generally devoid of even a rudimentary
lining. It is usually found amongst long heather or in
the shelter of a tussock of grass. It is curious that wet
and boggy ground is often chosen — perhaps the fox does
not do so much of his hunting here — and I have on more
than one occasion found the nest in rushes. Once I heard
of a Grouse having her nest and hatching off her eggs on an
island on a Highland loch. Although it has been stated that
a hen Grouse will readily forsake her nest before she has
commenced to brood, I do not think that thitS is the case,
and certainly once she has begun to sit she is devoted to
her eggs. A friend of mine tells me that his retriever on
one occasion pulled several of the feathers out of the tail
of a sitting bird without causing her to forsake her nest,
and that in the course of his long experience he has only
once known of a Grouse deserting her eggs, the occasion
being when the bird was caught on the nest and carried
some distance in his dog's mouth. A hen Grouse usually
sits closely, though she does not equal the Ptarmigan in
this respect, and rarely permits of a photograph of her
being taken at close quarters. When disturbed she
rises with much fluttering of wings and dashes out of
sight, flying at great speed. She never, so far as my
experience goes, returns to watch what fate befalls her
eggs, nor does the cock join her in mid-air. It would
thus seem as though she were lacking in courage or confid-
ence as compared with the Tarmachan, for the latter
bird as often as not refuses to move any distance from her

THE RED GROUSE 143

nest, and it is the almost invariable rule that immediately
she rises the cock, who has been anxiously watching
events, dashes down and joins his mate in her flight.

The eggs laid by a Grouse vary considerably in number.
An average clutch consists of from six to nine, but I have
seen as many as eleven — and that, too, on high ground —
and during the present season (1914) I hear of a Grouse
sitting on no fewer than fifteen eggs. It is a most difficult
thing to distinguish a Grouse's egg from that of a Ptarmi-
gan— I doubt, indeed, whether it is possible in some cases
— but, if anything, those laid by the Grouse are slightly
the larger of the two. The ground colour is pale brown,
and the egg is plentifully marked with dark brown or rich
red-brown spots and blotches. Sometimes, when the
egg has just been laid, the colouring is remarkably beauti-
ful. At times a Grouse will produce amongst her clutch
a dwarf egg. On one occasion I found such an egg scarcely
larger than that of a Blackbird, and a stalker came across
a nest containing an exceptionally large double-yolked
egg and also a dwarf egg. Considering how cleverly
concealed the nest of a Grouse usually is, it is surprising
how easily a pair of Hoodies discover its whereabouts.
Stoats, too, devour many of the eggs, and the Black-headed
Gull also has recently acquired an unenviable reputation
in this respect.

A great deal of discussion and uncertainty has existed
as to what degree of frost a Grouse's egg will stand, but
no definite investigations have up to the present been
conducted on the subject, so far as I am aware. It is
undoubtedly the case, however, that during the period
when a Grouse is laying a reading of five or six degrees
of frost occurs frequently during the hours of darkness,
and yet the eggs suffer no injury. A few hours after
hatching the young Grouse are full of life and activity.
Should the weather be warm and bright at the time, the

144 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

mother Grouse does not brood on them, contenting herself
with watching them closely till the dipping of the sun
on the horizon. In cold weather she broods them almost
as closely as she did her eggs, for the chicks are very sus-
ceptible to a keen wind, and commence to shiver violently
and to seek out any shelter there is handy witliin a few
minutes of their mother leaving them. Grouse with
young vary greatly in their behaviour when disturbed.
The cock is usually near the hen, and both birds may fly
off so unconcernedly that they might well have no children
in danger. More often, however, the cock Grouse flies
right away, while his mate flops and flounders over the
heather in her attempt to decoy the intruder from the
whereabouts of her family. Sometimes I have found it
possible to call her up almost to my feet by imitating the
alarm cry of a young Grouse in distress, but this ruse is
not usually so successful as it is with the Ptarmigan.

The rate of growth of a young Grouse is rapid, es-
pecially if the weather be favourable. On the third day
the primaries and secondaries commence to appear, and
by the ninth are well developed. During the first weeks
of their lives the young birds feed on insects — flies, beetles,
caterpillars — later they eat heather shoots and the tender
stems and leaves of the blaeberry {Vaccinium myrtillus).
I have seen young birds strong on the wing on June 6th,
at a date when some of the Grouse on the higher beats
had scarcely commenced to brood. During their youth
Grouse at times suffer severely from the attacks of a
minute unicellular organism, by name Eimeria avium.
This parasite is unintentionally picked up by the bird with
its food or water, and destroys the intestines of its host.
As this illness, or coccidiosis, as it is termed, is highly
infectious, it is important that the dead chicks be burnt
whenever possible. Coccidiosis, it must be borne in mind,
is a malady totally distinct from the so-called Grouse

THE RED GROUSE 145

disease. The latter scourge has been traced, thanks to
the exertions of the Grouse Disease Committee, to a
minute thread-worm, to which the imposing name of
Trichostrongylus pergracilis has been assigned. This
minute thread or round worm— the male is ^ to ^ inch,
the female | to I an inch in length — is not confined to
sickly Grouse alone, and the point should, I think, be
emphasized that practically every Grouse on every
moor harbours the parasites in larger or fewer numbers.
The thread-worms take up their stations among the
young leaves and flowers of the heather, where they
remain till swallowed by the bird with its food, and
when present in large numbers, set up acute appen-
dicitis in their victim. It is only, however, when the
Grouse on a moor become enfeebled either by injudicious
burning of the ground, overstocking of the moor, or by
an absence of food consequent upon a more than usually
severe winter, that the attacks of the Nematodes are
sufficiently virulent to affect the health of the birds.
Since it has been discovered that the larval forms of
Trichostrongylus are most prevalent on the young "food "
heather, it is important that the moor should hold as much
of this heather as possible, so as to give to the birds
extensive feeding ground. A few words as to the heather-
burning on a moor may not be out of place. The Grouse
Committee are of opinion that the great majority of
moors are insufficiently burnt. On most of the moors
the rotation for heather-burning is not less than fifty
years, which means that the amount of heather is only
eighteen per cent, of the total area. In their opinion
the burning of the moor on a fifteen-year rotation should
be practised, for then no less than sixty per cent, of
the ground would consist of heather affording good
feeding for the birds. Also, when heather under the age
of twenty years is burnt, the new crop usually springs from

146 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the root the following season, whereas old heather is
not replaced for half a dozen years — in some cases a
much longer period — for the whole of the regeneration
must come from seed. Unfortunately, the heather-burn-
ing season is all too short. Unless special notice has
been lodged with the sheriff of the county, the legal close
of fire-raising on a moor is on 10th April, though the
extension permits of burning up to the 25th. There is
always a risk of destroying a certain number of eggs dur-
ing late burning. It is thus permissible to suggest that
more advantage be taken of the opportunities afforded
of autumn burning. It is legal to light a fire any day
after 1st November, and there are days in late autumn
when the heather will burn cleanly and without difficulty.
On a carefully-burnt moor no heather more than twelve
inches in height should be found. It is also important
to burn any long heather growing on the banks of burns
and near springs, so as to enable the young Grouse to
have access to water without difficulty.

The weight of a Grouse in perfect health and condition
varies considerably. The average weight of the males
may be put at one and a half pounds, the females being
a few ounces lighter. The heaviest birds are said to come
from Caithness and from the South of Ireland : one from
the latter district turned the scales at no less than two
and a half pounds.

Concerning the origin of the word " Grouse " little
is known. As far back as 1531 the name is found men-
tioned, with the spelling " Grows " : the word in its
present form — Grouse — being met with in 1G03. In 1678
the naturalist Willughby calls the bird the " Gor-
cock " and the "Red Game." The Scottish naturalist,
MacGillivray, sometimes speaks of the Grouse as the Red
Ptarmigan.

The enemies of the Grouse are varied. The Eagle

THE RED GROUSE 147

and Peregrine take their toll ; the hill fox poiinees upon
the birds as they brood, and often one finds the hole where
Reynard has temporarily deposited his victim. Great
damage is done by the stealthy stoat, which has a special
liking for the eggs of this moorland bird. An interesting
case is on record of a Grouse having been captured and
killed by an otter.

To all who know the moors the call note of the Red
Grouse is familiar. A Gaelic tradition has it that when he
rises excited from the heather at your feet, the cock cries
out, " Co, CO, CO, mo chlaidh, mo chlaidh," which may
be interpreted as " Who goes there ? My sword, my
sword." The call of the hen is a nasal " yow, yow, yow."
It is comparatively seldom heard, however, and seems
to be uttered chiefly during the quiet of the early morn-
ing when a hen Grouse with her brood suspects the presence
of danger.

The Grouse, as is natural with so hardy a bird, is not
too particular as to its food. At all seasons of the year
they feed on the young shoots of the ling [Calluna vulgaris),
and are partial to the shoots of the blaeberry. They feed
on the crowberry {Empetrum nigrum), on the bell heather
{Erica cinerea), on the cotton grass {Eriophorum), and on
the bedstraw {Galium saxatile).

During the months of autumn they are partial to the
berries of the blaeberry, to the bearberry {Arctostaphylos),
to the two cranberries {Vaccinium vitis idcea and Vac-
cininium occy coccus), and to the averine or cloudberry
{Rubus chnmcemorus). They eat the blossoms of the
heather, also its seeds. Insects are taken as well.

The winter's frost and snow acts as a preservative to
the various berries on the higher moors, and Grouse have
access to them at times till well past the New Year.

Unlike the Willow Grouse or Ptarmigan, the Red
Grouse has only two moults during the year. It is

148 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

also a curious fact that the cock Grouse has no moult
before the nesting season ; it breeds in the plumage
it has assumed at the beginning of the winter. The
hen, on the other hand, has a complete summer dress
before she commences incubation. It has been sug-
gested by a well-known investigator that the moult,
in the case of the male bird, has been postponed
from spring to summer as a result of the attacks of
the strongylus worm. After the winter the Grouse are
always a more ready prey to disease, and it is possible
that the attacks of the parasite and the strain on the
cocks during the season of pairing and nesting has
necessitated the postponement of the moult till the com-
mencement of June.

There are so many types of Grouse in existence in
these Islands that a precise description of their plumage
is impossible. Sometimes on the high grounds birds are
found with several of the flight feathers white, and this
may well be a " throw back " or atavism to the time
w^hen the Grouse was plumaged in white during the
winter, and when the flight feathers were white through-
out the year. The feet and cheeks of high-nesting Grouse,
too, are often white. The young, when first hatched,
have the crown dark brown, bordered wuth a still darker
colour, which extends in a line across the forehead to
the base of the bill, and in a wide band down the back
of the neck. The upper parts are prettily mottled with
several shades of colour. The cheeks and throat are of
pale yellow.

The Red Grouse occasionally crosses with the Black
Grouse, and handsome hybrids result. As I mentioned
earlier, apparent hybrids between Grouse and Ptarmigan
have been obtained, but they have never been entirely
above suspicion.

Though the Grouse is a bird peculiar to Great Britain,

THE RED GROUSE 149

it has been introduced, and is now thriving, on a high tract
of moorland between Belgium and Germany.

On the Shetlands it was set down as an experiment in
1858. The birds lingered till 1872, but the district was
for some reason unfavourable, and they became extinct
about the latter date.

THE CAPERCAILLIE

TETRAO UROGALLUS

Capull-coillb (Gaelic) ; Auerhahn [German) ; Gludar (Russian).

Concerning the derivation of the Gaelic word Capercaillie
not a little doubt exists. By some it is suggested that the
word should read Cabharcoille, which would signify, " The
Old Bird of the Woods." Others say that the word may
be derived from Gabharcoillc, " The Goat of the Woods,"
in allusion to the long feathers on the throat of the male.
I am inclined to believe that the latter interpretation is
the more likely of the two. The history of the Capercaillie
in Scotland is an interesting one. In former times, when
the great Caledonian forest covered hundreds of thousands
of acres, the bird was found through a wide extent of the
country, but owing to various causes — chiefly, I believe,
to the destruction of the ancient woodlands — had become
extinct by the second half of the eighteenth century.
In 1827 a numljcr of Capercaillie were brought across
from Sweden, and were liberated at Mar Lodge, on the
upper reaches of the Dee. This attempt at introduction
was a failure, however, but a second effort, made ten years
later at Taymouth, was entirely successful. From Perth-
shire the Capercaillie has spread over a large extent of
Scotland. In Aberdeenshire it is numerous in localities
favourable to its habits, and is found also in the counties
of Elgin, Nairn, Inverness, Ross and Cromarty.

The favourite haunt of the Capercaillie is a forest of
Scots pines aged from eighty to a hundred years. Trees
of this advanced age are, I think, preferred to younger

THE CAPERCAILLIE 151

plantations, probably because there is an absence of under-
growth which would impede the birds in their movements.
I have never seen them in a birch wood.

The nest of the Capercaillie is placed on the ground at
the foot of a tree, often a tree which has grown in a curve,
and which thus protects the sitting hen from the wet,
being preferred. The eggs usually number from six to
nine, but as many as twelve have been found. During
the period of laying the hen bird covers them roughly
with pine needles on her departure from the nest. In
colour they are of a pale brownish buff ground colour,
spotted lightly with reddish brown. They resemble
those of the Grey-hen, but are more handsome in appear-
ance and of larger size. An average measurement is
2"2 by 1*6 inches. Sometimes two hens share the same
nest. The Capercaillie is a somewhat late nester, and the
majority are still brooding on eggs during the first weeks
in June. The period of incubation is just over four weeks.
At times a hen Capercaillie will brood so closely that one
can approach to within a few feet without causing her
to leave the nest. She cannot, however, be said to be
a good mother, and seems to be contented if only a few
of her young follow her from the nest. It is probable,
however, that individual birds vary greatly in their affec-
tion for their young, for I knew of one instance when, on
a brood of young Capers being disturbed, the mother bird
flew up and endeavoured to beat off the human intruder.

When disturbed on her nest, the departure of the hen
Capercaillie is a precipitate one, and she often carries with
her one or more of the eggs. These remain where they
have fallen, perhaps only an inch outside the nest, for the
bird, as far as my experience goes, makes no attempt
to replace them. Stoats remove the eggs from the nest,
and I have more than once seen a deserted nest with the
sucked eggs l}dng around. On one occasion some mys-

152 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

terious marauder gradually removed all the eggs from a
nest, in S])ite of the fact that the bird was in possession.

It would indeed seem that in all birds which arc poly-
gamous in their habits the parental instinct is not so firmly
planted as in those which remain constant to one mate
throughout the nesting season. During the pairing season
the Capercaillies hold a kind of " Lek " or courting at
break of day, and again, but less frequently, in the even-
ing. A male bird takes up his station on one of the upper
branches of a pine, and by his display attracts a number of
hens to the vicinity. The song of the male Capercaillie
commences with a number of clucking cries, repeated at
intervals of a second or two, then comes a cry which may
be compared to the drawing of the cork from a bottle, and
finally a " swishing " note. It is during this last effort
that the singer closes his eyes, shakes his head, and is
forgetful of everything, save his own display, for the
time being. Should a rival cock appear on the scene at
such a time, a fierce combat ensues until the vanquished
is either driven from the scene or is left dead on the battle-
field.

In most European countries the Capercaillie is stalked
during his " display," and the sport is full of incident and
calls for a considerable amount of skill and wariness.
The stalker makes his way into the heart of the forest
before dawn, armed, perhajis, with a lantern, and, having
discovered a spot frequented by the birds, he extinguishes
his light and sits himself down to await events. As the
first streaks of dawn become visible in the east, the cluck-
ing calls of a Capercaillie are heard proceeding from a tree
near, and the stalk is commenced. It is a slow business,
as forward progress is possible only when the bird is
engaged in uttering the last part of his love song, and even
then there is time only for an advance of three or four
paces. During the intervals between their singing the

fee -

'V ^

Nest of the Capekcaili.ie.

THE CAPERCAILLIE 153

Capercaillies are always on the alert, and the snapping
of even a small twig will send them from their perch in
precipitate flight. Long before sunrise the Capercaillies
are silent once more, and then the loud clear notes of the
Missel Thrush break the early morning stillness. These
daybreak scenes in the big forests have an especial charm
to the nature-lover. Gradually the sun rises and throws
soft rosy rays on the western hills, lighting up the pines
in their corries and tinging their lingering snowfields
with its beams.

For a bird so large and heavy — the male bird weighs
twelve pounds — the flight of the Capercaillie is certainly
skilful. They are able to speed through a thick wood
at a speed approaching a mile a minute, and yet
can avoid trees and branches of trees with sudden and
masterly swerves. It is said that after a period of wet
and stormy weather their plumage becomes saturated
to such an extent that they are unable to rise from the
ground. Sometimes in autumn Capercaillie leave the
shelter of their forests and pay visits to the cornfields
near, to feed on the grain. The damage done by them,
however, is insignificant compared to that worked by the
Black-cock. Though usually a shy and retiring bird, an
instance is on record of a cock Capercaillie attacking with
great fierceness any person venturing to pass through that
part of the forest where he dwelt. The usual food of
the Capercaillie consists of pine needles, young and tender
shoots being taken. The damage caused by them in
older woods is slight, but in young plantations of pine and
larch they destroy the leaders of the trees. They feed
on insects and their larvae, and in autumn eat various
wild fruits. It is said that the hens, with their young
broods, consume large numbers of pupae of the ant. It has
certainly been my experience that favourite nesting sites
of the Capercaillie are usually plentiful in ant-heaps — some

154 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of great size and several feet in height — and I have seen
these mounds scattered about, in all probability by Caper-
caillies. During dry weather the birds are fond of re-
sorting to the stalking paths and roads intersecting a
forest for the purpose of indulging in dust-baths. On
account of their pine diet the flesh of the Capercaillie
is bitter and resinous, but young birds of the year are
sometimes eaten.

So early as 1617 the Capercaillie would seem to have
been scarce in Scotland. In a letter written by James VI
to Lord Tullibardine, the king mentions that " the rarity
of these fowles will make their estimation the more pre-
tious."

Outside Scotland the range of the Capercaillie is a
wide one. It is numerous in the pine forests of Russia
and Germany, where the stalking of the birds during the
pairing season provides good sport. In Scandinavia it
is found as far north as latitude 70 degrees. Eastward
it is met with as far as Lake Baikal. It nests in the
Pyrenees, Alps, Carpathians, and the Altai Mountains.
In the Ural Mountains an allied form, Tetrus uralensis,
takes its place. This sub-species is noticeably paler than
our own form.

Other sub-species are found in North-East Siberia
and Kamschatka.

Description : Male. — Head and neck dark grey,
mottled with black. Throat with greenish tinge. Mantle,
lower back, and rump black, with white lines appearing
at intervals. Inter-scapular region marked with reddish-
brown. Wing coverts brown, spotted with black. Quills
and primary coverts dark brown. Chest glossy green,
merging to black on the breast and abdomen, some of
the feathers being white-tipped. Thighs white. Leg
feathers dark bro^vn. Tail black, with white band across
the terminal half of the feathers. Axillaries and under

THE CAPERCAILLIE 155

wing coverts white. Bill yellow. Feet dark grey.
Wattle scarlet. Length, 35 inches; wing, l-t-G inches;
tail, 12-3 inches ; tarsus, 2*8 inches.

Female. — Head, neck, and upper parts, wing coverts
and secondaries black, barred with reddish-brown and
tipped with white except on the back. Primaries dark
brown. Throat, fore-neck, and under parts rufous buff.
Tail brown, barred with black and tipped with white.
Axillaries and under wing coverts white marked with
brown and "black. Bill brownish. Feet grey brown.
Total length about 25 inches ; wing, 11-7 inches ; tail, 7-3
inches ; tarsus, 2*1 inches.

Barren females not infrequently assume male plumage.
The young when hatched have the top of the head buff,
mottled with black, and with a dark V-shaped mark on
the forehead. A black band is found behind the eyes,
and extends to the sides of the neck. Nape, wing coverts,
and rump fawn colour. Back mottled with grey-brown.
Throat light yellow.

THE WOODCOCK

SCO LOP AX RUSTICOLA

COILEACH-COILLE, CROM-NAN-DXJILLEAG CREuTHAR (Gaelic) ; Bl^CASSB

{French) ; Waldschneppe {German). Local names : — Muff cock,

MUCKLE SNIPPACK.

To those who know the wooded glens of the Highlands
during the months of April and ]May the Woodcock compels
attention from its curious and distinctive habit of emerg-
ing from the obscurity in which it has hidden itself during
the day and flying over the tree-tops with rapid, trembling
wing-beats. To this behaviour the Scandinavians have
given the term " Roding," and, as in our own language
there is, so far as I am aware, no distinctive name in use, I
think it may be as well to keep to it throughout this chapter.
Immediately after sunset the entire male Woodcock
population leave their secluded haunts and fly backwards
and forwards over the same line of country, uttering a
peculiar cry, unheard except during the season of nesting.
The notes may be termed the song of the males, and are
uttered by the birds previous to their departure for their
feeding-grounds in the evening. The song commences
with grunting cries, ending up with a sharp and penetrat-
ing note repeated, maybe several times in quick succes-
sion, "pisick, pisick." At times two cock birds during
their aerial manoeuvres cross one another's path, and then
ensues a stern chase over the tree-tops, the birds uttering
repeatedly their chirping cries. Tlie " roding " of the
Woodcock never takes place before the sun has set during
the earlier part of spring, but at a more advanced period
— m May — the birds commence their evening flights

THE WOODCOCK 157

rather earlier. The flighting is continued till deep twilight
has settled over the glen, but ceases before night. In the
morning I, personally, have never heard this " roding,"
but it is said to be recommenced before daybreak, and
to cease previous to full daylight. The Woodcock when
roding does not fly repeatedly over the same part of the
wood ; there is an interval between each of its appearances.
It is said to pass over the same country three times in
the course of the evening. On the first visit it flies high and
usually fast ; on the second, its progress is lower and more
leisurely, while on the third and last the bird moves just
above the trees. This habit of the Woodcock is an unfor-
tunate one, did the bird but know it, for on the Continent
— in France, Germany, and other countries — sportsmen go
out just before sunset and conceal themselves on the
ground over which the Woodcock are in the habit of
roding. In Scandinavia large numbers are shot in this
way ; in Sweden the line of country traversed by them
is known as the " drag " or " strack." In Germany and in
Scandinavia the Woodcock are supposed to make their
first appearance on the third Sunday in Lent, which is
called Woodcock Sunday. An old sporting rhyme fixes
the arrival and the departure of the birds as follows :

" Oculi da kommen sie
Lactare, das hahre
Judica, sind sie auch noch da.
Palmarum, trallarum."

With Palm Sunday the migration ceases.

The well-known sportsman, St. John, writing more
than half a century ago, gave it as his opinion that the
Woodcock was the first of all Highland birds to commence
nesting. Though this is scarcely correct — the Raven is
brooding before February is out, and the Heron a few
days later — the Woodcock is undoubtedly one of the
earliest birds to breed. By the third week in March the

158 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

earlier individuals are brooding, and by the first week
in April nesting is general. The nesting ground is usually
a wood, deciduous trees being, I think, preferred, owing
to the soft layer of fallen leaves covering the ground. Close-
grown plantations are rarely chosen as nesting sites, and
small belts of birch and oak are favourite nesting grounds,
provided that there is plenty of space between the trees.
It is my experience that the birds dislike dense cover in
which to nest ; a few broken-down bracken offer a suitable
position, or the bird may scrape out a hollow amongst
the deep layers of fallen beech and oak leaves which
cover the ground beneath these trees. The eggs usually
number four, but at times only three are found. Their
ground colour is normally buff coloured, and they are
liberally spotted and blotched by dark reddish-brown
markings. Nothing more primitive than the nest of the
Woodcock can be found in the bird world. It is merely
a slight hollow scraped in the ground and generally with-
out intentional lining of any kind. The mother Woodcock
often sits very hard on her eggs, especially if incubation
be far advanced, for she relies on the close harmonisation
of her plumage with her surroundings. Sometimes I have
been able to approach to within a few feet of such a bird,
and by not the slightest movement did she betray that she
was alive. As the result of her early nesting, the Wood-
cock has sometimes to cover her eggs when snow lies
around to a considerable depth.

The young, as is the case with " waders " generally,
are able to move about a short time after hatching.
They are buff in colour, with a reddish chocolate median
band extending along the back to the crown, where it
branches and runs forward over the eyes.

Although such an early nester, I have seen eggs of the
Woodcock as late as the third week in July, which seems
to point to the fact that in certain instances two broods

THE WOODCOCK 159

are reared in the course of a season. It is worth noting
that prior to the nineteenth century no case of Woodcock
nesting in Britain was recorded. It is unlikely that the
birds have changed their habits since then ; more probably
an increased interest in nature study has revealed their
presence in localities where they formerly nested in ob-
scurity. The Woodcock is remarkable amongst birds in
that it carries its young considerable distances in order
to remove them from a danger zone. If a bird be dis-
turbed suddenly with her brood around her, she sometimes
snatches up the chick which happens to be nearest to her
and carries it off, holding it apparently between her legs.
On a certain occasion a stalker surprised such a bird on
the bank of a river, and, picking up one of her brood, she
bore it over to the farther side, to return, presumably,
with her travelled child after the danger had passed.
This remarkable habit of the Woodcock is one which
has been noted by so many and accurate observers that
it is somewhat surprising it is still regarded with scepticism
by certain ornithologists. Such, nevertheless is the case,
and every time the statement appears in print a sheaf of
letters are forthcoming from those who seek to cast doubts
on the narrative of the observer who witnessed the event.
On the other hand, certain writers of repute indeed go so
far as to assert that the young Woodcock are carried to
the feeding-grounds by their parents nightly.

During its flight the bill of the Woodcock is pointed
downwards, and the wings are not extended to their full
stretch. It seldom makes sustained flights, however,
except on migration. During a shoot at Alnwick a Wood-
cock was seen to alight on the ground and then to throw
leaves over its back, presumably to hide itself from the
guns. If so, it would seem that the Woodcock is one of
the most sagacious of birds. It feeds mainly by night on
wet, boggy ground, and eats an enormous quantity of

100 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

worms ; indeed, it may swallow almost its own weight of
food in the course of a single day. When the blaeberries
have ripened, the Woodcock betake themselves to the
hillsides and consume great quantities of the fruit. At
the present time Woodcock are plentiful in Scotland during
the months of spring and summer, and even south of the
Border nest in many suitable localities. It is probable
that the birds nesting in these Islands do not remain with
us through the winter, and that their place is taken by
migrants from the north. During the winter the Mediter-
ranean basin is the resort of great numbers of Woodcock.
These quarters it reaches in early November, and leaves
as soon as February, passing through Germany and the
British Isles in March or early in April. The return
migration takes place mainly in October. Many of the
birds cross the North Sea and arrive along the eastern
Scottish coasts. They remain here only a short time,
and continue their flight westward. Some halt on the
western seaboard of Scotland, others continue their way
into Ireland, where they remain through the winter. The
principal summer home of the Woodcock is the northern
portion of the Old World, for it is found extending from
Eastern Siberia to the western extremity of Europe.
The Woodcock nesting in Kamschatka migrate to Japan
with the advent of the cold weather, those frequenting
Mongolia to China, while those which have nested in
Western Siberia and on the plateau of Thibet move down
to Burmah, India, Afghanistan, and Persia. Our own
winter visitors are those birds which have bred in Scandi-
navia, Finland, and perhaps Russia. Those which press
on south past our Islands arrive in Palestine, in North
Africa, and in Egypt. Throughout Russia the Woodcock
is found nesting, extending, though in diminished numbers,
as far south as the Caucasus and the Crimea. It also
breeds in Central France and in Northern Italy. Some

THE WOODCOCK 161

of its most distant nesting grounds arc in Kashmir and
Japan, while it has been found breeding in the Himalayas
at the height of 10,000 feet. In the Faroe Islands it has
occurred as a passing visitor, and has also been recorded
from Spitzbergen.

Description. — The sexes resemble each other, and there
is no marked nesting plumage. Forehead and crown
bro^^^^ish grey. Back of head crossed by four bars of
dark brown, divided by bands of buff. Lores marked by
narrow band of dark brown, and a band is also below
the eyes. Back of the neck brownish grey, with black
sides. Throat white, bounded by a brown and black
band. Wings and wing coverts chestnut, barred
conspicuously with black. Lowermost rows of minor
coverts, median and major coverts tipped with buff,
forming distinct transverse bars. Major coverts and
secondaries crossed by broad bands of black. Primaries
dark grey with white tips. Rump and tail coverts chest-
nut, barred with black. Tail feathers black, tipped
above with silver grey and below with white. Breast
and abdomen light brown, barred with narrow lines,
under tail coverts brown with markings of black. The
mature young cannot be distinguished from its parents.

THE SNIPE

SCOLOPAX OALLINAOO

Gaelic names : — Butagochd, Meannan-adhair, Exjn-ghabhhao, Gabhar-
ADHAIR, Croman LdiN ; Bl!;CASSiNE ORDINAIRE {French ) ; MOOR-
SCHNEPPE {Oerman). Local names : — IMooR or Mire Snipe, Heather
Bleater, Full Snipe, Single Snipe, Snippack, Gowk, Hoube
Gowk.

To this small wader are assigned in the Gaelic language
a number of imposing names : Meannan-adhair signifies
the " Small kid of the air," and a somewhat similar mean-
ing lies in Gahhar-adhair. Croman loin, again, has refer-
ence to the peculiar flight of the Snipe, for it may be
translated as the " Small crooked creature of the marsh."
The most interesting point in the natural history of
the Snipe is its peculiar, one might almost say unique,
habit of " drumming " during the nesting season. Both
sexes are said to indulge in this " drumming," but, person-
ally, I think that the cock is the more regular and profi-
cient performer, and that his evolutions are for the benefit
of his mate, resembling in this respect the spring song of
the Lapwing, or the slow soaring flight of the Golden
Plover. For long the precise location of this bleating
sound remained undecided — even at the present day all
naturalists are not agreed on the matter — but it is gene-
rally conceded that it has its origin from the rush of
wind acting on the stiff external tail feathers as the bird
descends rapidly. Formerly it was believed that the
wings of the bird produced the curious sound, and Mac-
Gillivary puts forward the statement that " from the
rapid beats of his wing the tremulous air gives to the ear

THE SNIPE 163

what at first seems the voice of distant thunder." It
is only during the spring and early summer months that
the Snipe drums, and one rarely hears him before April.
On still evenings of early summer it is good to wander
into the country of the Heather Blcater, and listen to the
birds as they wing their way backward and forward over-
head above a favourite nesting site of theirs. But one
rarely hears them during the hours of sunshine and heat :
one must needs go down to their bog toward sunset. On
one occasion I made my way down the river banks as the
sun was low in the west, to a certain stretch of marsh
land where Snipe are always to be found. From a field
of tussocky grass several Redshank sprang on my ap-
proach, crossing the river with excited whistlings, but as
yet, the season was too young to find their eggs. Many
Lapwings, too, were near the river, and a Heron, interrupted
in his fishing, made his way clumsily to a more secluded
spot. As I reached the big marsh the air was quiet, but
gradually, as the mists rolled in from the coast and the
sun became dim and fiery red in colour, there rose from
the bog, not one, but several Snipe. At top speed they
dashed backwards and forwards with rapid wing-beats.
Every now and again a bird would descend slantingly
earthwards, turning rather over on his side and producing
the characteristic bleating sound. After a couple of
seconds or so the bird checked his dipping, and at once
the sound ceased. Anything more rapid than the wing-
beats of a Snipe during this characteristic flight cannot
be imagined, and after a time the birds, one after the
other, dipped down into the rushes at express speed.
One particular individual I noted possessing a " bleat "
unlike his fellows. The key was abnormall>^ low, and the
bird, too, appeared to be larger than average size. Many
Curlews crossed over the country of the Snipe as I lay
there, their trilling whistles echoing across the glen, and

164 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Blackcock, flying down to a fighting ground near, added
tlieir low crooning notes.

At sunrise I again visited the bog. On the higher
ground the air was clear, but the course of the river was
marked by a dense mist-cloud, and as I entered this the
air was damp, and objects even a few yards away were
blotted out. The grass was thickly rimed with hoar
frost which gathered under the feet and rendered walking
difficult. From a great distance the low notes of the
Blackcock were borne to the ear in the intense stillness
of the early morning, and, save for an occasional cry of
protest from a Redshank or Green Plover, as I suddenly
disturbed them in the mist, the air held no sound. With-
out warning the mist lifted, and the pale sun shed his
beams over the rough moorlands. Immediately above
the river the cold cloud still rested, marking its course
afar as it twisted down the strath. There were no Snipe
drumming over their nesting site this morning : the frost
had chilled their blood, and a silence brooded over all
bird life, save the Blackcock settling their early morning
disputes before their attendant ladies.

The tail feathers of the Snipe are of so peculiar formation
that it may be well to give here a description of them : — In
the first outer tail feather the shaft is exceptionally stiff,
and shaped like a sabre. The rays of the web are strongly
bound together and are very long — the longest, in fact,
reaching nearly three-quarters of the whole length of the
web. The rays lie along the shaft of the feather like the
strings of a musical instrument. Other species of Snipe
possess four drumming feathers, and one species has no
fewer than eight. The drumming feathers of the hen
Snipe are not as strong as those of the male.

The bleating of the bird has given it specially chosen
names in other languages besides that of the Scottish
Highlands. In France the Snipe has been called Chtvre

THE SNIPE 165

volant or " Flying Goat," while in Germany the name of
Himmelsgeiss has been given it. The Snipe is an early
nester, and many of the hens are brooding before the end
of April. The nesting site is usually near water or boggy
ground, and the nest, if such it can be called, is placed
under the shelter of a tussock of grass. Sometimes a
dry knoll rising out of a bog is given the custody of the
eggs. These are four in number, and are very large for
the size of the bird. In their ground colour they vary
from olive green to brown, and over this ground colour
bold markings of dark brown are spread, the markings
being, usually, more numerous toward the larger end of
the egg.

Incubation lasts little over a fortnight. When dis-
turbed from her nest — this, by the way, is merely a depres-
sion lined, perhaps, with a few pieces of grass — the Snipe's
behaviour differs greatly from that of the Dunlin under
similar circumstances. A close sitter, the female Snipe
will sometimes almost allow herself to be trodden upon
before rising from her eggs, but when she does leave the
nest she jumps up with a hoarse shriek and flies out of
sight at her greatest speed, never venturing near the
spot until all danger is past. Some young Snipe see
the light early in May, and as late as the closing days
of August I have seen a young bird not fully matured, so
it appears probable that, like the Woodcock, the Snipe
at times rears a couple of broods in the course of a season.

One warm July day I witnessed a very charming
spectacle in a field bordering on a wide expanse of moor-
land. A kindred ornithologist and myself were seated at
the edge of a wall overlooking the field when we became
aware that a Snipe was standing fearlessly in the long
herbage a few yards from us. As we watched her, the
bird came forward, and disappeared among some rushes
bordering the wall. For the space of a minute or so she

166 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

remained hidden, and we thought she had gone there to
shelter, but presently she emerged from her obscurity,
and following her closely were two small chicks. By com-
parison with the green grass these little people appeared
almost black, so dark was their downy plumage. Their
mother realised that danger was near, for she led them
quickly away, but never turned to see whether her children
were following her. They kept their position close behind
her, although the pace for them was a quick one, and they
were soon lost to sight behind a ridge. One realised how
wonderfully obedient the chicks were : they were left
in the rushes at the approach of danger, their mother
having evidently enjoined them to remain concealed and
without movement until she returned for them. A little
later on we again came upon the family party : they were
feeding in a grass-covered ditch, and at our approach the
parent rose and flew off as though she had no young near.
Once she soared characteristically, dipping until she had
almost touched the ground before she moved her wings
to drive her forward.

Although eminent authorities have stated that a Snipe
with a brood by her feigns lameness to distract attention,
I have never found this to be the case, the bird invari-
ably flying off as she does when sitting on her eggs. The
young Snipe have the bill long almost from the first.
They are clad in down of a dark brownish red colour,
and are spotted with dusky brown about the head and
on their upper parts.

Although the Snipe is generally distributed throughout
the glens of the Highlands; it is rarely found nesting at
high altitudes. In the Forest of Gaick, where the eggs are
not infrequently taken by blackheaded gulls, it breeds
plentifully at an altitude of 1500 feet above sea-level, and
it also nests near Loch Eunach, among the Cairngorms, at
a height of close on 2000 feet. During the winter months

THE SNIPE 167

great flights of these birds arrive on our coasts from
Norway and Sweden, but it is said that even during
migration these Snipe never travel in flocks, but always
either singly or in pairs. In its feeding habits the Snipe is
nocturnal. Its food consists of worms, insects, and also
of delicate plant roots. It is supposed to be able to
swallow the morsel without withdrawing its bill from the
soft ground. To the northward of Scotland the Snipe
has a wide range. In the Faroes it is found nesting, and
in Iceland it is fairly plentiful. In Scandinavia and in
Denmark it is common. It extends its range considerably
beyond the Arctic Circle, and is found in most of the
northern districts of Russia. At the approach of winter
many Snipe migrate south to the Mediterranean region
and along the Red Sea. From here they make their way
through Persia and India, and are found also in Ceylon
Burmah, China, and Japan. The Jack Snipe, which is found
in Great Britain during the months of winter, is held not
to nest in these Islands, though I hear that in 1914 an
authenticated case of its nesting in Sutherland is on record.
Descriftion. — ^The bird may be distinguished from
the Great Snipe by the tawny, " rufous colour of its outer
tail feathers. The tail feathers usually number from
fourteen to sixteen, but sometimes only twelve. The
crown of the head is marked by a median and two lateral
lines of buff. Lores dark brown. Back and sides of the
neck buff, lined with dark brown. Interscapulars and
scapulars black, edged with yellow. The feathers along
the outer border of interscapulars have the outer web
rich buff forming a conspicuous longitudinal band.
Wing coverts dark brownish grey tipped with white
and buff. Major coverts and secondaries dark grey
narrowly tipped with white. Primaries dark grey. Tail
feathers have basal portion black, succeeded by a yellow
band. There is a sub- terminal band of black and terminal

168 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

band of white. Breast, flanks, and abdomen white. The
flanks may be barred with dark grey. Under tail coverts
pale brown barred with black. Bill brown. Legs green-
ish olive. The full fledged young lack the longitudinal
stripes on the back, which is blackj marked with lines of
huffish white and dark chestnut. The forehead is pale
brown barred with black — the flanks also. There is no
seasonal change in colouration with the Snipe, and the
sexes are alike. The length of the male Snipe is lOj
inches, and the extent of the wings 16 inches. The female
is rather larger, being 11| inches long, and the wing ex-
panse 17| inches.

THE GOOSANDER

MERGUS MERGANSER

Iach Fhiacailleach (Gaelic) ; Grand-harle (French) ; Grosser Sa^er
(German). Local names : — Sawbill, Saw-neb, Dun-diver.

It is a debatable point whether certain of our Highland
birds have extended their breeding range farther south
during the last half century, or whether, with the growth
of interest in ornithology, more interest in the nesting of
these birds is now taken than was formerly the case, and
so fresh discoveries are being brought to light. Be that
as it may, it is an undoubted fact that more than one bird
which was formerly quite unknown as a nesting species
in Great Britain is now found regularly in certain localities.
The Goosander is a case in point. The fii'st record of
its nesting in Scotland was obtained so recently as in
1871 from Perthshire, while now (1914) it is by no means
a rare bird north of the Tay during the months of spring
and summer, and is looked on with scant favour by fisher-
men on account of the large number of young trout and
salmon which it consumes — so much so that it has re-
cently been in several districts removed from the lists of
those birds protected by law.

The Goosander is such a handsome bird that its ex-
termination would be a most regrettable occurrence, still I
am bound to say that the damage worked by a pair of
these birds amongst the trout of a hill burn is extensive.
Not long ago I had occasion to traverse one of these
burns for a considerable distance. The district was one
of the wildest in Scotland, with not a single croft visible

169

170 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

as far as the eye could reach, so that the birds would be
left undisturbed year after year. Near the head of the
burn trout were extremely abundant, every pool being
crowded with fish of various sizes, but gradually I noticed
that the trout became less numerous until scarcely a
single individual could be made out even in the most
likely pools. The white droppings of a Goosander on
his favourite stone, and a sight of both birds as they rose
in front of me and winged their way rapidly down stream,
at once explained the scarcity of fish at that part of the
burn. A short time before this occurrence, I had been
told by a veteran watcher on a neighbouring deer forest,
that every trout on his beat had been eaten up by a pair of
Goosanders, and after my own experience I am inclined
to attach a good deal of truth to his statement.

In its habits, as in its appearance, the Goosander
resembles its ally, the Red-Breasted Merganser, so much so
that the two birds are often confused — and, indeed, even
the name, Red-Breasted Merganser, is almost unknown
in some parts of the Highlands where the birds themselves
are not uncommon. As a general rule, it is true, the
Goosander is the larger bird, but the Merganser varies
considerably in size. Especially close is the resemblance
between the hen birds of the two species, and only a near
view of the hen can place her identity beyond dispute.

But in their nesting habits there is considerable differ-
ence. The Merganser is, perhaps, the latest of all the
ducks to commence to brood, for June has arrived before
her clutch is completed, whereas the Goosander may
be sitting tight as early as April 4th. The nests of the
two species can always be identified at once by the down
on which the eggs rest. The down of the Goosander is
of a creamy yellow throughout, whereas that of the Mer-
ganser is light grey with a bluish tinge, the centres being
almost white, and the tips greyish white. The Merganser,

THE GOOSANDER 171

too, is not so essentially a bird of the hills as the Goosander,
for it may be found nesting along the shores of broad rivers
in the Lowlands, whereas the Goosander is confined to the
true Highlands.

Considering the exposed nature of the ground where
it breeds, the Goosander is an early nester. Before March
is out the first eggs are laid, and the young are hatched
before the Merganser has commenced to brood. The
nesting station of the Goosander is usually a hollow in
some very old tree, and the nest may be at a consider-
able distance from water. Sometimes it is placed in
a crevice of a rock, or in a hollow amongst large stones.
A recent expedition I made to a nesting site of the Goos-
ander resulted in the discovery of a hen bird sitting
hard in the hollow of an old Scots pine. It may be men-
tioned that this tree is one of the most resistant to decay,
and it is rare indeed to find a specimen containing a hole
of sufficient size to suit the requirements of a lady Goos-
ander, so that when such a hollow is discovered it is almost
certain to be tenanted. The nesting site in this particular
instance was in a forest of Scots pines about 1200 feet
above sea-level. A couple of evenings before, an orni-
thologist companion and I had seen a particularly hand-
some Goosander drake feeding on the shallows of the
river a few miles lower down, and we learned from a
neighbouring stalker that the previous season a Goosander
had nested in a hollow tree in the forest above.

The day of the expedition was in early May, and in
the clear atmosphere all the hills were most sharply defined.
On the high peak of Loch-na-gar the sun shone brightly,
lighting up the great snowfields on its north-facing slopes.
Nearer at hand the Glen of the Golden Eagle was in dark,
deep shadow, while away to the nor'west a great inky
black cloud was gathering about Beinn a' Bhuird, the
whole hill being soon blotted out in a storm of rain and

172 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

hail. For some time we searched the fir wood without
success, and then, on rounding a specially large hollow
pine, became aware of repeated hissing cries emerging
from the interior, from which a hen Goosander regarded
us furiously. Though trembling with fear and anger,
she refused to leave the nest until a hand was thrust into
the hollow. From the photograph of the nesting site it
will be seen that the entrance to the hole becomes consider-
ably narrower near the ground, so that it was impossible
for the mother bird to make her way out without flying
perpendicularly up the hole for some feet. We had an
opportunity of admiring her beautiful plumage as she
sat there guarding her eggs. Her rich chocolate-coloured
head she constantly moved from side to side in her anxiety,
and her back, with its pearl-grey feathers, was trembling
and quivering.

After a certain amount of gentle persuasion the Goos-
ander left her eggs, and attempted to fly out of the nesting
hollow. She almost reached the top, but failed to secure
a foothold and fell back on to her eggs, unfortunately
cracking one as she did so. Again she made the attempt,
and with the help of my companion, who thrust a hand
under her just as she was on the point of slipping back
once more, gained the open and flew rapidly down the
glen, quacking huskily. In the nest were eight cream-
coloured eggs, resting on a layer of do^m of like shade, but
from all appearances the hen had been sitting only a
few days, so that the down was not so deep as would have
been the case had incubation been far advanced.

This down is plucked by the brooding Goosander
from her own breast, and serves as a blanket when she is
away feeding — for, as is the case with so many members
of the Duck family, the drakes take but little interest
in the affairs of their wives, and thus the duck has to
look after herself. When she leaves the nest she

Wf^^

Goosander's nest and eugs in a veteran
Scots fine.

The hollow at the foot was too narrow to allow the bird

to move liackwards and forwards, so she had to fly

perpendicularly up at least four feet before finding an

egress

<t. j^^ ^ ;. ^j3^j^_:^a^Sk

Goosander's nest, in a clei-t among large stones.

THE GOOSANDER 173

covers her eggs over with the down, and the heat is thus
retained for several hours. This is of special value, since
the ducks feed mainly in the evening, when the air is
cool, and when the eggs would otherwise rapidly lose
their warmth. In the case of the nest described above,
the Goosander chicks would be able to leave the nest on
their own small feet, but sometimes this is quite impossible.
For instance, I was recently informed by a stalker that he
found a nest in a hollow tree that had no entrance except
from above, and, as baby Goosanders could not be ex-
pected to clamber up the perpendicular side of a tree, the
inference to be drawn is that the chicks are carried out
by their mother. Sometimes, too, a Goosander chooses
as a nesting site a ledge on a rock from where there is a
drop of many yards to the ground below. In such a
situation it would be, obviously, impossible for newly-
hatched ducklings to reach the ground of their own accord.

I know a certain rocky gorge bounding the course of a
hill burn where a pair of Goosanders nest every year.
A mile up the glen is the Loch of the Willow — the Loch
an t' Seilich of the Gael — and it is on this loch that the
Goosander does the most of her fishing. On the one
side the gorge is of considerable height, and it is usually
here, on a ledge of rock, that the Goosander duck makes
her nest. This year (1914) she decided to try the opposite
side, and laid her ten eggs in a hollow among large stones
not far from the water's edge.

It was an unfortunate choice on her part. May was
not many days old when a great storm visited the hills.
For two days rain fell heavily and steadily, and on the
evening of the second day this rain changed to snow.
The burn rose rapidly, for the loch at the head of the glen
was filled to the brim and still the corries ran water.
Nearer and nearer to the nest the waters approached,
until at length the Goosander moved out into the storm,

174 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

abandoning her nest to the floods. On more than one
occasion a few weeks afterwards I had seen the bird rest-
lessly winging her way backward and forward jmst the
old nesting site, and, although I had every reason to believe
that she was brooding on a second clutch of eggs, I was
unable to locate the site. One evening — it was the 6th
of June — my host and I made a last expedition to the
nesting ground, though, after previous unsuccessful visits,
we had little hope of discovering the eggs. For some time
we searched, but saw no signs of the Goosander, and had
almost given up our quest when, as a last resource, we
climbed to the highest point of the rock and dropped
a couple of stones into the burn thirty feet below us.
Immediately the hen Goosander was seen flying quickly
up stream, moving only a few feet above the surface of
the water, and now there began a stern search for her
treasures that she had been so reluctant to quit. Over
perilously narrow ledges we clambered with imminent
danger of falling into the burn beneath, but the elusive
nest was nowhere to be seen. Soon we had searched the
whole face of the rock with the exception of one hollow,
guarded by blaeberry plants of a delicate green and
situated about twelve feet above the water's level. A
solitary and insignificant little feather, entangled amongst
the vegetation, gave us fresh hope, and we determined to
investigate what the elusive hollow contained. The
rock below the hollow was perpendicular — overhanging
even — and although, by using alarmingly small niches as
footholds, I succeeded in reaching a point two feet below
the hollow, farther ascent was impossible. The only
thing to do was to break down a portion of the rock to
create an artificially formed ledge, and after an hour's
strenuous work, during which we were half blinded with
the dust from the splintered rock, we succeeded in dis-
lodging a portion, and then the writer managed to raise

THE GOOSANDER 175

himself to the required level. To his intense gratifica-
tion, there was the nest, containing six beautiful eggs of
a pale creamy tinge, reposing on a thick layer of creamy
down.

For some time there had been no appearance of the
Goosander, but now she anxiously crossed and recrossed
the gorge, during her last flight bringing with her a couple
of her tribe, attracted either from sympathy or from
curiosity, to see for themselves the cause of her anxiety.
Up stream the loch narrows at its tail end, and the burn
commences its course with a pool of great depth, known
locally as the Black Pool. Here our Goosander halted,
and, dipping down to the water's surface, swam suspiciously
about, her brown head moving expectantly from side
to side as she watched and waited for the moment when
she could with safety return to her nest. A little later
on the mother Goosander carried her young, one at a
time, down to the water's edge, and led them by degrees
up the burn to the Loch of the Willow. Here she gradu-
ally instilled into them the art of catching the rapid
moving trout or the rose-tinted char, or she perhaps — if her
brood became wearied — took them on her back and swam
quietly around while her little ones dried themselves in
the strong June sunlight. Not till summer has left the
hills, and the birches fringing the loch have shed the very
last of their golden leaves, will the Goosander leave the
Loch of the Willow. Their course will lead them
south'ard, for the hill loch will soon be in the grijj of the
ice, and not till they have, maybe, reached the waters
of some English lake will they descend, and here take up
their quarters for the winter.

Even when quite babies, the young of the Goosander
are perfectly at home on the water. They can dive well,
and remain a considerable time below the surface. They
can also swim almost entirely submerged, only the top of

17G HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the head showing, and the small swimmer appearing for
all the world like a rat, as it makes its way as speedily as
possible from the danger zone.

I think that, when danger is perceived by the mother
Goosander from afar, she sees her chieks safely concealed,
and rises from the water, flying backward and forward
near the spot. I once saw a Goosander after behaving
in this manner rise to a great height, and make her way
rapidly in the direction of a neighbouring loch. On
passing a certain loch where I knew at least one brood
of Goosanders was concealed, I saw the Goosander duck
flying around restlessly. A strong breeze was blowing
down the glen at the time, rippling the clear waters of the
loch, and aided by this wind the Goosander rose up, with
each circle which she executed, till she had reached a
great height. A pair of Eagles had their eyrie on a rock
near — I had only a few minutes before seen both birds
alight at their eyrie and commence to feed their hungry
Eaglet — and I wondered whether the Goosander would
be sighted and pursued, but no, she moved rapidly south-
ward— making, apparently, for a loch which lay farther
up the glen — until she was lost to view in the bright sky.

Sometimes very large broods of young Goosanders
are seen. An angler, to whom the Highland glens are
well known, on one occasion came across a family of no
fewer than fourteen youngsters. On the water with them
was only a single adult bird, though a second was seen in
the air : whether this was the drake, or whether two broods
were present and the more timid of the mothers declined
to stay with her young, is doubtful.

Even in the south the Goosander at times is driven
from still water by stress of weather, and then the birds
frequent rivers or, perhaps, the sea itself.

One winter's afternoon I was watching the ducks on
a certain loch feeding on a ' narrow strip of water which

THE GOOSANDER 177

had so far escaped the frost. Amongst their number
was a Goosander drake, conspicuously handsome in his
dark and rich cream-coloured plumage. This bird dived
repeatedly below the surface. For a time he was un-
successful, but at length emerged holding in his bill a
good-sized pike, which he had considerable difliculty in
swallowing. Even then the fish apparently continued its
struggles in its captor's interior, for he swam uneasily
about until the pike had ceased fighting, when he clambered
up on to the ice and stood there, in sleepy content,
while he digested his well-earned meal. On one occasion
an eel no less than eighteen inches in length was taken
from the gullet of a Goosander duck.

The courtship and display of the Goosander has many
points in common with that of the Eider drake. The bird
swims in company with the ducks, and from time to time
suddenly stretches his head upwards, the neck being ex-
tended and the bill gaping. At other times the bird raises
the fore-part of its body in the water and bends his
head low. Sometimes he jerks himself along the water,
throwing up clouds of spray in the process. This court-
ship display is accompanied by a soft and low quacking.

The range of the Goosander is a wide one to the north
of Scotland, though south of the Tweed it is unknown
during the nesting season. In Iceland it breeds, and
probably in Greenland also. In Norway and Sweden
it is plentiful. In Lapland the eggs are taken by the
peasants. Here the season of spring is late in arriving,
and it is June before the birds commence to brood. In
order to induce a passing Goosander to nest, the Lap
places against the trunk of a pine a decayed trunk with
a hole in the centre. As a hollow pine is none too common,
the duck gladly avails herself of this nesting site, and the
peasant, appearing periodically on the scene, removes
the eggs with the exception of one, which he leaves in

178 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

order to induce the unfortunate bird to provide him with
a further batch. In Finland and in Northern Russia
the Goosander is a common summer visitor.

On the great hills of Asia it nests at the height of
10,000 feet. In India it nests amongst the Himalayas.

At the approach of autumn the Goosander migrates
southward, its powerful wings enabling it to make long
and sustained flights. It makes its way in search of
warmth and sunlight to the southern districts of Spain
and to Northern Africa. At times it is found along the
Mediterranean, and in the Black Sea is fairly numerous.
Eastward it is found across Siberia and Central Asia,
visiting Japan and China at the close of the nesting season.
In North America it is represented by a sub-species —
Mergus merganser americanus. In winter these birds
range south to the Gulf of Mexico.

Description : Male. — Head and upper part of neck
black, glossed with green. Inner scapulars black, outer
white. Lower back ash grey. Wing coverts white,
secondaries narrowly margined with black. The lower
parts of the neck, and under parts, white, the latter during
the life of the bird bearing a delicate tinge of pink. Bill
and iris red. Legs and feet orange red.

Later in the summer, in his eclipse plumage, the drake
differs from the duck in his darker back and by having a
ring of black round his neck. The Goosander duck has the
head and neck bright chestnut, the red brown contrasting
strongly with her white throat. Her upper parts are of
a pearl grey. Major coverts broadly tipped with white,
with a dusky spot on the inner web. Inner secondaries
white. Under parts white except the flanks, which are
barred with grey. The young when hatched are of a
dark brown colour.

THE CURLEW

NUMENIUS ARQUATUS

Gthlbneach, Guilbinn (Gaelic).

" Coire's nm bidh guilbnich " = " A corrie where curlew are found."

Grosser Brachvogel (German) ; Le Courlis (French) ; Whaup,

QuHAUP, OB Faup (Scottish).

As the Tarmachan is essentially the true bird of the high
mountain lands, so the Curlew may be said to breathe
out the spirit of the lesser hills, of the rolling moors, re-
mote, yet not entirely beyond human dwellings. There
are two bird notes I think inseparable with these moor-
lands. One is the vibrating, impassioned calling of the
Curlew ; the other is the pipe of the Golden Plover. Dur-
ing the first days of March the moorlands are without
sound, seemingly without life even. And then the Cur-
lews arrive in their hundreds. The country of heather
is silent no longer. On every side one hears, on these fine
mornings of early spring, whistling, trilling cries — cries
which are thrown far across the moors and re-echo through
the glens. But it is in a wood — one of those thickets of
naturally-sown Scots pines, the remnants of the great
Caledonian forest — that one realises what a strength
and power there are in the Curlew's love-song, for here
the notes resound, thrown back from many trees, in a
manner that compels attention.

Although the fact is not generally known, even amongst
bird lovers, few of the Curlew which make our hills such
happy places during the months of spring have wintered
in these Islands. True, there are representatives of the
species in their thousands to throng our mud flats during
short January days, but they have nested, not in Scot-

179

180 HILL BIEDS OF SCOTLAND

land, but in the High North, beyond, maybe, the Arctic
Circle. Our own Curlew, even before the approach of
winter — in early days of August, when the winds are still
warm on the hills, and when food, one imagines, must still
be plentiful — leave the moorlands and set their course
south. How far they travel is uncertain. Some winter
on Spanish coasts or on the shores of Portugal, but a
still more southerly point must be reached by many of
those Curlew which have laid their eggs and reared their
young on the hills of Scotland.

The air is soft and mild when the Curlew first arrive
at their upland nesting haunts, but as often as not, within
a space of a few days, even hours, of their arrival, winter
returns with its full severity. Blizzards sweep the moors,
pools and mosses become frozen fast, and the poor Whaups
have difficulty in obtaining a supply of food sufficient
to keep the spark of life alight. Many succumb to such
storms, many more fly feebly to and fro, uttering hoarse,
husky cries quite unlike their usual clear, whistling notes.
Yet it never seems to enter their small minds that a flight
of, at the most, two hours' duration, would bring them
to the coast, where food must await them on the mud flats
of river estuaries even during the most severe weather.
Still, were they residents in the district — as is generally,
though erroneously, supposed — their line of conduct would
be more difficult to understand than if they kncAv these
Islands merely as their nesting site and quite unassociated
with hard weather.

For a week or so after their arrival on the hills the
Curlew keep together in flocks, but even before the open-
ing days of April the majority have paired. It is during
April more than any month that the " white land " echoes
and re-echoes with the love-song of the Curlew. The singer,
flying along the moor a few yards above the surface of the
ground, checks his flight and rises almost perpendicularly,

THE CURLEW 181

with wiags rapidly beating the air. On reaching a certain
elevation he soars — gUdes rather — 3arthward, in a slanting
direction, and it is now that his song is uttered. Com-
mencing usually in a couple of long-drawn whistles, uttered
in a very low key, the song quickens, the notes are sharper
and clearer, and have at the middle of the " performance "
a curious distinctive " break," difficult to put into words.
It is at this point that the song is carried far across the
moorland country — it can, it is stated, be heard three
miles away, if everything be favourable — but almost at
once the key is lowered, the calls become more subdued,
more drawn out, until they end, as they commenced,
in low, melancholy cries.

Sometimes one sees a Curlew making his way across
a moor and constantly fluttering up into the air. But
one imagines that there is something at fault, for time
after time he utters only the first note of his song, and then
almost at once mounts again into the heavens. Can it be
that he does not succeed in reaching the correct altitude
from which all self-respecting Curlew commence their
appeals to their adored ones ? But perhaps the songster
is not producing that bottom note satisfactorily, and thus
is doing his best to perfect it. It is, I believe, only the
male birds that practise these distinctive risings and dips
in the air, but I can assert from personal experience the
hen also makes use of the trilling, tuneful cries, which
most ornithologists associate only with the cock bird
during the season of nesting.

The Curlews are on the moorlands for close on two
months before the first eggs are laid. During April
of the present year (1914) quite remarkable weather
conditions were experienced in the country of the hills.
Day after day cloudless skies and mild breezes made
it hard to realise that summer had not arrived, and so
I was interested to see whether such exceptional tern-

182 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

peratures would hasten the laying of the moorland birds.
In the case of the Curlew, however, I am bound to say
that the birds did not seem to be influenced in the least.
I was nevertheless impressed by the remarkable punctu-
ality in the laying of the birds in the district I had under
observation, for on 27th April I saw three Curlews' nests
the owner of each of which was at precisely the same stage
in the production of her clutch. Even had the nests
been near to each other this fact would have been worthy
of setting down, but, as a matter of fact, a considerable
distance separated them. Again, the elevations were
different. One nest was about 500 feet above sea-level,
the second 800 feet up, while the third was near the 1000
feet contour line. The nest of the Curlew is — as is the
case with most " waders " — a primitive affair, being
merely a hollow scraped out amongst the heather or
rough grass and lined, perhaps, with a few grass stalks.
It is sometimes placed on a " tussock " in a bog.

The eggs, four in number, are remarkably large for
the size of the bird. They are pyriform in shape, and
are usually, though not, be it noted, always, arranged with
their small ends to the centre. In markings they are
handsome. Some are of a bufhsh ground colour, others
olive green, and in the same nest one may be found differ-
ing markedly from its fellows. The eggs are thickly spotted
and blotched with dark grey-brown spots and blotches,
and these are generally more numerous towards the larger
end. The mother Curlew commences to sit after her
second egg has been laid. These, it may be mentioned
here, are not laid in the morning, and I believe that a day
may elapse without an egg being deposited.

During the present season I spent some time in watch-
ing the behaviour of the Curlew of a certain rough meadow
bordering on an upland river. A pair of birds about
100 yards from where an ornithologist companion and I

i^^

Caki,k\\"> m;st. The ec;(;s are i.yim; in an unusual rosnioN.

THE CURLEW 183

were concealed led us to believe, by their interesting
behaviour, that they had decided to nest near. The
hen — distinguished by her larger size and darker plumage
— was feeding not far from us when her mate appeared
on the scene. He seemed to be considerably annoyed
that she was not looking after her nest, for he pursued
her energetically backwards and forwards, endeavouring
to implant upon her person pecks from his long and sharp
bill. It was on the following day that we discovered the
nest. For quite a considerable time we watched a Curlew
feed among the wet grass land, and then, to our surprise,
she stopped suddenly and sat down so that only her head,
with its long curved bill, was visible. The nest was untidy,
and the eggs, two in number, had been partially hidden
by grass placed over them by the parent bird. We re-
treated once more, but it was some time before the bird
returned to her nest. She walked sedately amongst the
long grass, and once surprised and interested the writer
by uttering the vibrating song heard only during the
nesting, while she was standing on the ground ! A rock
lay on the moorland near the nest, and on to it she climbed,
falling sound asleep with her head half under her wing.
At times we could see one eye open, and she would lazily
stretch herself before dozing off once more. At length
she went back to her nest, and, as though to keep her
company, a Golden Plover arrived and mounted guard on
a knoll a few feet from her, before he flew off to look after
his own household affairs.

That same afternoon we made an expedition to the
high moorlands, and, as I mentioned above, found two
more Curlews' nests, each containing two eggs. Though
the full clutch had not been laid, the hen bird in each
instance was sitting fairly close, and when flushed circled
round us, uttering her shrill notes of alarm. One of the
nests was placed in very boggy ground — and, indeed, I

184 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

think that of all " waders " the Curlew at times chooses
the most swampy localities in which to nest. Usually
the wariest of birds, she occasionally shows a confidence
which is quite surprising. On one occasion I came across
a Curlew's nest where the owner did not appear to be
so unapproachable as is generally the case, and so I deter-
mined to attempt to secure some photographs of her on
the nest. It needed only two or three visits to implant
a surprising amount of confidence into my " sitter," for
at the end of this period I was able, by careful stalking,
to ajiproaeh to within a distance of six feet and to erect
a half-plate camera without causing her to leave her eggs.
And yet this bird, which was, to all appearances, a model
mother, brought off three of her young, and then left the
nest with them, abandoning her fourth egg, in which
was a fully-developed chick — a chick which would have
emerged from the shell if its mother had waited on only
a few more hours.

A little earlier in this chapter I mentioned that the
eggs of the Curlew were usually, though not invariably,
placed in the nest with their small ends towards the
centre. In such a position they take up less space, but
a Curlew of my acquaintance evidently had her own
ideas on the subject, and never, to my knowledge, had
her eggs placed in the position favoured by every self-
respecting member of the great family of " waders."
A photograph of this particular nest is given as one of
the illustrations of this chapter.

Although the Curlew is never met with far from the
hills, still its nest is rarely placed at a greater elevation
than 2000 feet above sea-level. It thus does not frequent
the high hills where the Golden Plover has its home. A
country entirely given over lo heather is not looked on
favourably by the Whaup, for here is an absence of its
staple food — of worms and other dainties, which it probes

THE CURLEW 185

for deep in the soft earth with its long, bent beak. The
ideal ground is what is known in Northumberland as
" white land " — great expanses of moorland grass, with
many peat mosses scattered through it, and it is here that,
more than anywhere, the moors re-echo with many rever-
berating whistling voices. Besides worms, the food of
the Curlew at its summer quarters is varied. Insects and
their larval forms are eaten, and the berries of the blae-
berry {Vaccinium myrtillus) and the crowberry {Em-
petrum nigrum) are also consumed on occasion. Although
inhabiting only the middle zone, as it were, of the hills,
the Curlew never, so far as my experience goes, nests on
the moors actually on the coast-line, though they are
found quite a short distance — half a dozen miles or so —
inland. Like other waders a number of " trial " nesting
hollows are scraped out near the nest finally utilised, and it
is said that these hollows may be the work of the cock bird,
but so far as I know this point has never been investigated
in the case of the Curlew, though with the Green Plover
there is little doubt but that the cock amuses himself, and
fills his wife with admiration, by pivoting himself round from
one side to another during his display, forming the "scrapes"
which are so much in evidence at the nesting site.

It is toward the end of May that the first of the baby
Curlews emerge from the shell. They are able to run
actively about almost from the moment of leaving the
egg, and it is doubtless with a view to obtaining as vigorous
chicks as possible that the Curlew, and indeed the majority
of wading birds, lay such large eggs. Indeed I incline
to the belief that, of all the waders, the chicks of the
Curlew are the most vigorous when hatched.

On one occasion a Curlew had her nest in a moss at
the foot of the Camigorm mountains. Usually, on leav-
ing the nest she flew off in comparative silence, but on
the morning when I last visited the nesting site both

186 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

she and the cock bird flew around in extreme anxiety,
repeatedly uttering their usual cry, and also a curious
distinctive chuckling note, which they make use of only
when their young have been hatched out.

I remarked to the stalker who accompanied me that
the birds must have hatched off their brood, but he in-
formed me that he did not think this could be the case,
for only the previous evening he had visited the nest and
the eggs had then just commenced to chip. But a few hours
had brought great changes with them, and not only were
two of the young hatched off, but they were well grown and
able to run actively about — indeed, it was only by means
of considerable persuasion that they could be induced to
remain in the nest while their photograph was being
taken. On the upper mandible of the bill of each chick
was plainly visible the hard encrusted growth by the help
of which the young birds hammer through the shell, and
thus emerge from their prison.

From time to time the parent birds crossed overhead,
whistling and calling in alarm, and the chicks answered
them with cries which strikingly resembled those of their
elders, albeit they were yet somewhat husky through lack
of practice.

In colour the Curlew chicks have the under surface of
a yellowish grey, the upper parts being of the same colour,
but with patches of dark brown distributed over them.
Until the time when they are able to fly — about seven
weeks — they are cared for most attentively by both parent
birds. When she had eggs only to guard the Curlew often
left the nest in silence, stealthily, nor did she put in an
appearance while her treasures were being admired and
examined. Her call note, if she indeed cried out at all,
was the " courlie," which one ever associates with the
Curlew at all seasons of the year. But when her small
children are ushered into the world all this is changed.

THE CURLEW 187

At the first sighting of danger the mother bird— perhaps
both parents together— rise excitedly, restlessly, from
the moor, and fly round the object of their alarm, uttering
the while anxious cries, resembling somewhat the words
" whew-e-whro," and quite unlike their ordinary call
or alarm notes. Sometimes, indeed, one of the birds will
swoop down at your head, giving utterance to a wild
shriek of distress. As the chicks crouch low on the ground
at the first warning cry of their parents they are extremely
hard to discover. One may search unsuccessfully for
hours, and it really is more satisfactory to lie quietly and
watch from some point of vantage until the young show
themselves again under the impression that the danger
has passed. The Curlew chicks are conducted by their
parents on quite long excursions, and may not infre-
quently be seen in green grass fields, where their discovery
is a much easier matter than out in the rough moorland.

Not after their young are strong on the wing do
the Curlew remain on the hills. As early as the third
week in June I have seen them migrating south, flying
high before a northerly wind, and calling repeatedly as
they passed, and by the Twelfth scarce a Curlew can be
seen on the uplands anywhere. Even before that date
our eastern coasts are already thronged with Curlew
people from northerly lands, for although our own birds
may, a few of them, winter on our coasts, the majority
make their way south till the shores of Spain and Portugal
are reached.

Doubtless because of its grotesquely long bill and its
wild, sometimes almost unearthly cry, the Curlew has
from earliest times been looked at askance. To the High-
landers the " Whaup " is often considered as being in
league with the Evil One— in fact " Auld Whaup-neb "
is a name ^for the devil — and its wail may portend
disaster to the crofter who hears it.

188 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

It is often thus. The sound which to one ear may
seem grand, striking, in its primitive, plaintive strength,
to another may possess all those qualities which inspire
dread, the dread of those who possess not understanding
for the call of the wild. The name by which the Curlew
is known to the Gaels is " Cluilbinn." One will fmd, on
consulting a Gaelic dictionary, that " Guilbinnach " is set
down, but I believe that this latter word is a term applied
rather to the VVhimbrel than to the Great Curlew.

In the west they have — or perhaps it is only a few
of a former generation — a charming name for the Curlew.
To the old shepherd herding his flock above the deep sea
lochs bordering the Atlantic the bird is An t-Eun Chais-
meachd (the Bird of Alarm). A true name indeed, for the
Curlew is the sentinel of the hills.

Though the Curlew could not but be considered as a
peaceable bird, on a certain occasion, when making my
way up a glen, I disturbed a Heron from his fishing at
the burn side. A pair of Curlew had young near, and as
the large bird passed their ground first one and then the
other of the parents dashed out and with angry cries
pursued the intruder fiercely. The Heron dodged and
dived with no little concern till he had placed himself
beyond the danger zone. Then one of the Curlews,
desisting from the attack, soared off, and before alighting
on a ridge threw out over the glen its vibrating whistling
song, evidently thoroughly satisfied w^ith its sally.

A quality which doubtless inspires respect and awe
among the superstition-; is the habit of the " lang nebbet
whaap " wiiich keeps it abroad throughout the hours of
darkness. Recognised hours of sleep are unkno-SMi to it— it
snatches rest at odd intervals throughout the whole twenty-
four hours of the day. From the closing days of July till
the end of March, or even later, our eastern coast-line —
and to a lesser extent the western — harbours countless

THE CURLEW 189

thousands of the Curlew tribe. When they first arrive they
are confiding, with a confidence ])orn of an ij:fnorancc of the
habits of man, but inroads amongst their ranks are soon
made by the shore gunner, and the Whaups become restless
and difficult to approach. They obtain their food during
this season mainly on the mud flats of river estuaries, but
when compelled by the rising tide to beat a retreat they
move in flocks a short distance inland, where they feed
lazily till it is possible for them to return once more to
the shore. They have been observed several miles from
the tide to cease feeding in the fields, collect together,
and wing their way to the sea at the very moment when
the shallows were first exposed.

An exj^lanation advanced to account for this interest-
ing behaviour is that Curlew scouts are stationed within
sight of the sea to give notice when first the feeding grounds
are left bare. I would rather incline to the belief that the
birds' sense of the progress of time is sufficiently accurate
for them to feel instinctively when it is possible for them
to return to their interrupted meal. During these months
of winter the call note is usually a single one — " curlieu " —
but at times, and especially if the weather is open and
at all suggestive of spring, the birds utter the opening
bars of the vibrating song characteristic of the nesting
season. At such times the song is never, so far as my
experience goes, finished — it is abruptly cut short, as
though the singer suddenly realised that his vocal effort
was premature, and, indeed, somewhat out of place. The
Curlew is quite good eating, especially if it has left the
moorlands only recently, but after a prolonged sojourn
by the sea its marine diet renders it less sought after.
There is an old saying to the effect that,
"A Curlew lean, or a Curlew fatj
Carries twelve pence on its back."

It is not everywhere, however, that the Curlew is eaten.

190 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

For instance, it is recorded that the inhabitants of Shetland,
who regard the Curlew as possessing supernatural qualities,
will not think of touching its flesh. A visitor to the
Islands who was daring enough to do so was alluded to
afterwards as " The man that ate the Whaup."

The Curlew is a bird with a wide range. It is, indeed,
found through most of Europe and Asia, right down to
the south of Africa, and to the Islands of the Indian Archi-
pelago. It is abundant in Scandinavia during the nesting
season, but is unknown, I believe, in Iceland and Green-
land. It nests in the Baltic provinces of Russia and on
the west coast of Denmark. It breeds also in Brittany,
in Belgium, Holland, the northern provinces of Germany,
in Bavaria and in Austria. In winter the Curlew ex-
tends its range to Africa, where it is found in Cape Colony
and Natal, also in Madagascar. It is the Asiatic-nesting
birds which are found in winter along the Indian Ocean.

In these Islands the Curlew nests as far south as Devon
and Cornwall, but is perhaps most numerous on the
Border Counties, where it is one of the most abundant
birds during the nesting season. Nowadays, on the moor-
lands of Aberdeenshire and Banffshire the Curlew abounds
during the spring and summer months, but I believe that
a century ago the birds were unknown to nest in these
districts. At this time also no Curlew bred on the Outer
Hebrides. In Orkney and Shetland it is found through-
out the year.

In Ireland the Curlew is common, and it is also plenti-
ful in Wales, where suitable ground occurs.

Description. — The Curlew is a distinctive bird, liable
to be confused only with the Whimbrel, but may be identi-
fied by its larger size, also by the call note, which is quite
different to that of the latter species. The plumage is
brown and striated, and there is only a slight seasonal
change in the colourings on the feathers. The sexes

THE CURLEW 191

closely resemble each other, but the female is the larger
of the two, and her bill is slightly longer, being nbout 7
inches in length. In the nesting plumage the mature
bird is of a pale creamy brown, heavily striated with a
darker shade of the same colour on the head and neck.
This striation appears also on the under parts, which are
white. The rump is white. The shortest upper tail coverts
are white, streaked with dark brown, the longest are white,
barred with dark brown. The primaries also are of this
colour, the outermost with white bars across the inner
webs, the innermost with white bars across both webs.
Secondaries barred with brown and white. Breast,
abdomen, and under tail coverts white. Bill brown.
Legs pale slate grey. After the autumn moult the upper
parts are more pale and the striations less marked.

In the young of the season the upper parts, neck and
breast, are more rufous, the bars on the wings are more
clearly defined ; the under parts, too, are more strongly
barred. The average length of an adult Curlew is about
2 feet, and the extent of the wings 3| feet. The birds
vary considerably in size, so a hard and fast average is
difficult.

THE GREENSHANK

TRINOA NEBU LABIA

Deoch-bhthdh (Gaelic) ; Chevalier oris (French) ; Hellfarbiger
Wasserlaufer (German) ; Oolitbolsciioi (Russian).

Should ever a poetical name be sought after for the
Greenshank, one that would suit it well is The Bird with
the Restless Spirit. I think that even the Curlew himself
must yield second place to him in watchfulness.

The Greenshank is met with over the majority of Great
Britain as a passing migrant only, and there are very few
nesting haunts of the species south of Inverness. A well-
known nesting site of the birds, where I have recently been
studying them, is sadly overrun by collectors who let
no opportunity pass of making themselves possessors of
so great a prize as a clutch of Greenshank's eggs, and I
fear that the birds are decreasing at this, their farthest
south stronghold.

During the second week in May, 1914, the head stalker
of the forest and I spent a good deal of time in hunting
over suitable Greenshank ground, but saw no signs of a
nest. The stalker knew the habits of the Greenshank
well, and he told me that he had invariably before found
nests even when he was not searching for them. I had
my only sight of the birds during the second day's search.
In i:)assing a lochan a pair of Greenshank rose from where
they had probably been feeding and made their way
quickly over the moor in silence. I had previously heard,
while searching for the nest, what I imagined was the cry
of one of the birds overhead, but did not succeed in catch-
ing a glimpse of him. The nesting-ground was not far

192

THE GREENSHANK 193

removed from the nesting site of the Crested Tit, but
was farther out into the moor.

Several years previously a big heather fire had got
out of hand, and had burnt a large tract of ground, in-
cluding a number of pine trees. Previous to this Green-
shank were not numerous in the locality, but the bare
and blackened moor was evidently to their liking, for a
number put in their appearance the following year, and
frequented the spot regularly until the present season.
The birds arrived early in April, usually paired, and the
full clutch of eggs could usually be found on May 12th.
On one occasion a great storm of snow descended on the
nesting ground of the Greenshank after some of the birds
had commenced to brood. One of the stalkers on the
forest had discovered a nest a day or two previously, and
visited the spot during the storm, when no less than 14
inches of snow covered the ground. So deep was the
snow that he was unable to locate the exact place where
the nest was situated, but in his search he happened to
tread on a branch concealed out of sight by the white
covering on the ground. At once the sitting Greenshank
broke through the snow, where she had been brooding
on her eggs, quite buried from view, and fluttered out with
difficulty. This incident speaks well for the hardiness of
a ])ird which is only a summer migrant to these Islands.

In many ways the Greenshank is eccentric in its habits,
and one of its peculiarities is that it must have some
definite landmark against which to deposit its eggs. Its
nesting grounds are moorlands with a few scattered pines
growing through them, and there are usually scattered
about dead pine branches, or the stumps of former trees
still hold themselves a foot or so above the surface of the
ground. The nest is invariably to be found placed beside
one of these landmarks ; it is never in a tussock or on a
knoll, as is the case with the Redshank, and thus, to one

194 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

who knows this idiosyncrasy, the nest is not so difficult
to discover as would be the case otherwise. Should tree
stumps or fallen branches be absent, the Greenshank
makes its nest against a stone, but this is the exception
in the nesting grounds which I know.

Like some other " waders," the Greenshank is in the
habit of making several false nests or " scrapes " in the
vicinity of the true nest, and it may be that these are
formed by the male bird in the course of his display. The
nest is a slight depression neatly made and of no great
depth. At times it is lined with pieces of bark pulled by
the Greenshank from the branch against which the nest
is placed, or a few blades of grass or pieces of lichen are
utilised.

The eggs are usually four in number, but I am informed
by a stalker that he once found a clutch of five. They
are handsome and quite characteristic. The ground
colour is usually of a pale buff, and the eggs are thickly
marked with a distinctive shade of dark brown. The
underlying shell-marks are more apparent than is the case
with the eggs of any " wader " I know. The behaviour
of the bird during the time she is brooding varies greatly.
At times it is possible to approach to within a few feet
of the nest without causing her to leave, or she may be so
wary as to rise from her eggs before it is possible to mark
her departure. The Greenshank, as I mentioned earlier,
usually chooses as a nesting site a piece of moor recently
burnt — she never rests amongst full-grown heather — and
so it is not easy to approach her unobserved.

Though so wary and suspicious a bird, she sometimes
nests in the vicinity of houses. The stalker of a certain
Inverness-shire forest showed me in 1914 a Greenshank's
nest within five minutes' walk of his home. On May 21st
the last egg was laid, and the bird commenced to brood,
but owing, perhaps, to the fact that a pair of Curlew had

THE GREENSHANK 195

their nest near, and gave the alarm in no uncertain manner
when danger approached, the Greenshank always sat
lightly ; in fact, it was only on one occasion that I saw
her leave the nest at all. During her flight, too, she
remained silent, and it was after we had been at the nest
some time that she put in an appearance, flying restlessly
round once till she lighted on the very top of a Scots pine,
and uttered her wild and striking whistle before winging
her way right out of sight. Presuming that the hen did the
main share of incubation — she was at no time sufficiently
near to be identified — the cock never put in an appearance.
The nest in this case was placed at the foot of a decaying
tree stump, and there was a complete absence of cover for
the brooding bird. For many miles around there ex-
tended great pine forests ; indeed, the woods approached
to within less than 100 yards of the nest. In the back-
ground the whole range of the Cairngorm Hills lay clear
in the strong June sunlight. On Cairngorm itself broad
fields of snow still lingered. Coire an t-sneachdach still
held great fields of white, though I have often wondered
why this title of Snowy Corrie has not been given to Coire
Lochan, farther to the west of the hill, for here the snow-
beds linger as often as not throughout the year.

In Coire Caise the burn draining the corrie still flowed
deep beneath its snowy covering, but from Creag na
Leachann the hand of winter had departed for a season.
From the haunt of the Greenshank one looked right
through the Larig Ghruamach, that deep pass, full of
gloom and grandeur, which stretches through the very
heart of the great hill range. The pass is high — at its
summit the sea lies near 3000 feet below it — and its dark
sides were still flecked with snow. In the far distance,
too, one could see the birth-place of the Dee, and where
the river, emerging from its tunnel of snow, dropped in
white cascades into the glen below.

196 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Amid such surroundings of grandeur and solitude
the Greenshank had her home. And not far from her
nest, on the far side of a narrow belt of pines, a second
pair of birds had made their haunt in the earlier part of
the season. Their scrapes I found — in the shelter of the
inevitable fir branches — and also what I think was the true
nest, placed against a small tree stump ; but of the eggs,
or of the birds themselves, there were no signs. I am
doubtful, even, whether the bird whose nest forms the
illustration to this chapter hatched off her brood.

On June 12th I visited her nesting site for the purpose
of photographing the young Greenshanks. As I passed
through the trees bordering the moss I heard curious
chortling cries which I am at a loss to describe, or to liken
to any other note in the bird world, proceeding from a
tree a few yards distant. On the very summit of this
tree was perched my friend the Greenshank, but almost
at once she took her departure, uttering her characteristic
wild whistle. I crossed over to the nest and found the eggs
had gone, but there were no signs of small pieces of egg-
shell lying in the nest — and these should have been present
if the young had been safely hatched. I returned to the
moss later in the day, coming across from the opposite
quarter, but failed to see or hear the parent bird again,
although I searched a good extent of the nesting area.
It would almost seem as though the eggs had been taken,
for the Greenshank when she has young is usually the
most anxious of parents, fluttering above the head of the
person crossing her ground and uttering wild cries of alarm.
Her anxiety for her young continues even after these
have reached the age at which they are strong on the
wing, as the following incident will show. One early
morning of mid- July I was approaching a certain hill loch
which lay far below me, with waters unruffled by even
the faintest breeze. Through the glass I was watching

THE GREENSHANK 197

a Goosander in her fisliing operations when I heard,
coming from the moss at the end of the loch, yelping cries
which at this far distance sounded for all the world like
the call notes of the Peregrine Falcon. But a nearer
approach showed me that a Greenshank was uttering
her call of alarm, and, as I considered that she must have
young somewhere near, I lay on the edge of the moss and
kept under observation the area from which the parent
bird had risen.

After a time there emerged from the long, mossy
grass a young Greenshank, which bobbed and curtsied
in characteristic manner as it surveyed the scene, which
it imagined to be clear of danger. From the anxiety of
the parent bird, I imagined that the youngster could not
yet be capable of looking after itself, but as I walked up
to where it was standing, it took wing without hesitation.
Its mother at once joined it, and together they disappeared
from sight, the adult bird still uttering her cry of alarm.

Another nesting site of this interesting bird which I
visited in June of 1914 was on the fringe of the Green-
shank country.

It was late in the evening as the stalker and I ap-
proached the nesting ground. For the first time in his
experience, the whole of the forest had failed to produce a
single Greenshank's nest ; not even a scrape had we been
able to discover, and so it was satisfactory to hear the
alarm note of the bird as she moved elusively above the
pine trees to our right. After a search we came across
several scrapes, and then, situated against a fallen branch
on a strip of heather burnt during the spring, the nest
itself. The eggs had hatched safely off, to all appearances,
for the nest contained small fragments of chipped shell,
but the young must have left some days previously,
and we did not see any traces of them. It is worthy of
mention that one rarely, if ever, sees a pair of Greenshank

108 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

at the nesting site, or guarding the young. Tlie male
birds of the species are said to roam far from their mates
during the nesting season, and do not, as the Redshank,
take their share in the rearing of the brood. The Red-
shank too does not appear to frequent the same country as
does his relative of the green legs, for I did not see a single
one at any of the nesting sites of the Greenshank that I
visited.

The peculiarity of the Greenshank in perching on trees
is well marked ; one of these birds will rarely alight on the
ground if a Scots pine is in the neighbourhood, and it
may well be owing to this habit that nesting sites with
a few pines scattered through them are chosen in prefer-
ence to treeless areas ; for it is in such pine-scattered
situations that the Greenshank nests not only in Scotland,
but through the whole of Northern Europe.

It is curious that a northern nesting bird like the
Greenshank should find the winter in Great Britain too
inclement for it, yet such is the case. During August and
September numbers of the birds are seen on migration
throughout the country south of the Tweed, but I believe
that the south of Ireland is the only district where they
remain throughout the winter.

Tlie first authenticated instance of the Greenshank
nesting in Scotland occurred about 1835, when Mac-
Gillivray found the eggs in Harris. Since then it has
been found in the Moray basin, and in several of the most
north-lying Scottish counties. Its nest has been dis-
covered in Skye and in the Hebrides, and also, it is said,
in the Shetlands.

During its stay on the moorlands the food of the
Greenshank consists of worms, of beetles and insects,
with their larval forms, but in winter on the coast it may
feed on small fry of various kinds and on crabs and shrimps.

If hard pressed, both old and young Greenshanks

THE GREENSHANK 199

are able to take to the water, though they do not do so
under ordinary conditions. One has been known, how-
ever, to throw itself repeatedly under water in order to
escape the attentions of a Hawk. During the nesting
season the Greenshank is essentially an Arctic bird. It is
found in the wild districts of Scandinavia, and is numerous
in Finland and in Northern Russia. In Asia it extends
north to beyond 65 degrees, and eastward is found
in Kamschatka. It winters in the basin of the Medi-
terranean, and through Africa it extends as far south as
Cape Colony. Those Greenshank with their nesting
quarters in Northern Asia go south, with the approach
of the cold weather, to the Indian Ocean and east to China
and Japan. During the cold season it also visits the
Malay Archipelago, Tasmania, and Australia.

Description. — Head and neck light grey, heavily
lined with lighter grey. Amongst the interscapulars
are many black feathers margined with white. Long
inner secondaries ash grey, spotted on margins with
darker grey. Lower back and rump pure white ; upper
tail coverts white, barred with black. Tail white with
black bars. Wing coverts dusky brown ; major coverts
barred with black. Primaries black, the outermost having
white shafts. Under parts white. Side of head, neck
and forebreast white, lined with black. Flanks barred
with black. Bill black. Legs and feet green. Iris dark
brown. After the autumn moult the upper parts are
greyer and are less heavily striated. The full-fledged
young are dark brown above with buff margins to the
feathers. The downy young are pale buff above, with
a triangular black spot on the crown, and the black loral
stripe continued backwards behind the eye to merge with
the black line on the nape. Back marked by median and
lateral stripes of black. Under parts white.

THE GOLDEN PLOVER

CHABADRIUS PLUVIALIS

Feadag (Whistler), FEADAa-BnuiDHE (Gaelic) ; Plxjvier dori!; {French) ;
GoLDENER Regenpfeifer [German). Local names : — Yeuxjw
Plover, Grey Plover, Whistling Plover, Sheep's Guide.

"The deep-toned Plover Grey, wild whistling on the hill."'

It is but natural that a bird with so plaintive and melan-
choly a cry as the Golden Plover should have more than
one legend woven around it by the imaginative people
of the western seaboard. By them the Feadag is known
to feed on the wind, on the wild wind that sweeps in from
the broad Atlantic, because of its great offence committed
close on two thousand years ago. For it is known to the
Gael that in the fu-st of the Plover tribe there dwelt the
souls of those Jews who assisted at the crucifixion of
Christ. So through the ages the Plovers have no peace ;
they call wildly, mournfully, for very shame at the great
sin of their forbears, and they frequent the desolate and
remote places where they may seek out from Nature the
healing that she alone can give them.

The Golden Plover is more a lover of the solitary
places than the Curlew. It arrives on the hills often
before February is out, and right up to December large
flocks may be seen frequenting the high moorlands. But
it is more than probable that these Plover, seen so late
in the season, are wanderers from the High North resting
awhile on their southern migration. In like manner there
appear in late spring, when our own birds are already
busy with family cares, flocks of Golden Plover which are
on their way to Northern Norway and Lapland, where

200

THE GOLDEN PLOVER 201

the land is btiil deep under snow, in spite of the hght from
the midnight sun. I have seen such a company of Plover
as late as the third week in May, and at the time was at a
loss to account for their appearance.

While the Curlew is rarely found nesting above the
2000-foot level, the Golden Plover is found on the great
mosses of the Highlands quite 1000 feet higher, and I have
occasionally seen them at a height of 4300 feet above the
sea. On one occasion, while on the plateau of Braeriach,
itself at the 4000-feet level, I had an excellent view of a
Golden Plover as he flew across from out of the west.
Long before he was visible his clear-toned whistle was
borne down the wind, and the bird crossed over the
plateau at great speed, the snow-covered ground and the
Dee running beneath its white blanket — ^though the season
was early September — having little attraction for the
Feadag. On the Moine IMlior — the great moss stretching
away for miles on the borders of Aberdeenshire and
Inverness-shire, on which many burns have their birth-
place, the voice of the Golden Plover is the only sound to
break the stillness of this country of mist and storms.
April is giving place to May ere the Plover reach the Great
Moss, for its surface carries the winter snows long, and the
springs are frost-bound, yielding up no food for the Plover
tribe. But on the lower-lying moors and " white land "
the courting of the Plover takes place during March and
April, and by the third week of the latter month some of
the more forward of the birds are already brooding.

During the season of courtship, and indeed up to June,
is heard the song of the Golden Plover, and this song is
one of the most striking things in the habits of moorland
birds. Before commencing to sing, the cock bird mounts
into the air to a height of at least 100 feet, and flies slowly,
deliberately around the spot where his mate is listening
to him below, uttering as he flies a musical whistling cry

202 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of two syllables sounding like " whee-wheeu," the last
being long drawn out. His flight during this time is
quite distinctive — he no longer cleaves the air with sharp
and rapid wing-beats, but moves his wings with slow,
deliberate strokes, holding them V-shaped for an instant
between the beats. Should he cease his song — even for
a few moments — the normal flight is at once resumed.
His cry on these occasions carries over a great stretch
of moor, and, I think, can be heard at a greater distance
even than the vibrating notes of the Curlew. One day
recently, while salmon-fishing on the river Dee, a Golden
Plover for some time cruised overhead, singing loudly,
but his notes had been audible for some time before I
could locate the singer. Neither the picturesqueness of
his flight nor the pleasant pitch of his voice appealed to
the gillie, who asked, in a tone more than a little sarcastic,
" What's he shoutin' up there for, anyway ? " After
some time, during which these long-drawn whistles are
regularly continued, the singer shoots earthward, uttering,
just as he is reaching the ground, a curious purring cry,
repeated rapidly five or six times. On paper the sounds
resemble " Trooeu, trooeu, trooeu."

It is only in a very few localities that the nesting site
of the Feadag descends to the level of the big Scottish
rivers. One moor there is which I have in mind where,
bordering the Dee, and at a height of less than 400 feet
above sea-level, at least two pairs of Golden Plover nest
annually. Shut in from the winds of the north by rising
ground, and fully exposed to the sun, this little moor is the
earliest nesting site of the Golden Plover in the whole
district, and here, as early as May 10th, I have seen a
young brood close on a week old.

Although feeding largely on soft, boggy ground, the
Rain Bird — as the Plover is sometimes termed — does
not usually choose such wet sites for its nesting as does

THE GOLDEN PLOVER 203

the Curlew. I have found the nest on more than one
occasion close to a hill-top where no marshy land was
visible, even at a distance, and the eggs, as far as my
experience goes, invariably have a dry bed. Even before
the exact nesting site has been chosen, the birds are nervous
and restless when approached, uttering their whistle re-
peatedly until they rise from the moor and wing their
way right out of sight.

After the eggs have been laid, the cock bird mounts
guard on some raised ground within a hundred yards or
so of the nest, and remains motionless for hours on sentinel
duty. He is quick to spy out an intruder as he approaches,
and at once calls sharply, repeating his call at intervals
of a few seconds. On learning from her mate that danger
is near, the hen Golden Plover rises unseen from the nest
and runs quietly through the heather for some distance
before she also adds her own alarm cry to that of the
cock.

It is not always that her husband warns her, and at
times such as these she will sit very close, being thus quite
unlike the Lapwing, who is always on the alert for danger
when brooding, and who takes wing when the intruder is
yet some distance away. And how elusive, how decep-
tive, the call of the Whistler is ! At times one imagines
that the bird is close at hand, and one looks in vain for the
well-known form. But now comes again the cry of the
bird, this time faint, indistinct, and one realises that the
owner of the voice is in reality several hundred yards
distant. When mist is low on the hills, it is often possible
to approach birds which are nominally shy and wary.
On a certain occasion I was walking over high ground
enveloped in mist, and almost trod upon a Golden Plover
covering her eggs. She remained there quietly until
my back was turned, then slipped off into the cloud.
Only a day or two later I revisited the nesting ground

204 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

ill fiiie weather, and, evidently sighting me from a distance,
the Plover had left the nest long before I had reached it.
During the spring of 1914 I spent some time studying the
Golden Plover at its upland haunts. One nest I saw was
situated on a wide open moor near to a circular sheep
shelter (known to farmers as a stell).

Though May had not arrived, the hen bird was sitting
very close, and when disturbed fluttered along the ground
with trailing wings, practising the well-established decep-
tion so common in the bird world. All the time I was
at the nest the Plover flew round anxiously, repeatedly
callmg in her plaintive whistle, and when I left the spot
she was so near that it seemed she would quickly return
to the nest. Although I waited for some time behind
the shelter, the bird could not make up her mind to ven-
ture back on to her eggs.

For quite a long time she wandered round, from time
to time picking up an insect which her sharp eye had
located. Once, while walking quickly over some uneven
ground, she stumbled on the edge of a tussock of grass,
almost losing her balance, and appearing ludicrous in the
extreme in her efforts to regain it. The cock bird was
not to be seen ; he may have been away feeding, but
certainly he did not come near to lend his moral support
to his wife.

The eggs of the Golden Plover arc always four in
number. The nest and nesting sites often resemble those
of the Green Plover, but the eggs are larger and more
handsome. The ground colour varies. It may be of
an olive green or of a buff-coloured brown, and on this
ground colour large marks of rich red brown are laid over
the eggs, the markings being generally more numerous
towards the larger end. The nest is markedly deeper
than that of the Lapwing. It is rarely placed in long
heather, but short heather of about eight years of age is

THE GOLDEN PLOVER 205

much utilised as a nesting site. The nest is scantily
lined with pieces of lichen or dried stems of grass.

The young remain in the nest only a few hours after
hatching off. They are prettily-coloured chicks, clad in
down of pale golden yellow, and mottled over with black,
their under parts are white. Over each eye runs a white
lateral stripe, and this line continues down the back ;
when fledged they are brownish black, spotted with bright
yellow above.

Even when the young are just hatching off, the parent
bird at times broods very lightly, and leaves the nest when
the intruder is still quite 100 yards distant. I have noticed
that sometimes both Plover call repeatedly until one has
actually discovered the nest, when they stand about
quietly, realising that it is no longer possible to lead one
away from their eggs or young.

On Morven, in Aberdeenshire, a great many pairs of
Golden Plover nest every spring, and even above the 2000-
feet contour they have quite a number of Lapwings as
their companions. It is of interest here to note the
difference in the behaviour of the two different species
when their nesting ground is invaded. The Lapwing,
ever on the alert, move backward and forward over their
ground with tireless energy. But the Golden Plover
rarely take wing, though they, too, are sensible that their
home is being invaded ; they stand quietly near, and their
piping cry resounds through the moor. The flight, too,
of the Golden Plover has little resemblance to that of
the Lapwing. It is not so erratic as that of the Peewit,
and the bird can forge through the air at great speed
with little effort, whereas with the Lapwing rapid and
sustained flight is unusual.

Again, the Golden Plover is a peace-loving bird, the
Lapwing a bom fighter. Any feathered visitor, from a
Starling to a Heron, is driven off with fury by the Green

206 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Plover should it be so unwary as to venture near the
nesting grounds of the Feadag. But I have rarely seen a
Golden Plover fly out to the attack.

Not infrequently a big snowfall sweeps over the higher
hills during the early days of May, piling up great wreaths on
the sheltered south slopes where the Plover nest, and forcing
them to leave their eggs. At such times the unfortu-
nate birds congregate once more into flocks and frequent
the fields at the foot of the glens. If they have only just
commenced to brood they will deposit fresh clutches of
eggs after the storm and hope for kinder weather conditions.

It is on account of its gift in foretelling the approach
of stormy weather that the Golden Plover has been termed
the Rain^Bird. Before rain or wind the birds retire inland,
should they be at their winter quarters on the coast, and
they are never known to be misled in their forecast.

The food of the Golden Plover varies with its quarters.
When on the moors it often collects in numbers, on some
crofter's small field lying in the heart of the hills, to feed
on the worms and beetles found amongst the young grass.
It is also partial to larvaj and to the seeds of certain
plants. The young, too, live chiefly on insects. In
winter, when on the coast, the Plovers feed mainly on
marine animals, molluscs and the like, but not being
equipped with a bill like that of the Curlew, they are
at a considerable disadvantage as compared to the latter
bird in their food-hunting on the mud-flats. For this
reason, perhaps, the Plover is not such a marine feeder
as the Curlew, for it frequents the fields bordering on the
sea even more than the coast -line itself. During autumn
and winter the Golden Plover is much sought after by
the shore gunners, for it makes excellent eating. After
a time of persecution the birds become wary and difficult
to approach, but before they have learnt their lesson, if
one out of a flock is shot and falls to the ground its com-

THE GOLDEN PLOVER 207

panions wheel about and return to the spot, calHng loudly
in an attempt to induce their dead comrade to rejoin
them.

Compared with the Lapwing, the Feadag is a late
nesting bird, and for several reasons his nesting may
become unusually protracted. Breeding as he does on
the very exposed moorlands, he is greatly dependent on
the weather for the successful hatching of the eggs. Many
enemies surround him and his mate in their wild haunts.
Grey Crows move silently past, on the keen look-out for
booty of any kind, and foxes have their home on the high
tops.

Even in mid-July the Feadag may still be busy with
family cares. I shall for long hold pleasant memories of
a day that I spent on a certain wild hill during the early
part of July, a hill where many a Golden Plover was still
tending her young.

It was early morning when we left our base. The
sun already shone warmly, and the glen was full of life,
but away westward the big hill was in gloom, and at times
grey clouds just touched its summit. For some distance
the way led up a wide strath through which there flowed a
burn now running dead low as the result of successive weeks
of drought. Its pools held many a trout, some of which
must have turned the scales at considerably over a pound.
From the bushes of broom, and from the bracken on the
hillside, Whinchats called incessantly with their metallic
alarm cry. They had families, all of them, and strongly
resented the intrusion into their nesting sites. Pairs of
Sandpipers were tending their chicks at the burn side,
and a Dipper, rising at our feet, flew off uttering his sharp
alarm note.

The ground hereabouts is given over to sheep ; Grouse
there are, it is true, but they are regarded as a secondary
consideration. Thus it was that we were not surprised

208 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

to see a family of no less than seven Carrion Crows, of evil
and forbidding mien, rise from the hill before us and fly-
unsuspiciously away. Such a sight would have stirred
the most stoical Grouse-preserver, for no Carrion or Hooded
Crow is tolerated where the Red Bird is shot. For three
miles our way led us up the strath, then, striking off to
the right, we commenced our climb. The sun shone with
great heat as we gradually left the glen below us. Before
us lay a great corrie, with dark crags leading down into a
small bum far beneath them. Here the Peregrine has
his eyrie, and during the season when we visited the glen,
a pair of the Falcons had nested close to the ledge of
rock where a Raven had successfully brought off her
young earlier in the season. The young Corbies had, in all
probability, already left the nest before the Falcon scraped
her primitive hollow and deposited her handsome eggs,
otherwise it must have been a circumstance well worthy
of record that Falcon and Raven should thus have nested
side by side in harmony. On the lower slopes of the hill
bird life was almost non-existent, save for a Meadow Pipit
which fluttered off its nest before us, and literally tumbled
down the hill in its efforts to distract our attention.

It was not till we had reached an elevation of close on
2500 feet that we heard the first pipe of a watchful Fcadag.
And now from all sides we heard such cries, borne across
on the breeze from the higher grounds. One Golden
Plover by his behaviour led me to suspect that even at
this late season his mate was still brooding on eggs, for
as we passed he merely called a few times without changing
his position, then lapsed into silence. If his brood had
been in the neighbourhood, I think he must have showed
more anxiety. Not once, but several times, we heard
a Golden Plover uttering his characteristic love-song,
and noted the singer as he moved rapidly over the
hill plateau. Here we stood at an elevation of close on

THE GOLDEN PLOVER 209

3000 feet, where even under the most favourable conditions
May must be well advanced before the Plover migrants
commence to lay. But they are lucky if they hatch off
their first brood — if they escape the glance of the Raven
and the Carrion Crow, and if the hill fox spares them.
So it is that second nests are by no means uncommon
on the hill.

On the hill-top the ground stretches away for miles
in a great plateau, with many peat hags and a few lochans
catching the sun as they lie there. Masses of cloudberry
carpet the ground, and the club moss {Lycopodium
selago) grows more profusely than I have ever seen it else-
where.

One Golden Plover we came across had young of a
tender age, and displayed more anxiety on their behalf
than I have ever known of the Fcadag tribe. At first
she ran around uttering her plaintive pipe, and on my
essaying an imitation of the cry of a chick in distress she
crouched flat on the ground, endeavouring to persuade
me that she was brooding her young, and practising a
deception which I became so familiar with while studying
the Dotterel at her nesting site. Presently, tiring of this
ruse, she ran do\vn the hill with tail outspread, and waving
one wing in the air. She certainly feigned a broken wing
with exceptional skill, the way in which she held it high
and waved it feebly being masterly to a degree.

Later on, finding that I remained unresponsive despite
her finished acting, the Plover ran back towards me. At
times she paused, then gradually fluffed on the feathers
before giving them a quick shake, in true Dotterel fashion.
Like the Dotterel, too, she fed on any insect her sharp eye
detected, despite her anxiety. When I rose up and started
out for another part of the hill, the Feadag evidently
imagined that my move was the result of her manoeuvring,
and showed great gratification, flying and running on

210 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

ahead of me until she imagined she had decoyed me far
enough from her brood, when she wheeled back and joined
her family.

The sun was low when we left the hill-top. A Grouse
fluttered away at our feet, disclosing a family of ten young
chicks, which crouched flat on the ground until they began
to feel the cold wind. Then they rose together and, cheep-
ing shrilly, ran off in all directions, their progress being
so precipitate that they constantly were thrown head over
heels, but were off again none the worse the next moment.
From patches of " scree " Wheatears chacked their dis-
pleasure before taking flight. But the most beautiful
sight of the day was, when looking over into the corrie,
we saw one of the Peregrines sailing across the face of the
rock. The sun glinted full on its plumage, and it was
clearly marked against the black rocks, already deep in
the shadow of the evening. Backwards and forwards
across the rock face the Peregrine circled, dipping and
gliding with the poetry of unrivalled flight. Several times
it made as though to alight, but for some time yet we
saw it till it came to rest on what was probably its roosting
ledge. Through the glass I could make out a hollow
in the cliff which, from the characteristic white droppings
on the rock below, seemed as though it must be the Falcon's
eyrie, unless, indeed, the Raven had led forth her young
from this point when the spring had yet scarcely reached
the hills.

Not a single Curlew did we hear during this long day
on the hill : one missed their vibrating cries in a country
which should certainly have harboured a few representa-
tives. The air was still as we reached the strath below,
and the murmur of the burn carried far to-night. In the
glen the sun had already set, but on the hill, now clear of
even a trace of cloud, it yet shone with a warm, red glow,
while to the nor'-west the sky was of that deep and wonder-

THE GOLDEN PLOVER 211

ful red which presages the coming of fine weather to the
country of the hills.

By far the majority of Golden Plover seen on the
coasts of Britain during the winter months are northern
migrants, and, as I mentioned earlier in this chapter, flocks
returning to the High North pass over us up to the opening
days of June. During autumn evenings big companies
of Golden Plover and Curlew pass high above the midland
counties of England on their way from their nesting
grounds. The birds usually fly in the form of a wedge
and at a great height, their whistling cries sounding faint
and far off. On quiet winter days, when thick banks of
fog hold the coast-line, the Golden Plover at times lose
their bearings in the white mists. I have seen them
emerge suddenly out of the gloom, calling to each other
repeatedly as they flew. For a time they are swallowed
up in the fog. Then they reappear, flying aimlessly in
circles, for they are strangers and in a strange land where
many unknown dangers may await them.

As a nesting species in England the Golden Plover is of
local occurrence, but on the Border country is numerous.
As far south as Devon and Cornwall it breeds sparingly,
and is found also on the North Staffordshire moors. In
Scotland and Ireland it is found in numbers on suitable
ground. It nests in the Hebrides, Orkney, and Shetland.
Northwards it breeds on the Faroe Islands, and in Scandi-
navia is numerous. It is on the tundras of Northern
Russia that the Golden Plover has its headquarters, where
it rears its young far from all human habitations.

A well-known ornithological authority has written
that the Golden Plover and Ptarmigan of the far north,
or those nesting at high elevations, assume a more hand-
some dress at the approach of the nesting season than
do their confreres farther south or on lower ground. In
this country I have not investigated the question as

212 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

regards the Golden Plover, but recent expeditions over
Ptarmigan ground have shown me that the Ptarmigan
nesting on the high plateaux over 3000 feet above sea-
level showed noticeably richer and more striking tints of
plumage than a bird examined on a grouse moor 500 feet
or more below the former altitude.

Winter comes early to the lands within the Arctic Circle,
and thus it is that even while summer still lingers with us,
the advance guard of the northern hosts of waders begin
to appear on our moorlands and shores. These early
arrivals are chiefly young birds which make the southern
stage immediately they are sufficiently strong on the
wing to do so. Right up to November fresh arrivals
pass over us, or perhaps take up their winter quarters on
our coasts. Vast flocks of Golden Plover cross Heligoland
every autumn on their way to their southern winter
quarters, coming from the fjords and tundras of the north.
Some of these voyagers traverse the North Sea and winter
on our coasts, others pass south along the coast-lines to
Spain, and from there press on to Northern Africa. Their
principal winter quarters are said to be in the basin of
the Mediterranean. The birds nesting in Siberia pursue
a different southerly course, passing over Russia into
the Crimea and thence as far south as Palestine.

Description. — So striking are the changes of plumage
in the Golden Plover that Linnaeus imagined two distinct
species to exist. In summer he gave it the name Charad-
rius apicariusy while in winter it was to him Charadrius
pluvialis.

In the plumage of the pairing season the male has the
upper parts black, mixed sparingly with golden yellow.
On the hinder scapulars a yellow band is present. The
wing coverts are dark grey tipped with yellow, except
those on the margins, which are white-tipped. The tail
is dark, and is partially barred with creamy white. The

THE GOLDEN PLOVER 213

under parts are mostly black, with the exception of the tail
coverts, which are white. The bill and the legs are black.
The female closely resembles the male in her plumage.
After the autumn moult, which is commenced in Sep-
tember and is usually completed by November, the sides
of the face and breast are white, the foreneck coloured
with yellow, on which show dusky mottlings. The major
coverts are tipped with white. The male is slightly the
bigger bird — he is about lOf inches in length, and the
extent of his wings are 22| inches. The female is 10|
inches long, and her wings are 22 inches from tip to tip.

THE DOTTEREL

CHARADRIUS MORINELLUS

Pluvier guionard {French) ; ZubkglupOi {Russian) ;
DijTCHEN {German, local).

Long summer days spent on the high tops in the mist-
country pass before the mind as I sit down to endeavour
to give some account of a bird which, by its trustfuhiess
and engaging habits, gives many a cheerful hour to the
ornithologist who studies it at its nesting sites on the
Roof of Scotland.

In earlier times the delightfully confiding character
of the Dotterel met with but scant appreciation, and the
bird was set down as a brainless individual deserving of
little but ridicule. The very name. Dotterel, is a deriva-
tive from the verb to " dote," while its scientific cognomen
is said to have its origin in morus — a fool. Then to the hill-
man the bird is known as A71 t-amadan mointeach, a term
signifying the " stupid fellow of the peat-mosses."

This confidence of the Dotterel has had a regrettable
effect on the numbers of the bird in this country. In
former times it was, I believe, found nesting on the
Mendip Hills, and was also commonly seen on the Chilton
ridges in Berkshire and the chalk hills of Bedford, Hert-
ford, and Cambridge. Sir John Crewe wrote in 1865 that
he had often heard from his gamekeepers that it was quite
easy, fifteen or twenty years before that date, to shoot
Dotterel when they had young on the hills lying on the
borders of Derby and Stafford. Even at the present time

the birds make a halt at their old haunts during their

211

THE DOTTEREL 215

migration to less frequented localities, though no nest
has been discovered for a good many years now. Until
comparatively recent times a number nested every year
on the high tops of the Lake District, notably on Skiddaw,
but they have now ceased to visit this part of the country
except on the migration northward, although an occa-
sional pair may at times rear their young in the wildest
and most inaccessible portions of the Pennine Range.

The Dotterel now has a restricted area as a nesting
species in these Islands, and is, in fact, confined to the
wildest parts of the Grampians, where it produces a family
at an elevation of three or four thousand feet above the
sea. It has always appeared to me to be a point of
considerable interest that " the moss-fool " should be
unable to remain in this country throughout the winter,
while its near relative, the Golden Plover, spends the
dark and short days on the mud flats round our coast-line.

The contrast in the winter habits of the two birds
is the more surprising when it is realised that the nesting
sites of the Dotterel are on the most exposed hill-tops
and plateaux, where they have during this season of cares
and responsibilities only the Ptarmigan as a companion,
with perhaps an Eagle or two on his hunting foray ; while
the Golden Plover choose nesting grounds which are,
at times, but a few hundred feet above sea-level, and
only in exceptional conditions are they found breeding
at levels where the Dotterel have their home from May to
August. It cannot, I think, be that conditions of food-
supply are the cause of this southern migration, for the
food of the Dotterel and Golden Plover is much the same ;
but it may be that the Dotterel, being of slimmer build,
is also thinner skinned, and as a result is less able to bear
cold weather

That the Dotterel does find these Islands an unsuit-
able home during the winter months is amply borne out

21G HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

by the fact that only a single representative of the species
has been secured in this country during the winter — it
was shot on Dartmoor on December 12th, 1886.

The Dotterel arrive in this country towards the end of
April or commencement of May, and are said to make the
long migration flight from North Africa in the course
of a single night, since no records are to hand of their
having been observed at any intermediate halting-place
at this season. For some weeks after their arrival the
birds frequent the low grounds, feeding on various insects
in the fields, and it is not until near the end of May that
they leave civilisation and make their way to the highest
and most remote hill-tops, where they will rear their small
families amidst Alpine surroundings.

It is quite an interesting point that this diminutive
Plover almost invariably chooses as a nesting site the hill
summits or plateaux, and on the hill slopes is very un-
commonly met with during the nesting season. I am
inclined to think that this can be explained by the fact
that An t-amadan mointeach is a great walker, running
quickly and easily over the short moss and crowberry
l^lants before the intruder, and hesitating to take flight
unless actually forced to do so. Now the vegetation on
the hillside is more dense and luxuriant than on the tops,
for the common heather {Calluna vulgaris) holds its stems
erect to a distance of a foot or more above ground, and
as a result the energetic and lively Dotterel is greatly
restricted in its movements.

At the present time the Dotterel is, I regret to say, a
diminishing species in Scotland — its last stronghold in
these Islands — but will continue to hold its own, against
its enemies at all events, in several of its exposed nest-
ing grounds. Since Dotterel eggs are in great demand
with collectors at the present day, and since the birds
themselves are in requisition to yield up their plumage

TIIE DOTTEREL 217

to the salmon-fisher, it may, perhaps, be as well not to
disclose the exact breeding stations of the species in Scot-
land, but I should like to give a description of one of the
most interesting days I have spent at the haunts of these
birds.

The season was late enough to find eggs — ^it was close
on Midsummer's Day, to be precise — when I started out
with an old stalker for the high ground. The spring
had been arctic, even out of the ordinary, and large fields
of the winter's snow still remained on all the higher hills.
As we made our way up to the tops, a strong westerly
wind brought with it stinging showers of hail, but as we
pressed on upwards the wind dropped, and for a short
time the sun made his appearance. On our way we
crossed the spot where a stalker some years ago had
passed his time in digging for Cairngorm stones. I believe
that these excavations were successful, and as we passed
we found and collected quite a number of crystals of
smoked quartz of various sizes and shades of colouring.

Shortly after noon we reached the nesting site of the
Dotterel, a plateaux extending for several miles at an
elevation of close on 4000 feet above sea-level and devoid
of shelter of any kind. Here we had ample evidence
of the severity of the past winter and of the absence of any
warm weather since, for great fields of snow fringed the
precipice which dipped down to the lochan far beneath,
and as we commenced our search for the Dotterel the
mists descended on the table-land, and snow began to fall
in large feathery flakes which soon covered the hill with
a uniform white sheet. We imagined that this snowy
covering would render easy of discovery any nests of the
small Plover which might happen to be in the vicinity,
but a careful search was quite unproductive, and we
actually saw a flock of a score or so of Dotterel on the most
elevated part of the plateau, evidently the whole, or almost

218 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the whole, stock of the district. These birds, we took it,
had had their eggs destroyed by a heavy storm of snow
which swept all the high grounds during the first days of
June, and which piled up wreaths of considerable depth
in sheltered localities.

A more productive expedition was made on another
occasion, when I succeeded in photographing the nest and
parent bird. In this instance I came across a nest con-
taining three young birds : two of them had their eyes
open and were covered with a healthy growth of down,
but the third had evidently been hatched only an hour
or so previously, for its eyes were still closed and it had
an almost naked appearance, foreign to the young of the
Charadriidce. On this occasion, curiously enough, the
parents betrayed little anxiety as regards their offspring,
but when I visited the hillside three weeks later, and
discovered their half-grown chicks, the old birds showed
signs of great excitement and an almost complete dis-
regard of my presence. Running backwards and for-
wards, they frequently uttered their soft and charming
whistle, which sounded to me something like " twee, twee,
turr," the first two notes being pitched in a high key,
the last being a purring sound difficult to put into writing.
The head was periodically thrown rapidly back after
the completion of the alarm note with a peculiar jerking
movement which I have observed in several species of
" wading " birds, noticeably the Redshank.

The heat on that particular occasion was intense — a
thermometer I had with me showed a temperature of
over 80 degrees Fahr. in the shade when placed among
the blaeberries and grasses of the hillside — and over each
rapidly-diminishing snowfield there hung a small cloud
of mist, caused, I imagine, by the great extremes of tem-
perature. This is the only occasion on which I have seen
this phenomenon.

Dotterel going to the nest.

A VOUNG DOTIEKEL.

DOI riOKI.I. Ai lU.R .NKST, NKAKl.V 3,OUO 1-EKI Ali.j\ E SEA l.E\ Kl.

THE DOTTEREL 219

An incident not without humour occurred one day
when I was on the hills at the end of June with a
veteran keeper. The locality was one of the very few
where the Dotterel nests comparatively close to civilisa-
tion, and although the season was rather too late to find
Dotterel still brooding on their eggs, I was hopeful of
discovering some of the birds with their families. We
searched for some time a likely-looking hill plateau, where,
although we saw at least one pair of Dotterel, we could
find no indications of young birds, until, having almost
abandoned our search as a useless one, we disturbed a
Dotterel, which, from her behaviour, gave unmistakable
signs that she had young. We decided on remaining
quietly, lying full-length on the ground, in the hopes that
the young Dotterel would show themselves. Some minutes
passed, then first one small bird, closely followed by a second,
moved and was marked down. Still we waited for the third
member of the family, which, however, failed to put in an
appearance, so at length we rose up to photograph the two
representatives which we had marked as they crouched.

But as we regained our feet a tragedy was discovered.
A small, half -squashed ball of down was revealed lying
on the spot which a few seconds previously had supported
the keeper. Life still remained in the unfortunate chick,
but although I took it back to the keeper's house, where I
was quartered, and it was rolled in flannel and placed
before the fire, it succumbed to its injuries before the
night was out.

The surprise and regret of the old Highlander who had
unwittingly been the cause of this tragedy was quite
touching, and he assured me that he had " never in his
life done such a thing before — no, never."

The two surviving chicks afforded good material
for the camera, and while I was photographing them
the parent bird, in its anxiety for the welfare of its

220 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

chicks, ran straight up to under the lens, and attempted
to " brood " her two babies within a few feet of where
I was standing.

While staying in a well-known forest in Inverness-shire
during the summer of 1913, I had opportunities of watch-
ing the habits of this bird, which certainly seems, in this
particular district at all events, to be holding its own.
There have at times been rumours to the effect that egg-
hunters have taken up their temporary abode in a small
village on the far side of the "march," but the lessee of
the forest, who is a keen sportsman and naturalist, and who,
unlike the majority of Scottish lairds, spends the summer
as well as the autumn months at his shooting lodge,
impresses on his stalkers the fact that the high grounds
must be carefully watched during June, and that any
suspicious person must be covered by the stalking-glass
and his movements noted, even if he himself is too far
distant to be interrogated.

Our first day on the high tops was unproductive, but
on the second occasion we had better luck, for, although
we failed to see the birds themselves, we found ample
proof of their nesting in the shape of a piece of egg-shell
lying on a plateau about 3000 feet above sea-level. During
this expedition the cold was intense, though the season
was the first week in July, and it was almost impossible
to remain for any length of time on the hill-tops. While
on our walk to the nesting grounds of the Dotterel, we had
an excellent view of an old hill fox. We were descending
a steep hill face preparatory to ascending another equally
precipitous on the far side of the burn, when I noticed a fox
making his way up the opposite hillside. I do not think,
judging from his leisurely movements, that he had actu-
ally seen us, and as we remained quiet, and half-
concealed amongst long heather, Reynard's suspicions
gradually became allayed. His progress up the liill

THE DOTTEREL 221

became momentarily slower, until, judging himself out
of danger, he deliberately lay down, curling himself up
like a dog, and fell asleep. Periodically he roused him-
self and took a survey, without, however, rising to his
feet, yet seemed quite comfortable although a strong and
bitter cold wind was sweeping up the hill and was blowing
straight upon him.

Having discovered undoubted evidence that the
Dotterel was nesting on this hill-top, we took advantage
of the first good day to have a more thorough search
of the ground. A different route was chosen for the
climb. At first our way led along the shores of a deep
hill loch which has yielded many a fine trout and an occa-
sional " ferox " and salmon, and as we started the ascent,
a Golden Eagle was seen to move quickly across the hill
opposite and to sail into the rock, where she had a full-
grown and hungry eaglet awaiting her arrival. At the
edge of the plateau where the Dotterel were nesting, the
ground sloped sharply away to a loch far beneath, and
on this precipitous hillside a pair of Peregrine Falcons
had a family of full-fledged young concealed away in a
chink in a rock.

We were soon rewarded by success, for we had scarcely
reached the highest ground when we saw, moving as
rapidly as they could over the short vegetation, a couple
of young Dotterel. I marked one of these birds down,
but the little fellow sprinted ahead with considerable
speed, and doubled and swerved with such skill that it was
only after covering a good deal of ground that I was able
to capture him. I left him under my cap, and then set
out to catch the second small person. While I was photo-
graphing the two Dotterel chicks where I had placed them
together, the parent bird flew around in great distress,
repeatedly whistling in a soft, mournful key, but did not
venture so near as some of the other Dotterel I had ob-

222 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

served under similar circumstances. On this occasion
only one parent bird was present, and, in fact, it has been
my experience that both cock and hen are rarely found
in the vicinity of the nest or young.

Curiously enough, it is the male bird which is the
smaller and more subdued of the two in colouring, and it
is he also, who, it is stated by most observers, hatches out
the eggs, and probably also tends the family while his
mate is away — perhaps enjoying herself elsewhere. The
hen is also said to take the initiative in courtship, though
I cannot confirm this from my own personal observations.

The nesting season commences each year at almost
precisely the same day, and the young are hatched out
about June 22nd. Allowing three weeks as the period of
incubation — and I think this is the time as nearly as it
has been determined — the first egg must be deposited
at the extreme end of May, about a week later than the
majority of Ptarmigan commence to lay.

Not the least interesting point in the habits of the
Dotterel is the fact that its eggs are always three in
number. Now, with all the " waders," a clutch of four is
usually deposited. Golden Plover, Green Plover, Curlew,
and many others invariably produce four eggs, and I
believe the Dotterel is the only representative of the widely-
distributed and extensive group to restrict her clutch
always to three hostages to fortune.

The eggs are more rounded in shape than is the case
with most of the " waders." They are of a light brown
ground colour, and are strongly marked, especially at
their larger ends, with spots and blotches of rich red
brown. In size they are from 1"75 inches to 1*5 inches
in length, and from 1'17 inches to 1*1 inches in breadth.

The nest, if such it can be called, is a slight depression
scraped out in the hard, peaty ground on some hill plateau,
and is sometimes lined with a few pieces of dried grass

THE DOTTEREL 223

stems or Alpine lichens, such as Trichostomum lanugino-
sum. The nest is sometimes partially guarded from the
wild storms of wind and rain which prevail at these
high levels, by a stone or an irregularity of the ground.
Often, however, such shelter is entirely absent, and, like
the Ptarmigan, the Dotterel broods on the eggs unprotected
from the severity of the weather.

I once watched for some time a pair of Dotterel which
were evidently searching for a suitable nesting site. I
flushed the birds from the edge of a great field of snow,
and so reluctant were they to leave the spot that at first
I was almost led to believe they must be nesting in the
vicinity, but a search showed me that they could not
have eggs at the point where they rose, as the ground had
been freed of its covering of snow only a day or two previ-
ously. After a short time, during which I remained quiet
in the neighbourhood, I could see one of the Dotterel
evidently testing likely situations with a view to their
suitability as nesting sites. Running actively about, the
bird would now and again sit down upon some little knoll,
on which it would " brood " in various positions for a
few moments, before moving off and going through the
same business at another spot. After a time the bird
I had under observation flew uphill until it had reached
the snow. Here, standing on the surface of the drift, it
was a conspicuous object for a while, until it ultimately
moved off to some green grass above the snow. We
passed the spot again two days later, but the birds were
nowhere to be seen.

I shall long remember the magnificent weather condi-
tions we enjoyed during this expedition to the high hills.
For three days the sun shone with intense heat, but during
the day on which we made the return journey to the low
grounds, a strong wind blowing straight from off the distant
Atlantic made walking easy. We halted awhile beside the

224 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

big snowfield : notwithstanding days of tropical weather,
the wreath at its centre must have been forty feet deep,
and from its lower end a burn of ice-cold water, clear as
crystal, was issuing, and was hurrying down the hillside
to join itself to the larger stream below. At the edge
of the snow, plant life, released a few hours before from
its long winter sleep, was as yet brown and apparently
devoid of all vitality. A few yards beyond, the delicate
blades of grass could be seen forcing their way upwards,
and various Alpine ferns pushed forth their fronds, still
tightly rolled and brown to the eye. Still farther removed
from the region of snow, the hill face was covered with
plants showing a soft, pleasing green, and here and there
the cushion pink, with its thickly-clustered blooms, tinged
the hill with pink ; or the starry saxifrage's snow-white
blossom was bathed in the spray of the snow burn. Our
view extended to the hills on the western seaboard fifty
miles distant, and as we watched we could see the soft
grey clouds, carrying with them grateful mist and rain
to the parched country, gradually roll in from the great
waters, and blot out the hills one by one.

It was some hours later ere they reached our hills,
but during their journey over Scotland they had shed
their valuable gift of moisture, and here, where the glens
were parched and the crops in danger of ruin, only the
lightest of showers moistened the thirsty ground. Away
from the westerly wind, while the sun still shone, the heat
was intense, and as we left the plateau and descended
into the corrie known to the hill -man as Coire Dhoundail^
the scent of countless blaeberry plants was carried up
to us on the breeze — that distinctive scent which has such
charm, if alone from the memories of the hills which it
calls to mind.

To all who know the high grounds the aroma of blae-
berry must be a familiar thing, even if he who appreciates

THE DOTTEREL 225

it is yet unaware whence it comes. It is a scent, as I
have said, of distinction, and a scent which under the
influence of a summer's sun is almost overpowering. No
other plant has this aroma, but sometimes I think that
curious perfume from the flowers of our garden azalea
has some resemblance to this essence of the high hills.

I suspect those Dotterel nesting on the highest
Scottish plateaux have a nesting season even more i)re-
carious and more full of uncertainty than the Ptarmigan.
One such plateau which I know well stands nearly
4000 feet above the sea, and almost every season between
the end of May and the middle of July a snowstorm of
greater or less severity is experienced at this height, the
plateau being covered with snow to a depth of a foot or
more. There is no doubt that a great number of Dotterel
lose their eggs or young every year, yet they seem un-
willing to resort to the lower hill-tops. There is only
one plateau in Scotland, so far as I know, where a
considerable stretch of green grass is met with at the
4000-feet level, and here I saw a solitary representative
of the Dotterel family in mid-July 1913.

As is so often the case with the Dotterel, the bird showed
reluctance to take wing, this giving cause for suspicions
that she had a nest in the neighbourhood, but after a
careful search I came to the conclusion that this particular
bird was free of family cares, though possibly a snow-
storm which swept the hill a week before may have
destroyed the eggs or youngsters.

There is extreme grace in the flight of the Dotterel.
When an intruder is in the vicinity of her eggs or young —
or rather his eggs or young — because, as I have mentioned,
it is supposed to be the husband to whom the task of
rearing the family is allotted — the bird at times flits rest-
lessly and rapidly across the hill, backwards and for-
wards, the clean-cut wings moving with swift and powerful

226 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

strokes only a few feet above the surface of the ground.
Sometimes, in its anxiety, the Dotterel flies almost into
you before swerving off with soft, whistling cries as it
realises its danger.

Although, when they have a family to protect, Dotterel
often show quite a noteworthy absence of fear, this is
by no means always the case.

On one occasion I came across a couple of broods of
young Dotterel on the same hill plateau, about 100 yards
distant from each other. The parent in charge of the
family I first discovered flew round me in considerable
anxiety, but in the second case, although I remained for
some time beside one of the chicks — only a few days old,
and in such a helpless state that one would have imagined
considerable apprehension would have been shown on its
behalf — the parent bird remained some little dist^mee
off, and, as far as could be seen, showed no great interest
in the affairs of its offspring.

It was on a certain day of May that the pair of
Dotterel, concerning the family affairs of whom I propose
giving an account, and whom I watched closely through
Vhe first portion of their duties as parents, arrived on the
hill-top. Judging by his more subdued colouring and
smaller size, also by the fact that the feathers of his head
were brown-tipped, I believe that in this case at all events
the male Dotterel carried through unaided the duties
of incubation. On June Gth, a day of cold winds and
threatening skies, I visited his hill, and had searched
for only a few minutes when the Dotterel rose in
front of me and, with fluttering and hesitating flight,
moved off a few yards before settling and running
along the ground. The nest was easy to find. It
was the slightest of hollows scraped amongst the short
heather, and devoid of lining or decoration of any kind.
The eggs, three in number, were strikingly beautiful.

THE DOTTEREL 227

Their ground colour was of a pale olive green, and over
this large rich red markings were scattered. It had for a
number of years been my ambition to obtain a series of
photographs of An t-amadan mointeach, and so I decided
that, all being well, I would return and attempt to tame
this small dweller of the high hills. But almost at once
wild weather came to the country of the mountains. The
rain was driven across the plateau by a northerly wind,
and towards the close of the day snow took its place.
For some time the white flakes fell, and then, with the
lifting of the clouds, the hill-top stood out in a covering
of snow. In the west-facing corries the sun shone with
strength sufficient to cause a cloud of grey steam to rise
from the ground and to drift away above the skj^-line,
but on the hill-top the snow remained ; and soon, sharply
defined against the white expanse, one saw dark, antlered
forms outlined against the grey clouds, for the hill stags
came from far across the tops to seek the shelter of the
quiet glen beneath. All next day a northerly gale swept
the strath. Far below, where the Dotterel sat brooding
his eggs, the mist swirled and rushed across the corries,
and driving rain and sleet beat in his face. It was not
until the afternoon of the second day that the clouds
lifted, and from now till the hatching of his young the
small bird had fine weather almost uninterruptedly.

It was on a glorious day of mid-June that I next made
my way to the Dotterel's country. The air was still, and
the sky free of clouds as I passed up the glen. On the
burn-side a pair of Sandpipers, the proud possessors of a
newly-hatched brood of chicks, showed the most intense
anxiety, fluttering before me and uttering plaintive cries.
On the loch a brood of young Goosanders were shepherded
by their mother, and right on the path a Mallard was brood-
ing a family of well -grown ducklings. In the deep corrie
beyond the loch I could see a young Golden Eagle in its

228 ITTLL BII^DS OF SCOTLAND

eyrie. As I watched through the glass one of the parent
Eagles appeared at the nest carrying with it a Grouse for
the youngster's morning meal. Soon its mate also alighted
on the eyrie, and, while the first bird took its departure,
the new-comer commenced to feed its young with the
Grouse Just brought. Many deer there were in the glen,
clustered together at points where the faint breeze could
play on them. Even when I reached the plateau, close
on three thousand feet above the level of the sea, where
the Dotterel had his nesting site, the air was quiet and
the heat intense. While I was still quite fifty yards from
him the brooding Dotterel rose from his eggs and ran
quickly before me in order to decoy me from his nest.
I erected the camera a few yards from the nesting place,
and took up my position to wait until the bird should
become sufficiently bold to return.

Hour after hour I sat there till my legs had lost almost
all feeling, and watched the bird gradually approach
his treasures. The strong sun, shining full on the un-
sheltered nest, warmed his eggs as effectually as he could
have done himself, and thus there was no risk of the small
unborn chicks perishing of cold. But although the
Dotterel was obviously eager to return, he was unable
to summon up courage to brave the eye of the camera,
and so at length I moved off fifty yards and sat down to
watch my unwilling sitter through the glass.

In a very few minutes he hurried back to his nest,
sitting down on his eggs and gathering them well to him-
self with evident satisfaction, and so I left him for the day
— to the hills and to the Tarmachan and to the murmur of
the tiny burn which has its birth near the plateau.
Next 'day the sun again shone, but away in the dis-
tance great white clouds, massed tier upon tier, foreboded
thunder.

In the corrie near the head of the glen a big herd of

THE DOTTEREL 229

stags were feeding on tiie fresh young grass, and, when they
saw me, moved leisurely up on to the sky-line. Through
the glass I could see that they had ventured too near the
vicinity of the young of a pair of Tarmaehan for the liking
of those mountain birds. The cock Ptarmigan rose from
the ground and, fluttering on ahead of the herd, imagined
that he had drawn them from the vicinity of his mate
with her chicks. After decoying the stags to what he con-
sidered a resi:)ectful distance, he flew back to the vicinity
of his mate, congratulating himself that she and the young
had escaped danger. In the strong sunlight one could
almost see the hill grass shooting, and from the young
foliage of the blaeberry plants the air was filled with
perfume. Near many a small hill streamlet — such a
streamlet is known as feith in the poetical language of
the Gael — the blossoms of the starry saxifrage were open-
ing their white petals with that characteristic yellow spot
at the base of each. The yellow saxifrage {Saxifraga
azoides) and Saxifraga hypnoides were also noted and
admired, while on the edge of the plateau the mountain
azalea spread forth its delicate china-like flowers of pink
from trailing, prostrate stems.

The behaviour of the Dotterel was on this occasion
different to when last I had visited him, for he allowed
me to erect the camera six feet fi-om the nest without
abandoning his eggs. I left the camera with its eye point-
ing full at him and retired a few yards. He remained
without movement for a time. Then, to my surprise, and
for no apparent reason, he rose from his nest and fluttered
away.

Again I waited near for the greater part of the day in
the hopes that he would return to his nest. I marked
the storms gathering in various parts of the wide area seen
from this hill plateau. Away to the north the Monadh
Liath Mountains, at fu-st clearly defined, and with the

230 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

sun shining full on their snow-flecked corries, gradually
became obscured by dark rain clouds. Over Ben Alder,
to the west, a second storm gathered, and southwards, over
Atholl, a cloud black as night wrapped hill and glen.
Overhead, in the small opening of blue sky being rapidly
encroached upon by these three storms, the sun still shone
brilliantly. And now, toward the south-west there shot
across the inky clouds brilliant flashes of lightning, and
the dull roll of the thunder was borne across to me.
Gradually, almost imperceptibly, the storm from Atholl
approached. The Dotterel, growing bolder than on my
previous visits, slipped on to his nest just as the first
drops of rain touched the dry vegetation of the plateau.
A few moments more, and a deluge of water descended
on the hill, quickly drenching me to the skin. Such
was the force of the raindrops that they rebounded from
the ground, and every dry and disused water-course was
filled. But as I made my way down to the glen beneath
I realised hoAV clearly defined were the limits of this tropical
downpour, for a mile to the northward the ground was
scarcely damp, though here, too, with the lengthening of
the evening, there descended another storm. Before night
it, too, had disappeared, and the sky held many fleecy
clouds which were turned to rose by the light of the setting
sun.

On the morrow I again visited the Dotterel. Again
the sun shone, and now I became aware of the great
change there had been wrought among the hill faces
during the past few days ; for everywhere one saw fresh
green grass, and on some hillsides many plants of broom
— eaten to the ground almost by the stags — added a
golden note. The Dotterel left his nest as I appeared,
and again there ensued a long wait for him to return.
It was, I think, on this occasion that he first broke his
silence, uttering that charmingly soft whistle of his as

THE DOTTEREL 231

he ran round me restlessly. As it was necessary for me
to remain \\ithout movement, I was unable to follow him
when he moved behind me, and after a time I heard him
— so I thought — utter a curious, almost human, cry of
distress, quite unlike anything I had ever before known.
I resolved to place it on record, although I felt doubtful
whether I should be believed.

After a while, in order to change my cramped position,
I moved round, and, to my astonishment, found a young
deer calf nestling up against me. The small person was
quite without fear, and as I had no wish to move farther
than necessary, I resumed my watching, with my curious
companion sheltering against me.

It was not until I rose in order to change the plate
that the small calf realised how unhappy and lonely he
was, for he rose unsteadily to his feet and called piteously
several times. He wanted his milk very much indeed,
and endeavoured to obtain it, fu-st from me and then from
the camera. He offered an excellent subject for a photo-
graph, but it was none too easy to secure one, for he
insisted on following me everywhere. And so I carried
him away across the plateau and set him down on a
soft, grassy slope a couple of hundred yards distant, never
doubting but that his mother would return shortly to
search for him.

I was successful this day in obtaining a number of
photographs of the Dotterel, and with the dipping of the
sun behind the clouds of a great thunderstorm I moved
off to search the hill for another nest. In this I was un-
successful, though I flushed a Dotterel — I imagine she was
the mate of my own acquaintance — near a little cairn,
a few hundred yards from the nest.

Towards evening I left the hill, and believing that all
must be well, passed by the place where I had placed
the small calf, for earlier in the afternoon I had seen

232 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

a iiind cross the plateau behind nie and make straight for
the spot where the calf was left.

But during these hours a small life had been lost, and
a small spirit of life had gone out into the great spaces,
beyond where our knowledge may carry us. He had not
been dead long, this little calf His body was still warm,
and his tongue hung ])atlietically from the comer of his
mouth. But of his mother there was no sign ; she was pro-
bably a young hind, and young hinds are without experience
as mothers, and at times desert their offspring after birth.

As I crossed the hill the sky lighted westward with
the passing of the storm, and Ben Nevis stood outlined,
with its snowy corries and its great precipices — a barrier
stationed against the strong storms of the Atlantic.

It was on June 23rd that the young Dotterel chicks
commenced to cry out feebly inside their prisons, and to
tap vigorously on the shells as they forced their way out
into the world. On this morning the air was of extra-
ordinary clearness. Eastwards the Cairngorm range of
hills stood sharply out. The big snowfield on Horseman's
Corrie of Braeriach was clear, and the flat top of Cairn
Toul, with the snow wreaths at the head of the Tailor's
Corrie of Ben Mac Dhui lying behind it, caught the rays
of the sun. South, the view extended as far as the hills of
distant Kinross, and north-west every snow-bed on the
Knoidart Hills was distinct.

The air was cold, and soon a squall of wind and rain
swept across Scotland from north to south. The tem-
perature fell rapidly, so that, even with the sun shining full
on the plateau where I lay, the air was sharp and without
warmth. In the midst of the squall an Eagle soared
grimly past, making for his eyrie away to the north, but
the Dotterel apparently did not see him — at all events, he
continued to run restlessly round his nest. With the
passing of the squall the sun again shone out, and a solar

THE DOTTEREL 233

halo of exceptional dimensions was formed, the sun's
rays striking with prismatic effect on the many ice particles
in suspension in the upper air.

When disturbed the behaviour of the Dotterel was
interesting. He at first declined to approach near to
the camera, running actively round in circles, and feeding
on the many insects that the hill-top harboured. His
sense of hearing must have been extremely acute, for he
several times stopped suddenly, then, retracing his steps,
picked up some small insect which he had heard after
he had passed. Once a large beetle settled near him.
He ran up, pecked at the creature, but missed his mark,
and the beetle took wing, alighting again, however, a
few yards in front of him. Again the Dotterel essayed
to pick up the insect, but again was unsuccessful.
This time he did not pursue the fugitive. He ran over
the heather with great speed, with head bent forward.
Once he tripped and nearly lost his balance on a piece
of heather, but, seeing that he did not look where he
was going, he was singularly steady on his feet. After
an hour or so his circles gradually narrowed, and he
evidently debated whether he could venture on to his
nest with the inscrutable eye of the camera fixed full
upon him. Time after time he approached to within a
few feet of his nest. Then his courage failed him, and he
endeavoured charmingly to decoy the camera from his
eggs, trailing his wings and spreading his tail wide in
his effort. Sometimes he would pretend to brood on
a nest near, constantly rising, when he saw the camera
could not be lured on, and almost at once crouching
motionless in a different position.

Again, at other times, having approached very near
the danger zone, an idea seemed to strike him, and turning
about he ran rapidly away until he was sometimes out
of sight. But evidently he was consumed with anxiety

234 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

when away from his home, for a minute or two afterwards
I could see him running at top speed back towards his nest.
His soft whistle he uttered only when he was very near
to me, and on one occasion he moved off a few feet, and
turning towards the hill-top where I had seen his mate,
whistled three times with a note quite distinctive from
his usual cry, and as near as it can be put in writing,
sounding like " peeu, peeu, peeu." His mate was cither
indifferent, or more probably was out of range at the time,
for during all my visits to the nest I did not once see her
or hear her near. Sometimes I retreated, and allowed
the Dotterel to return to the nest for the space of half
an hour or so.

After he had become more or less used to my presence,
he was in the habit of sitting very close after such an
absence on my part, so that I was able on one occasion to
approach to within a very few feet without causing him
to leave. When, however, his nervousness was such
that he was unable to remain at his post longer, he
jumped from his nest and dragged himself along the
ground in a crouching position with his tail spread to its
greatest extent and his wings beating the heather. He
uttered the while plaintive cries — not whistles — which
were sufficiently distressed to move even the most stony-
hearted.

I had ample opportunities of observing his beautiful
plumage during my long waits. On the crown of his head
the feathers — black at a distance — were seen to be in
reality of a very dark chocolate brown. His ash-grey
neck and upper breast were bounded by a strongly-marked
line of white with an irregular margin of black feathers,
and the lower part of his breast was of a warm red brown
tint. On his back the feathers were tawny, each mar-
gined with white. Sometimes as he ran the wind blew
his tail feathers almost over his back, with curious effect.

THE DOTTEREL 235

After many attempts, when he faltered and turned away
when only a few inches from the nest, the Dotterel at
length settled down on his eggs with the camera staring
full at him, at once crouching low and arranging his eggs
beneath him with the movement characteristic of all birds
when brooding. But after a minute or two he became
restless. Several times in quick succession he opened
and closed his bill, then moved his head and discarded
his crouching attitude. Perhaps he realised that he had
warmed up his eggs sufficiently for them to withstand a
further period of exposure, for he then jumped up and
ran from the nesting site ; but he soon returned, and again
brooded his eggs.

That day two of the eggs were chipped, and twenty-
four hours later I again visited the Dotterel, expecting
to find young in the nest. The father bird was sitting
remarkably lightly, considering the critical period of his
brooding, and, although the two chicks were still actively
hammering against the walls of their prisons, they had
progressed little farther in their process of freeing
themselves. In the third egg there was as yet no sign
of life.

This time I did not attempt to photograph the Dotterel
at first, but moved on across the hill, and soon I saw him
hurry back to his nest and settle down upon it. For a
time I left him, and on my return found him sitting very
closely indeed. Even when disturbed he moved only a
short distance, and soon returned.

The day was without sun, and with mist on the tops,
while a cold wind crossed the plateau from the west. I
noted that the Dotterel, although approaching his eggs
down wind, turned about abruptly as he settled down
in order to brood facing the breeze. It was curious
that the female bird was nowhere to be seen, although I
searched the greater part of the hill.

236 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

The next day bavv a westerly gale, bringing with it cold
rain squalls, with, I believe, snow on the highest ground.
Under such conditions I was reluctant to disturb the
Dotterel, and so it was not until the following day that I
made my way for the last time up the glen leading to his
hill. A strong breeze still shook the birches in the glen,
but the sun was shining clearly. Again I watched the
eaglet for a time on my way and saw him flapping his
white wings in the strong light. Blue Hares rose in front
of me and shot away at great speed, though curiosity
soon mastered alarm, and they sat up on their hind legs
to watch the unexpected visitor. A Grouse with her
brood displayed considerable boldness in her anxiety
for her young, and the air was filled with the twitterings
of Meadow Pipits, most of them with young families in
the neighbourhood.

As I neared the nest there was no sign of the Dotterel,
and, to my disappointment, I discovered that the nest
contained only the single egg which had been without
signs of life two days before. Forty yards away I found
a portion of one of the shells where it had been carried
by the parent bird, but of him and his family there were
no signs.

For several hours I searched for the brood, visiting
the more sheltered hollows, and the clear springs at the
head of the corrie, in the hopes that he might have led
down his young to drink. But of them there was no sign.
An old cock Ptarmigan scrambled along amongst some
rough ground at my feet before flying off, croaking, and
unwilling to leave his mate. Above their nesting rock the
Peregrines circled, rising together into the breeze with
quick motions of their strong wings. Across the loch
beneath the breeze rushed, throwing up white-capped
wavelets on which the sun shone brilliantly. In the green
corrie a number of hinds were feeding, and with them a

THE DOTTEREL 237

solitary calf only a day or two old. He was prettily
marked with dark spots, and his small tail was of a light
fawn colour, contrasting markedly with the rest of his coat.
He was the only youngster amongst the herd, and he often
approached too near the various hinds to whom he did
not belong, being driven off with scant sympathy to his
rightful parent. Somewhere near the Dotterel was shelter-
ing his newly-hatched young, and in the midst of such
wild surroundings I left him to his well-earned quietness
and rest.

An interesting fact in the nesting of the Dotterel is that
it scarcely ever takes wing from the vicinity of the nest
and young, but when it spies the approach of the human
intruder, runs forward over the short Alpine vegetation
with considerable speed, in order to place as great a
distance as possible between itself and its treasures before
being noticed. If on these occasions one lies quite still
for a few minutes, the fugitive gathers together a certain
amount of courage, and gradually makes its way back,
until it is standing inquiringly only a few yards distant.
At such times the white stripe which extends from above
the eye to the back of the head is clearly marked, and at
once serves to identify the bird from the Golden Plover,
though the latter bird is also of considerably stronger
and heavier build.

Numerous instances are on record of Dotterel having
broods of young in late July or even August — a keeper
of my acquaintance found a bird sitting on eggs on
July 2Gth — but I think that the birds rarely nest again
if their first clutches are destroyed by snow in early June.
Should the first hatching have been successful, the young
Dotterel are able to take wing before the end of July, and
shortly after this date the birds, young and old, collect
into large flocks preparatory to the southern migration.
Its journey south is a more leisurely affair than its spring

288 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

flight to its nesting haunts, and it is not till November
and December that it crosses the Mediterranean at Malta.

A few birds remain through the winter on the northern
shores of this sea, and large flocks winter in the hill country
of Southern Palestine. Through south-west Turkestan
it passes on migration and winters in Persia. At this
season it is also seen in Egypt and along the shores of the
Red Sea. Even in the wastes of the Sahara the Dotterel
is seen, but is not found east of the Himalayas or south
of the Equator.

On migration they pass regularly through Italy,
France, and all parts of Germany. It is interesting,
however, to realise that those moving over France have
nested in Norway and Lapland, while those which have
bred on the steppes of Russia and Western Siberia travel
south by way of Turkey and the Crimea.

There is a certain consolation in the fact that, even if
the Dotterel should be temporarily banished from this
country as a nesting species, it will have no difficulty in
re-establishing itself should favourable opportunities occur,
for it is a fairly abundant nesting species on the tundras
beyond forest growth from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

A few, I believe, remain to nest on the higher peaks of
the Alps, but generally its line of flight during the spring
migration takes it much farther north.

It has not been met with in the Faroes nor, curiously
enough, in Iceland or Greenland, though it might be
imagined that many suitable nesting sites would be found
in the latter countries. It may be, however, that the
Dotterel will yet be found to be a summer migrant to these
parts. It breeds in the northern districts of Scandinavia,
also in north Norway and Swedish Lapland, but in Fin-
land is found only in the extreme northern extremity.
Still, I think, it is most numerous amongst the tundras
of Siberia, where it arrives sometimes before the winter's

THE DOTTEREL 239

snows have been dispersed by the sun's heat ; but, so
far as I am informed, it does not nest east of the water-
shed between the Yenesei and Lena Rivers. During its
southern migration the Dotterel makes a stay of a few
days at various locahties along our coast-line. To many
of these visitors man is quite unknown, and their confi-
dence in his good intentions often leads to their destruc-
tion.

In olden days five or six sportsmen used to go out to
a spot which Dotterel frequented, and having discovered
the birds, stretched a net at some distance beyond them.
Then they advanced slowly and without sound, throwing
small sticks or stones to arouse the birds from their dozing.
These fowlers firmly believed that the birds mimicked
whatever they saw, and thus attempted to amuse them by
extending a leg or arm. By such manoeuvres the flock
were gradually guided to the spot where the net was ready
to receive them. As Dotterel made excellent eating,
the fowlers went to considerable trouble to obtain a good
haul of birds.

Since the female Dotterel is the more brightly-coloured
of the two, it may be as well to give a detailed description
of her. The general colour of the upper parts is pale grey-
ish brown, this brown being darker on the wings and tail.
The shaft of the first primary is white, and the outer tail
feathers are broadly tipped with white. Wing coverts,
innermost secondaries, and scapulars edged with rich buff.
Crown and back of the head bluish black ; from above the
eye two white stripes extend, one over each eye, and join
together on the nape. Chin and upper throat white ;
cheeks and ear coverts white, spotted with dark brown.
The greyish brown of the back extends round the neck
across the breast, where it suddenly ends in a white band
faintly margined above and below with black. The
under parts below the breast are rich chestnut, shading

240 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

into nearly black on the belly. The thighs, vent, and
under tail coverts are nearly white. Axillaries and under
wing coverts are pale grey. Bill black, legs and feet dull
yellowish brown, claws black, irides hazel.

The male differs from the female in having the black
feathers of the head and brown grey feathers of the mantle
margined with buff. In his case also the black on the
belly is somewhat less developed.

The female Dotterel weighs from 5 to 5| ounces, the
male only 4 ounces. The length is about 9 inches.

THE OYSTER CATCHER

H^MATOPUS OSTRALEQVS

TrILLEACHAN, GrLIiE-BEiaHDE, GUiLE-BRIDEIN [Gaelic) ; HvlTRIER

PIE [French) ; Austernfischer [Qerman).

A CURIOUS and quite misplaced name has been given to
this handsome bird, and it would be not a little instructive
to discover the origin of its cognomen. As far as I know,
the diet of the Oyster Catcher never embraces an oyster,
and the Irish name given to this bird — ^that of Mussel
Picker — is decidedly more appropriate.

Like another Highland bird, the Common Gull, the
Oyster Catcher would seem to have two distinct habits,
according to the coasts it frequents. On the west coast-line
of Scotland it is found nesting in considerable numbers,
but along the eastern seaboard — at all events, along those
parts with which I am familiar — it is only as a winter
visitor that the Mussel Picker is known. Early in March
the birds leave the river estuaries, and make their way
in pairs up the rivers, moving in easy stages of only a few
miles each day, and marking time should wintry weather
be experienced. Along the rivers Dee and Spey the
Oyster Catcher is found in considerable numbers. On
the Dee it nests four miles from the estuary, and thence
up to a point ten miles west of Braemar and, by river,
close on eighty miles from the North Sea. In like
manner it frequents the Spey and its tributaries almost
to their sources. For instance, in the Forest of Gaick
it is numerous on the flat between Loch an t-Seilich and
Loch Bhrotain, 1500 feet above sea-level. Above this

241 ^

242 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

elevation I have never met with it either nesting or as a
migrant.

A month after their arrival at their nesting sites the
Oyster Catchers commence to construct their nests.
Usually these consist merely of shallow depressions scraped
in the shingle fringing a river or hill stream, and are devoid
of lining or decoration of any sort. Sometimes the dried
droppings of rabbits are collected and are used as a floor
to the nest. At times, however, an Oyster Catcher, more
ambitious or energetic than her neighbours, gathers to-
gether quite a bulky collection of dead heather stems, and
constructs a nest in the true sense of the term.

Flat stretches of heather-clad ground adjoining a river
would seem to be well liked by the Oyster Catcher as
nesting-grounds, but often the nest is at a considerable
distance from any water. Two instances came to my
notice recently of an Oyster Catcher choosing as a nesting
site a field of young oats.

The eggs of this handsome bird usually number three.
They are less pyriform than is generally the case with the
family of waders, and are large for the size of the bird.
Light broAvn in their ground colour, they are spotted or
streaked with spots of dark grey-bro'\\Ti. The birds never
sit closely even when their young are on the point of
hatching. On the approach of danger they sometimes fly
straight off the nest or sometimes run as fast as they can
for some distance before taking wing — it depends on the
individual, I think. They usually leave in silence, but if
one remains too long at their nesting site, and the birds
begin to have fears lest their eggs are becoming too cold,
they then fly restlessly round, uttering an occasional cry.
But with the hatching out of their brood their anxiety
increases a thousandfold, and the birds fly round the
" danger zone " uttering shrill excited cries repeatedly ;
there are, in fact, few members of the bird world which

Nest ok the Ovster-catciikk.

The hills in the background have a fresh coat of snow.

THE OYSTER CATCHER 243

betray so much solicitude on behalf of their families.
Nesting as they do on the banks of burns and rivers,
floods during the month of May not infrequently play
havoc with the eggs of the Mussel Pickers. In the Dee
valley the spate of 1913 must have washed away thousands
of their eggs, and an equal amount of damage was done
on the Spey and its tributaries in 1914. Though the latter
spate was experienced as early as the first week in May,
very few of the birds laid second clutches of eggs, and
were seen consorting together either in pairs or in small
companies.

The Oyster Catchers of the Fame Islands, on the other
hand, would appear to be more determined to rear a family
than their relations of the Spey valley, for as late as
August I have seen them still brooding on eggs.

During the nesting season the Mussel Pickers are the
most restless of birds, and what sleep they require is
snatched at odd moments throughout the day. Through
the whole of the short June night the birds may be heard
calling restlessly from some frequented spot near the river,
or the regular cries of an individual flying unseen over-
head carry far across the glen, wrapped in deep twilight.

During the nesting season the Oyster Catchers are
sociable birds, and it is rare to find a pair nesting quite by
themselves. A favourite site is an island in midstream
on which grows short heather intermixed with pebbles.
Here a number of birds may be nesting in a comparatively
small area. They are quite sensible to the fact that the
river is a barrier to any intruder, and they rarely leave
their nests if a person walks along the river-bank only
fifty yards or so distant.

One of the most curious nesting-places of an Oyster
Catcher was the permanent way of the Highland Rail-
way, the bird laying her eggs actually between one set of
metals. A train passing at full speed over the adjoining set

244 HILL RIRDS OF SCOTLAND

failed to cause her to leave her nest, but she moved off just
before a train passed over her oa\ti line. This remarkable
nesting station was chosen at least two years in succession.

I have seen an Oyster Catcher sitting on her eggs in
a larch wood, and the nest has also been found on the
top of a pine-stump. Before the full complement of eggs
has been laid, both cock and hen remain a short distance
from the nest to guard their future young.

Incubation is a lengthy process with the Oyster Catcher,
for the bird broods close on a month before her eggs hatch
out. Even after the young have chipped the hard shell
a period of quite forty-eight hours may elapse before
they are able to emerge.

A curious and distinctive method of flight indulged in by
the Oyster Catcher during the nesting season has not, so far
as I am aware, been put on record. I am unable to state
definitely that it is the song of the male bird, but incline
to that belief. In the normal flight of the Oyster Catcher,
it should be stated, the wings are moved with great rapidity,
but not infrequently a certain bird, with no apparent
reason, abruptly changes his flight to slow wing beats,
comparable to those of a gull. With each thrust of his
wings he gives utterance to a cry more long drawn out
than the usual whistle, sounding like " kobeeak, kobeeak."
When this particular call is heard it is quite certain that
the bird has altered his flight. Sometimes, after flying for
a few minutes or even less in this fashion, the song — as I
imagine it to be — is ceased, and the normal flight straight-
way resumed.

Often the Oyster Catcher flies only a few inches above
the surface of a river, but when a bridge has to be passed
the birds never, so far as my experience goes, move under
it, though they have to rise quite a considerable distance
to surmount the obstacle.

Often when a number of Mussel Pickers are together

THE OYSTER CATCHER 245

they indulge in what appears to be a game. With their
heads bent low and their handsome red bills almost
touching the ground, the birds follow a leader quickly
over the shingle, giving utterance all the while to sharp
whistling cries. Sometimes after a burst of calling the
birds rise in a body and fly off, still whistling to each other.
At their summer haunts the food of the Oyster Catcher
consists largely of worms, the birds visiting the fields
near their nesting site, especially after rain. The young
would appear to be fed on worms also, for I have seen an
Oyster Catcher making its way rapidly to its nesting
ground, and bearing in its bill a worm of great size, which
dangled earthwards for all the world like a small snake.
Though most demonstrative of birds when the safety of its
young is concerned, the Oyster Catcher rarely attacks
other birds venturing near its nest : a passing Hoodie or
Gull is left in peace, though, should a solitary Green
Plover be nesting anywhere near, she dashes out with no
hesitation and swoops repeatedly at the stranger, which
was ignored by the Mussel Picker, driving it determinedly
far beyond her nesting-ground. It is July before the young
Oyster Catchers are strong on the wing, and by August
the majority of the birds, young and old, take their de-
parture from their nesting-grounds, appearing about this
time on the river estuaries along the coasts. It is
doubtful, however, whether the individuals which pass
the autumn and winter months with us are the birds
which have nested along the rivers of the same district,
for it is probable that a south migration, even if only of
a few score of miles, takes place at the fall of the year.

During the winter months the Oyster Catcher is one
of the most prominent of our shore-feeding birds. Im-
mediately the tide has receded sufficiently to leave
exposed the highest lying of the mudflats. Mussel Pickers
appear on the scene, and at once commence to search for

246 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

food, mussels being favourite morsels. The birds feed
by night as well as during the day : it depends entirely
on the state of the tide.

Northward of our Islands the Oyster Catcher breeds
in the Faroes and plentifully in Scandinavia. It is also
found in Ireland, and even, as far north as Archangel.
During the winter migration it is found in Africa, and
extends as far as India.

Descri'ption. — The bill is long and blunt, coloured of
a beautiful and striking red. Head, neck, mantle, and
wings black. The lower back, rump, and basal half
of the tail white. Breast and abdomen white. Median
and major wing coverts white. Legs and feet pale yellow.
After the autumn moult a band of white extends back-
wards from the chin to join a broad white band reaching
from the ear coverts across the throat. The full-fledged
young have the greater wing coverts, innermost secondaries
and scapulars with pale margins. The longest upper tail
coverts are barred across the tips with black and buff.
The downy young are pale brown above mottled with
grey. On the crown is a black patch. Along the back
run two longitudinal stripes of black, and a loop of black
is present at the hinder end of the body. The under parts
are white.

On one occasion I observed an almost pure white
Oyster Catcher in a certain glen. The bird appeared to
be one of a pair nesting near, but its abnormal colour
evidently rendered it distasteful to the other birds of
its species, for they were inclined to pursue it when it
appeared.

THE SNOW BUNTING

PLECTROPHENAX NIVALIS

Gealag 'n t'sneachdaidh, Gealag-an-t-sneaciid, Eun an-t-sneachda
(Gaelic) ; Podorosghnik (Russian) ; Orlotan de Niege (French) ;
ScHNEEAMMER (German); Snj6titlingur = Snow twitterer (Ice-
landic) ; Snaatool (Sheltand).

Even more than the Ptarmigan is the Snow Bunting a
dweller of the remote and desolate mountain lands, where
there is silence always. The snow-bird makes its home
amongst the great masses of granite scree where is an
entire absence of vegetation, and over which fierce winds
sweep so often, even during the finest season of the year.
On only the very highest of our Scottish hills is the Snow
Bunting to be found during the season of its nesting.
Whereas the Tarmachan rarely hatches off her brood
above the 3500 foot line, I have never known the Snow
Bird to be seen below this level during the months of
summer ; and during those bright and sunny days, when
even on the huge hills the air is still, I have heard him
in full song above the 4000-foot level.

There is a certain glen, buried deep amongst the big
hills, and at its highest point, almost 4000 feet in elevation,
where the Snow Bunting for years nested in security.
Many days of pleasant memory have I spent there with
the small people as my companions. It was in the very
early hours of the morning of a July day that I reached
the cairn of the precipitous hill guarding the glen to the
east. A west wind brought with it soft filmy mist-clouds,
which sped softly over the hill-top, hiding the first rays of
the sun and blotting out all distant view. But at the head

247

248 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of the glen the air was clear, and there was brought up
to me with the breath of the wind the clear musical notes
of the Snow Bird's song. The songster was perched on
the top of a boulder, and he had not repeated his song
many times before he flew down and commenced to pick
up craneflies or " daddy long logs," -svhich are so numerous
on the high hills during the season of early summer.
Having procured a number of these insects, the bird now
flew a short distance to where one of his brood was con-
cealed, and proceeded to feed the expectant youngster.
When I arrived at the spot both birds showed signs of
great anxiety, and the hen fed her young almost under my
feet, endeavouring afterwards to induce it to take wing with
her. But the youngster had evidently left the nest only
a short time before, and was unable to fly more than a
few yards before its feeble wings refused to carry it farther,
and it lighted once more amongst the stones. During
that one July morning of 1909 I had under observation
no fewer than four pairs of Snow Buntings — two with
their young — in this wild glen.

For several years afterwards the corrie welcomed its
Snow Birds with the coming of each spring, but in de-
creasing numbers. And then one year a tragedy —
regrettable, I venture to think, and avoidable — befell
one of the families. A collector, searching the high hills,
discovered the remote corrie and was attracted by the
song of the cock. He was fortunate enough to discover
the nest, and in course of time killed both the parent birds
and removed the nest and eggs. And now, for three years
at least, the song of the Snow Bird is no more heard in the
glen. On days when the sun lighted up the corrie, and
when the air was quiet, I have visited the former haunt
of the Snow Birds, and have sat and waited long amongst
the great stones where the birds formerly sang. But
there has been silence — a silence complete save for the

The Corrie of the Snow Bunting.

THE SNOW BUNTING 249

occasional call of a VVheatear, or the murmuring of the
burn as it threads its way southward, with the summer's
sun reflected back from its waters of wonderful clearness.

One sees many a hill and glen from the country of the
Snow Bunting. Sometimes, away on the western hills,
the mist has lain thick while here the weather was fine
and clear. Sometimes, too, after a dawn of mist and wind,
the air has suddenly been stilled, and the hills one by one
have shown themselves out of the mist sea.

Once when I was listening for the Snow Bird's song,
a remarkable change in the weather was, with scarce
any warning, experienced through the whole of Scotland.
The morning was beautifully fine, scarce a breath of wind
stirred, and the sun shone full on the scree where was the
Snow Bunting's home. But soon a curious layer of grey
cloud overspread the sky. The clouds were at an immense
height, and scarcely dimmed the rays of the sun ; and
even on Ben Nevis, fifty miles distant, every snowfield
stood out distinctly. Away north-westward, at an even
greater distance, the hills of the far north-west — of
Knoidart and of the district bordering on Skye — were
plentifully sprinkled with the snow of a winter which was
now long since passed.

Within the space of less than an hour a rapidly ad-
vancing depression held the whole of the vast area in its
grip. Hill after hill was rapidly dimmed, first in a thin
rain, and then, as the storm gathered, in cold grey mist-
clouds. The wind increased to almost gale force, driving
before it stinging blasts of rain and forcing the clouds low
down on the faces of the hills so recently bathed in bright
smilight. A great darkness settled on the country of the
glens. Lower and lower the clouds were driven.

One hill in particular presented a curiously grand,
arresting appearance. At times it was free of clouds,
from base to summit. Then, in the course of a few

250 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

seconds a great cloud was formed on its sheltered face.
Increasing quickly in size, the cloud canopy blotted out
the hill, until, on reaching the summit, it felt the full
force of the gale and was hurried for miles to leeward,
appearing as an immense column of smoke rolling north-
ward down the glen.

On more than one occasion I have made my way to
the remote glen of the Snow Birds during the hours of
twilight — there is no night on the Scottish hills at mid-
summer— and have listened for the first song of the
Bunting with the strengthening of the dawn.

Once the sky was covered with heavy thundery clouds
during this midnight walk, and the moon shone fitfully
and without power. Not a breath of wind moved in the
glen. From time to time Tarmachan that I disturbed
threw out their croaking calls of alarm into the night,
or shadowy forms of stags moved past. An hour and five
minutes after midnight the Snow Bunting commenced
his song. He was on his favourite field of granite scree,
at a height of close on 4000 feet above sea-level, and he
sang with power and almost incessantly till seven o'clock.
The weather up to this time has been brilliantly fine.
Above the glen the sky was deejD clear blue, and only near
the lochan lying nearly 1000 feet beneath us was a cloud
lingering. Many times did the westerly breeze cross the
lochan, and, gently lifting the cloud, attempt to bear it
down the glen, but it persistently remained ; and then, as
the morning grew older, the wind shifted to the east, and
gradually a white bank of billowy mist slipped quietly
up the big glen, blotting out all the land beneath us. For
some time yet the hill remained clear in the sunlight,
then with the advance of the cloud there ensued a struggle
between the strong rays of the sun and the mist-pall,
before the latter ultimately shrouded even the highest
tops and the sun was finally obscured.

THE SNOW BUNTING 251

A few days later I again visited the glen of the Snow
Bunting. On this occasion the heat was intense, and the
songster was silent. I looked for him with no success,
till at last I discovered him in the vicinity of a rapidly
dwindling snowfield, where he had sought some relief
from the unusually high temperature then prevailing. At
times he would walk out on to the snow's surface, feeding
on the insects which are always to be found on snowfields
on the high hills during the summer months, and would
seek to cool himself by running over the snow with his
head half buried beneath the surface, and throwing up
a furrow as from a diminutive snow-plough. Occasion-
ally he would sing snatches from his song, but did not
return to the scree, where he was usually to be found, until
late in the afternoon.

Associated as it always is with the grandest and most
inspiring surroundings, the song of the Snow Bunting has
had for me a peculiar fascination ; and even if heard
where there were other and more recognised song-birds
to compete, I still think that it would arrest attention.
It is powerful, and can be heard at a great distance ; but
it is singularly elusive, and sometimes it is a matter of
'considerable difficulty to locate the songster, the notes
appearing to come now from one part of the hill , now from
another. It would almost seem as though the bird had
the power of ventriloquy, though the apparent elusive-
ness of the song is due more, I think, to the fact that
the songster in his excitement moves himself about, so
that he faces different points, and also that currents of
air are usually moving over the hills in various directions.
The notes of the Snow Bird are clear and flute-like, but
individual birds vary, and some have more striking songs
than others. Commencing in a low key, the notes — five
or six in number — rapidly rise until the bird throws out
a strong, clear whistle, which at a distance is the only

252 ITTLL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

part of the song audible. This whistle may constitute
the final note of the song, or the bird may finish his effort
with a series of quickly uttered and confused notes. So
far as my experience goes the song is never, except during
wild and stormy weather, uttered on the ground, the
point of vantage being a boulder on the scree near where
the hen is brooding on her eggs.

A Snow Bunting usually has several singing stations
that he visits in turn, and on the favourite of these he
spends the most of his time. Even at a considerable
distance he can be picked up through the glass, for in size
he is larger than a chaffinch, and his strikingly handsome
plumage of black and white renders him a conspicuous
object. I have seen a Snow Bunting, after having sung
for a considerable time, fly out into the air, and with strong
flight make his way to the far side of the glen, there pre-
sumably to continue his singing. At times, too, he will
fly up into the air much in the fashion of the Tree Pipit,
and, with wings spread V-shape, sail back to his boulder
uttering his song.

Once, while watching a Snow Bunting through the
glass, I saw him suddenly rise from the scree and dash
backward and forward in a most curious and erratic
manner before moving off to a farther part of the hill-
side, where, I imagine, his mate must have been sitting.
In contrast to those of his tribe which are seen in our glens
at the approach of winter, the Snow Bunting at his nesting-
ground is a singularly confiding bird, and will allow the
ornithologist to stalk him to within a few yards without
leaving his singing-station. One season, having noted
that a certain individual bird invariably spent the greater
part of his time singing from a little moss-covered knoll,
I erected my camera a few feet off, covered it with
stones, and, having attached 100 feet of tubing to it,
moved a short distance away in the hope that the bird

THE SNOW BUNTING 253

would return and that I might obtain a photograph of
him. But he apparently noticed that his singing-station
had been altered : at all events he did not return to it.
Later in the afternoon, when my companion and I were
lying half asleep in the hot sun, the songster suddenly
appeared and commenced to sing only a few yards from
us. My large camera being unavailable, I stalked the
Snow Bunting with a kodak that I had with me, and suc-
ceeded in obtaining a photograph of the bird in the middle
of its song at short range.

Toward the second week of July the snow-bird utters
his song less frequently, also he extends his range and
moves out on to the highest hill-tops during fine calm
weather. By August, save in exceptional cases, he is
silent.

The nest of the Snow Bunting is placed where it is
almost impossible of discovery, unless the parent birds
are marked down as they visit it either with building
materials or with food for their young. It is built hidden
away amongst the stones, at a depth maybe of well
over a foot, and the hen-bird does not usually take wing
until actually compelled to do so. The eggs number from
five to as many as eight. Their ground colour is of a
bluish green, and they are spotted and blotched with
rich reddish brown, finely striated with deep blackish
brown.

In size they vary from 1'05 to 82 inch in length,
and from "67 to "60 inch in breadth. They repose on a
lining of dried grass-stems and Ptarmigan feathers. The
building of the riest is commenced almost with the melting
of the snows — about May 20th— and the hen begins
to brood during the first week in June. The young are
fed mainly on insects, and both parent birds share in
these duties, the cock varying the monotony of searching
for delicacies with snatches of his song. By the first days

254 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

of July the young have left the nest. They laek the
colouring of their parents, for they are of a uniform brown
colour, and harmonise closely with the boulders where
they are found. Often the eggs, either from cold or from
some other cause, become useless, and in such cases
second broods are sometimes, but rarely I think, reared.
Eggs have been found in the Shetlands as late as July 2.
From the time the hen commences to brood till the young
are able to leave the nest a period of just over four weeks
elapses.

As there is usually an absence of water as well as of
vegetation where the Snow Bunting nests, the young
broods, when sufficiently strong on the wing, are led down
the hill by their parents till they reach some spring or
burn, and remain more or less in its vicinity afterwards.
When a cold and strong wind sweeps over the hill, young
and old crawl into the cracks and chinks between the
boulders, and remain almost dormant, without food, till
summer again comes to the hills. It is consequently of
little use to search even a favourite haunt for the Snow
Bunting unless the conditions are favourable, for in all
probability there will be no sign of their presence. I
have seen a young bird, sheltering in this manner, experi-
ence considerable difficulty in gaining the open as I
passed.

Though I imagine that, owing to the sheltered char-
acter of their nesting situations, the snowstorms which
so often sweep the high hills during June should not
cause the hen to desert her eggs, I have frequently seen
pairs of birds during July which had no broods with them,
and which were not, so far as I could determine, engaged
in nesting. And yet their enemies are few. The hill-fox
I have seen at their wild country. He was basking in
the clear sunlight of an early June morning, after, maybe,
a successful stalk during the hours of darkness, when he

THE SNOW BUNTING 255

captured a hen Ptarmigan as she brooded on her nest.
The stoat is sometimes present, but he usually confines
his attentions to the lower end of the glen. The eagle,
which sails so proudly over the hill- top, has no eye for the
Snow Bunting, and the Peregrine rarely visits the glen.

I have wondered, sometimes, whether the Snow Bird
noticed, as he sang his song with only a few seconds of
interval through the long summer day, the grand panorama
of mountain and glen which stretched away westward
from his hillside, whether his eye noted the great snow-
fields on the hills bordering the distant west coast, and
whether he marked the thunderstorm gathering above
the Spey valley. Did his eye see, on these fine sunny
days, the stags moving up out of the big glen beneath
and making their way up his corrie, cropping the green
grass which carpeted the ground near the wells, and during
the heat of the day seeking the dwindling snow-beds, to
lie lazily on their cool surface till the sun was dipping
towards the hills in the far nor'-west ? Maybe he saw it
all, I think ; and yet, this being his home, he took the
fine sights as a matter of course, for I am sure that the
Snow Bunting is a philosophical bird.

To the Highlanders the Snow Bunting was held as a
sacred thing, along with the Robin, the Wren, and the
Crossbill. A curious tradition is related of this bird. A
hillman went to a certain holy well to draw water.
He found a fire burning there with a brazen pot hanging
over it. The fire was made of dried horse-dung, and the
pot was filled with Snow Buntings. Around the fire were
seated a number of tacharans — the spirits of unbaptized
children — clothed with white. The Highlander requested
that the pot should be given him. His request was re-
fused. It was repeated thrice, with certain forms, and
then the man was allowed to take it, but with a curse
attached to it that " Nach seasadh an coinneamh Shraspe

25G HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

ach aoii bhonaid, gu ruidh tre al dheth na thigeadh na
dlieigh '' (There would not stand in the gathering of
Strathspey but one bonnet for three generations of those
who should come after him.) I believe that this curse
is held to have been fulfilled.

Although for many years the Snow Bunting was sup-
posed to rear her young on the highest Scottish hills, the
first authenticated nest was not found till 1886, and I
doubt whether since that day a dozen nests have been
seen throughout the whole of Scotland. As far back as
1830 MacGillivray puts it on record that he saw a male
Snow Bunting on a certain snowfield on Ben Mac Dhui,
and the record is of interest because of the fact that I
have seen the birds on this very field nearly a century
after. Writing at a still earlier date, Buffon narrates
that " It is observable that the Snow Buntings sleep little
or none in the night, and begin to hop by the earliest
dawn. Perhaps this is the reason why they prefer the
lofty mountains of the north in summer, where the day
lasts the whole season." It is certainly the case that the
Snow Bunting is, without exception, the earliest bird to
commence to salute the coming day, though it does not
continue its song, I think, to late dusk as do the Mavis
and the Robin at lower and more civilised levels. In
Spitzbergen, away beyond the Arctic Circle, the Snow Bird
is the only songster to be heard in the land. Here the sun
is above the horizon throughout the night, and I have
wondered whether there is any sustained pause in the
Bunting's song during the hours when darkness would
prevail in countries lying beyond the rays of the midnight
sun.

The flight of the Snow Bird is usually heavy in com-
parison with that of the other mountain nesting-birds —
the Twite, the Meadow Pipit, and the Wheatear— and to
a certain extent resembles that of the Corn Bunting. The

THE SNOW BUNTING 257

curious hesitating or wildly erratic flights of the male during
the nesting season are, I think, quite peculiar to it.

It is doubtful whether those birds nesting on the high
Scottish hills remain in the glens of their nesting country
throughout the winter ; but towards October flocks of Snow
Buntings appear from the lands lying to our north, and fre-
quent the high tops, till snow drives them to shelter. In
the glens they feed actively on the seeds of the hill grasses,
but they are restless and are difficult to approach, uttering
twittering cries, and, sometimes, their clear whistling call,
as they take wing and make their way to new grounds.
But it is not easy to realise that these birds are of the same
species as those which reared their young in the high
corries, for, curiously enough, the cock Snow Bunting has
more white on his plumage during the summer months,
and on the approach of autumn exchanges many of his
snowy feathers for those bearing a russet tint. Even when
the birds are flocked it is doubtful whether unions formed
during the nesting season are dissolved, for I have seen,
in the dead of winter, a Snow Bunting feed his mate as
they perched with others from the flock on a stack of oats.
It is perhaps during the month of March that the Snow
Bunting harmonises most closely with his surroundings.
During that month the hills are still deep in their snowy
cloak, yet the Snow Birds, the males handsome in their
full breeding plumage, have already penetrated to their
wild and exposed nesting sites, and the cock birds re-
semble closely the snowy wastes over which they flit.

One sees many Snow Buntings along the eastern coast
of Scotland during the late autumn and winter months.
Occasionally a male is noted still in his nesting plumage,
and such an individual is at once a marked object,
however large may be the flock of which he is a
member. During severe weather flocks of Snow Buntings
may be seen passing south along the Aberdeenshire coast.

258 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

After such severe weather these flocks lose their nervous-
ness and become sufficiently confiding to enter the farm-
yards and to share the hens' food.

At the approach of spring they make their way north-
ward, but at times their places may be taken by birds
which have wintered farther south.

The Snow Bunting is even more than the Brambling
a circumpolar bird. It is numerous in Iceland during
the nesting season, and also in Spitzbergen and Novaj^a
Zemlya. In the high north it does not go to the moun-
tains to nest, for the cold, or rather the arctic conditions
which are necessary to it, are to be found at sea-level,
and its nest at times is just above the reach of the tide. A
most strange nesting site, and one from which omens might
well be drawn by the superstitious, was the bosom of a
dead Esquimo child. In the far north, too, the Great
Pied Mountain Finch, to give it its earliest name, is said to
perch on trees.

The southward range of the Snow Bunting is not so
extensive as that of the majority of migrants. Even in
England it is by no means common. In the south of
France it is found only during very severe winters, and
has also been chronicled from the Azores and Africa.
Many of the birds nesting within the arctic circle in Russia
migrate south over that vast country, halting only in the
Crimea.

Description. — During the nesting season the cock in
his handsome dress is clad entirely in white with the
exception of the mantle, shoulder, tail, and the last two-
thirds of the primary feathers, which are black. His bill,
legs, and feet are black also.

The female at this time is of a subdued brown, marked
with darker brown and black, with the exception of the
secondaries, which are white.

In winter plumage the male has the centre of the

THE SNOW BUNTING 259

forehead and crown dark rusty brown, bordered with
light grey on either side. The nape is dirty white, marked
with yellowish brown. Back and scapulars black, broadly
margined with dull, reddish brown. Primaries black,
edged with dirty white. Secondaries and wing coverts
white.

A broad band of chestnut passes across the chest.
Under parts white.

While the feet remain black throughout the year, the
colour of the bill changes to a dark yellow on the approach
of winter.

THE DIPPER OR WATER OUZEL

CINCLUS BRITANNICUS

GoBHA-DUBH, GoBHA-uiSGE, Feannag-tjisge [Gaelic). Local
names : — Water Cuow, Water Piet, Kingfisher.

Far up the hill burns which run concealed, maybe, till
after midsummer's day, beneath the snow tunnels they
have fashioned for themselves during the winter months,
the Water Ouzel makes its home.

But it is not along the hill burns alone that the Dipper
is to be found. Every Highland river — the Spey, the Dee,
the Tay, to name only a few at random — harbours many
Water Ouzels, but when the flat lowland country is reached
one may look in vain for this cheery water spirit, which
seems to spend quite the half of its life in the depths of
these dark pools and swift flowing shallows which make
up our Scottish waters.

One should owe a debt of thankfulness to the Dipper
if only for the fact that he is one of the few, the very few,
of our birds to utter his song during the dead of winter,
and how melodious his song is those who have listened
to it can testify, though one comes across many to whom
it is a thing unknown. When the burns are held by the
frost, and when the rivers are well-nigh choked by float-
ing ice, the Dippers migrate seawards, and one sees many
congregated near the estuaries of the larger streams, where
they are actively engaged in searching for food in water
itself almost touching the freezing-point. But in early
spring, at the first slackening of the frost, the Water
Ouzels betake themselves to their upland nesting haunts,

2C0

THE DIPPER 261

for tliey are among the first of the hill birds to make their
nests. In March I have watched a pair of Dippers carry-
ing green moss to their dome-shaped nest, but this was
in a sheltered situation, and some of those birds, having
their home among the high hills, do not commence to
brood till the beginning of May.

During the early days of June, when big fields of snow
still lingered in the great corries above, I saw a Water
Ouzel with its bill full of food flying quickly up a hill
burn, to where it rushed down the steep hillsides in a series
of waterfalls, brilliantly white in the strong rays of the
sun. With a little difficulty I found the nest. For a
Dipper's it was remarkably small, and was built on a
narrow ledge of rock drenched with spray from the fall
above. The nest contained a brood of half -grown young,
which allowed the parent birds little leisure time to them-
selves. The nesting site was situated about 2000 feet above
sea-level, and away down in the big glen beneath lay a
deep loch, the source of a broad hill stream. It was here
that the Dippers obtained most of the food for their young,
making many excursions up the steep rise of a couple
of hundred feet which lay between the loch and the
nesting site.

There are few objects which harmonise more closely
with their surroundings than the nest of the Water Ouzel.
Indeed, even after the exact spot has been pointed out
there is sometimes difficulty in realising that the large,
rounded growth of moss is indeed the home of a family of
young birds. Sometimes the nest is placed only a foot or
so above the usual water level, and then disaster overtakes
it should a day's rain bring down the burn in spate, but
these catastrophes occur in reality less frequently than
might be supposed. Nesting sites of the Dipper are various.
Often the nest is made in some rock behind a waterfall,
where the birds have actually to fly through the water in

262 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

order to reach their young. Sometimes a stone in mid-
stream is the site chosen, and occasionally the branch of a
tree. A curious occurrence came to my notice recently. A
fisherman discovered a Dipper's nest built on a stone and,
imagining it to be merely a lump of moss, picked it up. On
discovering his mistake he set the nest down again, but
not quite in its original situation, and when I saw it the
birds were still in possession, though it seemed that a
strong wind might well blow it into the bed of the burn,
as it was now entirely without foundation.

The eggs of the Water Ouzel are pure white in colour.
From four to six is the usual number found in a clutch.
The parent bird doing duty on the nest is a close sitter,
and when disturbed flies rapidly away, uttering its alarm
cry. After a fortnight of brooding the young are hatched,
and another three weeks or so of unstinted feeding sees
them able to leave the nest. If they are disturbed before
they are ready to fly they will at times drop into the water,
for they are able to dive and swim while as yet lacking the
power of flight.

When very young they are remarkable in that they
have the fleshy gape on the sides of the mouth dilated to
an extent not observable in other birds ; the inside of the
mouth, too, is very beautifully coloured.

The Water Ouzel is said to pair for life. Two broods
are sometimes reared in the course of a season and possibly
even three at times. I doubt, however, whether the
second brood is a regular occurrence in the Highlands.
Some years ago I came across a nest of the Dipper on
which a Spotted Fly Catcher had built her nest. As
far as could be seen — it was late in the season when I
found the double nest — both birds had hatched off their
broods safely, but the Fly Catcher had left behind an
infertile egg which served to identify her nest. There is a
certain hill burn, which I know well, where the Water

THE DIPPER 263

Ouzel is to be seen constantly at an elevation of over 3500
feet above sea-level. I am doubtful whether the birds nest
at this great altitude ; they probably rear their young in
a waterfall 500 feet below, but even here they are beyond
the range of the Red Grouse and have the Ptarmigan
as their companions. They evidently find good feeding
on the higher ground. Here the burn is a succession of
sandy pools — an ideal spawning ground of salmon or trout
one would say, yet fish are unknown, for the falls below
offer an insurmountable barrier, and thus the food of the
Dippers must consist of aquatic insects.

Amongst anglers in general the Water Ouzel is blamed
for much damage done by it to the ova of trout and salmon,
but such blame cannot, I think, be justified from the facts.
Some time ago five Dippers were killed on a certain river
at a season when the trout and salmon had just spawned,
in order to discover whether the birds had been feeding
on the ova of these fish. These investigations were en-
tirely favourable to the Water Ouzels. In no instance
were ova found in the birds, only water beetles and aquatic
larvae. Still to those who look only superficially, the mere
fact that the Water Ouzel is so often to be seen swimming
and diving near the spawning beds of salmon is sufficient
to condemn the " Water Crow."

Though the Dipper is so absolutely at home on the
water it never dives in the true sense of the word. It
flies out into the middle of a burn or river and then
plunges in like a Guillemot, slightly opening its wings as
it does so. Under water it is able to move rapidly,
using its wings to propel itself to the different parts of
the pool it may visit in quest of food. However pro-
tracted its stay under water, its plumage remains dry
and silky, and is apparently impervious to wet, though
this is not the case with the newly flown young.

The bird is lighter than water, and so it is not easy to

264 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

explain by what means it succeeds in holding itself at
the bottom of the pool. It has been asserted that it
clings to the pebbles with its feet, or that it holds itself
down with rapid movements of its wings. Certainly the
claws of a young Dipper are remarkably sharp, as I can
testify from having handled a bird which had just left its
nest for the first time. I have watched a Water Ouzel
as it walked from the bank into a hill burn, and I must
say that under water it appeared to move along the bottom
with equal proficiency to that displayed by it on the bank.
The Dipper seems to be unaffected by the most intense
cold, and when the temperature is many degrees below the
freezing-point may be seen disporting itself in mid-stream,
taking short flights over the surface of the pool, and then
alighting and splashing the water in every direction.

The Water Ouzel occupies an interesting place amongst
British birds in that it is the sole representative of its
family in these Islands. The Cinclididse, the tribe to
which it belongs, are an American family, resembling
the Thrushes superficially in their structure. The flight
of the Dipper is strong and swift, to be compared to that
of the Starling, though I doubt whether it could be sus-
tained over long distances without effort. When alarmed
both birds give utterance to a sharp note of alarm,
sounding like " tzeet, tzeet," and bob up and down on
the stone where they happen to be standing. The
Water Ouzel is a bird of peace, and it is rare for it to
pursue other birds venturing near its nesting site. The
only instance in which I saw a Dipper take the offensive
was when it chased a Sandpiper — newly arrived from the
south — from the vicinity of its nest.

On one occasion I had a Dipper's home under observa-
tion for an hour, and during this time the nest was visited
only six times by the parent birds with food. On their
visits to the nest I noticed that the Water Ouzels clung

THE DIPPER 265

to its edge for only a fraction of a second and inserted
their supply of food into the mouth which happened to
be thrust farthest out of the nest. On June 29th I again
visited the nest of the Gohha-duhh. As I looked into it
one of the birds which was waiting expectantly near the
entrance to be fed flew out, and attempted to swim
against the strong current, propelling itself strongly for-
ward with its wings. It was, indeed, remarkably at home
in the water and dived repeatedly, sometimes swimming
three-quarters submerged in order to escape my notice.
I succeeded in capturing it, and, after a considerable
amount of persuasion, was able to secure one or two photo-
graphs.

Once it succeeded in eluding me and flew out into the
main stream. Just below where it lighted there was a
heavy rush of water, and into this the unfortunate small
bird was dragged. It disappeared in the foam of the
rapid, and for some time I watched in vain for it to emerge
on the surface of the pool below. At length, however,
I saw it on the bank, somewhat bedraggled, but full of
life, flirting its small tail and giving that curious jerking
action so distinctive to the Water Crow. For a time it
stood there, then waded out into the pool, where it re-
mained standing just within its depth, seemingly unwilling
to risk another fight with the waters. A moss-grown
rock at the water's edge suggested the possibility of
concealment, and under this the small Dipper crept, to
wait the passing of danger and the reappearance of its
mother.

The Dipper takes rather a longer period than most birds
of its size to bring its brood to a state of maturity, and I
have known of the young being still in the nest six weeks
after the eggs were laid. After the nesting season the
birds extend their range somewhat, but can never be
said to be migratory in the true sense of the word.

266 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

It is not only amongst the mountainous districts of
our Islands that the Water Ouzel has its home. In Scandi-
navia it is numerous, and I have seen it on the hill streams
of the Maritime Alps and of the Pyrenees. It is found in
Corsica and Sardinia, and extends to North- West Africa
and Asia.

Description. — Upper part of head and hind neck uniform
sooty brown colour, the rest of the upper parts dark grey
mixed with black. The major wing coverts are black
with blue grey margins. Underneath, from the bill to
the breast, the Dipper is pure white, and beyond this is a
patch of chestnut which extends backwards to the fore-
part of the abdomen. Flanks dark grey, abdomen black.
Under tail coverts dark grey, tipped with brown.

In the mature young the under parts are cream coloured,
the feathers being margined with grey. Upper parts
greenish grey marked with black. The colouring of the
adult is assumed with the second moult.

THE CRESTED TITMOUSE

PARUS CRISTATUS SC'OTICUS

Mksange huppee (French) ; Haubenmeise {German) ;
CiNGiA COL ciUFFO (Italian).

A SMALL iierson indeed, and but little known even amongst
those who penetrate to his nesting site, is the Crested Tit-
mouse. He is one of the few, the very few, birds that are
found only in one or two favoured situations in the High-
lands of Scotland, and yet in these situations are fairly
plentiful in their numbers. I believe that the Crested Tit
is unknown in any county of Great Britain south of Inver-
ness-shire, and even in that county the ornithologist may
look long and carefully without seeing a single representa-
tive of the species. For this little bird buries himself
amongst the pine woods where, for his companions, he
has the stag and the blackcock. Artificially created wood-
lands are not to his liking, for here he searches in vain for
those tree stumps, half hollow and crumbling with age,
where he makes his nest. And so it comes about that the
Crested Tit is found only in the ancient forests of Scots
pine, which are the relics of the great Caledonian forest
extending in former times from Fort William on the west
to Aberdeenshire on the east.

It would obviously be ill-advised to give publicity to
the chief nesting haunt of the species, though I am afraid
the district, as it is, abounds with collectors. Still I may
put it on record as an interesting fact that in the forests
of Mar and Ballochbuie, where one would expect to see
something of the birds, they are entirely absent. As a

267

268 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

matter of fact I doubt whether the total length of the
nesting ground of the Crested Tit exceeds fifteen miles,
while in width it is only four or five miles. To other parts
of Scotland he is a rare or accidental visitor only. On the
Continent the Crested Titmouse is widely distributed,
but it is of a slightly different variety to our British repre-
sentative.

I made my first acquaintance with the Crested Tit-
mouse on a certain day early in May. After twenty-four
hours of heavy rain the wind had veered round to the
north and an extraordinarily severe snowstorm for the
time of year had swept over the hills.

To reach the district where the Crested Tits were nest-
ing it was necessary for me to cross a watershed where the
road reached the 2000 feet level. Leaving the valley
of the Dee with a northerly wind and heavy showers
of rain I found that at the head of the Don conditions
resembling those of mid- winter prevailed. The wind now
brought with it blinding snow squalls, and the hills were
heavily coated. At Cockbridge the road mounts rapidly
up the hill face, and here the snow was lying to a depth
of from three or four feet, the storm experienced having
been actually the heaviest of the whole w^inter. Under
the circumstances further progress w^as impossible, and a
detour of at least seventy miles was necessary. Even then
snow lay on the road, though not in quantities sufficient
to retard the progress of the car. It was tow^ards after-
noon that we approached the country of the Crested Tit-
mouse. Away before us there stretched the range of
the great Cairngorm hills, heavily mantled in white. Over
their slopes the wdnd, which had now backed to the -west,
was blowing with great force, sweeping up before it the
powdery snow and hurrying it along in dense clouds that
rose many feet from the ground and rendered the summits
of the hills blurred and indistinct. The scene resembled

At thk nestinc, hollow ok the Crested Titm.u se.

THE CRESTED TITMOUSE 269

more a cold January afternoon than a day in the " merry
month."

In the big pine forest there was shelter from the wind
and the air was almost mild. Deer crossed the road before
us — to be rapidly lost to view among the trees — and Grey
Hens rose noiselessly from the heather. For some
distance we walked through the pines, and then the
stalker, who was leading, pointed out to us a little clump
of trees rather younger than the surrounding woodland,
where the Crested Titmouse had her nest. The nesting
site, we found, was at the stump of a tree long since dead,
and the nest was placed in a hollow not more than three
feet from the ground. The eggs were three in number,
and the nest was skilfully made of moss, rabbit down, and
deer's hair. It was interesting, too, to note that the moss
was of a different species to that which grew on the ground
beneath the tree. The bird, unfortunately, had deserted,
so a search was commenced for a second nest. This was
discovered before long in a dead pine standing more or
less by itself amongst long heather, and the nest was
placed almost at ground level in a hollow in the trunk.
The mother Titmouse sat very closely and allowed her-
self to be inspected as she brooded on her eggs. It was
indeed with some difficulty that she could be induced to
leave the nest, and, when she did so, she flew only a few
yards into some small trees and flitted restlessly from
branch to branch, though, curiously enough, she uttered
no alarm cry.

A third nest, discovered a little later on, was in a
hollow about a foot from the ground, and so dark was the
hole that matches had to be lit in order to discover the
contents of the nest.

It was with some interest that we found that, in this
instance, the mother bird had already hatched her eggs,
the nest containing a number of very young babies who

270 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

had sense only to open their large mouths in a blind appeal
for food. Now it was that we heard for the first time the
alarm note of the Crested Titmouse. The main point that
strikes one, I think, is the softness of these calls compared
with the cries of the other members of the Tit family. The
notes are a low musical twittering, reminding me of a part
of the song uttered by a certain canary of my acquaintance ;
they lack entirely the harshness of the cries of the Blue
or Great Tits. I have mentioned that, in order to see into
this nest, a match was lighted and held in the hollow. No
more was thought of the incident at the time, but a fort-
night later the stalker and I revisited the spot to see what
progress the young had made. A charred and blackened
stump was all that remained of the former nesting site !
In a way that it is impossible to account for the match had
set alight the crumbling wood, and thus a most pathetic
and greatly to be regretted tragedy had been enacted
in the quiet forest. Of the young there was no trace ;
the nest was burnt almost to a cinder, and their small
corpses had been effectually cremated.

On May 28th I revisited the one nest where things had
gone well with the owners, and found that the family had
just been hatched out. The tree was well placed for
photographing the parent birds near the nest, and as
they appeared to be quite confiding I focussed a certain
branch of the tree where they were in the habit of
alighting and waited for events. At the moment when
I erected the camera both the parent birds were away
searching for food, and when they returned to find the
formidable apparatus fixed up in front of their house
they were extremely surprised. The cock was much the
bolder of the two. He perched fearlessly on the nesting
tree, and scolded the camera and the photographer con-
tinuously until he became wearied and his voice went.
In the meanwhile the hen flitted anxiously around, hold-

THE CRESTED TITMOUSE 271

ing in her mouth a succulent caterpillar which she ham-
mered repeatedly on a branch whenever it showed signs
of protest. She very rarely uttered her alarm cry.
From time to time both birds flew off together as though
to discuss the next move, but soon returned with undu-
lating flight. After standing for a time on the dead tree
in which his nest was situated, the cock often moved off
to a small fir near, balancing himself, with legs planted
wide apart, on the topmost branches or searching actively
for the small " aphis " on which the birds seemed to feed
very largely. Sometimes the bird summoned up suffi-
cient courage to drop down and cling on to the edge of
the hollow in which his young were waiting expectantly
to be fed, but he would not actually enter the hole while
I was there.

When I moved off a little way, however, both birds
entered the nest fearlessly, taking small notice of the
camera. On one occasion they seemed to be accompanied
by a Coal Tit, the latter probably having been attracted
to the scene by their anxious cries. It was only occasion-
ally that the cock appeared with food while I was at the
tree, and then he soon got tired of holding the grub in
his beak and made a meal of it, cleaning his bill carefully
on a branch after his repast. I noted that when the hen
returned from a foraging expedition and found that I had
taken up my position near the tree, she at once flew off
to search for her mate, evidently relying upon him for
support and for guidance.

If I remained for long at the nest the birds, especially
the female, drooped and quivered their wings, from anxiety,
I think. In appearance the two birds closely resembled
each other. Each had the same prominent crest, which
appeared to be raised or depressed at will. Each, too,
had the same black collar and tie and the same grey head.
It was only occasionally that the male Titmouse uttered

272 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the two high notes which the Coal and Great Tits make
use of continually at the beginning of their alarm call.

A pair of Redstarts had their nest near to the hollow
tree, and sometimes appeared to watch the scene with
anxiety. Life there was in plenty in the forest. From
a tree near the clear wild song of a Missel Thrush was
thrown out over the wood. Nearer at hand a shy Willow
Warbler — that bird of most graceful and delicate appear-
ance— was singing to himself in melodious, warbling notes
as he fluttered among the pine needles in his quest for
insects. At times the less melodious, yet interesting,
song of the Tree Pipit came from one of the higher firs,
the bird often leaving his perch to flutter up into the air
and soar earthward in characteristic flight. At times
also Black-headed Gulls crossed overhead, uttering their
sharp call notes, and a Goosander flew rapidly northward,
following the course of the burn. Near by was a very
old dead stump fifteen feet or so in height, where a pair
of crested titmice had their nest for several years in suc-
cession ; but though the working of the birds was visible
on the trunk, the nesting site was unoccupied. It should
be mentioned that, unlike the Blue or Great Tits, the
Crested Titmouse often fashions a hole for itself in a
decayed tree. It is thus of considerable importance to
the small worker that the wood should be in the right
condition. A tree which is crumbling is discarded after
a test of its suitability has been made, also one which is
too hard for the small bill to drive its way into. One
often comes across such commencements of nesting sites
in the forest ; sometimes the tree has been abandoned
after considerable impression has been made on the wood.

It is during April that the new nesting hollows are
formed or former ones refurnished, and the eggs are laid
during the first week of May. A stalker told me that
on one occasion he noticed that the hen Titmouse laid

THE CRESTED TITMOUSE 273

two or three eggs, then disappeared entirely from the
nesting site, and returned more than a week later to com-
plete her clutch. Althovigh several degrees of frost had
been experienced in the interval, every egg was hatched
successfully. The fact is of interest, for I have known
precisely the same thing occur in the case of the Long-
tailed Tit. The eggs of the Crested Titmouse generally
number from four to seven. In shape and in colour they
closely resemble those of the Blue Tit, but are, I think,
a trifle larger in size. On a white ground colour spots
of a red brown are implanted, the spots being more
numerous at the large end of the egg. In size they
measure about "63 by "49 of an inch.

In addition to their alarm note, uttered when nesting,
the Crested Tits throughout the year call to each other
in a shrill piercing whistle. This whistle is pitched, I
think, in a higher key than the same note of the Coal Tit,
but has a lesser volume of sound.

Although the food of the Crested Tit consists mainly
of insects in their mature or larval forms, it is fond of
fat, resembling the Coal Tit in this taste. When a hind
is shot in the forest, and is for some reason or other
left out for a few hours after being " gralloched," the
Crested Tits from the neighbourhood congregate rapidly
and feed greedily on the fat surrounding the animal's
kidneys, picking them clean in a short space of time.
Also when deerskins are hung up outside the larder the
Tits may be seen actively searching for pieces of fat.

In spite of the frequent excursions into its country of
egg-collectors and gunners — I am told that a representa-
tive of the British Museum shot a number of the birds
in a certain forest recently — the Crested Titmouse appears
to be holding its own in its remote strongholds. Its
hardiness is great, and it never, even during the most
severe winter weather, leaves its native forests, where it

274 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

is within sight of the great hills which harbour in their
corries fields of eternal snow.

On June 9th I visited the family of the Crested Tits
for the last time. For some days wild weather had been
experienced in the glen, and on the high hills snow had
been driven fast before a biting nor'-easter. On peering
into the nesting hollow I saw that the youngsters were
full fledged — to my knowledge they were fourteen days
old — and one, standing on his fellows, seemed to be de-
bating a sortie into the outer world. Soon the hen bird
appeared, with her mouth crammed full of food for the
small people who were expectantly awaiting her arrival,
and now I looked for the coming of the cock — the small
and courageous husband who used to stand on the tree
a few feet from me and curse me roundly for daring to
disturb the peace of his home. But of him there was
no sign. At times, indeed, the hen went off for a few
moments as though to find him and to seek his support,
but she returned alone after each search. Suddenly her
soft scolding notes ceased abruptly, and looking skywards
I saw a Kestrel soaring in circles at a great height. His
keen eye was searching the wood, and he appeared to be
quite heedless of my presence. More than likely he had,
on a previous visit, snatched away the small father of
the family. It seemed to me as I watched that there was
a certain pathetic air of expectancy about the survivor.
She seemed to be waiting for her mate, and to be at a loss
to know what had happened to him — a tragedy which
might touch many a heart. And yet in Nature such
tragedies are of daily, hourly occurrence.

To us, possessing as we do a consciousness and a memory
retentive of sorrow, it almost appears that Nature is
without compassion, merciless. And yet if we ponder
the matter it will appear to us in a different light. Though
Death is everywhere showing his hand in the universe,

THE CRESTED TITMOUSE 275

and life preys upon life, yet one finds there no sorrows
save those which are fleeting ones. The joy of life is over
all living things. Half an hour after the narrowest of
escapes from the Eagle the Grouse will be crowing loudly
and cheerily ; half an hour after being pursued by the
Sparrow Hawk the Song Thrush will be singing happily.
And only with consciousness and a striving to under-
stand the why and the wherefore does pain come.

With the passing of the Kestrel the Crested Titmouse
recommenced her scolding, and with such effect that she
soon gathered round her sympathetic neighbours. A
passing Coal Tit could scarcely have shown more anxiety
even if its own young had been in danger, and a Chaffinch
called excitedly. As the mother Titmouse refused to
come near the nest while I was standing by, I took what
shelter a neighbouring juniper bush afforded, and watched
her from there. After a time she gathered courage suffi-
cient to light on the dead branch the cock had used as a
perch, and then at least half a dozen times flew down
and held on to the edge of the hollow before she could
bring herself to enter with the food she carried in her bill.
For a moment she was out of sight, attending to the
sanitary arrangements in the nest, then she emerged and
flew off in quest of more food. As it was impossible to
obtain satisfactory photographs of the young in the nest,
I removed the least active and set him upon a branch.
It was not an easy matter to induce him to hold on to
the wood with his small feet — he much preferred my own
fingers — but after a certain amount of patience I succeeded
in getting one or two photographs of him.

A second member of the family I removed for the same
purpose was more fully developed, and determinedly
refused to sit for his photograph, calling loudly and shrilly,
and, immediately he had an opportunity, flying off strongly
to a neighbouring pine. The moment he started his flight

276 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the mother bird flew up and escorted her child, encour-
aging him as she did so. I removed a third youngster,
but with no better results ; and now the two remaining
members of the family emerged from their nest of their own
accord and took short, feeble flights, barely rising above
the surface of the heather. At first they were unable to
rise sufTiciently to settle on the pine branches, but it was
instructive to notice how with every flight their wing-
power strengthened, until it was not always easy to dis-
tinguish them from the parent bird, who escorted them on
each of their excursions. Even after the last of her brood
had left the nest she did not seem altogether to realise that
this was the case, and several times alighted on the dead
tree, looking down towards the empty nest with her bill full
of food. In the young birds the crest was showing, though
it was not so prominent as that of their mother, and their
black collars were also noticeable. I examined the nest,
and found that it was built almost entirely of deer's hair
and rabbit down, the moss, if any had originally been
present, having dried up and being invisible as one looked
down from above.

The sun shone warmly among the pines as I took my
leave of the Crested Tit family, and I left them with the
hope that things would prosper with them, and that the
marauding Kestrel would not pass again that way.

Description. — The male and female Crested Titmouse
differ only slightly from each other, and there is no sea-
sonal change of coloration.

Length, 4*5 inches. In the middle the crown feathers
are elongated and tipped with white, forming the con-
spicuous crest which can to a certain extent be lowered
or raised at will. The forehead, the sides of the head, and
neck are white. A black line runs backwards from the
eye and downwards, partly encircling the ear coverts.
A second black band runs from the nape downward, and

Young Crested Titmouse.

A BABY crested TiT AFTER ITS FIRST FI.IC.HT.

THE CRESTED TITMOUSE 277

terminates in a well-marked black gorget covering the
foreneck and throat. Upper parts grey brown. Wings
and tail marked by grey. Inner secondaries have pale
tips. Breast and abdomen white, flanks and under tail
coverts buff. Legs and toes lead- coloured. The female
has the crest not quite so conspicuous, but otherwise
closely resembles the male. In young birds the crest
is smaller and the upper parts darker and greyer. Cheeks
white with buff tinge, under parts duller.

THE SANDPIPER

TRINGA HYPOLEUCA

LuATnARAN, LuATHARAN-GLAS, Cajia-lt5bach (OacUc) ; Chevalier gxjig-
NETTE {French) ; Flitss-ttfer laufer [German). Local names : —
White-breasted Webt-weet, Willy Wicket, Water Junket,
Fiddler, Summer Snipe.

One of the most pleasing sounds which herald the advance
of spring is the tuneful, whistling call of the Sandpiper.
It is mid-April before these birds of passage arrive on our
coasts, and almost immediately make their way up the
rivers and hill-burns where they have their nesting sites.

They find a smiling country awaiting them. On the
river-banks birches are putting forth their foliage of that
tender green which they retain till Midsummer's Day is
past. The Oyster- Catchers are already at their summer
homes, and are occupied with the commencement of
household duties when the Sandpipers arrive. The
Goosanders are brooding in their dark nesting hollows,
and the young of the Mallard have by now seen the day.
Like the Oyster- Catchers, the Sandpipers make the journey
up the rivers in easy stages. They are already paired
when they arrive at that particular part of the stream
where last season they successfully reared their brood.
One such site I know well. To the north the ground
slopes up abruptly, shutting out the cold, snow-laden
winds off the high hills from the dwelling-place of
the Summer Snipe. When the Sandpipers reach their
destination the river is running full with the melting of
the snows.

One can always distinguish this snow-water or " snaa

278

THE SANDPIPER 279

bree " : it is rarely peat-coloured or muddy, but is won-
derfully clear even when the river is in spate. Before the
Sandpipers came no sound was heard on the river here
save the whistle of a passing Oyster- Catcher or the call
of a Golden Plover, but now there is music everywhere,
for not one pair only, but numbers of Sandpipers, flit
backward and forward over the rushing water. They
move, it seems, only the fraction of an inch above the
stream with a flight that is grace personified. They cannot
thrust their wings downward in order to obtain their
driving force — if they did so they would be immersed in
the water — so they hold them V-shape above the head,
and the wing-beat is only half completed. This V-shape
formation is especially apparent just before the birds
alight on some rounded stone projecting above the
water's surface. One April day I went down to the
nesting site of the Sandpipers after a time of rain and
wintry weather. The morning sun fell on the birches,
turning their half-formed leaves the colour of silver, and
the trees gave unstintedly of their aroma, so that the air
was heavy and perfume-laden. The sky this morning
was of an extraordinary clearness, and every snowfield
on the higher hills was distinct. The Sandpipers were
demonstrative, and constantly crossed and recrossed the
river, toying and playing with each other. When they
alighted, they repeatedly wagged their tails up and down
in the manner so characteristic to them ; but they were
restless, and it was not long before they again started out,
full of the joy of life and of springtide. Gradually black
clouds spread across the sky, and soon a tropical down-
pour of rain and hail ruffled the surface of the water.
The Sandpipers, their ardour considerably damped, stood
about disconsolately, while a Stock Dove, which I had
disturbed from brooding her two callow young in a rabbit
iDurrow at the top of a sandbank, flew anxiously round,

280 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

eager to return to her young. Soon the storm passed,
and the sun once more shone out and the air was clear.
To the west the hills appeared again, but within the
space of an hour they had been clad in a white coating
of hail, the strips of recently-burnt heather standing out
conspicuously by reason of their greater whiteness.

On every mountain loch up to 2000 feet above sea-
level the Sandpiper is found. One such loch sees many
pairs with the return of each nesting season. A road
winds its way up the glen to a solitary shooting lodge,
and twice daily a motor car, bearing the mails to and
from the post-office, thirteen miles distant, passes along it.

One season, towards the end of May, a Sandpiper
made her nest within a few yards of the road. Although
her eggs were laid amongst long heather, where she was
hidden from sight so long as she sat closely, the Summer
Snipe never mastered the suspicions which took posses-
sion of her at the approach of the car. Invariably she
left her nest, and, moving to a little clearing a few feet
away, stood expectantly on the watch, a charming and
conspicuous object. If the car was driven past her with
no slackening of speed she remained standing there, but
if the driver slowed down she at once rose and flew down
to the loch-side in silence. Even after she had been
brooding close on three weeks, and her eggs were on the
point of hatching, she showed the same restlessness, but
notwithstanding the number of occasions on which she
was disturbed, she hatched off her brood safely.

In contrast to her behaviour was the attitude adopted
by a second Sandpiper nesting above the loch on a burn-
side. On the occasion when I was shown her nest she
remained on her eggs even when I watched her at the
distance of only a few feet ; she crouched low on the
ground, and evidently trusted to her harmonisation with
her surroundings. This particular bird hatched out her

THE SANDPIPER 281

brood one cloudless morning of June when the burn
beside her nest was running low and clear, and at once
became the most anxious, agitated mother when I ap-
proached the spot where the chicks were lying concealed.
Both she and the cock bird hovered near with shrill whist-
lings, endeavouring to decoy me from the neighbourhood,
and arousing alarm amongst all the bird world in the
neighbourhood.

One rarely finds Sandpipers' eggs before the middle
of May, nor after the third week in June, for the birds
are regular in their nesting. There is reason to suppose
that they pair for life, for every spring they return to the
same part of a river or glen. In one instance a Sandpiper
was found nesting in exactly the same spot for seven
years. When disturbed the hen Sandpiper usually runs
for some little distance from her nest before taking wing,
and, if she has been brooding for some time, gives utter-
ance to a long-drawn plaintive whistle, uttered in a very
high key, as she stands on some stone watching anxiously
the intruder at her nesting site.

The exact vertical range of the Sandpiper in the High-
lands is doubtful. On the lochs of the Cairngorm hills
it is absent, though there are several such lochs situated
at, or just over, the 3000 feet line, where one might expect
to meet with it. On the Dee it is found nesting as far as
the lower end of the Garbhchoire, a little over 2000 feet.
Mr. Harvie Brown places it on record that he has in two
successive seasons noticed a pair on Ben Chaorin, 2700 feet
above the level of the sea, and I have sometimes seen the
birds only a few hundred feet lower. Unlike the Dunlin, it
does not care for peaty lochans, but prefers clear lochs with
dry ground surrounding them, or rushing hill-burns, for,
in contrast to the Dunlin, its food consists almost entirely
of insects. On still days of June, and more especially
towards the evening, one sees many Sandpipers moving

282 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

across the surface of some hill loch where they are nesting,
and picking up many insects on the wing. Throughout
the night they may be heard uttering their cries, for,
like the Oyster Catchers, they appear to be active during
the whole of the twenty-four hours, snatcliing a few
minutes of sleep at odd intervals throughout that time.

The nest of the Sandpiper is rudimentary, but I think
that a deeper hollow is scraped than is the case with the
majority of the waders. The eggs always number four.
Their ground colour is a pale red brown, and they have
underlying shell markings of pinkish tinge as well as
darker blotches and spots. They are pear-shaped, and lie
in the nest with the small ends towards the centre. The
period of incubation is about three weeks, and the
young are able to move actively about from the first.
They sometimes take to the water and swim fairly well.
They are covered with down of a brownish grey colour
above, with a brownish black band down the back. The
lower parts are white.

Towards the end of July the young Sandpipers become
full-fledged, and almost at once young and old make
their way down the burns to the rivers, and so to the
coast, from where the southern migration is commenced.

In the Hebrides the Sandpiper is common ; here it
is known as the Little Fiddler, on account of its habit of
vibrating its body and its piping notes. It nests, too,
in the Orkneys and Shctlands.

There are few of our " waders " which have so extensive
a breeding range as the Sandpiper. Northward it nests
up to the North Cape. It is found on the river Petschora.
South of these islands it nests amongst the mountains of
Spain, Portugal, and Italy, and is also found in Turkey,
Greece, and the Caucasus. It is also reported as nesting
in Tunisia.

In autumn the southward migrations of the Sandpiper

THE SANDPIPER 283

extends to Cape Colony, and throughout Southern Asia
to Ceylon and the Malay Peninsula. It is found also in
Australia and Tasmania, though it is doubtful if the
birds nesting in this country reach these far-distant lands.

Description. — Upper parts brown, striated on crown
and neck, and with arrow-shaped markings of umber on
the back. Wing coverts and inner secondaries barred,
major coverts and secondaries tipped, with white, bases
of inner webs of inner primaries white, forming a con-
tinuous white bar in the extended wing. The lower
back, rump, upper tail coverts, and tail of a bronze green
colour. The tail barred with umber and tipped with
white. Under parts white, lined with slaty black on neck
and forebreast.

When fledged the young are light greyish brown above,
the feathers margined with two bands, one dusky, the
other reddish. Forepart and sides of neck greyish with
faint dusky lines. Rest of the plumage white. Wings
and tail as in adult.

Male and female Sandpipers are alike in plumage, and
there is only a slight seasonal change of coloration.
Length 8f inches, extent of wings 14 inches. The spring
and autumn moults take place at its winter quarters.

THE DUNLIN

EROLIA ALPINA

GiLLE-FEADAIG, POLLARAN, TAUMACnAN-TRAGHAD (Gaelic) ; BECASSEAU

VARIABLE (French) ; Alpen trandlauper (German) ; Pestrosoborg
PESSOTCHNIK (Russian). Local names: — Dunlin Sandpiper, Sea
Snipe, Least Snipe, Purke.

To many the Dunlin is known during the months of winter,
but through the long days of the year, when the birds
seek the high moorlands for the purpose of rearing their
young, they merge into obscurity. Then they are seen
only by the hill-shepherd, or the stalker moving round
the tops in search, maybe, of a deer calf, or, again, of a
fox's den. They have little experience of man and his
ways, these mountain birds, and thus they show a degree
of confidence which is often quite noteworthy, and posses-
sing great charm for one whose aim is to study wild
nature at close quarters.

The Dunlin which nest on our Scottish hills are of a
different race to those which one sees during the months
of winter haunting the estuaries of so many of our rivers.
They retire south of these Islands at the approach of cold
weather, and it is not until May that they reach their
mountain haunts, arriving long after the Greenshank has
made its appearance, and having, perhaps, the Dotterel
as their companions on their northward flight.

During the month of May one sees, too, parties of
Dunlin still frequenting the coast-line, though they have
by now assumed their handsome wedding dress, but these
small people press on northward ; they are waiting for the
melting of the snows in the countries of the High North,
where it is not until June that the grip of winter slackens.

2S4

THE DUNLIN 285

The Dunlins are probably already paired when they arrive
on our hills, but it is not until the first days of June that
the hen birds scrape the insignificant hollows that serve
as their nests, and deposit their inconspicuous eggs, four
in number.

It was on such an early June day that I made an ex-
pedition into the home of the Dunlin. The air was
redolent with the many sweet scents which seem to be
inseparable to the season of early summer on the high
grounds. The blaeberry plants yielded up their perfume ;
the young shoots of heather, crowberry, and cranberry
added their gift. On a high ridge a big herd of deer were
standing, where they were outlined with great distinct-
ness against the sky. Some fine heads there were in the
herd, and they appeared all the more imposing by reason
of the velvet which still covered their growing antlers.
After a stiff climb the big plateau, stretching away for
miles at a height of close on 3000 feet above sea-level,
was reached. Here the Dunlin have their home, and have
as their companions the Golden Plover, the high-nesting
Grouse, and the white- winged Ptarmigan. But while the
other birds seek the shelter of the glens in winter, or
even move south beyond our confines, the Ptarmigan
remains, for is he not, in the thoughts of the Highlander,
An t-Eun Adhar, the Bird of the Frost ? Many springs
have their source in the plateau of the Dunlin, and in many
directions do the burns from them make their way down
to the low grounds.

Along one of these burns the way led for a time, where
the grass was springing quickly after its long imprisonment
beneath the snow. One snow-patch still lingered ; it was
not many yards in extent, and on its surface there lay
the peat and other debris drifted on to it before the
storms which so often sweep the plateau during the dark
months. On the snow a couple of hinds were seeking

286 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

relief from the heat, although the extent of the snow was
scarcely sufficient to harbour them. At our sudden
appearance at close quarters from behind a sheltering
ridge they sprang up in alarm and fled precipitately. A
little farther on a hind by herself suggested the probability
of her having a calf concealed somewhere in the neigh-
bourhood, but this surmise was not substantiated by a
search. At length we reached that particular part of the
plateau where the Dunlin have their haunt.

A little loch lies here. Its waters are rarely quiet ;
they are exposed to the winds from every quarter of the
compass. Round the lochan peat-hags extend for a con-
siderable distance, and the white flowers of the cotton-
grass catch the breeze.

It was near the lochan that I had my first sight of the
bird for which I searched. A male Dunlin, handsome in
his black breast, which he assumes only during the nesting
season, was probing the soft peat in a little basin. I
was almost upon him before he realised my approach,
but he showed surprisingly little concern, and merely
walked off quietly towards the small loch. For a time I
sought for his mate, searching the grass and heather in
the vicinity, and then moved down to the lochan. INIy
bird was standing on its shore, and this time took wing,
flying over the water as he uttered his peculiar purring
cry. I was convinced that his mate was brooding in the
neighbourhood. For a time I watched him. The heat
till now had been oppressive, but with the passing of the
noontide there rose a wind from out of the south-west,
ruffling the dark peaty waters of the lochan and dispersing
the clouds overhead. Eastward, over the Cairngorms,
dark clouds settled on the hills, and against the wind
came the rumble of far-distant thunder. To the south
of the lochan the ground rose gradually, and from this
direction the friend who accompanied me on the expedi-

THE DUNLIN 287

tion appeared, walking rapidly. His news was that he
had flushed a Dunlin, which, from her behaviour, he ima-
gined must have a nest in the vicinity, but had been unable
to find the nest. We at once made our way back to the
spot, and found the Dunlin Sandpiper standing quietly
a short distance away. Until we had almost reached her
she stood there, then, feigning a broken leg, unless,
indeed, she had in reality come by an accident, she
moved a little farther off.

We remained waiting quietly for some time, then the
Dunlin, flying back, alighted without sound a few yards
from us. But we were evidently too near her nest
to permit of her returning to it. Moving, therefore, to
another part of the hill, we lay down where we had a good
view of the small bird, marking her until she settled down
out of sight. As we again approached her she rose and
fluttered off before us. The nest, however, was remark-
ably difficult to discover ; indeed, it was only as we were
abandoning the search that we came across it. Placed
among some short grass, it was hidden away in quite a
noteworthy manner, and was scarcely more conspicuous
than that of a skylark. The nesting hollow was of the
slightest, and in it lay three small eggs harmonising closely
with their surroundings. To all appearances they had
been laid only a very short time ; indeed, it is possible
that the fourth egg had not as yet been deposited, and so
I decided to return at a somewhat later date in the endeavour
to photograph the sitting bird. A fortnight later, when
the Dunlin should have been sitting close, I again visited
the plateau.

The day was an unsuitable one for photography, for
a cold west wind hurried over the high ground, bringing
with it the breath of winter. On our way we passed the
spot where a Grouse had hatched off her brood, and a
little later flushed a second Grouse brooding her family

288 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

against the cold wind. As their mother fluttered away
the chicks commenced to shiver, and sought what shelter
they could, half burying their small bodies in any crevices
amongst the peat-hags. We reached the Dunlin's nesting
site, but for a time were unable to find the nest. But
then we came across a sucked egg-shell, and a little later
the primitive hollow quite deserted. In all probability
the tragedy was the work of a stoat, which had scented
out and sucked the eggs, for I think it scarcely probable
that a Gull or Hoodie could have discovered them.

We moved down to the lochan, watched, as we did so,
by more than one pair of Golden Plover which had hatched
off their brood since our last visit and were calling plain-
tively and continuously, and almost at once disturbed a
male Dunlin on guard. The bird rose into the wind, and,
after wheeling and dashing through the air,' came to rest
on a knoll near, uttering characteristic scraping cries. A
little farther along we saw his mate amongst some tufty
grass ; but as we approached she disappeared mysteri-
ously, and so we moved forward till we reached the edge
of the plateau and looked down into the deep corrie be-
neath, leaving the Dunlin to return to their young.

In the corrie the air was still, and many hinds with
their attendant calves could be seen crossing the burn
far beneath us. A few yards away there lay the fast-
diminishing field of snow that at times lingers in the
corrie till late in the summer. Heavy masses of black
cloud hurried past overhead, moving at great speed, and
from time to time the hills were hidden in thick rain-
squalls. After a time I moved back to the Dunlin ground,
while my companion continued on his way. Again the
cock Dunlin rose from the moss. This time, after dashing
backwards and forwards, he came above my head and
soared in the teeth of the gale for some little time.

His wings were motionless ; yet he stood his ground,

THE DUNLIN 289

and I could not but feel how clumsy even the flight of the
Snipe was compared with the finished movements of this
Dunlin Sandpiper. The fashion, too, in which, after
skimming the moor down wind with the speed of an express
train, he wheeled abruptly about and alighted on a knoll
almost instantaneously, compelled the admiration. This
knoll was not more than twenty-five yards from me, and
so, as the bird stood head to wind with little sign of un-
easiness, I commenced to stalk him, inch by inch, ob-
taining a number of photographs at different ranges before
his suspicions were aroused and he moved off, running,
however, only a few yards before remaining as though on
guard.

It was about this time that I saw the hen in precisely
the same locality as before. She showed much more
anxiety than the cock, uttering almost incessantly two
alarm notes as she walked round me. One of these notes
was the characteristic trill, unlike, I think, any other cry
in the bird world ; the other, which appeared to be the
note of extra alarm, was a harsh cry reminding me much
of the alarm note of the Lesser Tern. In order to observe
the effect, I called several times, imitating the cry of one
of her chicks. The effect was striking and instantaneous ;
the bird rushed up in alarm, and literally rolled herself
about on the ground with feathers ruffled. She indeed
presented such an appearance that it was quite impossible
to see her head or feet emerging from the dishevelled
bundle into which she rolled herself. Evidently her
tactics were quite different — considerably less elegant, but
perhaps equally forcible — to those used by the Dotterel
under similar circvimstances. After a time she began to
realise that her deception was producing no effect on the
object of her mistrust, and moved anxiously round me.

Her mate, evidently considering that his responsi-
bilities ended with his flight signalising my arrival, be-

290 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

trayed little anxiety as to the welfare of his young, but
occasionally, after an outburst of alarm on the part of his
mate, roused himself somewhat from his apparent apathy —
he stood most of the time with his feathers puffed out
facing the biting wind — and moved uneasily for a short
distance before again taking up his sentinel-like position.
But though both birds evinced the utmost confidence in
approaching me, they did not cease from warning their
young to remain concealed ; and after waiting for two
hours — by which time I had become just about as cold
as is possible — I was obliged to leave the nesting site,
since I feared that the arctic wind would have a disastrous
effect on the Dunlin brood.

Across the glen there stretched a second great plateau,
and here, on crossing a sheep-fence, I got close to a male
Golden Plover on sentinel duty. Facing the strong wind,
he had not been aware of my approach, and seemed at
first too surprised to utter his alarm note. As he awoke
to the sense of his responsibilities he repeatedly uttered
his alarm whistle, and from the far side of the fence his
mate answered him. Their excited calls aroused, in the
neighbourhood of a lochan near, a Dunlin who also evi-
dently had young, for she flew backward and forward
with powerful zigzagging flight, uttering her characteristic
note. From time to time she alighted at various points,
holding her wings above her head with most graceful
poise for a few seconds after she touched ground. Im-
mediately I imitated the cry of her young, however, she
rose from wherever she happened to be standing and flew
round, betraying great disquietude. Like the young of all
the waders, the Dunlin chicks crouch on the ground
immediately danger is signalled by their parents, and re-
main in hiding till they are informed that they may show
themselves ; and on this occasion also I was unsuccessful
in discovering them.

THE DUNLIN 291

Considering that the Dunhn and the Common Snipe
approach each other so nearly in size — tk2 whole length
of a Snipe is about 10| inches, whereas that of the Dunlin
is 8 inches — it is surprising how much smaller are the eggs
of the latter bird.

The nesting hollow is also much more rudimentary,
and I doubt whether Dunlin are partial to the boggy
ground so much sought after by Snipe. They take their
young after they have been hatched to such ground, it
is true, but as a nesting site I am inclined to think they
prefer a dry hillside with a lochan near, and make their
nests in the short hill grass that affords them a certain
amount of cover.

The Dunlin is essentially a northern bird in its nesting.
Outside this country it breeds in the Faroes, and is also
found in Iceland, though it does not, I believe, remain
on that island through the winter months. It is believed
to breed in Greenland. Throughout Norway it is plentiful,
nesting beyond the Arctic Circle. In Russia and Lapland
it is abundant, its range extending as far as Novaya
Zemlya. It also nests in Denmark and in the northern
districts of Germany. A very few are said to nest as far
south as Spain and Italy.

During the autumn and winter months the Dunlin, in
its migration, spreads far over many countries. It is found
in Africa and Egypt, frequenting the course of the Nile.
It extends its range to the Red Sea, India, and Japan.
In Eastern Asia and Northern America it is replaced by
an allied race. On Cheviot (2700 feet above sea-level),
on the borders of England and Scotland, several pairs of
Dunlin usually nest. I have only once — in early July —
visited the wild plateau which serves as a nesting-ground,
and although I saw several birds feeding by the tarns on
the hill-top, they did not, from their careless behaviour,
appear to possess broods. After the season of their nesting

T 2

292 HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

the Dunlin lose their handsome black breasts ; mdeed, an
observer being familiar with them only when they frequent
the coast during the winter months would scarcely recog-
nise them at their nesting sites. More than any bird
the Dunlin possess the remarkable power of wheeling and
doubling as one individual at an instant's notice, even
when they are in great flocks, and it would be inter-
esting to know by what means the sudden order is com-
municated to the assembly.

Description. — The adult male in summer plumage has
the bill black and top of the head almost black. Neck
greyish white streaked with black. Feathers of the back
and scapulars black, with rufous edges. Wing coverts
ash grey. Pimaries grey black with white shafts. Secon-
daries grey black edged with white. Rump and upper
tail coverts black and grey. Tail grey and brown. Chin
white. Breast handsomely coloured with black, a few
white feathers appearing. Vent, thighs, under tail coverts
white. Legs and feet black. The females are rather
larger than the males, weighing 2 oz. against 1| oz., the
weight of the male. Their plumage resembles that of the
cock birds.

In winter the Dunlin loses its black breast, its under
parts becoming almost white, and the whole bird is less
brightly coloured.

Albino Dunlins have very occasionally been recorded,
but the bird is subject to a good deal of variation in its
plumage.

INDEX

ACHNASHELLACH, ptarmigan shot at,

123
Aristotle cited, 48

Bald-headed eagle, 61

Bass Rock, peregrine on, 69

Bearded vulture, 37

Ben Alder, 32

Ben Chaorin, sandpipers on, 281

Ben Mac Dhui :

Heather on, 104

Ptarmigan on, 101

Snow bunting on, 256
Ben Xevis, ravens on, 85
Black eagle :

Feathers of, worn by chiefs, 1

Flight of, 3

Nesting of, 14
Black game :

Description of, 135-6

Distribution of, 135

Eggs of, 133

Fights of, 130-2

Flight of, 134

Food of, 134-5

Haimts of, 13

Slating of, 132

Nesting of, 132-3

Note of, 132

Peregrines prej'ing on, 65

Young of, 134
Blaeberry, 224-5
Booth quoted, 124—7
Brown, Harvie, cited, 281
Buffon quoted, 256

Caiengoem Mountains, snow on
18

Cairngorm stones, 217

Capercaillie :

Black game ousted by, 132

Description of, 154-5

" Display " of, 152

Distribution of, 150, 154

Eggs of, 151

Flight of, 153

Food of, 153

Name, derivation of, 150

Xest of, 151

Notes of, 152

Young of, 154
Carrion crow, grey crow distinct

from, 93
Cat, eaglets devoured by, 23
Cat, wild, scarcity of, 13
Chapman, Abel, cited, 28, 31
Cinclididee, 264
Coal tit, 273
Coccidiosis, 144
Coire Dhoimdail, 224
Coot, peregrines' destruction of, 64
Corby, connotation of term, 89
Corby crow, see Pvaven
Crested titmouse :

Description of, 276-7

Distribution of, 268

Eggs of, 273

Food of, 273

Haunts of, 267-8

Nest of, 269-70, 272

Note of, 270 ; whistle, 273

Young of, 274-6
I Crewe, Sir John, cited, 214

Crimea, eagles in, 37-8
i Curlew :

I Description of, 186, 190-1
293

294

HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Curlew (continued) :
Distribution of, 190
Edibility of, 189
Eggs of, 182, 184
Food of, 185
Haunts of, 184-5
Migration of, 179-80, 187
Names of, 188
Nest of, 182 ; site, 184 ; altitude

of nesting, 201
Note of, 82, 179, 181, 186-7, 189
Superstitions regarding, 187
Young of, 185-6 ; description of,
191

Deer calf, an abandoned, 231-2
Dipper (water ouzel) :
Description of, 266
Distribution of, 266
Eggs of, 262
Experiments as to alleged fish

destruction by, 263
Flight of, 264
Food of, 263
Haunts of, 260

Movements of, under water, 263-4
Nest of, 261 ; nesting sites, 261-2
Pairing of, 262
Song of, 260
Young of, 262, 265
Dotterel :
Cry of, 218
Description of, 234 ; female,

239-40
Distribution of, 238 ; in former

times, 214-15
Eggs of, 222, 226-7
Flight of, 225-6
Male, habits of, 222, 226-7
Mating of, 222
Migration of, 216, 238
Name, derivation of, 214
Nest of, 222-3 ; nesting sites,

215, 216, 225
Note of, 230-1
Plover compared with, 209
Yoiuig of, 219, 221, 237

Dresser cited, 57
Dunlin :

Description of, 292

Distribution of, 291-2

Flight of, 289

Haunts of, 285-6

Nest and eggs of, 285, 287

Nestmg plumage of, 286

Notes of, 286

Snipe compared with, 289, 291

Young of, 290

Eagles (see also Bald-headed eagle,
Black eagle. Golden eagle. Sea
eagle) :

Deer attacked bj', 31-3

Eggs of, 17, 29 ; incubation
period, 15

Enemies of, 30-1, 78, 86, 95

EjTies of — building of, 14 flf. ;
sites of, 16, 19 ; structure of,
17 ; elevation of, 18 ; rotation
of, 25 ; small birds near, 29

Female, habits of, 25

Fights between, 34

Flight of, 4-5

Gaelic narrative of, 34

Highland theories as to, 34

Hunting method of, 8-11

Lambs destroyed by, 23, 41, 46,
47

Longevity of, 30

]\Iating of, 5

Plumage of, 16

" Third eyelid " of, 3^

Trapping of, rare, 33

Young of, see Eaglets
Eaglets :

Description of, 39

Disappearance of one nestling,
common, 25

Flight of, 26-8

Food of, 13-14, 20

Number and sex of, 17

Plumage of, 20, 23, 29-30

Parents' attitude towards, 24, 28

Tamability of, 21

INDEX

295

Erne, see Sea eagle

Eunach, Loch, 166

Evans' History of Wales cited, 35

Eyess a term for peregrine, 70

Falcon, connotation of term, 70
Fame Islands, oyster catchers in,

243
Fish hawk. Fishing eagle, see Osprey
Foxes, hill, 109-10, 117, 220;

eagle's fight w-ith, 12
Fulmar petrel, 50

Gaick, forest of :

Eagles in, 38, 86

Oyster catchers in, 241

Ptarmigan in, 123

Ravens in, 86

Snipe in, 166
Gannet, habits of, 13
Golden eagle :

Description of, 39

Destruction of, in 19th century,
34-5

Distribution of, 35-8

Exclusiveness of, 26

Falconry, used for, 38

Female of, 18

Flight of, 2

Food of, 10-11, 13-14, 22

Habits of, 6

Red deer attacked by, 31-2

Robbery of eggs from, by hoodie
crows, 19-20

Sea eagle distinguished from, 39-
40

Size of, 38-9
Goosander :

Description of, 178

Distribution of, 177-8

Fish destroyed by, 169-70

Food of, 177

Mating of, 177

Merganser compared with, 170-1

Migration of, 178

Goosander {continued)

Nest of, 170, 172

Nesting of, 170-1

Young of, 175
Grampians, dotterel in, 215
Greenshank :

Description of, 199

Distribution of, 192, 198-9

Eggs of, 194

Food of, 198

Hardiness of, 193

Haunts of, 195-6

Male, habits of, 198

Migration of, 198

Nesting of, 193-4

Note of, 196-7
Grey crow (hoodie crow) :

Call of, 97

Carrion crow distinct from, 93

Description of, 99

Distribution of, 99

Eagles mobbed by, 30, 95

Egg-stealing by, 20, 96, 109

Eggs of, 94

Flight of, 98

Nest and nesting of, 93^

Persecution of, 91-2

Raven confused with, 96 ; com-
pared with, 98

Scavenging by, 96
Griffon vultures, 37
Grouse, black, see Black game
Grouse, mountain, see Ptarmigan
Grouse, red :

Ancestry of, 137

Diseases of, 66-7, 144-5

Eagles' pursuit of, and depreda-
tions amongst, 9, 10

Eggs of, 143 ; exposure withstood
by, 140-2 ; snowfalls as affect-
ing, 140-1 ; stolen by hoodies,
92

Elevation where found, 138

Enemies of, 147

Flight of, compared with black
game's, 134

Food of, 147

296

HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Grouse, red {continued) :

Habits of, 144 ; when disturbed,
110

Hybrids, 121, 148

Mating of, 140

Migration of, 139

Moors north of Tweed — esti-
mated value of, 137 ; nature
of, 138 ; situation of, 139

Moulting of, 147-8

Name, origin of, 146

Nest of, 142

Notes of, 147

Peregrines' attacks on, 63^

Plumage of, 148

Ptarmigan contrasted with, 110,
124

Sea eagles' pursuit of, 45-6

Sub-species of, 137

Weight of, 146

Young of, 143-4
Grouse, white, see Ptarmigan
Grouse, willow, 137, 147
Gulls :

Eggs devoured by, 106, 109, 143

Habits of, two distinct, 241

Hares, blue, eagles' pursuit of, 11
Heather :

Altitude reached by, 104
Burning of, on grouse moors,
145-6
Hebrides, golden eagles in, 36
Hereditary instinct, 10
Heron, ciu-lews' attacks on, 188
Hoodie crow, see Grey crow

Iceland :

Falcons of, 69, 117

Golden eagle not found in, 36-7

Goosanders in, 177

Kestrel not found in, 75

Snow bunting in, 258
India, peregrine used in, for hawking,
69

Inverliever, black game's depreda-
tions at, 134
Ireland, golden eagles in, 36

Kestrel :

Description of, 76

Distribution of, 75

Eggs of, 72

Flight of, 64

Food of, 74-5

Habits of, 72

Hunting method of, 74-5

Mice destroyed by, 71, 74

Migration of, 74

Nest of, 72

Titmouse victim of, 274

Young of, 72
Kite, disappearance of, 60

Lambs preyed on — by sea eagle, 41,

46, 47 ; by raven, 86 ; by grey

crow, 92
Lapland :

Goosanders in, 177
Peregrines nesting in, 67
Ptarmigan-trappmg in, 122
Lapwing, 85, 205-6, 245
Larig Ghruamach pass, 31-2, 195
Lek, 132, 152
Leland cited, 35
Loch Arkaig, osprey eyrie on, 51,

55
Loch Awe, 51
Loch an Eilan, a former osprey

hamit, 51-4
Loch Maree, 51
Loch Mhorlich, 53
Loch-na-gar, 171
Loch of the Willow, 173-5
Loch Tay, salmon and ospreys of,

51
Lodge, R. B., cited, 29
Long-tailed tit, 273
Luzula, 16, 43

INDEX

297

MacGillivray cited, 65, 87-8, 93,

146, 162, 198, 256
Martins, scarcity of, 13
May Island, ptarmigan on, 64
Meadow pipit, 206
Merganser, 170
Merlin, 72

Merrick, ptarmigan on, 128
Millais, J. G., cited, 111, 115, 116,

118, 121
Missel thrushes, eagles chased by,

31
Moine Mhor, 201
Monadh Liath Mountains, 229
Morven, golden plovers on, 205
Mullet hawk, see Osprey
Mussel picker, see Oyster catcher

Norway, ptarmigan in, 116

Orkney, sea eagles exterminated

in, 142
Osprey (Fishing eagle, Fish hawk,

Mullet hawk) :
Collectors' destruction of, 52, 59-

60
Description of, 61-2
Distribution of, 60-1
Eggs of, 57 ; incubation period

for, 58
Eyrie of, 53
Fight between two, 62
Food of, 56, 58
Haunts of, growing fewer, 51
Hunting method of, 56-9
Migratory habit of, 52
Nesting habits of, 57
Nesting sites to be provided for,

suggested, 55
Salmon-catching done with, 61
Young of, 58-9
Oyster catcher :
Description of, 246
Eggs of, 242 ; mcubation of, 244
Flight and song of, 244

Oyster catcher {continued) :
Food of, 245 ; feeding times,

246
Habits of, 243
Haunts of, 241, 242, 244 ; flood

havoc in, 243
Names of, 241
Nests of, 242
Young of, 245

Partridge, mountain, see Ptarmi-
gan
Pennant cited, 36
Peregrine falcon :

Description of, 70

Distribution of, 69

Eggs of, 65

Eyries of, 65

Falconry, used for, 69-70

FHght of, 64, 67-9, 210

Food of, 64

Habits of, 66

Male and female compared, 66,68,
70

Nesting of, 65, 67

Persecution of, 63, 66

Ravens' relations with, 65

Value of, 70

Young of, 67
Phelonites strobilina, 88
Plover, golden :

Compared with lapwing, 203,
204, 205-7 ; with dotterel, 209,
215

Cry of, 200, 203

Description of, 212-13

Distribution of, 211

Eggs of, 204

Flight of, 202, 210

Food of, 206

Haunts of, 201

Legends regarding, 200

Migration of, 211-12

Nesting sites of, 202-3, 205, 215 ;
nest, 204 ; second nesting, 206,
209

298

HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Plover {continued) :
Peregrines' destruction of, 64, 68
" Rainbird," the, 202, 206
Song ot, 201-2
Young of, 205
Plover, green, see Lapwing
Ptarmigan (mounta'ui partridge) :
Cry of, 110, 116
Description of, 127
Disease amongst, 123
Distribution of, 127-8
Eagle feared by, 7, 9-10
Eggs of, 105
Enemies of, 109-10
Food of, 111
Grouse possibly descended from,

137
Habits of, 105-8, 110-11
Haunts of, 100-1
Hybrids, 121
Mating of, 102
Migration of, 122
Name of, scientific, inappro-

priateness of, 110; etymology

of common name, 118
Nest of, 104
Packs of, 109, 124
Physiological characteristics of,

115
Plumage of, 116-21 ; of northern

birds, 211-12
Shooting of, Booth's accomit of,

125-7
Trapping of, 121-2
Weather risks of, 102-3, 107
Young of, 107, 109 ; plumage,

119
Puffins, 69

Eaven (corbie crow) :
Description of, 90
Destruction of, 77-8
Distribution of, 89-90
Eagles banished by, 31
Eggs of, 84
Eyries of, 79-80

Raven {continued) :

Flight of, 85

Food of, 86-7

Golden eagles mobbed by, 86

Grey crow confused with, 96 ;
compared with, 98

Habits of, 85

Heat as affecting, 80

Legends anent, 88-9

Longevity of, 89

Mariners' use of, in ancient times,
88

Nesting of, 77 ; nest and site,
84-5

Notes of, 83

Pabbay scarecrows, 87

Peregrines' relations with, 65

Young of, 85, 90 ; an interesting
family, 80-3
Red deer :

Eagles' attacks on, 31

Fight between stags, 8
Red grouse, see Grouse
Red hawk, see Kestrel
Redshank, 163, 193, 198, 218
Redstart, 272
Ring ouzel, 71, 72, 79
Roebuck and eagle, 32-3
Rooks, eagle mobbed by, 31

St. John's Wild Sport in the High-
lands, cited, 13, 157
St. Kilda :

Ptarmigan on, 123

Sea eagles on, 50
Sandpiper :

Description of, 283

Dippers' antagonism to, 264

Distribution of, 282-3

Eggs of, 282

FUght of, 279

Food of, 281

Habits of, 282

Haunts of, 280-1

Note of, 281

Pairing of, 281

INDEX

299

Sandpiper (continued) :

Parental anxiety of, 227

Young of, 282
Sea eagle (white-tailed eagle or
erne) :

Albino, 48

Description of, 49-50

Distribution of, 48-9

Eggs of, 33-4

Extermination of, proceeding,
42-3

Eyries of, 44

Flight of, 48

Food of, 46

Golden eagle compared with, 39-
40, 47 ; confused with, 13

Habits of, 41

Hunting method of, 46-7

Lambs destroyed by, 41, 46, 47

Mating of, 47

Nesthig habits of, 43

Persecution of, m West of Scot-
land, 41, 46, 47

Prey of, 45

Yoimg of, 44-5
Seabhag, see Peregrine
Shetland :

" Ci-aas' Court " in, 98-9

Curlew superstition in, 190

Eyries in, 44

Grey crows in, 98

Grouse experiment in, 149

Sandpipers in, 282

White sea eagle m, 48
Skye, scarcity of sea eagle in, 42,

50
Slater, Henry, cited, 123
Snipe :

Description of, 167

Distribution of, 167

Drumming of, 162-3

Dunlin compared with, 289,
291

Food of, 166-7

Migration of, 166-7

Names of, 162, 164-5

Nest of, 165

Snipe (continued) :

TaU feathers of, 164

Young of, 166
Snipe, summer, see Sandpiper
Snow buntmg :

Collector's destruction of, 248

Description of, 259

Distribution of, 258

Early name of, 258

Eggs of, 253

FUght of, 252, 256-7

Food of, 257

Habits of, 257

Haunts of, 247

Nest of, 253

Song of, 251-3

Tradition regarding, 255

Young of, 253-4
Snowdon, 35
Solan goose, 30
Spain, eagles in :

Foes of, 31

Golden eagles, 37

Habits of, 28-9

Names for, 1

Serpent eagle, anecdote of, 28

Wild goats preyed on by, 24-5
Spitzbergen, 256
Stoats, 110
Storm on the hills, a, 112-14

Tarmachan, see Ptarmigan

Tree pipit, 272

Turkestan, eagles for falconry in, 1

VuLTUBES, Pliny's theory of, 48^,

Walbo, Mr. Meade, cited, 59
Wales, golden eagles in, 35
Water ouzel, see Dipper
Weather changes, 249-50
Whaup, see Curlew
White- tailed eagle, see Sea eagle
Willoughby cited, 146

SDO

HILL BIRDS OF SCOTLAND

Willow warbler, 272
Windhover, see Kestrel
Woodcock :

Cry of, 156

Description of, 161

Distribution of, 160-1

Eggs of, 158

Woodcock {continued) :
Flight of, 159
Food of, 159-60
Migration of, 157, 160
Nesting of, 157-8
"Roding" of, 156-7
Young of, 158 ; carrjnng of.

159

Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson fr" Co.
Edinburgh tS;^ Loudon

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