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UNIVERSITY
OF ILLINOIS

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University of Illinois Library

FrcrURES OF BIRD BIFE

YO THE MEMORY
or
AWSOS, 1AVALID,
THOMAS J. MANN
HYDE =A GL
SAWBRIDGEW ORTH
WITHOUT WHOSE
ENCOURAGEMENT AND ASSISTANCE
THIS WORK

WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN BECUN.

“4

|
| |

SPOONBILL AND YOouNG.

ICTURES OF
BIRD LIFE .

WOODLAND, MEADOW, MOUNTAIN
AND MARSH

fees. LODGE

MEDALLIST ROYAL PHOTOGRAPHIC SOCIETY

WITH
OVER TWO HUNDRED HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM PHOTOGRAPHS FROM LIFE BY THE AUTHOR

SECOND EDITION

S. H. BOUSFIELD & CO., LTD.
12, PORTUGAL STREET LONDON
W.c.

Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2015

https://archive.org/details/picturesofbirdli00lodg_O

[~
5-9
RES

CHAPTER

ie
I].
II.
EV:
VE

CONTENTS

PHOTOGRAPHY FOR NATURALISTS

AUTOMATIC PHOTOGRAPHY BY ELECTRICITY.

PHOTOGRAPHIC OUTFIT .

BIRD LIFE IN A SUBURBAN PARISH .

A LINCOLNSHIRE MUD-FLAT .

THE SEA-BIRDS OF THE FARNE ISLANDS
THE NORFOLK BROADS .

BIRD LIFE IN DUTCH MARSHES .

BIRD LIFE IN THE SPANISH MARISMAS
BIRD LIFE IN DENMARK—ON THE FJORD
BIRD LIFE IN DENMARK—IN THE FOREST
A WEEK IN DERBYSHIRE

DOL

ILLUSTRATIONS IN HALF-TONE

PAGE
AMBUSH AT SPOONBILL’s NEST ; ALG
Avuruor, THE . ; F 280
AVOCET FEEDING : 5 ; ; - 200
7 Nest or, DENMARK 339
a7 sand RAIN 325
bs », HOLLAND . é oe a?
BeEr-EATER, END or NeEstTiInG Burrow . 308
55 on Topmost Twic 305
BLackKBirD, NEST OF 46
Briackcar, Hen, oN NEST. * ~~ 01
Bray TAKING Birps OvuT Or FLIGHT-NET 180
BuntTiInc, ComMoN 333
+5 REED-, AND NEST 105
“6 3 Cock 222
5 . Hen . 102
Buzzarp, NEST OF . 353
CAMERA HIDDEN IN HEDGEROW 27
CHAFFINCH, Cock . : 98
x HEN, AND NEST 97
(CHIFF-CHAFF, NEST OF . 367
CLIMBING TO Rook’s NEST. - be PAT
Coot, NEST OF. : 3 : : . 308
*CORMORANT E 3 : ; 5 - 202
‘CORMORANTS SITTING 201, 203
Crow, Carrion-, NEST OF. : oe LS
Cuckoo, Younc, FED By MHEDGE-
SPARROW 134, 135,
“5 5 IN HeEpGE-SPAR-
RoW’s NEST 3133
CURLEW . : - : : x . 185
DIAGRAM OF ELECTRIC TRAP CONNECTIONS 28

Dipper, NEST OF . ,
Duck, Turren . ;

a >», NEST OF .

“ WILp, Nest or
DUNLINS FEEDING . - ,

Earty MorninG at THE NETS
EGG-sHELLS As Balt
Ecrets, Lirritr, AND NEST .

” ”

EIDER SITTING . “ ; :

FLAMINGOES, DISTANT VIEW OF

FLYCATCHER, SPOTTED, AND NEST .

SITTING

” ”

Givinc A Back up A TREE .

PAGE

364, 365

In NESTING CoLony 285,

GopwIt, BAar-TAILED, WINTER PLUMAGE
>. BLACK-TAILED, AND NEST.

GOLDFINCH AND NEST .
GOSHAWK, NEST OF : a

GREBE, GREAT CRESTED, NEST OF.

LITTLE. 5 4 :

ae FEEDING YOUNG

» ”
GREENFINCH, NEST OF .

GUILLEMOTS AND KITTIWAKES

Bs ON THE PINNACLES
GULL, BLACK-HEADED, AND NEST
,, Common, NEST OF P

;» ESSER BLACK-BACKED .

ON FLoatinc NEstT

360
361
147
266

330

Illustrations in Half=tone

Gutet, Lesser BLAck-BACKED, NEST OF .

YOUNG, CAUGHT
In NET.

Guy CamERA IN Broaps : ; :

29 39 29

Harrier, Marsu-, Nest OF
7" MOonNTAGUE’s, NEST OF
Hawrincu, NEST OF

HERON, BUFr-BACKED. ;
2 a AND NEST
yo ONaGHT-
= s> NEST OF .
2 ON NEST : ; 5 F 5
>» PURPLE, AUTOMATIC PHOTO OF.
= a Nest or, HoLttanp
os oe Be Ags. IOEAIN
2 a9 ie i. LOUNG:
»» RICHMOND Park.

Ibis, GLossy, AND NEST

JACKDAW, NEST OF . =

KESTREL AyD NEST. ; z : :
KINGEHKHER ON WATER-HEN’S NEST
‘ere, Nest anpd YOUNG. : 3
o be OF 2
9, DBLACK, NEST oF . : : ;

KITTIWAKE ON NEsT : ; : .

LAPWING . : : ‘
AvToMAtic PHOTO oF

39
~ NeEsT oF
r SITING . ‘ :

aa YOUNG, CROUCHING . z

Martin, Hovusr-, anp Nest . ;

NIGHTINGALE AND NEST .
13 SITTING : : : P

PAGE

196

183

291

110

143
130
271
268
273
193

160

25
161
162

163

NIGHTINGALE TAKING MEAL-WORM .
NIGHTJAR AND YOUNG

s NEST OF . 3 . ‘ "i
a on Upper BrancH
NiGHTJARS, YOUNG . : : : ;

Owt, BARN- . “ : 3 5 -
3 BoNES FROM CASTINGS ‘

a re CASTINGS . ‘
ae 7 Youne, In Dowy
Foe CTR) =r F ; 5

;, LONG-EARED

s> SHORT-EARED . 5

Ear or

NEST OF . 5

” ”

” a?
‘

» LAawny
OYSPER-CATCHER F
NEST OF

9
PARTRIDGE, NEST OF : :
PHEASANT, HEN, SITTING

5 NEsT OF
PHOTOGRAPHING NEST UP TREE
PINNACLES, THE Fi :
PINTAIL, NEST OF
Pirir, Mrapow-, Nest or

» TREE-, NEST OF . é
PLover, RINGED, AT ENFIELD SEWAGE-

FARM
PLOVERS, GREY 5
PRATINCOLE
Purrin, NESTLING
Purrin’s Burrow. 3 , 5
PUFFINS . . ‘ : - : 2
RAvEN, NEST OF. ; ; : 6
REDBREAST, ROBIN . : 2

NEST OF

” ”

REDSTART AND NEST : s ‘:

Rook AND NEst ; ; 3 5 ;
»> NEST OF 2 , ; 3
Rurr 3

PAGE
32
126
125
122
129

138
141
140
137
282
219
213
217
215
142
223
200

152
153
154

10
189
338

165
275
309
188
195
194

304
49
50
48

117

114

343,

Sanprriver, Common, Nes? oF

SerrinGe PHOTO-TRAP fs - -
Surikk, GREY .
a5 RED-BACKED, Cock
a * HEN
” Aj Nest or
a WoopcHat-
SKYLARK, NEST OF
of YOUNG
Sparrow, Hepce-, Nes’ or .
SPOONBILL. 7
ah NEST OF . : ‘
Pe NEsTs . ; 5 4
~ YOUNG . .
SPOONBILLS, YOUNG.
STARLING (2 Positions) . A 5
5 Nest OF
StTizt. 6 . 4 - : 5

», (3 FEEDING)

>, NEST IN WATER

os » ON Mup : : ,
Srork, Brack, NEsT OF .

—n WHITE, AND YOUNG

” a GREETINGS

» A IN DENMARK .

>» . IN SEVILLE

” of KLAPPERING

a 3: ON GROUND

a 55 on NEST : !

Srow1nc CAMERAS IN Boat
SWALLOW . F 3 . 5
55 NEST OF . 5 -

TerRN, Biack, Nest or, HoLtanp
es “0 5 SPAIN i
0 », (2 Positrons)

3» Common, AND NEST

349,

PAGE

363
30
328
BO
80
83
265
118
121
67
24
233
284
230
228
106
109
27
312
315
318
350
259
251
351

O77

ear
251
332
225
335
88
91

240
323
243
245

Illustrations in Half-tone

Tern, Lesser, NEST or. -
ie SANDWICH, NESTS OF
. WHISKERED . r
TurusH, Misser-, Nest or . ;
oy Sonc-, NEST or : A

Lj rare
ys =f YOUNG . 5 3

Tit, BEARDED, AND NEST
3LUE, AND Stump witH NEST

”

5, LONG-TAILED, NEST OF x
” 3 “4 HALF-MADE
,, Marsu-, Nest or é

TURTLE-DOVE AND NEST .

WADING IN Broans 5
IN SPANISH LAGOON.
WacTtaliL, Prep 5 5 : F
a ;, NEST AND YOUNG
a3 YELLOW . 5 7
a 3 AND NEST . Z
WARBLER, GARDEN-, NEST OF f
A + SITTING .

GREAT REED-, AND NEST

”
a Pe 5 YOuNG .
# ReEED-, NEST OF . .
5 Fn SITTING .
SEDGE-, AND NEST
a A FEEDING YOUNG

WATER-HEN AND NEST . 5
WHINCHAT, Cock . 2

35 NEsT OF
WHITETHROAT, GREATER. - 4
50 ae (3 Positions)
53 wd NEST OF .
55 LeEssER, YOUNG .

WILLOW-WREN AND NEST
AT NEST . 5

by) oe)

Woo0pD-PIGEON, NEST OF

PAGE

261
337
321
43
44
45
209
69

70
151

56
57
63
64
148

PeerURES OF BIRD LIFE

CHAPTER. * I

Photography for Naturalists

There are so many gentlemen who have leisure and meaus, that we beg to
suggest that those who have the opportunity should make it their pleasure and
business to visit some of these orangs in their tropical forests. Let them for once
leave the gun and rifle at home, and take only the telescope and field-glass, the sketch-
book and pencil. Naturalists and anatomists know quite enough of the structure,
as compared with man, of the orang, gorilla, and chimpanzee. There are skeletons
and skins in abundance of all these in England, but nobody, not even Professor Owen
himself, can tell the social manners and customs of an animal from his skeleton
and the structure of his muscles. What is wanted now to fill up this vacant gap
is an account of the home life of the great apes. This is not to be obtained by shooting

and persecuting them, but by meeting them as it were in a friendly way.

Tuvus wrote Frank Buckland, now many years ago, respecting
some specimen of orang-otang which had just reached England.
If he had lived in these days of photography, I feel positive
he would have included the camera and tele-photographic lens
in his suggested outfit.

At any rate, his condemnation of mere killing is worthy
of consideration. ‘There is so much slaughter of wild animal
life going on all over the world, that at the present rate of
destruction there will soon be nothing left to kill.

But before the coming extermination the substitution

10 Pictures of Bird Life
of the camera for more deadly weapons opens up a novel
form of sport to every lover of wild life,—one no less

fascinating and infinitely more difficult than that followed

PHOTOGRAPHING NEST UP A TREE WITH AN ]MPROVISED
TRIPOD MADE OF YOUNG TREES.

by the wielder of gun and rifle; a sport. too, which has
the immense advantage of in no way diminishing the fast

dyvinding number of our ferwe nature, and one which at

Photography for Naturalists 1]

the same time produces permanent and_ truthful records
of the countless beautiful forms around us.

In the whole range of photographic possibilities, wide
as it is, where can any subject be found more worthy of
one’s best energies and keenest enthusiasm than the portrayal
of the inner life, haunts, and habits of the wild free inhabitants
of woodland, meadow, mountain, and marsh ?

As Buckland says, there are so many men who _ have
the time and the money, and there must be so many who
badly want a new sensation, and some definite object in
life, that I wonder it has never struck some of them what
a good time they could have. Hundreds have yachts lying
idle half the year, and find the time go slowly for want of
an occupation. Most sportsmen have at least a liking for
natural history and collecting, which only wants encouraging
to turn them into enthusiasts. Let them start an expedition
photegraphic—and collecting too, if they like-—with some
definite object in view: some long-debated point in natural
history to clear up, or some newly discovered fact to prove
more convincingly by means of photographs, or some fast-
disappearing species to be photographed before it finally
vanishes from off the face of the earth.

The dwindling fauna of South Africa badly needs a
photographic historian. That this would not be an impossible
task Lord Delamere’s interesting series of photographs is
conclusive proof. It is a pity that there are not more such
expeditions.

Uganda, from all accounts, would be a paradise for a

12 Pictures of Bird Life

photographic naturalist, if it could be worked at once, before
the abundance of wild animal life is thinned down to the
level of those parts which have been shot over for a longer
period.

But going no farther than the confines of Kurope—though
skins and specimens, both dead and alive, of almost every
Kuropean species are a drug in the market—there is yet a
grand opening for photographs of the most extreme interest.

We know now for certain that the Flamingo does not sit
astride of a tall conical mud mound, as depicted in the old
books; but a photograph from life of a Flamingo sitting
would be worth some labour, and be more convincing than
a drawing. ‘The Lammergeyer on its native rocks, the Great
Bustard, and the Crane would be fine prizes to strive for.
The photographing these “at home” would be ten or twenty
times as difficult and a hundred times more interesting than
the mere feat of shooting them, and could only be done by
the most enthusiastic perseverance and ingenuity.

It would be no work for the ubiquitous hand camera.
The whole apparatus, from lens to camera and tripod, would
need to be carefully designed for its special purpose, and
difficulties, as far as possible, foreseen and guarded against.
Some portable form of automatic release, electric or other-
wise, might be contrived, combined perhaps on occasion by
a flash-lhghting contrivance.

The portability of the hand or folding pocket cameras
is undoubtedly tempting to.the traveller or sportsman

already loaded with necessaries, and the facility with which

Usinc GuN CAMERA IN THE Broaps,

14. Pictures of Bird Life

one can be carried about at the same time as a gun or
rifle, or on horseback or camel-back, often leads to its
being included in an outfit, and used for work for which
it is absolutely useless. I wonder how many yards of
film have been exposed on objects completely out of their
range, and developed after returning home, when it ts too
late to rectify the mistake. It cannot be too strongly
insisted on that serious work, such as Natural History
work is, can only be accomplished by taking trouble and
by using proper instruments, even though they are heavy
and extremely awkward to carry. I do not deny for a
moment that good subjects have been obtained with a
pocket camera, but I say unhesitatingly that for every
chance of a successful shot the carrier of a pocket camerz
only misses a hundred for want of a longer focus lens,
and in all probability the one solitary opportunity would
have had more justice done to it with another instrument.

After ten years’ experience I only remember one
occasion when a small camera would have been useful,
and then, though I could have exposed more plates, I
should certainly have been disappointed at the small size
of the birds depicted by it.

Suppose for a moment that it had been possible for
Messrs. Seebohm and Harvie-Brown’s expedition to Siberia,
Lord Lilford’s yachting cruises after birds in the Mediter-
ranean, and the Crown Prince Rudolph’s expeditions to the
Danube and Palestine to have been accompanied by a com-

petent photographer provided with the modern appliances

Photography for Naturalists 15

which have since been invented, there is no doubt that the
value of these expeditions would have been much augmented.

How interesting to future generations of ornithologists
to see permanent photographic records of the first recorded
nests of the little Stint and Grey Plover, with the birds
themselves photographed on or near the nests, as first dis-
covered by Seebohm : or some of Wolley’s Lapland discoveries !
What pictures of the great raptorial birds Prince Rudolph
could have obtained if he had had a tele-photo lens while
in ambush at their nests!

A most interesting expedition could be made now in
pursuit of the Eagles and Vultures of Southern Europe. In
Spain alone there are still to be found in the big pine-woods
and rugged sierras five different kinds of Eagles and four
species of Vulture. Some of these are yearly decreasing in
numbers, and in a few more years will be extremely rare.
Hungary and the country round the Danube is also par-
ticularly rich in raptorial and marsh birds.

But enough has been said to show what a wide opening
there is for the photographic naturalist, and what a scope
for serious work in a new and practically untrodden field for
research.

Unfortunately the field is too big for any man of small
means. Unless backed by money, whether his own or pro-
vided by employers, no one can hope to do more than pick
up a few crumbs here and there in the way of results.

The attempt to obtain photographs of wild and living

animals is beset with many difficulties, not the least of which

16 Pictures of Bird Life

are the photographic and optical difficulties placed in his

way by the limitations of his craft, though some of them are

AMBUSH NEAR SPOONBILL’S NEST, IN WHICH I REMAINED IN
Four Feet oF WATER FOR Five Howrs.

gradually being removed by fresh discoveries and inventions,
such as that of the tele-photo lens.

One of the difficulties is that the small size of most birds

Photography for Naturalists i

and of many animals renders necessary a very close approach
in order to obtain a photograph of a practical size. Against
this close approach the extreme timidity of practically the
whole animal creation is an almost insuperable barrier. Thus
the use of very long-focus lenses becomes an absolute
necessity, and even with the most powerful a small object
like a bird must be photographed from a very few yards, or
even feet, and the necessary extension of camera becomes
exceedingly cumbrous and awkward at such close quarters,
and requires, again, a very heavy and rigid tripod to support
the weight. Photographing small birds with a camera between
three and four feet long on a big tripod resembles shooting
Snipe with a Maxim-gun.

By using the tele-photo lens, invented a few years ago
by Mr. Dallmeyer, a long-focus lens and consequent large
image may be obtained without the corresponding increase
in the length of camera.

But this desirable result is only arrived at by a great loss
of rapidity. It is necessary to give a comparatively slow
exposure even with the fastest plates obtainable. The longer
the extension of camera the bigger the magnification, but the
greater the loss of rapidity. I find that a short camera with
a more moderate magnification gives a gain in rapidity, and
improves the definition and depth of focus, and it is noticeable
that my cameras by degrees get shorter and shorter.

The latest step in this direction consists of a short camera
carrying a tele-photo lens, and provided with a reflecting
focussing device, which is mounted on a light gun-stock,

hel

18 Pictures of Bird Life

and can be used like a rifle by resting the elbows on the
knees.

Another difficulty is the retiring nature of many birds,
which prefer leafy retreats and shady corners embowered in
foliage, where the quality of the light is not quick enough for
the short exposures which are needed for their active move-
ments and restless behaviour.

For some subjects, such as a bird on its nest, an ordinary
lens may be used on a carefully hidden and previously focussed
‘amera, the shutter of which may be manipulated from a
distance by means of a string, a long pneumatic tube, or even
by electric current. Here great exactitude in focussing is
required, and even with the most careful preparations many
exposures will be wasted. It is impossible without much
‘stopping down” to get both sides of a nest in sharp focus
on the plate; and unless the bird occupies the exact spot
allowed for it, it will be more or less out of focus. It is
generally safest to focus the nearest edge of the nest, as a
bird will, as a rule, prefer to face any object of which she
has any suspicion. She will also prefer to sit head to wind.
Then, not only must the camera be most carefully concealed,
but the operator himself must also be completely out of
sight. Then, when, after many hours of waiting, the desired
exposure has been made, there is the necessity for him to
show himself in order to change the plate if another chance
is wanted, and it is never safe to trust to one plate in this
work. This is not only a great drawback, but causes much

loss of time.

Photography for Naturalists 19

When hidden up with the camera, as when using the
tele-photo lens, you may sometimes expose a dozen plates
one after the other without having to alarm the bird by
betraying your hiding-place, and there is besides more choice
of pose, and the bird’s movements can be followed without
your being restricted to one particular spot, and when there
is time the focus can be obtained with more certainty. Too
often, however, the bird is on the move, and the time for
consideration is of the shortest.

On these occasions self-effacement must be studied as a
fine art. All animals do their best to shun the attention of
mankind, for very excellent reasons of their own; and the
photographic enthusiast, though he may overflow with benevo-
lence towards the whole animal creation, is viewed with just
as much suspicion as the prowling gunner—with more, in fact,
inasmuch as his weapon is so much more bulky and dangerous
in appearance.

It is quite possible, however, to get gradually on familiar
terms with birds individually, and to gain their confidence,
if you can spare time to spend a day or two at their house—
I should say, their nest. I have succeeded in making friends
with several pairs of Nightingales, Whinchats, Whitethroats,
and other timid birds. By constantly visiting them and by
moving quietly and gently, they soon lay aside all fear, and
appear to recognise one as a friend of the family, who may
safely be trusted not to betray the confidence placed in his
good faith. When they have once arrived at this satisfactory

state of mind, the chief difficulties are removed, and work

20 Pictures of Bird Life

may be done at close quarters without the usual precautions
as to hiding.

The most portable disguise for general use among the
greenery of hedges, woods, and reeds is a large piece of
green fabric. By having it lined with a yellowish brown,
the reverse side would be useful on sand, shingle, and open
moors. It may nearly always be supplemented with advantage
by cut pieces of bracken, leafy branches, reeds, or whatever
is suitable and appropriate for the locality.

In such a difficult class of work the failures and disappoint-
ments are many and bitter, and success always very uncertain.

I have gone abroad for a week after a particular bird
and succeeded in exposing two plates at short range, only
to find on my return home that they were both hopelessly
fogged. [I have ridden miles, and carried a heavy camera,
only to find the nest deserted or pulled out by boys, or
waded nearly up to my neck in stagnant water for half
a day to no purpose.

One day I cycled thirty-five miles, carrying a camera,
after a particular nest, and had the pleasure of riding the
thirty-five miles home again without having unpacked
the camera——seventy miles for nothing, not having suc-
ceeded in finding the wished-for object—and have often
and often been out every day for a fortnight and more
without having exposed a plate. And here let me say that
‘arrying a whole-plate camera and spare lenses, and perhaps
another camera as well, with tele-photo lens and all be-

longings, over hedge and ditch, ploughed field and marsh,

Photography for Naturalists 21

varied perhaps by climbing to the top of seven or eight big
trees, is very hard work under a hot sun—such hard work
that nobody but an enthusiast would ever tackle it twice.

The long waiting at nests is generally supposed to be
very tedious sort of work; but this is a great mistake. There
is always something to be seen of exceeding interest. If it
were possible to photograph birds as quickly and as easily
as it is to shoot them, the photographer would know no
more about them and their habits than the man who shoots
a bird the instant he sees it—7f he can. It is during this
waiting that one learns.

The mere pleasure of seeing a rare bird at close quarters
is alone sufficient compensation for any amount of waiting,
and there is the chance of a successful photograph thrown
in, as it were; there is also a great probability of seeing
all sorts of unexpected incidents and details of wild life.
The fact is, the way to see Nature face to face is not to
tramp about either with or without a gun, but to sit in a
ditch or up a tree, or burrow into a thick hedge, and stop
there half a day, or, better still, a whole day. You will see
much more than when walking about, and those birds you
do see will be unconscious of danger instead of fleeing for
their lives.

The great thing is not to move; it is the movement which
frightens or perhaps calls attention to your presence. By
merely standing perfectly still, it is quite possible to have
birds and animals all round you, taking no more notice than

if you were a post or tree. A good plan is to cover up

22 Pictures of Bird Life

your face and to wear dirty old dog-skin gloves that have
seen plenty of hard wear. You can then move your hands
slowly and raise a field-glass to your eyes, when any move-
ment of the bare hands would be fatal. If anything suddenly
approaches close to you, half close the eyes and look through
the half-closed lids. If you must move—and after a time
it becomes impossible to remain motionless—do so slowly
and cautiously, watching for a suitable opportunity.

Coughing, sneezing, and smoking must be strictly for-
bidden. I have myself given up smoking altogether, as being
the easiest way out of the difficulty ; otherwise, while waiting
about, there was always present the longing for a smoke, all
the stronger for being forbidden.

Also, and most important of all, go alone, whenever
practicable. One man working on the lines suggested will
see four times as much as two. It is very often impossible
to do this. In strange localities, and especially abroad, it
will often be necessary to have a guide, or boatman, or
keeper; and on such occasions the advantage of being
taken straight to the birds saves so much time wandering
about in a strange country as to outweigh any disadvantages.

Away from home, too, much more weight has to be
‘uried, so as to be prepared for anything that may turn
up—spare plates, lenses, ete., generally more than it is
possible to carry single-handed. Even then it is as well,
whenever after anything special, to leave your man at a
little distance, and go on alone. I try always to plan out

beforehand each day’s work; but one must always be

Photography for Naturalists 23

prepared to alter or modify, or even completely reverse,
all one’s plans at a moment’s notice, for the least thing
may render them all useless.

This branch of photography will be found of most
absorbing interest, provided one has, to start with, the
necessary enthusiasm, without which the many failures and
the constant disappointments would soon prove overwhelming.

The worst of it is, that when a good photograph of
any bird has been obtained—as good, that is, as can be
reasonably expected—or even when it is the very best that
can be possibly done by photography, it falls so lamentably

short of the beauty of the original.

CHAPTER II

Automatic Photography by Electricity

SpoonBiLi_ (Platalea leucorodia).

tric shutter to be actuated automatically by

a bird’s foot, and in the chapter dealing

SINcE. writing
the foregoing
chapter, the
idea of the
automatic elec-
tric release
therein sug-
gested has be-
come an ac-
complished
fact.

In 1901 I
devised an elec-
the pressure of
with Bird Life

in Dutch Marshes will be found an account of how it was

used successfully in portraying an unconscious Purple Heron

in the very act of stepping on to its nest.

This was in the

midst of a certain “ meer.” which must remain nameless, where

these Herons, so common on the Continent, but so extremely

Automatic Photography by Electricity 25

rare on our side of the Channel, nest in great numbers.
One advantage in this very interesting method of photo-
trapping is that it enables one to work with several cameras,
as is evidenced by the fact that, at the very time the Purple
Heron was completing the electric circuit, and thereby auto-
matically photographing itself. I was hard at work a good
mile away, making exposure after exposure at adult Spoon-
bills standing in their nest and surrounded by their half-

fledged family.

Lapwine Sittinc. AUTOMATICALLY PHOTOGRAPHED BY ELECTRICITY.

Truly this was a red-letter day, thus to obtain photographs
of these two fine birds, so interesting and so desirable in every
way in the eyes of an ornithologist, and yet so extremely
difficult, owing to their excessive timidity as well as to their
love of remote and unapproachable localities !

Many have been the attempts, carefully planned and
patiently carried out, but all in vain, to circumvent this timidity
and photograph them “at home ”—attempts begun in 1895,

and only successfully ended in 1901.

26 * . Pictures of Bird Life

It would, however, have been the height of rashness to rush
over to Holland to use an untried-and untested apparatus,
especially one so delicate in manipulation. A whole week was
first spent at a Lapwing’s nest not far from my house. Day
after day the trap was carefully set, and watched throughout
the whole day from the shelter of a thick hedge half-way across
the next field. Squatting in this prickly retreat, the birds could
be watched through the field-glass, and their actions and
behaviour noted. Each day one or other of the birds went on
to the eggs, and, duly setting the current in action, exposed the
plate ; but it was not until the end of the week that a success-
ful photograph was obtained. First one slight alteration or
modification became necessary, and then another. The shutter
made for some time a slight noise—very slight it was, but quite
enough to cause the mother bird to spring up and completely
blur the photograph before the exposure was completed. Since
then some considerable improvements have been effected, and
to complete the circuit a bird now has only to touch an
invisible silk thread. This can be made to match the place—
green over grass, yellow over sand, and so on—and can be
so delicately set that a Butterfly, settling on it, would set the
battery at work. I have released the shutter by dropping a
piece of thin newspaper an inch square on to this thread.
Another difficulty had to be got over at the last moment. ‘The
Lapwing sat on the release so long that the battery, kept in
action all the time, ran out. It then became necessary to work
out an automatic * cut off,” which would prevent this waste

of battery action, however long the pressure was maintained.

CAMERA HIDDEN IN HEDGEROW. TRAP SET FOR A JACKDAW, BAITED WITH
Eces. (Front of CAMERA AND SHUTTER PAINTED GRASS-GREEN.)

EGG-SHELLS SET AS Bair FoR CRowS OR JACKDAWS. PLATE EXPOSED BY FINGER

TOUCHING GREEN SILK STRETCHED OVER EcGs,

28 Pictures of Bird Life

st Li sive LOWY |

S, Spring; S’, Screw,—both connected with insulated wires to battery
and electro-magnet of shutter. The slightest touch on silk causes S to
touch S’, which completes the electric circuit, and causes the shutter to
open and shut, whereby the plate is exposed.

The camera, it is needless to say, must be most carefully
concealed ; it is, in fact, upon the thorough concealment that
eventual success depends, for very many birds will not approach
their nest if their suspicions are too much aroused, but will
desert their eggs altogether, and some birds will even desert
their young ones. I have known 'Turtle-doves to do so: but
this is, I imagine, a very extreme case.

When a nest is, like a Lapwing’s, placed in the middle
of a field on the bare ground, it is not an easy task to so
disguise the camera as not to alarm the parent birds. It is
impossible, of course, to so conceal it as to leave nothing sus-
picious ; there must be some lump which did not exist before.
however you may attempt to do away with it. And it is just
here that human ingenuity comes into play. — It is, for instance,
a capital plan to gradually accustom the birds to this necessary
lump before they begin to sit, by piling up two or three clods
of earth some yards away, and gradually decreasing the dis-

tance, so that they become familarised with its appearance.

Automatic Photography by Electricity 29

Then, when you actually commence operations, place the camera
in position at the right distance, taking advantage, if possible,
of any natural mound or rise of ground, but keeping the light
behind the camera. As you may take it for granted that a Lap-
wing will never come on at first under two hours (it will much
more likely be four), it becomes necessary to make a mental
calculation as to the position of the sun in two or four hours’
time, and allow accordingly. This is really an important point.
Then focussing must be most carefully done ; and those who
have never experienced the delights of lying down flat in a
muddy field, and focussing a camera on the ground, will be
considerably surprised at the difficulty involved and the time
taken up by this essential operation. ‘The lower the camera is,
the more difficult it becomes to focus sharply the foreground
grass as well as the exact spot where the bird is expected, and
the swing-back must be used to the very fullest possible extent.
Then the shutter is set, and the wires connected with the dry
battery, a proper circuit being arranged with the two terminals
of the shutter and the release on the nest, which only wants
completion by the pressure of the bird itself. The wires,
insulated with green silk or gutta-percha, must be hidden in
the grass or buried, the battery hidden with the camera by
being covered with a brown or green cloth, and then artistically
disguised with earth, stones, thistles, dry cow-dung, or anything
there happens to be around, and at the last moment, not before,
the slide withdrawn. It is a good plan to shield the lens with
a cap until everything is completed; for on several occasions

I have gone through all these operations, generally an hour's

30 Pictures of Bird Life

SETTING PHOTO-TRAP. EXPOSURE MADE BY TOUCHING SILK THREAD.

work, and then, inadvertently releasing the shutter, have wasted
a plate, and had to commence again de novo. If tall grasses
or plants come into undue prominence, cut them down at an
carly stage of the proceedings, and make sure that none of
your disguisements come in front of the lens, and that no
wind which may spring up can blow grasses or leaves in front
of it after you have gone.

Whatever you do, avoid, if possible, any field tenanted by
sheep, horses, or cattle. I have had a pony come smelling around
my carefully arranged wires, with a pair of Lapwings dancing
about in front of its nose, until I have had to jump up and
drive it off to save a wasted plate. Once, when depending
upon a string from a hiding-place. a cow swallowed several

yards of it, in spite of my frantic efforts to frighten her away,

Automatic Photography by Electricity 31

and sheep have broken it and wasted plates no end. On
another occasion, when baiting for Hooded Crows with a dead
rabbit, my bait was discovered by a big black dog ; and though,
being pegged down, he could not take it away, he released the
shutter and left a photograph of his mongrel carcass instead
of the desired Hoodie. <All of which things are aggravating
to one’s patience and waste a lot of valuable time.

The best place for the shutter is behind the lens, for many
reasons ; but some birds cannot stand the uncanny look of the
single eye looking at them. I have watched a Lapwing go up
to the camera, look into the lens, give a bob or two, as if to
bow to it, and then settle on her eggs. But it seems fatal
to success with any of the Crow family. Jackdaws I have
tried, as well as Hoodie Crows, with rabbits, eg@s, and a variety
of attractions for the corvine taste, when the camera has
been perfectly invisible, but the lens looking out (although on
one occasion I made a tunnel about a foot long in front of it)
was always detected sooner or later. I watched a Jackdaw
once walk round with every precaution, then hurry forward, and
raise his beak to dig at two hen’s eggs temptingly displayed,
when the tail of his eye caught sight of the lens, and that was
quite sufficient. That Jack departed eggless, but un-photo-
graphed, leaving me very wroth, but at the same time amused
at his hurried and undignified departure.

There is a good deal of interest in this photo-trapping,
and not a little uncertainty. You may find you have caught
nothing, or that you have got something you never expected,

more especially when depending upon a bait to attract to

32 Pictures of Bird Life

the desired spot. Meal-worms are the great bonne-bouche
for Nightingales; but Robins are equally fond of them; and
as these latter are much more numerous and twice as bold,
the chances are that some hungry Robin will discover the
attractive morsel first and promptly annex it. And if a
Robin once finds out that you are putting out meal-worms,
it will come again and again, and seize them as fast as
you can put them out, without waiting till your back 1s
turned; so that, unless you want to be ruined in_ plates,
you will have to give it up and_ select another place.
Even at a nest you may perhaps get another than the
rightful owner thereof, and the result may possibly be
more valuable; for the negative of an egg-stealing Crow
caught in flagrante delicto, or of a Cuckoo visiting some
small bird’s nest with felonious intent, would be of extreme
interest and value. There is, in fact, all the uncertainty
of regular trapping without the element of cruelty which
is almost unavoid-
able.

Instead of the
long hours of hope-
less suffering and
intolerable agony,
only to end in a
cruel death, the
bird or animal, by

simply touching a

NIGHTINGALE TAKING MEAL-WOoRM. thread, has Ie =

Automatic Photography by Electricity 33

corded its presence and appearance on a sensitive plate
without knowing that anything has happened. A permanent
record of the bird’s appearance has been obtained without
any sacrifice of life or the suffering of any pain.

The varied nature of the positions selected by birds
makes it impossible to depend upon any one_ particular
method of using or releasing the automatic photo-trap.
What is possible on the ground, for instance, is not by
any means practicable up a tree; and there is plenty of
occasion for all one’s resource and ingenuity. In the case
of water-birds it should be possible, on a small and narrow
stream, to stretch a silk thread from bank to bank just
above the surface of the water, so that any swimming bird
would touch it in passing and complete the electric circuit.
There is, in fact, no end to the devices which may be
made use of in this branch of work. It is hardly necessary
to say that the greater one’s knowledge of the habits of
birds the greater chance there is of success.

It is quite possible to induce some birds to perch upon
any twig you may select, or to put a twig or branch on
purpose for them to sit on, with every chance of their
acceptance of your invitation. _Whinchats, Butcher-birds,
and Spotted Flycatchers, for instance, are fairly easy to
manage in this respect, and I have succeeded in persuading
Nightingales to settle where I wished. Some species seem
to be gifted with abnormal acuteness of sense. Water-hens
are as difficult as any birds I know to circumvent. When
you are expecting them to approach by water, they are in

34 Pictures of Bird Life

all probability on the ground
somewhere behind your hiding-
place, perfectly aware of your
presence, and taking stock of all
your proceedings.

There are few scenes in bird
life more satisfying in an artistic
sense than the picture of a Water-
hen lazily paddling among the

reeds, nodding its head and flirting

Cock Wuincuat (Pratincola rubetra), ts tail at every stroke, so asete
display the white under-tail coverts,
bird and reeds reflected in the glassy surface, and the
reflections just broken by the ripple caused by its movye-
ments. What hours I have spent in the vain endeavour
to portray such a simple and common scene as this, which
may be enjoyed in almost every pond in the kingdom!
It is necessary for success to get the bird in a patch of
water reflecting the sky, and it is such a skulker that it
seems to know what you want, and to be persistent in
keeping to the reflection of the bank and trees, where its
dusky plumage does not get the contrast necessary for a
good photograph in the short exposure which alone you
are enabled to give.
In watching the ways of Nature’s children, the artistic
beauty of the unconscious pictures they make amid the
scenes of their daily life is, I think, the greatest induce-

ment to the desire of obtaining pictorial records of their

Automatic Photography by Electricity 35

actions. The artist will, in fact, derive as much _ pleasure
as the naturalist, and the sensations of each will be so
blended as to make any attempt to analyse them or to

differentiate one from the other a matter of impossibility.

CHAPTER III
Photographic Outfit

As to the photographic outfit, it may perhaps be useful
if I describe my own kit, which is now the result of about
ten years’ experience.

The lenses are the most important as well as the most
expensive items, several of them being necessary. First comes
the 'Tele-photo lens before mentioned. This is a difficult—in
fact, a very difficult—lens to work with: but it is an absolute
necessity for an ornithologist. Mine is the simple form, as
first brought out by the inventor, Mr. Dallmeyer, now, I
believe, not made, as it has been superseded by the later
form with a Portrait lens and a Negative lens attached to
the back. With this lens the majority of the birds as
depicted in this volume have been photographed. Then I
use two Optimus lenses, a R.R. of 103-inch focus and a
Euryscope of 83 inch: with these two nearly all the nests
have been photographed. Lately I have procured a Dall-
meyer Stigmatic of 7-inch focus. This is a most useful
lens, and I wish I had had it sooner: in confined situations a
short-focus lens is often a necessity, and in dozens of cases

would have saved me much trouble and given a better result.

Photographic Outfit 37

The cameras consist of a whole-plate Optimus camera, on
an Ashford stand—the best, the lightest, and the strongest
of all stands. (I have stood on mine before now.)

I have also a quarter-plate reflecting camera, provided
with a focussing eye-piece and mirror, through which I can
look horizontally on to the focussing-glass, which gives the
exact image seen through the lens itself. This takes the
Tele-photo lens, and also the Euryscope and the Stigmatic.
Here, I may say, all my things are interchangeable—all the
cameras go on the same stand, all the lenses go in all the
cameras, etc., etc. Instead of slides or changing-boxes there
is a single slide, with a leather changing-sleeve attached
thereto, which holds a box of plates, and when they are
used any number of fresh boxes can be used one by one.
This camera, besides fixing on to the Ashford stand, also
screws on to a gun-stock made of willow, so that I can
use it from the shoulder like a gun, or rest it on my knee
like a rifle, or with the Euryscope lens it can be used
as an ordinary reflecting hand camera.

Then there is the electric camera described in Chapter IT.
This is a_ half-plate, rather solidly made, which takes all
lenses, and is provided with metal dark- slides and_ the
electric shutter behind lens of my own design, made by
Messrs. Dallmeyer.

(This camera has since become unusable, having suffered
too much from exposure to damp by being left in wet
ditches and similar places all night, so as to be ready for

the proverbial early bird in the morning. I now use a

38 Pictures of Bird Life

5x4 camera, fitted with an old focal plane shutter, which,
however, works now before the lens. It takes a single lens
of 14-inch focus, besides the R.R., Kuryscope, and Stigmatic,
and has a changing-box with twelve plates.)

As for plates, they are all good, and I firmly believe in
everybody sticking to one brand and knowing what it will
do by experience. For tele-photo work the very fastest
plates are hardly fast enough sometimes. Cadett Lighting
and Spectrum and Imperial flash-light plates have been used,
and are all of them very good. For nests I prefer a plate
of ordinary speed, and have found Imperial ordinary plates
most excellent. Except for working in a very high wind,
I would not ask for anything better; but on such occasions
their special-rapid plate is perhaps to be preferred. Another
beautifully clean and brilhant plate for nest work is the
Warwick instantaneous plate. For developers I believe in
old-fashioned pyro, with soda as accelerator. But in these
matters we all have our own opinions and_ prejudices, and
there is plenty of room for difference of opinion.

Then, besides the purely photographic outfit, a good
field-glass is a sine gud non. With such a load of necessary
tools to be carried about, every ounce of weight is a
matter of importance, and before the introduction of the
prismatic glasses a powerful glass was a_ serious addition
to the kit, already over-heavy. Now a glass as powerful
as a telescope weighs so little as to be unnoticed. The
innate timidity and incessant watchfulness displayed by each

and every member of the animal creation make some

WabpDING IN SPANISH LAGOON.

40 Pictures of Bird Life

assistance to the sight absolutely necessary, and an ordinary
field-glass is an immense improvement on the naked eye;
but the new prismatic glasses present the object with
such clearness and vivid distinctness that they are as
superior to the old-fashioned glass as that was to the
unassisted eyesight, while being half the size and half the
weight. They also give a much larger field of view.
Looking at a bird forty or fifty yards away with a Goerz
glass, medium power, I have been fairly astonished at the
brillaney and microscopic sharpness rendered by it. Not
only can you distinguish clearly the delicate markings of the
plumage, but the very fibre of its feathers and the twinkle
of its eye can be seen as distinctly as if you were watching
a bird in a cage clese at hand. In fact, you can see it
much more distinctly, for the glass appears to give a strong
stereoscopic effect, so that the bird seems to stand out from
its surroundings in a most wonderful manner.

If much of marsh work be attempted—and it is,
I think, the most fascinating—then wading-trousers are
necessary. They should come well up to the shoulders, like
those which are worn by salmon-fishers, as the water is nearly
always very deep and the bottom soft. The camera then
‘an. be manipulated in four and five feet of water. Nothing
is more aggravating than the attempt to use a camera on
its tripod on a small boat or narrow punt. As a rule it is
absolutely impossible to give anything but an instantaneous
exposure, and for photographing nests instantaneous exposures

are no good. A small stop, a moderately fast plate, and

Photographic Outfit 41

CLIMBING TO A Rook’s NEST.

a prolonged exposure is the rule, except in a very few
exceptional instances.

If I had been born a bird, I should have liked to have
been web-footed and to have lived in a marsh. Nothing
gives me greater pleasure than working in such situations,
surrounded on all sides by a waving sea of fresh green reeds.
As I sit trying to collect my scattered thoughts, distracted
by the usual uncouth noises of a suburban street, I long
for the silent reed-bed and the pleasant days I have spent
wading in remote and watery wildernesses alone with the
birds, and wonder whether I shall ever enjoy the like again.

For rock work ropes and a crowbar will be wanted.
It is one thing, however, going down a rope, and another

to get a decent photograph when you are down.

42 Pictures of Bird Life

For tree-climbing a short length of rope is sometimes
very useful, and so are, on occasions, climbing-irons. They
want some practice, however, and are awkward things, and,
in fact, rather dangerous, until you are used to them, when
they will no doubt enable you to climb trees otherwise
impracticable. I am not a good climber, but I have
generally managed to do without their assistance. They
add considerably to the load to be carried, and are best left
at home in reserve, unless you know they are lkely to be

wanted.

CHAPTER BV
Bird Life in a Suburban Parish

Fortunate indeed it is for English naturalists that the
migratory impulse among birds induces so many species
to visit this country. Our resident birds are but few,

and are in too many instances dwindling in numbers, or

Nest or Misser-rurusu (Turdus viscivorus).

bt. Pictures of Bird Life

Nest OF SONG-THRUSH (Turdus musicus).

even gradually becoming extinct: and if it were not for
the constant passing to and fro of the summer and winter
migrants, our fields and woods would be almost devoid
of life.

More especially is the fact to be appreciated by suburban
observers. Dwellers in the country, and more particularly
near the coast, have the regular influx of vast flocks of
wild-fowl to take the place of the departing summer visitors.

Around London, however, there is no such arrival to watch

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish Ad

for, and comparatively few birds are to be seen until the
advent of spring.

Then, as soon as the first Chiff-chaff, braving the cold
and boisterous winds of March, is heard in the tree-tops,
there is the certainty that our welcome summer friends will
soon be here, and that thousands of tiny voyagers have

already started on their long journey. Leaving behind

Youne Turusues (Turdus musicus).

them the land of cactus, palm, and aloe, they speed ever
northwards, either across the Straits of Gibraltar and
through Spain and France, or through Italy vid Malta.
Flying mostly by night, and feeding by day, they press
forward, over plain and _ sierra, vineyard and mountain.
Losing numbers in nets and traps, and preyed upon by

Hawks and predatory beasts, at last, leaving the bitter cold

4G Pictures of Bird Life

of the mountain-passes and the dangers of the sea-passage,
they reach the hedgerow in Old England where they were
born; and all the summer through the quiet fields and

leafy lanes, even close up to the great city itself, are

Nest oF BLackpirD (Turdus merula).

enlivened by a diversity of feathered life, and graceful
forms and joyous sounds greet us on every side.

A suburban parish, only partly outside the London
postal district, and on the fringe of a dense population,
is not the most likely neighbourhood for observing the
life habits of wild birds, and yet it is surprising what a

number of species are to be met with as more or _ less

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish AT

regular visitors at one season or the other, without taking
into account those accidental occurrences which happen
from time to time. For such an event as the picking
up of an exhausted Petrel or other pelagic species in an
inland locality seems to me to be quite devoid of any
more than a passing interest, and to have no ornithological
importance whatever. The particular county in which the
storm-driven wanderer happened to fall has no real claim
to consider it as an inhabitant, although our British and
county lists of species are, as a matter of fact, artificially
swelled by the inclusion of many such cases.

My idea in compiling these notes is not so much _ to

Nest of Wuincuat (Pratincola rubetra).

48 Pictures of Bird Life

gather together records of such rare and unusual events,
but rather to describe what I have myself seen of the
abundance of suburban bird life, to enumerate the different
species (ninety-one) observed during the years 1894 to 1903

in the parish of Enfield, and to illustrate, as far as pos

REDSTART AND Nest (Ruticilla phenicurus).

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 49

sible by photographs, their nests,
their eggs and young, and, above
all, the birds themselves, feeding,
sitting on their nests, tending their
young ones, and, in fact, engaged
in their ordinary pursuits, amid
the scenes of their daily life.
Enfield parish, one of the
largest in England, is very nearly

connected with the outskirts of

London, only a few open spaces

Rosin (Erithacus rubetra).

now intervening between ‘Totten-

ham and other dense centres of population; and year by
year these few spaces are gradually being absorbed and
swallowed up by the rapidly advancing tide of bricks and
mortar. Rows of mean-looking houses now cover what were
but a few years ago pleasant orchards and green fields, and
places where the Lark sang and Blackbird and Thrush piped
from the tree-tops now resound with the yells of the coster-
monger and the hideous jangle of the piano-organ.

Old historic mansions and spacious gardens are giving
place to streets of small houses, to accommodate the
thousands of workmen brought backwards and forwards daily
by the cheap workmen’s trains, which are the most potent
factors in the transformation which is rapidly altering the
aspect and character of the place. It is quite right and
proper that this should be so—better far that the thousands
of working men and women and the little children should

50 Pictures of Bird Life

be enabled to live amid wholesomer surroundings than pent
up in the squalid courts and alleys of London; but at
the same time it is impossible to avoid looking back with
some pardonable regret to the old state of things.

To the northward, however, the houses become fewer,
and a large expanse of fine open country stretches for
some miles between Barnet and Potter’s Par, while to the
eastward Epping Forest and the marshes of the Lea afford
shelter and food
for many of the
feathered tribes.
Large woods
and game _ pre-
serves, and the
estates of large
landed proprietors,
interspersed — with
farms of pastoral]
land, ensure an
abundance of bird
life which com-
pares very favour-
ably with many a
more remote local-
ity. Besides the
ordinary species

which might be

Nest oF Rosin (Ertthacus rubetra). expec ted in an

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 51

inland place, several maritime species have found that the
pools and filter-beds and flooded fields of the sewage-
farm afford them suitable food and congenial surroundings,
approximating closely to the mud-flats and banks of tidal
ooze, so beloved by many of the waders and_ kindred
species. Here, at certain seasons especially, they may
be observed in numbers wading in the shallow water
and busily feeding, just as if they were in some tidal
estuary.

The adjacent marshes afford sport to the Cockney gunner
during the winter months. When snow hes on the ground,
and the pools in the forest and elsewhere are covered with
ice, many Snipe and Ducks and a few Teal frequent the banks
of the old River Lea, as it wanders in devious course beside
the navigable canal. ‘To get these, however, it is necessary
to be up betimes. The first gun over the ground after the
grey dawn has broken and the first rays of light have begun
feebly to penetrate the fog, which hangs thickly over
the low-lying marshlands on each side of the river, may
have good sport in suitable weather; but it is not very
encouraging, for one who has three or four miles to tramp
over frozen snow on a foggy December morning before day-
break, to find, when he arrives at the river, footsteps in the
snow, which prove conclusively that somebody, perhaps one
who lives close to the spot, has got the start of him. Such
has been my experience before now, in the days when the gun
was more familiar to me than the camera. At other times,

waiting for the dawn, I have heard all round me the big

~t
.
~

» Pictures of Bird Life

Hocks of Lapwings
feeding, and the
swish of wings as
a lot of Golden
Plover have dashed
past in their im-
petuous flight, and
have discerned
through the mist
the grey and
ghostly figure of a
motionless Heron,
intent on procur-
ing some fish for
breakfast. In such
weather many
Fieldfares, Red-
wings, and Larks
are shot by a class

of men who do

not consider, or

NIGHTINGALE (Dautlas luscinia) AND NEST.

care, that by the
constant popping at such small game the more desirable
birds are driven away to quieter retreats.

Most of my observations and work have been done on
a small farm of poor land, chiefly pastoral, quite close to
the inhabited part of the parish. But one or two important

characteristics help to make it a very good hunting-ground

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 53

for the ornithologist. One is that it is bordered on one side
by a large wood, strictly preserved; and the other consists
in the fact that it is watered by a small stream, which
carries off the surface-water of the valley through which it
runs. This stream through much of its length is covered
over with an almost impenetrable thicket of bramble, wild
rose, sloe, and other prickly shrubs and bushes, the home of
many Water-hens, Wild Ducks, Nightingales, Sedge-warblers,
Bullfinches, Turtle-doves, and many other kinds which delight
in similar situations. Some of these strongholds are only to
be explored with great difficulty, and at the imminent risk
of damage to both person and clothing, the only method
being to crawl in on all fours, or even, prone on one’s
stomach, to wriggle in like a lizard.

The farm, too, abounds in large, old-fashioned hedges, high

NiGuTrinGALe (Daulias luscinia) stTTinG.

54 Pictures of Bird Life

enough to provide nesting-sites for many Wood-pigeons, and
thick enough to shelter myriads of Nightingales and small
birds. ‘These hedges are, however, gradually being reduced
and *plashed,” to the noticeable diminution of the number
of birds to be seen; and the recent introduction of sheep
seems to tend to drive away the Nightjars, which formerly
nested annually among the bracken at the edge of many
hedges bor-
dering on the
wood,

The Mis-
sel-thrush is a
most abund-
ant species
throughout
the year
may be no-
ticed) more

particularly

perhaps at the

GREATER WHITETHROAT (Sylvia cinerea).

end of the
summer, when great numbers of them frequent the grass-
fields, hopping about over the parched turf, apparently
finding food of some kind—but what I have never been
able to discover. At this season of the year the ground is
sometimes as hard as iron, and the short turf almost burnt
up, dry, and yellow, on which these fine, bold-looking birds

are extremely conspicuous, and look very light in colour.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 55

At other times they are not so much in evidence, and the
first intimation of their presence is generally the harsh,
cackling alarm-note as they leave some high hedge or bush.

The nest is built very early in the year; and though

there is generally no attempt at any concealment, the nests

}

% =
ey,

Ne ¢ ) a! y
ad a

Nest oF GREATER WHITETHROAT (Sjluia cinerea),

do escape notice more often than those of the Blackbird
and Thrush, partly perhaps because the situation is rather
higher—generally about seven or eight feet from the ground,
and occasionally on the extreme summit of a small larch-
tree. They are more usually firmly fixed in the main fork

of a hawthorn- or fruit-tree, never among the smaller twigs,

and are
strongly,
a il) mo asm

row hilly:

made a
most appro-
priate and

fitting home

GREATER WHITETHROAT (Sylvia cinerea).

Pictures of Bird Life

bold,

songster, which braves the

for such a hardy

wildest weather with its
cheery song.
The

pears to have no fear when

Missel-thrush ap-
nesting, and will drive away
any bird, whatever its size,
if it ventures too near. I

have several

times been
baulked of
p hotograph-
ing
other species

some

when I have
inadvert-
ently hidden
up near a
Both

persistently

Missel-thrush’s nest.
birds have
mobbed me, and made such
an uproar with their harsh,
continuous scolding as to
plainly betray my presence
to every bird within hearing.

The Song - thrush, in
the

spite ot enormous

Bird Lite in a Suburban Parish 57

number of its nests which are destroyed by boys and vermin
(one is almost tempted to write ‘“ boys and other vermin”)
in the early part of the year, is still one of the commonest
of our native birds. In the early hours of the morning, and
again in the evening, it mounts to the topmost spray of
some tree and pours forth its pleasant song. This is but a
sunple melody, mostly made up of repetitions of single notes,

in which traces of almost articulate speech can be detected.

Youne Lesser WuitTetTHROAT (Sylvia curruca),

One bird repeats, “Did he do it? did he do it?” and
another, * Cup of tea, cup of tea,” over and over again. But
so pure and fresh is its voice, and so clear and melodious
are its notes, as to earn for it the admiration of all. — Its
rank as a musician is so fully recognised, even by science,
as to be shown in its scientific name—Turdus musicus ; and
not only so, but it has earned for its family the foremost

place in the scientific order of birds, as embodying the highest

58 Pictures of Bird Life

GARDEN-WARBLER (Sylvia hortensis).

type of avian development. The family of Thrushes now
heads the list of birds, vice Eagles deposed. Art has
triumphed over strength.

The nest is so well known as to be familiar to everybody :
and in the earlier months of the year—for no bird begins to
nest earlier than the Thrush—it is frequently made as though
the bird rather courted observation than desired to conceal
it; and the lovely blue eggs spotted with black are ruthlessly
taken by the first boy who passes that way—too often only
to be smashed at once, out of sheer mischief and love of
destruction. Only a very small proportion of the first clutches
of eggs can éver be hatched; but luckily the birds have
several broods, and the later nests, made after the hedges

are in full leaf, have a better chance of being unobserved.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 59

Like so many other timid birds, it shows considerable courage
in defence of its young. One day last year, passing along a
hedge-side, I heard a Thrush in distress, and found the mother-
bird doing her best—unavailingly, of course—to drive away
a pair of marauding Jackdaws, which were bent on devouring
her half-fledged young. One young bird had to be killed
to put it out of its pain, the black robbers having pecked
large holes in its plump and tender body. On returning
some hours later, the empty and bloodstained nest showed
that the villainous Jackdaws, undeterred at being driven off,
had returned as soon as my back was turned, and_ had
completed their nefarious banquet.

On another occasion, while waiting for a Nightjar to

Nest oF GARDEN-WARBLER (Sylvia hortensis)

60 Pictures of Bird Life

return to her two eggs, a Thrush, which had a nest in a
neighbouring bush, saw the Nightjar flitting about, and so
hustled and drove it about that it took refuge almost
between my feet, and remained there quite a considerable
time.

The nest is carefully and curiously made, being finished
off with a lining of mud and cow-dung, moulded by the
bird’s breast into a deep, cup-like form, and then rubbed
over with powdered rotten wood. Why the birds should
take the pains to make such a watertight nest cannot be
explained. One would suppose that a looser construction,
which would allow the rain to drain through, would be much
more practically useful. wo or three days are allowed for
this lining to set and harden before the eggs are laid.

The Thrush is essentially a bird which follows cultiva-
tion: fields and gardens are more to its liking than moors
and wild, barren situations, where the Ring-ouzel takes its
place. Its favourite locality is a large garden, with a good
expanse of well-kept lawn, and plenty of shelter mn the form
of laurel and evergreen bushes and shrubberies. _ Hours
before the gardener is up and about the Thrushes are
hopping over the lawns, and scratching the fallen leaves
and damp places for worms, slugs, and snails: the shell of
these last are cracked by being banged violently against a
stone. For these useful services, carried on most indus-
triously all the year round, and for the chorus of bird music
daily for a great part of the year, it is surely entitled not

only to protection and safety, but to a share of the fruit in

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 61

due season. If it takes a few strawberries when they are
ripe, surely it has fully earned them by keeping the
beds clear of slugs and caterpillars and other insect pests
throughout the year. ‘Too many of us accept their services,
and enjoy their presence and sweet minstrelsy, but grudge

them their fair share of the produce they have helped to

Hen Bracxcap (Sylvia atricapilla) on Nest.

raise. It would be just as reasonable to expect the gardener
to work without wages.

Though a resident with us throughout the year, the
Thrush appears to be subject to migratory impulses from
one part of the country to another, and immense numbers
cross the sea.

The Redwing and the Fieldfare are only winter visitors,

arriving regularly every autumn from their Scandinavian

62 Pictures of Bird Life

homes, and remaining with us well into the summer, long
after our resident Thrushes have begun their nesting opera-
tions. Like all birds which breed in northern latitudes, they
appear to know perfectly well the difference in the seasons
in their summer and winter resorts, and are never deluded
by warm weather here to take a too early departure, only
to find themselves without food in a region still covered
with snow and ice.

Unhke some birds which visit us from wild and un-
inhabitated districts, these birds are remarkably shy and wary

the Fieldfare particularly so—-and do not readily allow a
nearer approach than about a hundred yards. When this
limit is reached, the whole flock, which has been clustered on
the topmost branches of some high tree, fly off to another,
about fifty or a hundred yards farther on, each bird utter-
ing its loud alarm note—** Chack, chack !”—as it takes wing.
This note can be heard high overhead when large flocks
are on the move from one part to another, and doubtless
serves to keep the flock together, as each bird proclaims its
whereabouts, and stragglers can trace the progress of the
main body.

The Blackbird is another frequenter of gardens and cul-
tivated fields, and there are few lawns where the ‘* Ouzel
cock so black of hue” may not be seen, before the morning
dew is off the grass, hunting for worms and slugs. With
what intentness’ it listens, its head on one side, and the
bright, lustrous, orange-rimmed eyes eagerly scanning the

grass! Then with a spring it hops forward, and_ the

‘LSAN ANV (s7p2y90.7 sndossojjAyq) NIXM-MOTITM

G4. Pictures of Bird Life

luckless worm is seized by the
orange beak, dragged out,
and promptly swallowed, de-
spite its convulsive wriggles
and squirmings.

Sharing the labours of the
Thrush, it also shares the
rewards, taking its tithe of
ripe strawberries and cherries.
To me the fairest and best-
kept garden in the world

would seem but a_ barren

CREO RUT Ss ISS wilderness without such
glimpses of bird life,—the Blackbird and Thrush on the
dewy grass; the Robin, with its bold and sprightly familiarity :
the sober Flycatcher, performing its quiet but useful services
throughout the long summer day; the burnished Swallow.
on tireless wings, sweeping to and fro so unceasingly ; and
the lovely Martin, twittering happily in its mud nest under
the eaves. The presence so near our houses of such graceful
visitors as these ought to be looked upon as a privilege and
a constant enjoyment, without taking any account of the
undoubted good they do in devouring grubs and insects.

The Blackbird is, too, a most accomplished musician,
and its mellow flutings are by some preferred to the song
of the Thrush. By its constant vigilance, and its loud,
rattling alarm-note, which gives warning to all within

hearing that danger is approaching, it merits the title of

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 65

the “sentinel” of the fields. Many a promising “ stalk,”
with both gun and camera, has been baulked by its timidity
and unceasing vigilance.

The Stonechat is very scarce and local, and I only
remember seeing two or three about, and have never yet
succeeded in finding a nest. In the next parish, however,

of Edmonton, it is a common bird. Numbers may be seen

SEDGE-WARBLER FEEDING YouNG (Acrocephalus phragmitis).

in the cemetery there any day throughout the summer,
and I feel sure that they nest in the long grass at the
sides of the graves. The birds themselves are fond of
sitting on the gravestones. This cemetery is quite a
favourite resort for birds; the following species breeding
there to my knowledge — Lark, Meadow-pipit, Blackbird,
Thrush, Partridge, Red-legged Partridge, Carrion - crow,

Martin, Swallow, Hedge-sparrow, and Cuckoo,

ST.

(Acrocephalus phragmitis) AND NE

DEDGE-WARBLER

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 67

The W hinchat,
on the contrary,
is exceedingly
abundant—1in fact,
quite one of the
commonest birds.
In every field and
meadow a pair or
two of these
sprightly and
handsome little
birds may be seen
flitting from the
top of some low
plant or spray to
another. The
note sounds like
“Utick-utick,
utick - tick - tick,”

incessantly re-

Nest or HEDGE-spARROW (Accentor modularis).

peated, and that of the young just after leaving the nest is
just like “Egypt-Egypt.”. Their nest is one of the most
difficult to find, so well hidden is it among the long grass.
It is generally, or at all events very often, placed at the
foot of some little sapling or upright plant, which serves
as a perch for the birds.

One pair, which had a nest of young underneath a

fallen branch, always perched on one end of it every time

68 Pictures of Bird Life

they came with food. This fact once ascertained, it was
comparatively easy to photograph them from the shelter
of a bush not many yards away. On one such occasion
an extra large mouthful was plainly visible in the beak of
the bird, but not until the plate was developed did I guess
the nature of it. It proved to be a large beetle—a most
indigestible-looking morsel for nestlings; but I suppose the
bird might be trusted to know its own business best.

Another pair became very tame, finding by experience
that I was not dangerous, and I made a series of exposures
eventually at a distance of not more than two yards in the
open, without any attempt at concealment. The cock was
in this case much the bolder, contrary to my _ usual
experience. So tame did he get, that eventually he would
come and sit, just in front of the camera, on different
twigs stuck in the ground for the purpose: and I finished
up by photographing him as he sat on the handle-bar of
my bicycle.

For these photographs I used the latest development of
‘amera for this work—viz. a tele-photo lens and a_ short
reflecting camera, mounted on a gun-stock. This is a
much handier weapon than a camera on a_ triped in
following a bird about in its movements from place to
place and from twig to twig. When using the tripod
in photographing a moving object at short distance, the
readiest way is to place the point of one tripod leg—the
back one—on the toe of your boot. Then, by moving your

foot backwards and forwards, the camera can be raised and

Brue Vir (Parus coeruleus) anD ELDER-STUMP CONTAINING NEST

70 Pictures of Bird Life

lowered with greater ease and speed, and with less noise
and risk of slipping, and it leaves you a hand free. This
alone is a
great advan-
tage. I could
often find a
use for three

or four hands,

and a spare
eye or two
would be use-
ful.

M anipu-

lating a whole-

plate camera
up a tree, for
instance, or
on a long
ladder, is very
often an awk-
ward bit of

work, and,

single-handed.

Nest oF Marsu-tit (Parus palustris). HoLE EXCAVATED BY mav verv well
BirD CUT OPEN TO sHow NEST. 2

take over an

hour's hard labour before you can get satisfactorily focussed.

To obtain the photograph of the Spotted Flycatcher’s nest

on page 87, the spike of one leg of the tripod rested on

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 71

the topmost rung of the ladder, and was there lashed with
string, the remaining two legs being lashed to overhanging
boughs of the tree—an oak. As these boughs were thin, and
moved freely with the slightest motion, focussing was no easy
job, especially as I had to stand on the ladder and lean
backwards to look into the focussing-glass. The only hold
within reach being the same thin boughs which held the
legs, the operation was somewhat of a shaky one, and the
subsequent work of putting in the double back and with-
drawing the slide had to be performed with no hold at
all, both hands being occupied. Under the circumstances
I was rather surprised that the negative was any good,
especially as the £32 stop necessitated an exposure of
ten seconds. And this was only an ordinary case, with no
special difficulties about it. A more difficult as well as a
more dangerous work was the photographing of a Barn-
owls nest at the top of a_ thirty-foot ladder. Leaning
backwards to focus, my weight was entirely supported by
the extreme tips of two fingers on the edge of the hole
(I could not reach with the other fingers), while the other
hand worked the focussing-screw. To ensure getting at
least one good negative, I tried to expose both plates,
and, owing to the difficulty of the situation, only exposed
the same plate twice over, thereby spoiling both!

The Redstart is often met with, though it can hardly be
described as common. It is a conspicuously beautiful bird, and
the nest is sufficiently scarce to be worth finding. Holes in

old apple- and pear-trees are favourite places; the one shown

72 Pictures of Bird Life

was in a sycamore-tree, at a most convenient height from
the ground. The six eggs were exactly as they appear in
the photograph, plainly visible from the outside, which is not
usually the
case.

The Red-
breast is with-
out doubt THE
bird of the
suburbs the
universal and
favoured _ fre-
quenter of
every garden.
Its cheery song
during the
winter, when
other songsters
are silent, and
its familiar
boldness, make
it a welcome

guest with

everybody,and

Nest or Lone-raitep Tit (Acredula caudata).

one pardons it
for its greediness and pugnacity. Two rival Robins will
fight with a fierce disregard of consequences almost incredible

in a bird of such small size.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 73

The Robin may, with a little perseverance, be induced to
feed from one’s hand, and to enter a room through the open
window, and its ways are then very engaging. It is always
a mystery to me how it escapes the claws of the prowling

cat. While nesting operations are in progress, however,

Hate-mMAve Nest or Lone-taitep Tit (Acredula caudata).

it is, like many other birds, much quieter and less con-
spicuous.

Gardening operations, and especially digging, interest
Robins not a little. An infallible way to bring one within reach
is to take a spade and dig a few spadefuls of earth. Then
leave the spade sticking up and retire a little. If there is a

Robin anywhere near, it will certainly come and search over

74 Pictures of Bird Life

the up-turned earth for worms, and afterwards it will as
certainly sit on the handle of the spade. If a camera be left,
focussed on the handle, and a long string or tube be fitted to
the shutter, you may get a photograph of it, provided the
shutter is a noiseless one, otherwise the result will be failure.
The first time I tried it, the Robin did all I expected of it ; but
although the shutter was set about the twentieth or thirtieth
part of a second, five exposures only secured me five photo-
graphs of an empty spade-handle. This will give an idea
of the lightning quickness of a bird’s movements: at the
click of the shutter it had hopped off quickly enough to
avoid being taken.

The Nightingale is a very abundant species, much more
so than people in general seem to imagine. On their first
arrival, before pairing, and also after the young are hatched,

these birds make a curious croaking noise, like so many

Prep WacraliL (Motacilla lugubris).

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 75

Prep Wactaits Nest witn Youne (Motacilla lugubris).

frogs. Their song may be heard in every direction in the
fields and in many of the gardens, not only in the evening,
but at all hours of the day. The quite mistaken notion
that it only sings at night is probably traceable to the
poets, who are also responsible for the idea that the song
is of a melancholy nature. This may be perceptible per-
haps to the poetic mind, which may be, and_ probably is,
more sensitive to minute shades of expression than that
of ordinary folk; to me the song seems the result of
intense joy. |
Poets are, in fact, not to be trusted, however much they
may be admired. The truth is not in them and concerns

them not. A good rhyme or a well-rounded sequence of

76 Pictures of Bird Life

words is more important to them than the mere truth of
any fact.

I think it is Mrs. Hemans who writes of the sky-blue
eggs of the Lark! ‘Tennyson is more poetic, and also more
correct, when he writes:

As the music of the moon
Sleeps in the plain eggs of the Nightingale.

And even ‘Tennyson is not altogether perfect. Some of his
allusions to birds are, how-
ever, particularly happy.
What, for instance, can
be more true than the
line

As careful Robins eye the

delver’s toil 2
You can almost see the
redbreasted favourite of
childhood, Cock - robin,

watching with sidelong

glance and bright black

YeLLow WacraliL (Motacilla rai).

eyes the spadefuls of earth
thrown up by the gardener, and pouncing eagerly on luckless
worm or earwig as soon as uncovered.
Or, as a forecast of spring, what could be more fitting than
The building: Rook ‘ill caw from the windy tall elm-tree,

And the tufted Plover pipe along the fallow lea,

And the Swallow ‘ill come back again with summer o’er ithe wave?

Nightingales, though shy and retiring, may be easily

‘LSAN ANV (1104 vYIvIOYT) TIVLOVAA MOTITX

78 Pictures of Bird Life

4 /SS"

Nest oF Meavow-pipit (Anthus pratensis).

watched, especially when the young are hatched and the
parent birds are busy supplying them with insect food. I
have had a close and friendly acquaintance with more than
one pair, and have photographed what I have some reasons
for supposing to be the same pair for two successive summers.
The second nest was situated a few yards away from the
spot where they had successfully reared a brood the previous
year. On the first attempt. I had to wait in a ditch covered
over with a green cloth for seven hours before the mother-
bird appeared at the nest. On their second visit they appeared
to recognise me as a friend of the family, and laid aside so
much of their usual timidity that I did not go through the

formality of the usual careful concealment. Though equipped

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 79

with a most alarming-looking camera, they visited their nest
to feed their young quite openly and fearlessly, and enabled
me to get several photographs within half an hour.

It is a delightful experience to thus watch at close quarters
the whole domestic economy of such interesting birds, and
to see the mother-bird flit from spray to spray in her search
for caterpillars and insects. They are most particular in
keeping the nest clean, searching it after every visit, and re-
moving in their beak the refuse of the young birds, flying
right off and dropping it many yards away.

The distribution of the Nightingale in England is curious.

Though so common in many parts, it fails to penetrate

Nest oF TreeE-pipit (Anthus, trivialis).

80 Pictures of Bird Life

very far westwards and north-
wards. It is only quite re-
cently that it has been recorded
from Devonshire and Yorkshire,
and in one Lincolnshire locality
where formerly it was unknown
it now nests sparingly every
year. The increased range of
such a famous songster is an
interesting fact, especially in
these days of extermination.
The first thing that strikes
one on seeing a Nightingale
is its large size and ruddy

colour, especially about the

“ON THE WaTcH.” tail. In its general appear-

Hen RED-BACKED SHRIKE (Lantus collurto). ; ‘ i
ance and attitudes it is a
typical Robin. The
same sprightly move-
ments, large — bright
eyes, drooping wings,

and long legs are at

once noticeable. The
young birds in their
first plumage are also
exceedingly like young

Robins, and may easily

be taken for them. Cock RED-BACKED SHRIKE (Lamius collurio) SEIZING AN INSECT.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 81

The nest is really a wonderful construction of dead oak-
leayes—a most intractable building-material, one would think.
The very deep hollow is lined with hair. In such a setting
the olive-brown eggs have a unique appearance—in fact, neither
nest nor eggs can possibly be mistaken or confounded with
those of any other British bird. It is invariably placed on
the ground, and whether in a ditch at the foot of some sapling,
or amid the stalks of a dense bed of nettles, it is always well
concealed, and only found after a careful search.

Their song, about which so much has been written in prose
and verse, is matchless in its purity and quality. In passionate
intensity it is unrivalled, and its characteristics are so unmis-
takable that once heard it can never again be mistaken. It
ceases after the young are hatched, after which the croaking
note is the only sound uttered.

The most common of all the Warblers, and the one
which has the widest distribution, is the Greater White-
throat. From its partiality to nettle-beds it is often known
as the “ Nettle-creeper,” and in some parts as the ‘* Hay-
bird” or “ Hay-chat.” It is an unobtrusive little bird both
in appearance and habits, and one not often seen in the
open, preferring, as it does, the shelter of thick hedges and
bushes. Here it creeps about all day, finding abundance
of food in the minute caterpillars and other insects so
numerous during the summer. So_ persistently shy and
skulking is it that for some years I tried in vain to
obtain a photograph; every attempt, however patient, always
resulted in failure. But eventually a pair was found nesting

82 Pictures of Bird Life

in a thick bed of nettles, and by visiting them daily for
some time they became so familiarised to my presence that
I had no difficulty in getting a series of photographs in
different positions.

Most birds, it will be found, approach their nest in the
same diréction. Small birds like the Warblers generally creep
through the thickest of the surrounding vegetation in mouse-
like fashion, and slip quietly and silently into the nest from the
back. Very often the first intimation of the approach of
the parent comes from the young birds, which suddenly pop
up ther heads and open their beaks suggestively. Some-
times from your hiding-place you can see a leaf or spray
quiver as the bird noiselessly makes her way along. Some,
again, fly openly from the top of one bush to another, like
Whinchats, and others keep up a constant wailing, querulous
note like Willow-wrens. But after a little watching you
will nearly always find there is some particular branch on
which the birds perch every time. The camera can then be
pointed and focussed on the place, all ready for the next
opportunity.

This particular pair of Whitethroats invariably used a
bramble-stalk which grew up diagonally, and at the foot
of which the nest was placed. Starting at the top, they
always crept down the stalk, gradually assuming a more
perpendicular position till the nest was reached, when,
stooping down to feed the young birds, their tails pointed
straight upwards. By focussing different parts of this bramble,

I obtained a variety of interesting positions, including one

collurio).

(Lanius

Nest oF RED-BACKED SHRIKE

84. Pictures of Bird Life

showing the old bird’s beak and part of her head inserted
down the young bird’s gaping throat.

The Lesser Whitethroat is distinctly more uncommon than
the last species, though several nests are found each year.
They are very similar in construction to the last, but a
little smaller, and are very often much higher up, some-
times almost at the top of a high hedge. In such a
situation you very seldom find a nest of the Greater
Whitethroat, which prefers a more lowly nesting-site among
brambles and low bushes. The eggs are rounder and smaller,
and of two quite distinct types: one, except in size, closely
resembles the egg of the Greater Whitethroat, and is of a
freckled greenish white: the other is always very round, and
the spots are distributed in a zone round the larger end,

leaving the rest of the egg almost colourless.

SPOTTED FLYCATCHER (Muscicapa grisola).

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 85

The birds are slighter and more elegant in appearance,
and not quite such persistent skulkers. Any close approach
to their nest is much resented: the little birds, with erected
crests and excited actions, will follow an intruder, vigorously
scolding the while with harsh and chiding note.

The Garden-warbler in some seasons almost rivals in
numbers the Greater Whitethroat, 1898 bringing an unusual
number of these birds to our neighbourhood. The nest much
resembles those of the two former species, but is perhaps a
little more shallow. <A favourite locality is among the bare,
leafless stems of bramble, below the thick cover of green leaves
which clothes the outside of the bush, and roofs in, as it were,
the space below. The eggs, however, are much more like
those of the Blackcap—in fact, it is sometimes impossible
to distinguish them. I have seen it somewhere stated that
the Garden-warbler and the Blackcap are never found in
equal abundance in the same place. Here, at all events,
facts seem to bear out the statement, for the Blackcap
is much less commonly met with than the other. I
have found a few nests, on one of which I photo-
graphed the russet-headed hen-bird, and have seen the cock
Blackcap take his share of domestic duties.

From its diminutive size and feeble flight the Goldcrest
is not a species one would expect to find in the habit of
migrating. It does so, however, in considerable numbers,
and occasionally remarkably large flocks arrive on the eastern
coast during autumn, some years being noted as_ bringing

unusual numbers.

86 Pictures of Bird Life

Howard Saunders says: * An unusual spring rush took
place in March and April, 1882. On such occasions bushes
in gardens on the coast are covered with birds as with
a swarm of bees; crowds flutter round the lanterns of light-
houses, and the rigging of fishing-smacks in the North Sea
is thronged with weary travellers.”

The following graphic account from the pen of the late
Mr. Cordeaux appears in the Zoologist for December, 1892:
“During this time the immigration was immense; greatest
in number were Golden-crested Wrens. . . . Golderests
everywhere——in hedges and gardens, dead thorns and hedge-
trimmings, rubbish-heaps, beds of nettles and dead Umbelli-
fere, the reeds in ditches, side of haystacks, and the thorn
fences of sheds and yards. The sallow thorns were densely
crowded. Many found shelter in the long sea-grass, and
others, again, crouched on the bare, rain-swept sands between
the sea and the dunes. Many might have been taken with
a butterfly-net. On this day I saw a very handsome Fire-
crest. I was standing in shelter of a big fence, watching
the Goldcrests working inland up the hedge and flitting close
to my face, when one tried first to alight on the stick of
an umbrella which I held horizontally over my shoulder, and
then perched on a twig within a foot of my nose.”

The date of this great “rush” of Goldcrests was
October 14th, 1892.

These exceedingly restless little birds are more readily
observed in the winter and early spring, when their minute

forms are more easily seen in the leafless hedges.

Sportep Frycatcuer (Muscicapa grisola) anp Nest of YOUNG,

$8 Pictures of Bird Life

Probably the first intimation
of its presence will be the sound
of a shrill) succession of high-
pitched notes like “* Zi-zi-zi,” as a
small party of Goldcrests explore
a small wayside bush. How in-
cessantly they flit from branch to
branch, sometimes head down-
wards lke a Tit, sometimes
hovering like a moth, until, after
having finished a rapid examina-
tion of the bush, they all dart off

with undulating flight one after the other to the next! They

Swa.iow (Hirundo rustica).

are often to be seen in company with Tits of several kinds.
During the summer they are not so readily seen among the
heavy and sombre foliage of the firs and evergreens in which

they build their nest. This nest. one of the most beautiful

examples of bird architecture we have, is always suspended
from the underside of a spreading horizontal bough of some
fir, larch, or yew, and, being compactly made of green moss,
very easily escapes notice. Even when found, it is not an
sasy nest to photograph, owing to the deep shadow cast
by overhanging branches, especially if of spruce or yew.
Two attempts have been failures, owing to the utter im-
possibility of seeing anything on the focussing-glass.

If the Swallow be the harbinger of summer, the Chiff
chaff is that of spring. While hedges and trees are still

bare and leafless, its note may be heard in the tree-tops like

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 89

* Chip-chip-chip,” at such a height that the minute form is
barely visible. The bird is smaller than the Willow-wren,
and has darker legs. The nest is domed like the Willow-
wrens nest; but the eggs, instead of being spotted with red,
have dark purple spots. It is very fond of frequenting
large gardens with plenty of undergrowth and low bushes.

The Wood-wren is more local, and I have not met with
it nearer than Broxbourne and Epping Forest.

By far the commonest of the three is the Willow-wren,
which abounds in every direction. Perhaps the place of all
others to look for it with certainty is in the outskirts of
a wood or plantation, where the trees are more open, and
where bushes, sallow, and such-like predominate amid
bracken and coarse grass. Here its slender, yellowish-brown
form may surely be seen searching the twigs and foliage
with graceful actions. Here its nest may be found care-
fully hidden among the coarse grass and bracken, domed
at the top, and comfortably lined with feathers. On the
ground is the usual place, but I have seen one quite three
feet high, and there is no doubt that it does occasionally
depart from its usual custom.

The nests are generally found by the bird flying out,
for they are by no means easy to discover. On two occasions
I have, while waiting near a Nightjar’s eggs to photograph
the old bird, found a Willow-wren’s in close proximity
by seeing the birds go in and out. They will feign lame-
ness in order to entice you away from the vicinity of their

eggs or young.

90 Pictures of Bird Life

The Reed-warbler I have not yet identified with certainty ;
it is not unlikely that it may have occurred once or
twice, as I have been told, on the Tea, and [I am almost
sure I saw one in a small patch of reeds one day early
in May.

The Sedge-warbler is exceedingly abundant. The name
of this bird is, however, I think, very misleading. It is
not particularly fond of sedge, nor is it at all restricted to
marshy places. Any thick hedge and rough, prickly bank
will afford it a suitable home, and it is rather partial to
railway embankments. It is certainly very fond of osier-
beds and marshes, but in the latter it occurs in the drier
parts. In either of them its characteristically loud song may
be heard all day and well into the night.

It is perfectly surprising to see with what frequency
and regularity the young of these insect-eating birds are
supplied with food by their parents. No sooner has the
mother-bird distributed a fat grub or luscious, juicy cater-
pillar to each of her four or five young ones than she is
back again with a fresh supply. in what always seems to
me an incredibly short space of time. Their prying eyes
and nimble actions search out so thoroughly every leaf and
stem that it seems wonderful that any insects at all escape.
What their numbers would be without this check upon
their increase is impossible to estimate.

On one or two occasions the curious reeling note of
the Grasshopper-warbler has been noticed in spring, probably

from birds freshly arrived and simply passing through, for

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 91

on a second visit to the spot on the next day nothing
further has been seen or heard of them. I have heard of
one nest, however. being found, which, I am glad to say,
was left unmolested.

The Hedge-sparrow is, of course, abundant. Its beautiful

nest and eggs are among the first to be found in early

Nest or SwaLtow (Hirundo rustica),

spring. This bird is a frequent, if unwilling, host for the
Cuckoo's eggs. For two years I have attempted, by un-
covering all the Hedge-sparrows’ nests I could find, to induce
a Cuckoo to lay, but so far without success. These birds
perhaps prefer to find nests for themselves.

Five species of Titmice are represented on my _ list—

OQ Pictures of Bird Life

the Great Tit, the Blue Tit, the Coal-tit, the Marsh-tit, and
the Long-tailed Tit.

The first four [ have frequently seen in my small
garden in the autumn. They are all very fond of sun-
Hower seeds, and are very quick to find out where they are
erown. I have often been interested in watching them fly

straight to my

sunflowers, one
after the other,
to feast on
the ripe
seeds.
C ling-
in g
in yc,

HouseE-

MARTIN

(Hirundo
urbica)

AND Nest.

the droop-
ing flower-
heads, they
extract a seed
with infinite quick-
ness and dexterity.

As a rule they will

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 93

fly off with each one, and return presently for another ; but
sometimes I have seen them eat one on the fence. Grasping
the seed with one foot, they hammer it with the beak two
or three times very quickly, and soon get at the nutty
kernel. In the winter we fasten bacon-rind to a tree for
their benefit. They soon find out and visit regularly any
titbit put out for them, such as fat, cocoa-nut, a bone, or
a lump of suet.

Both Great Tits and Blue Tits are well known to be
fond of curious nesting-sites ; many of the lamp-posts around
are regularly used by. them, and I have seen pumps and gate-
posts also used. On one occasion I was just in time to
rescue a pair of Marsh-tits which had been caught by two
boys from their nest in a_ hollow gate-post. They were
going to kill them, till I persuaded them to release them,
for the sake of their family, plainly audible but out of
reach, in the centre of the post.

The Blue Tit in the photograph had a nest of young
in the hollow elder-stump, but popped in so quickly that it
was impossible to photograph it. The hole was accordingly
stopped up with brown paper. ‘This gave me a chance, as
the bird pondered as to the best means of getting in to its
hungry brood, which were clamouring for food.

The Long-tailed Tit varies in many particulars from the
rest of the family. Instead of a loosely constructed heap
of feathers and moss in a hole, it builds for itself a beautiful
domed nest in the almost bare hedges of early April. How

the numerous long-tailed family, numbering from six to

Q4. Pictures of Bird Life

eight, can live in such a small abode is a mystery I have
never been able to solve. After the brood are fledged,
instead of being sent off to do for themselves as best they
may, the whole family of young and old keep together
throughout the autumn and winter months. Often in

company with numbers of other ‘Tits and Goldcrests, the

Nest oF GREENFINCH (Fvingilla chlorts).

merry party flits along from tree to tree and from bush
to bush, always busy, and incessantly uttering their shrill
call-note to tell their companions of the whereabouts of
each member.

This bird suffers much from boys. The nest in a leaf-

less hedge is very conspicuous, and the first boy who

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 95

passes pulls it out as a matter of course. But the birds.
in spite of this treatment. stick to the same hedge and
make another close to the same _ place, which generally
suffers a similar fate. I knew this spring one pair of
Long-tailed Tits which built four nests before they were
able to rear a brood in safety. They did succeed at last,
for after my return from Denmark I saw the whole family
party. They built in the same hedge year after year, and
I always know where to find two nests every season, one
at each end of the farm I mostly frequent.

This year I found a half-finished nest. which shows the
method of construction. It exactly resembled a Chaffinch’s
nest, but one of the Long-tails entered it while I was in
the act of focussing with the lens not more than a_ foot
away. It was pulled out the next day before it was
finished, being the third of those just mentioned as made
by the same pair of birds.

The Nuthatch is common enough, and may be often
heard by those who know its liquid note. Its whole life
being spent among the lofty branches and rugged trunks
of large trees, it is not a bird which is often seen. Its
climbing powers are wonderful, even rivalling those of the
Woodpeckers, and excelling them in one particular. Al-
though unprovided with the stiff tail or the climbing foot
of these birds, it can run down a_ perpendicular trunk,
whereas they, with the assistance of the fulcrum of their
tail feathers, can only run up. As is well known, they

have the curious habit of filling up the aperture of the

96 Pictures of Bird Life

hole in which they nest with clay and mud, so as to reduce
the size of the opening.

The Wren, though not much bigger than the Golderest,
and like it of short and feeble flight, is also in the habit
of migrating, though more irregularly. Both on the west
and east coasts of Scotland and the east coast of England
it has been recorded in the returns furnished by the lighthouse-
keepers as arriving generally in small numbers. Once,
however, mention was made of ‘ great numbers seen in the
Isle of May.”

Its nest is well known, but is none the less a wonderful
construction for such a tiny being. It is very much
addicted to building a number of nests which are never

used. The materials of these nests are cleverly adapted

to their surroundings. If among ivy or green leaves,
they are cosily made of green moss. A very favourite

situation is in the side of a haystack, and then the
material used is invariably hay: while, should it be in
dead ivy or dried plants, it is made of dead and withered
leaves.

A well-known frequenter of the farmyard, as well as the
stream-side and meadow, is the Pied Wagtail. This bird,
though only clad in sober black and white, is exceptionally
dainty and elegant in appearance and ways. It trips along
so lightly, constantly flirting its tail-feathers up and down;
then running a few paces, it stops suddenly and darts off in
another direction or flies to some stone or post. The flight

is very undulating, and the note, constantly uttered on the

‘ISIN ANV (S99)09 vyISu147) HONIAAVHD NAY

steed

” s

98 Pictures of Bird Life

wing, sounds exactly
like “Chis - wick,

chis-wick.” On the

sewage-farm it is ex-
ceedingly — numerous
all the year round.

The beautiful Yel-
low Wagtail is found
in some numbers in
the same place.

A nest photo-

graphed two or three

Cock Cuarrincy (fyingilla calebs). years agO Was in a
ditch-side, and con-
tained six eggs, very like Sedge-warbler’s in appearance.
The birds were very shy, and it took me two days to
photograph the hen on her nest, and I had almost given
up the idea of getting them off the nest, when at last I
noticed that before flying across the ditch they always
settled on a tall dock just opposite. This gave me a chance
of obtaining some good positions, in spite of a very strong
wind which was blowing at the time.

In the same locality are also immense numbers of Meadow-
pipits, which feed all the year round about the little pools
on the numerous insects so abundant in such places. Here
you can see them to advantage when they are busily
engaged feeding or chasing one another, which they are

so fond of doing.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 99

The Tree-pipit is more frequently found in the fields,

and seems to be particularly addicted to railway embankments,

where its nest
may frequently
be found.
Unlike the
Meadow -pipit.
which is resi-
dent, the Tree-
pipit migrates

before the ap-

proac ny. of

winter.

The Red-
backed Shrike
is a common
species all
round the
north of Lon-
don. On the
topmost twigs
of the tall
hedge in which
the nest is

placed it sits

Nest or Haweincu (Coccothrausles vulgaris).

on the watch for insect prey; for though it will kill small

birds and mice, by far the greater part of its food is com-

posed of beetles

other insects. The castings show

100 Pictures of Bird Life

abundance of beetle wing-cases. These are generally caught
by the bird pouncing down on them on the ground. During
haymaking operations it is keenly observant of insects dis-
turbed by the machines, swooping down on whatever it
may see and carrying it to the young, which are fed long
after they have left the nest. All the Shrikes have a
curious and characteristic habit of moving the tail round
and round in a circular fashion, quite unlike the usual up-
and-down motion in vogue with most birds.

Kvery garden of any size round London contains a pair
or more of Spotted Flycatchers. These, from the vantage-
point of croquet-hoop, dahlia-stick, or tennis-net, spend the
whole long summer’s day in catching flies. Here they sit
on the watch, repeatedly flying off to catch passing insects
with an audible snap of the beak, returning generally to the
same place to wait: for another. The Spotted Flycatcher
is one of the latest to arrive of the summer migrants, and
one of the most silent. It appears to have no song, but
often utters its short, shrill note.

Three species of Hirundines are found, but the Sand-
martin only in small numbers. For some time the nearest
colony of these birds I could find was at Broxbourne, but
in a gravel-pit near the London Road there are a few burrows
which the men working there declare to have been used this
summer. Numbers can be seen at the end of summer passing
along southwards and hawking over the New River, and the
pools at the sewage-farm are frequented by immense numbers

just before their final departure.

GoLprincu (Carduelis elegans) AND NEST,

102 Pictures of Bird Life

The Swallows nest in every cowshed and barn around,
and also under all the New River bridges, where they are
particularly safe from molestation.

In Spain the Swallows nest freely in the rafters of the
rooms, instead of outside and in the chimneys, as with us.
Kntering one day an Andalusian ‘ posada,” or wayside inn,
several Swallows were quietly sitting on their nests just over
the head of the brown and sun-dried host. I photographed
one perching on a nail projecting from the whitewashed
wall of the * patio” of the British Consul’s house at Bonanza,
the small port at the mouth of the Guadalquivir.

In this country it is the Martins which chiefly frequent
human habitations, but always outside under the eaves. Here
they build up, pellet by peilet, a curious, oven-like abode

of mud, and line it profusely with feathers and a few straws.

Hex ReEep-BunTING (Emiberiza schaenicius) FEEDING YOUNG.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 103

The nest is chiefly built in the early part of the day, and
then left to dry before the work is resumed the following
morning. The birds may be seen collecting mud from
puddles in the road and in farmyards and ponds, and I
have even watched them picking it up from the metals of
a tram-line after rain. A pretty sight it is to see a House-
martin chasing a big white feather as it is carried hither
and thither by the gusts of wind, and finally carrying it off
to line its newly finished nest.

Both Swallows and Martins, though not accounted
songsters, have a remarkably sweet but short song, uttered
both on the wing and while perched on a roof or bare
branch of a tree, as they so often do on first arrival. After
the young have left the nest, they are often to be seen
perching in small companies on a leafless branch; young
Swallows may readily be distinguished from the adults by
the absence of the two long pin-feathers in the tail.

The whole question of bird migration is a curious one ;
and while we know more about it than in the days of Gilbert
White, there are many points which have yet to be cleared
up. One of the most curious facts about it is the departure
of the young Swallows and other birds before that of their
parents.

Mr. Dixon writes in one of his books, ** The Migration
of Birds” (pp. 178-9): “The young birds are the greatest
blunderers—the birds which have practically no knowledge
whatever of the road; and have to depend entirely on the

guidance of older birds. That this is the case is abundantly

104. Pictures of Bird Life

proved by the fact that nearly all the birds that accidentally
wander to the British Islands, from more or less remote
countries, are birds of the year.”

This would seem at first sight to account for the frequent
arrivals, on the east coast especially, of birds which do not
visit us habitually, occasionally even of those which have
never before been met with in any part of Europe.

For instance, the Asiatic species Lusciniola schwarz (Radde’s
Bush-warbler), a young bird, was recorded in Knowledge as
shot in Lincolnshire on February Ist, 1899. There is no
other record of this bird in Europe.

A specimen of the Siberian Meadow-bunting (J@mberiza
cioides) was shot at Flamborough in November, 1896, and has
also never been obtained in any part of Europe before, not
even in Heligoland.

It would be interesting, if such a thing were possible, to
find out what cause led these wanderers from the north of
Asia to visit this country. For the true home of the latter
species seems to be in * Turkestan, Siberia, Mongolia, Man-
churia, and Korea, and over a great part of China” (Saunders).

Three specimens of the Desert-wheatear (Savicola deserti),
a native of North African deserts, have been obtained in
England. One of these is described as a young bird (Saunders).
But if other competent observers are correct, Dixon is wrong,
both in his facts and in his deductions from them. For the
late Herr Gatke, who studied the migratory movements of
birds for fifty years at Heligoland, that wonderful natural

observatory of bird life, altogether denies that the majority

n
v4
Qa
Zz
<
a
SS
3
8
~
S

Emberiza

NTI

REED-BU

106 Pictures of Bird Life

of ‘accidental ” visitors are imma-
ture; in fact, from a list furnished
by him to Mr. Cordeaux, an over-
whelming majority were adults, and
in a letter to the Zoologist, May,
1893, he writes: *‘ Ornithologists
ought to give up the worn-out myth
of inexperienced young birds de-
pendent on the teaching and guidance

of their experienced parents ; for the

moment the young are tolerably well STARLING (3/177 g= ae
able to take care of themselves parents and young separate,
and become total strangers to each other. The first perfect
plumage of the latter being completed, in a few weeks they
start of their own accord, and entirely by themselves, on
their first
migratory
excursion ;
whilst
many of
the parent
birds de-
vote them-

selves to

a second
brood, orat

all events

STARLING visITING Nest 1N OLD WooppeckKer’s HOLe. have to go

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 107

through the tedious process of change by moult of their entire
plumage, being thus detained for one or two months from
following their offspring into winter quarters. This holds
good for nearly all regular passengers in Heligoland, the sole
exception being the Cuckoo, which, leaving the care of
hatching its egg and rearing its young to kind-hearted foster-
parents, is free to go south whenever it pleases. The most
striking instance of young birds preceding their parents by a
month or two is furnished by Starlings (Sturnus vulgaris) ;
young grey birds appearing here by hundreds and thousands at
the latter end of June, without in any case being accompanied
by a single old one, the autumnal movement of the latter
commencing about the end of September, lasting through
October, and occasionally till late in November.”

These are the opinions of an ornithologist who has had
far more opportunity for the observation of the mysteries
of bird migration than any other naturalist. For fifty years
he systematically noted every arrival to the island of Heligo-
land, where there are actually no resident birds to cause
confusion, and which has a list of feathered visitors greater
than the whole list of the birds of the British Islands.
Nearly the whole population of Heligoland has been trained
by him to observe and catch the feathered visitors to this
island rock on their passage, and every important capture
has passed through his hands, and a record has been kept
of its age, plumage, sex, date, and the prevailing wind and
weather. The late Mr. Seebohn disputed the accuracy of

Herr Gatke’s list, alleging the difficulty of distinguishing

108 Pictures of Bird Life

the minute differences between the plumage of many birds
(especially ‘Turdinew) in their first spring dress and adults.
But the fact that young birds do migrate half across the
surface of the globe without any assistance from their
parents is sufficiently astonishing, and the wonder is, not
that one or two go astray, but that so many thousands
succeed in finding their way alone and with no previous
experience to guide them.

It is known also that birds which are bound to the extreme
northern latitudes, instead of starting early on account of the
longer distance, actually start some months later. They know
in some mysterious way that if they arrive at their destination
too soon they will find the country thickly covered with
snow and the rivers still ice-bound.

Chapman notes that in Spain ‘there is a distinct arrival
of Swallows in February (early in March many already have
egos), yet the ‘through transit’ of vast bodies—destined
perhaps to populate Lapland and Siberia—is conspicuous
throughout April and even into May.”

Wherever trees are found, there the Tree-creeper may be
seen, creeping spirally up the trunks and branches. When
stationary, the sharpest eye would with difficulty detect it
at all, and when moving upwards in jerks it might be taken
for a mouse. The back is mottled with different shades of
brown, making it almost invisible against the weather-stained
branches. Watching its progress, it suddenly disappears round
the farther side, and after an interval its silvery breast and

long curved beak come into view again higher up. With its

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 109

stiff tail-feathers it supports its weight while it searches the
interstices of the rough bark for small msects. The nest
may be found squeezed between the trunk and the bark where
it has become loose, as it often is in old willow-trees. From

the nature of the situation it is most curiously compressed,

Nest oF STArRLinG (Sturnus vulgaris).

even for such minute and slender forms as the Tree-creepers
and their young family.

The Greenfinch is a really handsome bird, though so
common and little esteemed. It is a hardy and ornamental
bird for the aviary (it is too big and clumsy to show to
advantage in a cage), but the worst of him is his dreadfully
monotonous voice. The long-drawn and constantly repeated

“Che-e-ep” in early spring is the most aggravating bird-

110 Pictures of Bird Life

note I know of, the only one amongst British birds I really
dislike. When nesting has fairly begun, however, the birds
are very silent, and the nest in consequence escapes notice,
though gardens
and shrubberies
are very favour-
ite places stor
them to choose.
The nests are
well and = com-
fortably made,
and have a
charm of their
own, without
ha Val nee aie
special beauty of
the Chaffinch’s
nest.

For the home
of the Chaftinch
is distinctly the
work of an artist.

Without in any

way losing any

Nest oF Jackpaw (Corvus monedula) CUT OUT.

useful quality —
for in warmth, comfort, and durability it is second to
none—in decorative effect and tasteful situation and appear-

ance it is entitled to rank among the highest efforts of

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 111

bird architecture. Whether placed in the gnarled and rugged
branches of the elder, or hidden among the delicate white
spangles of “may ” or blackthorn, it is always worth stopping
to admire; still more so if the mother-bird remains on her
eggs, looking at you with quiet and fearless eyes, as she will
do if you move discreetly. The picture then is perfect in
every way. Do not spoil it by disturbing her and robbing
her of her treasures.

The northern suburbs of London and the adjacent country
is the chosen home of the Hawfinch. In the numerous
orchards and market-gardens in this neighbourhood it is
a fairly abundant species. Unfortunately their fondness for
green peas leads them into trouble, and makes them very
unpopular with gardeners. In spite of the numbers which
suffer from their misdeeds in this direction, it is one of the
few birds which appear to be increasing in numbers and
spreading into localities where it has been previously looked
upon as a rarity.

I have seen numbers of the nests both in the apple-
and pear-trees of orchards and in hawthorns in parks and
fields. The birds are very silent and unobtrusive, but are
sometimes seen while lying in wait for other birds. The
enormous beak is their chief characteristic, and one by which
they may be readily known. Another feature, which is only
seen when in the hand, is the curious notching of the primary
feathers.

The Goldfinch is too much in demand among bird-catchers

ever to be a common bird near London or any other large

112 Pictures of Bird Life

town. Still, a good many may be seen at times if one
knows where to look for them. In one field, chiefly remark-
able for its fine crop of thistles, and where the bird-catcher
is not a persona grata, large flocks of young Goldfinches and
Linnets may be seen during autumn. And there are not
many sights in Nature prettier than a small flock of these
elegant birds clinging to the bending thistles with expanded
wings, and flying from one to another. If the time is winter,
and there is a covering of snow on the ground, the beauty
of the sight is still further increased. When one patch of
thistles is exhausted, they fly off to another with a joyous
twitter, leaving the downy seed-feathers floating in the air
and strewn on the surface of the snow.

The only nest I have seen was about ten feet up
the trunk of a small oak in a wood, placed between the
trunk and the small leafy twigs growing out of it. In such
a place they are much safer than when nesting in hedges
and orchard trees. I have some reason for thinking that
they nest more often than is thought at considerable heights
in large trees.

The House-sparrow is, as a matter of course, abundant—
extremely abundant: where is it not’ In towns its presence
may be tolerated, and even welcomed, but there is no doubt
that in the country it does much damage. While the corn
is yet green in the ear, and after it is ripe, Sparrows in
flocks may be seen on their way to feast on the precious
grain. Clinging to the bending ears, they strip them speedily,

and break down as much as they devour. They also let the

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 113

damp and rain into the thatched roofs of stacks and
cottages by pulling out the straws. Wherever food is to
be found Sparrows are certain to be there, eager for
their share.

Is there a good rise of May-fly on the trout stream ?

Nest oF CARRION-crow (Corvus corone),.

In competition with the Swifts and Swallows, which gyrate

on untiring wings, and sweep so gracefully to meet the

gauzy flutterers above the water they have so_ recently

left, are numerous Sparrows ; despite their thick-set clumsy

bodies and short wings, they too attempt the difficult

feat, and even try awkwardly to_ pick them from the
8

114 Pictures of Bird Life

surface. In spite of many failures they do succeed by
perseverance in obtaining a share, and pick those up which
are drowned and washed against the grassy banks.

Drop a crust of bread, or spill the contents of a nose-
bag in the street! Before a minute has passed a group
of watchful Sparrows are squabbling excitedly over the find,
and chasing the first comers in the hope of their dropping
abit. Talk about the struggle for existence! Kach mouthful
a Sparrow eats seems to be obtained by the exercise of
unrivalled energy and watchfulness. No wonder they thrive
and increase and multiply! There is one period of their

existence, however, during which they do some _ good.

Nest oF Rook (Corvus frugilegus).

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 115

While rearing their young—and they have at least two,
if not four, broods every year—they feed them on grubs
and insects. It is only fair that this should be put to
their credit, for it is apt to be overlooked.

One of their worst habits is that of ousting the House-
martins from their nests, and appropriating them to their
own use. The theft is invariably betrayed by the untidy
ends of straws and rubbish left sticking out of the entrance-
hole in straggling disorder.

I have often watched a Sparrow sitting on a roof,
intently observing a pair of Martins building up their mud
nest under the eaves. With the greatest interest it watches
all their proceedings, chirping impudently now and_ then,
as if to hurry up the patient builders. Presently the nest
is finished, and the lining nearly in, and the Martins go
off for one more feather. On coming back, they find the
Sparrow has taken possession of the home they have made
for their own use with so much skill and labour.

As for the ancient fable of the Martins building up
the robbers by blocking up the hole with mud and leaving
them to die of starvation, I simply cannot believe it. What
would the Sparrows be doing while the building up was in
progress and afterwards, if it was ever completed? With
their strong beaks they could, with the greatest ease,
demolish the mud as fast as it was brought, and_ break
up the whole nest from inside. The nests are so fragile
that a clumsy finger roughly inserted is enough to bring
the whole structure to the ground. No; the story is of

116 Pictures of Bird Life

a class with many others very popular a few years ago,
which get repeated over and over again as gospel
* Anecdotes of Natural History,” which should be taken,
most of them, cum grano salis.

The ‘Tree-sparrow is common, building a much neater
nest in holes in apple-, willow-, and other trees. Its smaller,
rounder, and browner eggs may be easily distinguished from
those of the commoner species. The bird itself is some-
what of a handsome one.

Patches of furze-grown common-land around are not of
great extent or very numerous. Wherever they exist there
are plenty of Linnets: but these birds are not found in any
abundance away from their favourite haunts, though they
do nest sometimes in the hedges. In the autumn they
flock to the thistles in company with Goldfinches.

The Lesser Redpole, with the Bramblefinch, is only known
as a winter visitor, when flocks of these sprightly, active,
restless little birds wander southwards.

The Bullfinch is abundantly found, though it is more
in evidence in the autumn and winter. In the nesting
season it keeps very quiet, and chooses the thickest hedges
and the most retired places in the woods, and shuns notice
as much as possible. In walking along the bare hedges in
winter, great numbers of their nests may be seen, which
have escaped observation during the leafy months of summer.

The Corn-bunting is scarce, the reason probably being,
as Saunders remarks in his ‘* Manual of British Birds,”

that ‘it is principally to be found where grain of some

118 Pictures of Bird Life

kind is grown, and where arable land is turned into grazing
ground the Corn-bunting is scarce or even disappears.”

The Yellow-hammer, or Yellow Bunting, is common
enough at all seasons. Its somewhat monotonous song,
which is supposed to sound like “ A little bit of bread

and no cheese,” is very familiar, for it is somewhat of a

Nest oF SKYLARK (A/auda arvensis).

roadside bird, where it may frequently be seen on the top
of some small tree or bush. The dusty herbage of the
roadside bank is quite as often chosen as a site for its
nest as the greener and fresher field bank. It is, too,
nearly as fond of furze as the Linnet.

The Reed - bunting (or Reed - sparrow) is given to

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 119

marshes and damp situations, though it is by no means
restricted to reeds. In one small osier-bed (since drained)
I always found one pair of birds nesting. ‘The birds, I
have thought sometimes, try to delude you as to the true
position of their nest by great pretended anxiety when you
are searching in quite the wrong direction. This may be
only fancy on my part; but be that as it may, the nest
is by no means an easy one to find.

The cock is one of our handsomest native _ birds.
Though its colours cannot compete with the brilliance of
the Kingfisher, yet it makes in its way quite as effective
a picture. In its favourite and characteristic attitude, clinging
to an upright stalk of reed or rush, its strongly contrasted
plumage shows up so well against the riverside background,
whether of green reeds rustling crisply in the summer's
breeze. which rocks the bird backwards and forwards, or
against the sere and yellow tints of autumn, or the cold
glare of freshly fallen snow. For it is a_ resident, and
does not fly from us at the approach of winter to warmer
climes. The hen is not so boldly marked, and, as she
creeps cautiously through the tangled undergrowth to feed
her young, is not nearly so conspicuous.

The Starling is a typical suburban bird, where it is
nearly as great a hanger-on to mankind as the common
Sparrow. It finds by experience that houses and buildings
are provided with all sorts of holes and corners, in chimneys,
under tiles, and in gutter-pipes, which make very convenient

places for nests. Here they are really quite as safe, if not

120 Pictures of Bird Life

safer, than in the fields, where large numbers of them
nest in holes in trees. The Starling has a bad habit of
taking possession of the holes which the Woodpeckers have
industriously hewn out for themselves in trees, and have
also been known to oust the Swifts from their nesting-
holes in buildings (Zoologist, June, 1899). In either case the
theft is betrayed by the straws sticking untidily out of
the entrance, which tell the tale to every passer-by. The
young Starlings, too, in the nest have a peculiarly strong
and pungent odour, which may be readily detected from
a short distance by anybody familiar with the birds. On
several occasions this smell, so well known, has called my
attention to the nest in places which I should have passed
unnoticed. ‘The young in first plumage congregate together
in small flocks, and as the summer advances these flocks
join forces, till in autumn their numbers are prodigious.
In the Norfolk reed-beds the damage done by their
roosting in the reeds and breaking them down by their
combined weight necessitates the regular employment of
men to scare them off at the approach of evening.

This first plumage is unspotted, and the young birds used
to be descrived and known as * Solitary Thrushes.” Why
Solitary it is difficult to imagine ; it is the most inappropriate
title that could possibly be given them. The Starling is not
liked by fruit-growers, as it is undoubtedly fond of cherries :
but against this must be set the immense amount of good
it does all the remainder of the year in clearing the land

of noxious insects. The grubs of the Cockchafer and Crane-

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish et

fly, or Daddy-long-legs, which do so much mischief in
devouring the roots of grasses, are the favourite food.
Watch a dozen Starlings running over the grass, their
lustrous plumage shining in the sun, and see how busy
they are in searching for these pests.

Once, while waiting at a Starling’s nest in an apple-

tree, a Wryneck settled on the edge of the hole and

YouNG SKYLARK (A/lauda arvensis),

looked in, evidently house-hunting. Before I could press
the shutter the Starling, which happened to be inside,
hustled her away in a great hurry, and thus lost me a
chance I shall probably not get again.

The harsh scream of the Jay may be heard, and occa-
sionally a glimpse of this fine bird may be seen; but I have

not yet found a nest. It is very common in the forest, and

122 Pictures of Bird Life

NicHTjAR (Caprimulgus europaus) oN Upper BrancH OF OAK-TREE.

in the autumn numbers of Jays spread into the surrounding
country, and fill the places of those shot and trapped by
keepers. The Jay, no doubt, is very fond of eggs; but
I fancy that the Blackbirds and Thrushes suffer more from
their depredations than any of the game birds. Keepers,
however, invariably destroy all they can. The Magpie also
suffers for similar misdeeds, and is in consequence generally
a scarce bird where game is preserved. I have seen them
sometimes even close to the town, and heard of their nesting
in an orchard. But nowhere in England is the Magpie
the abundant and familiar species it is in Ireland, Sweden,
France, or Spain, where sometimes it seems to be the most
common bird, and also the tamest.

Jackdaws are, in my opinion, more mischievous than
the Jay or Magpie. I have caught them in the act of
devouring young Thrushes piecemeal, and eggs of all ground-

breeding birds are regular objects of food. Lapwings, when

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 123

nesting, know perfectly well what the Jackdaws are after,
and if they see one quartering a field containing their nests
they will drive it off. Water-hens also will mob any
prowling Jackdaw, and attempt to drive it away from the
neighbourhood of their nest. Last year every Lark’s nest
known on one farm was destroyed by Rooks, Crows, and
Jackdaws.

Jackdaws are generally strictly ecclesiastical birds; but
Enfield has some dissenters, for the Jackdaws here have
made a gallant attempt to fill up the spire of the
Wesleyan chapel by dropping sticks through the round
holes near the top. When I saw the accumulation, there
must haye been a couple of cartloads, for the base of the
spire, ten feet each way, was filled up to the height of
between four and five feet. I believe it had been cleared
out once before. There were no eggs, only a few dead
Sparrows. I suppose, by the time they have filled up
the interior level with the holes, they will think about
laying.

The Carrion-crow is another marauding species, and one
which is decidedly on the increase round London, where
game-preserving is not very strictly carried out. I have
to-day (March 12th, 1900) been up to a typical nest in a
big hedgerow oak, which is to all appearance ready for eggs.
(Two eggs were eventually found in this nest, and at that
time there were two Crows’ nests in the same tree, belong-
ing to two pairs of birds which I have seen in the tree

at the same time—a most unusual event.)

124. Pictures of Bird Life

Many Water-hens’) and Wild Ducks’ nests have been
robbed by the Crows before I could get up to photograph
them. ‘The Crows’ nest is, in fact, like one of the castles
of old, commanding from a height a rich lowland district,
the Crows themselves being worthy representatives of the
robber barons. Like them, they live by harrying periodically
their weaker neighbours. From them nothing 1s_ safe.
‘ges and young birds are a regular article of diet; young
rabbits, partridges, pheasants, and hares are all carried off;
toll is taken of all the chickens and young ducklings within
reach ; and, failing these, carrion and insects of various sorts
are devoured.

The Hooded Crow I do not remember seeing so far
south.

The Rook, of course, abounds in all suburban districts,
though unfortunately it now seems to be on the verge of
extinction as a nesting species in London itself, the Gray's
Inn rookery being the only one left.

A pleasant thing it is in spring-time to hear the
familiar caws and to see the birds busily at work, repairing
the old nests, damaged by the winds of winter, and making
them ready for another season’s tenancy. Very deep and
cosy are these nests in reality, warmly lined and comfort-
able. though they look so rough from below.

When the bitter east winds are howling through the
leafless branches, and the tapering twigs are bending in the
gale like a ship’s topmasts, this depth is necessary to prevent

their squab young from being thrown out. <As it 1s, some-

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 125

times after a stiff gale many young birds will be found
dead on the ground below.

The Rook is a bird which is gradually deteriorating in
character. For long he has been considered a most respect-
able member of society, a friend to the farmer during the
greater part of the year, whose only fault was a liking for
seed-corn, and a propensity for stealing sticks from his
neighbour's nest when his back was turned, instead of
honestly collecting them for himself. But of late years
there has been a constant growl from game-preservers that
he is acquiring an ever-increasing taste for eggs—not only

for Lapwings eggs and such-like, which would be forgiven

Nest oF NicutTjar (Caprimulgus europeus).

126 Pictures of Bird Life

NiIGHTJAR (Caprimulgus europaus) AND YOUNG ONE.

him, but he must have Partridges’ eggs, and for such a
heinous crime there is no forgiveness.

Now, the worst of it all is that it is too true; and a pity
it is, for he is a great ornament to the fields. He is the
largest common bird we have left, and his presence in the
rookery of ancient elms gives an added dignity to many
an ancestral estate. His familiar figure would be missed,
and his absence would be mourned as a_ personal loss by
many, if sentence of death or banishment were passed upon
him. That Rooks are not averse to animal food even is
shown by an extraordinary account of the systematic hunting
of Field-voles by Rooks in Thuringia Wald. It will be
found in the October number of the Zoologist for 1892.

From a letter in the Zoologist of January, 1900, by

W. Wilson, it would seem that some injustice has been done

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish ey

this bird. An examination of the contents of the stomachs
of dead Rooks by the Highland Agricultural Society appeared
to demonstrate that the birds had lived by eating grain
instead of noxious grubs and insects, and in consequence
many rookeries have been destroyed. Mr. Wilson, however,
goes on to say that “another point of general interest to
ornithologists has been brought out here by Mr. ‘Turnbull,
B.Sc., who has examined dead Rooks where a rookery was
being ‘cleared out,’ and found grubs and wire-worms in the
birds when dissected shortly after they were killed, but
grain only in those examined a day or two after being
destroyed, his contention being that digestion went on after
death, and that this accounted for little but grain being
found in those the subject of the Highland Agricultural
Societys Report. This digestion after death is worthy of
attention, and tends to bring out the views most commonly
held on the food of the Rook. Those forwarded to the
Highland Agricultural Society were driven by rail to Edin-
burgh from Montrose, and time must have elapsed before
they were examined.”

The Raven is no longer to be found, having been for
many a year driven away from most inland localities in
England. Persecution has been too much for it, and it
now betakes itself to the overhanging ledges of the preci-
pitous cliffs round the coast, where it still nests in compara-
tive safety. Enfield, however, can boast of being the last
locality in Middlesex frequented by these fine birds, and

can show the tree still standing on which they used to

128 Pictures of Bird Life

nest. This is one of a group of magnificent elms known as
the * Three Sisters,” close to the New River. In countries
where game preservation is not thought so much of, and
where the population is more scanty, the Raven still nests
in trees. Two nests IT took in the south of Spain in 1897
were placed on the top of tall pine-trees, and contained
five eggs apiece. This was in May: with us nidification
is begun in January, and ege’s are laid while snow is thick
on the ground.

Among our native songsters, the Skylark ranks with
the best, and abounds everywhere, on either pasture or
arable land. A little later than the Thrush to begin, it
even rivals that fine musician in the superb quality of its
song. Rising higher and higher over the fields, it pours
forth its joyous melody with a vigour and zest perfectly
marvellous, until, its highest pitch being reached, it descends
still singing, till. nearing the ground, it folds its wings and
drops back to earth. Occasionally I have both heard and
seen the Lark sing on the ground. Once in particular I
well remember one singing lustily while perched on a clod
of earth within a few yards of where I was hiding. It has
even been known to sing at night (Zo0/ogist, October, 1892).

The nest, like most of those placed on the ground, is
exceedingly difficult to find. Even on almost bare ground
it makes the most of some small inequality, perhaps only
sheltered by one small, low plant, so that it takes a sharp
eye to discover its whereabouts. Hundreds of nests are

destroyed annually by Rooks, Crows, and Jackdaws, which

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 129

either find them accidentally while picking up worms or
grubs, or else they systematically look for them as a regular
article of diet.

The next bird on my list is of an entirely different
character. The Swift practically lives in the air, wheeling
round in immense circles at great heights, and dashing in
erratic and never-tiring flight throughout the hours of day-
light. It never seems to rest, or to alight, except to roost
and to nest, for which purposes it resorts to holes in the
roots of thatched cottages, under tiles, and in holes and
crevices of church towers and large buildings. Its harsh
scream has earned for it in some places the name of * Jacky-
screamer” or “ Deviling.” It is quite one of the latest to

arrive of our summer visitors, and the first one to depart.

YounGc NIGHTJARS.

130 Pictures of Bird Life

They nest in some of the houses in the London Road. One
in particular, whose gable-end faces the street in a narrow
part, seems to accommodate several pairs on the end of the

The eggs are two, some-

beams which support the gable. go

times three in number, and are deposited among a_ few
straws, cemented together by the viscid saliva of the birds.

The country here is not generally favourable to the habits

(Alcedo ispida) siTTING ON WATER-HEN’S NEST,

YounG KINGFISHER

of the Nightjar; but wherever bracken is found at the edges
of some of the woods a few pairs may be found nesting—or
rather laying, for nest-making troubles them not.

The two eggs, curiously resembling round pieces of chalk
or mottled pebbles, are simply deposited on the bare ground.
In such places, amid dead leaves and sticks and loose stones,
they are not easily seen; and the bird herself, while incubating,

is absolutely invisible to the keenest eyes, unless they knew

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 131

beforehand exactly where to look. As she sits, with puffed
out and nearly closed eyelids, she resembles nothing so much
as a short bit of dead lichen-covered stick. | On two occasions
at least I have noticed similar pieces of stick lying close to
the eggs, as though the bird relied on the protective resem-
blance they bore to her mottled, russet-coloured plumage.

The young birds exactly resemble two lumps of dry
earth or mud. Even when in the hand they appear as if
they had been dipped in wet mud, which had dried on
them. So much is this the case that I have felt inclined
before now to dust them, to try to get some of it offi A
young Nightjar in the attitude of being fed has a most
extraordinary appearance, owing to the immense size of its
open mouth.

The flight of the Nightjar is indescribably light and
noiseless, though sometimes it has a curious habit of clapping
its wings behind its back.

Quite one of the prettiest experiences with birds I have
had was to see one fly up, hover over her eggs, and finally
settle down on them, while I was hiding under my concealed
camera not much more than a yard away. I had already
photographed her four times, after carefully crawling up to
her and climbing over a fence with the camera in full view
and yery near to the nest. She eventually hatched her
young ones, and, I believe, brought them off all right.
But from two other nests the birds deserted on my trying
to hide up for them. ‘They return to the same place to nest

year after year—not necessarily to the same spot ; but a patch

132 Pictures of Bird Life

of bracken or bit of open ground in a wood is often tenanted
regularly by Nightjars. I can generally find a nest, whenever
I want one, by knowing where to look.

A Nightjar, when perched on a thick branch, always sits
lengthwise ; when on a thinner branch, however, it adapts itself
to altered circumstances, and then sits across like other birds.
The lengthwise attitude, however, seems to be preferred ; for
I notice that, if the branch be of a medium thickness, it
will sit diagonally across it—that is, as near to the lengthwise
position as possible. The curious churring noise only made
towards evening seems to be akin to the reeling of the
Grasshopper-warbler, a vibratory sort of sound, difficult to
locate. It has a weird sound as the darkness deepens and
the songs of other birds are hushed. It now rises and
falls, sometimes appearing to be close at hand, sometimes
far away. Presently the bird may be seen on the wing,
skimming across the glades of the wood, over which the
branches cast fantastic and grotesque shadows in the light
of the moon. If by chance the bird should settle near at
hand, you will be astonished at the strength and power of
the note, however it may be produced. The same thing
is very apparent with the Cuckoo’s note. I have been
sometimes perfectly astonished at the powerful vibrations
made by a Cuckoo which has settled close to me—one I
remember seemed to shake the tree in which it sat, a very
large oak.

As Howard Saunders remarks, the Nightjar is known in

every country in which it is found by some name equivalent

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 133

to Goatsucker.” This is due to one of those mistaken and
utterly exploded ideas which used to be so common in natural
history, fit only to rank with the metamorphosis of Barnacle-
geese from barnacles, and other ridiculous fables, which have
been gravely described and even illustrated by professed eye-
witnesses.

In the delicate markings and general colour of its plumage
the Wryneck resembles the Nightjar. It is, however, a bird
of very different habits, being arboreal, like the Woodpeckers,
though not provided with the climbing foot of those birds,
or the powerful beak and stiff, pointed tail-feathers. Its

habits are somewhat different. Unable to hew out for itself

Youne Cuckoo (Cuculus canorus) in HEDGE-SPARROW’S NEST.

(Below in an old nest is an egg and dead nestling, presumably ejected by the young Cuckoo)

134. Pictures of Bird Life

YounG Cuckoo FED By HEDGE-SPARROW.

a hole for its nest, it has to fall back upon some natural
hollow in which to deposit its white eggs.

The Green Woodpecker is the largest representative of a
class of birds extraordinarily well fitted in every detail for
the life they are destined to lead. ‘They are, in fact, very
highly specialised, even among birds, which show peculiar
proots of adaptability to all sorts and conditions of life.

There is not a condition in the life of Nature’s beings
that some bird cannot adapt itself to, even to burrowing
holes under the earth, and, more wonderful still, to boring
tunnels in the hard and solid wood of large trees in which
the sitting female can incubate her eggs free from danger
and molestation. In almost every case of birds nesting in
holes two facts are very apparent. One is, that the eggs

are almost invariably white, or white inconspicuously spotted

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 135

with red, the exceptions being the blue eggs of Starling
and Jackdaw: and the other is, that the birds themselves
are generally of brilliant plumage in both sexes. <A_ bird
gs, if brilhantly coloured or conspicuously

marked, is of course much safer out of sight down a hole;

sitting on eg

Younc Cuckoo FED BY HEDGE-SPARROW.

and the fact that all the brilliantly plumaged hen-birds on
the British List nest in covered situations, with a few
exceptions among the ground-building birds, seems to indi-
cate that they are perfectly aware of the fact. The

exceptions to this rule take other steps to the same end.

136 Pictures of Bird Life

Knowing that they are conspicuous, instead of sitting close,
they leave their eggs at th — slightest suspicion of danger,
warned by their mates, which keep watch over them. But
their eggs, which would be in danger if white, like those
of birds nesting in holes, are invariably exceedingly diffi-
cult to see, being in colour and markings so like the
surrounding ground as to be indistinguishable. Birds which
sit closely on an open nest are always so_ protectively
coloured as to be very inconspicuous.

To return to the Woodpeckers. The whole structure of
their bodies in every particular is admirably adapted to their
peculiar way of life. The feet are very powerful; and in
place of the toes in front and one behind, as is usual with
birds which merely grasp their perch, they have two hind
toes and two front ones. This gives the birds a_ better
purchase in grasping the inequalities of the rough bark, and
in supporting themselves in an upright attitude. Additional
support is further provided by the long, stiff, incurved tail-
feathers, which serve as a fulcrum. The beak is like a
natural pickaxe, with which the bird, while grasping firmly
with its strong feet, can give the most tremendous blows,
sufficient not only to dislodge large pieces of bark in searching
after insects, but to dig grubs and caterpillars out of the
solid wood. The nest-hole is constructed by boring a perfectly
circular hole into the tree, which turns at right angles to a
depth of several inches. The hollow is then slightly enlarged,
and the glossy white eggs la:d on the chips at the bottom.

The tongue is perhaps the most extraordinary feature

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 137

in the Woodpecker, being capable of protrusion to the extent
of four inches. The tip is sharply pointed and_ barbed,
and covered with a glutinous secretion. The anatomical

peculiarities of this curious tongue are worth describing.

Younc Barn-owt (S¢tryx flammza) 1x Down.

Instead of the root of the tongue being fixed to the throat,
the tongue itself goes some distance down the throat, and
then divides into two tendinous processes, which rise again
and curve round the head, one on each side, and are firmly

attached to the frontal bone, near the base of the upper

138 Pictures of Bird Life

mandible of the beak. The length of a specimen which
I have had in spirits for twenty years is 8 inches, including
the tendinous processes, the tongue proper being 45 inches.
The length of the whole
bird from beak to tail is
only 12°5 inches.

All three Wood-
peckers are fairly com-
mon round Iondon, the
Lesser Spotted being on
the whole the most
abundant. The curious
drumming noise made
by Woodpeckers in
spring-time may be
often heard, as they sit
on a dead bough and
hammer it with their

beak with inconceivable

rapidity. The effect is

BaRN Ow (Siryx flammea).

a curious drumming,
vibratory noise, which may be heard for a long distance,
and is very difficult to localise. I once followed the sound
for a long way, thinking at every step the bird was in the
next tree, and then the next. At last it flew out quite
fifty yards from where I had thought it to be. It is sup-
posed to be a call-note between the sexes before pairing,

and is only heard in spring-time.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 139

Young Woodpeckers, before leaving the nest for good,
run in and out of their hole and climb the trunk as nimbly
as the old birds.

In spite of the persecution it undergoes, in consequence
of its brilliant plumage, the Kingfisher still holds its own,
and is, I firmly believe, as common as it was thirty years
ago. Hundreds are shot, in spite of the Bird Protection
Acts, and more still are netted in the autumn, when there
seems to be a decided migratory movement among them.
Kingfishers then are frequently met with in places where
at other seasons you never expect to see them. Bird-catchers
catch them when netting the ditches and small streams for
Blackbirds and Thrushes; I have had four brought to me
alive in the course of one week. Some I have bought, and
after keeping them a few days have released them at the
bottom of my garden, along which passes the New River.
One of these birds took Sticklebacks out of a soup-plate
after the first day, but they never live long in captivity.

They nest here regularly in certain places. In the bank of
some small brook the Kingfisher makes a hole, or finds a rat-hole
ready made, at the end of which it enlarges a small cavity.
Here the minute bones of the small fish on which she feeds
are disgorged, and on these she lays her shining white eggs,
almost globular in form. I have occasionally seen the bird
hover like a little Kestrel and plunge into the water after
its food; but its usual tactics are to sit motionless on some
overhanging spray or protruding stump, on the watch for

any small fish or aquatic insect. On these it drops suddenly,

140 Pictures of Bird Life

“CastINGs” OF BARN-OWL.

and generally succeeds in making a capture. It then resumes
its perch, or sometimes another one near at hand, with the
prey —if a fish——crosswise in its beak, and it is only swallowed
after being repeatedly banged violently against its perch.
By watching these lovely birds, it is possible to find out
their favourite perches along a length of stream. To these
they fly regularly, and visit one after the other. At one
such perch, a thin rootlet sticking out from a bank, I watched
at close quarters an adult Kingfisher this year for a long
time. He had in his beak a small fish, apparently from the
shape a very young Jack. Just above the bank was a hole,
from which apparently a brood of young Kingfishers had
recently flown, and I was doubtful if they were nesting
again, either in the same place or elsewhere near at hand.
Momentarily I expected to see it fly into some hole or
other, and watched it closely, hoping thereby to discover
its nest. Finally, however, after waiting a considerable time,
it swallowed the fish itself, head foremost. after first taking it

by the tail-end in its beak and swinging its head round viciously

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 141

against the twig it sat on. Every bone in the fish’s body
must have been smashed by the repeated blows. The
movements of this bird, as of others I have watched, were
very jerky, and its attitude the reverse of graceful.

A regular perch in another stream was a tree-stump lying
across the water, with several projecting arms. In _ the
middle was a Water-hen’s extra nest. This made an excellent
station for a pair of Kingfishers—or perhaps 1 should say
two Kingfishers, young birds of the year, fully fledged and
quite capable of looking after themselves. Repeatedly, during
a day spent in ambush squatting in a small elder-bush,
concealed by twigs and nettles, these two birds returned to
the place, sometimes sitting on the stump, sometimes on
the outer sticks of the Water-hen’s nest. Sometimes one only
could be seen,
but generally
both of them
were In view
at the same
time. Many
plunges were
made after
sticklebacks
Wate se we
watched, and

never once did

they miss their

BONES AND SKULLS FROM ‘‘CasTINGS” OF BARN-OWL.

(The five shrew kulls were from one “‘ casting.’’) prey.

142 Pictures of Bird Life

I once saw a Kingfisher hotly
pursued by a Sparrow-hawk.
Both birds flashed past me at
topmost speed while fly-fishing
in a small Lincolnshire stream.
There was but a small space be-
tween them, and I could mark
the bright yellow eyes of the
Hawk, and the feet among the
breast-feathers ready to strike,

but a thick and high hedge pre-

Tawny Ow. (Syratum aluco). vented me from seeing the end

of the chase. There is no doubt,
however, that, unless the Kingfisher could take shelter under
a bank or drop into the water, it must have been taken.
They are not birds capable of prolonged effort in flight,

though for a short distance they travel very quickly.

One of the most curious habits among birds must’

surely be that which characterises the Cuckoo, of laying
its eggs in the nests of other birds, and thereby ridding
itself of the burden of bringing up its offspring. Other
birds show such devotion to their young—love of off-
spring being so predominant in their natures that life. itself
is freely sacrificed in their defence—that this callousness
on the part of the Cuckoo is very abnormal and yery
difficult to account for.

The South European form, the Greater Spotted Cuckoo,

also. practises the same parasitical custom, but restricts

Se Oe Oa ee

— = =

zk
*

(Falco tinnunculus) ANvd Nest.

KESTREL

144 Pictures of Bird Life

itself almost exclusively to laying in the nest of the
Magpie. The American Cuckoo, however, builds a nest
and rears its own progeny like other birds.

The sound of the well-known and familiar note of our
bird is always eagerly expected, as a welcome harbinger
of spring. It sometimes happens that numbers of Cuckoos
arrive simultaneously, as if they travelled in large flocks,
and that their mocking cry of “Cuckoo” is heard in all
directions, and the birds conspicuously seen in numbers about
the fields and hedgerow trees, where the day before there
was not one to be heard or seen.

The nests particularly favoured by them seem to be
those of the Hedge-sparrow, Meadow-pipit, Pied Wagtail,
and Robin, and I have seen the egg in nests of the Willow-
wren and Redstart. The latter nest was, as usual with
the Redstart, in a very small hole in a cherry-tree, into which
it was perfectly impossible for the Cuckoo herself to have
entered. In such cases it is supposed that the egg is deposited
on the ground and then placed in position by the beak.

Young Cuckoos are gifted with most inordinate and
insatiable appetites, and grow apace. To make room for
their unwieldy bodies, they have a most objectionable habit
of ejecting the other and rightful occupants of the nest. The
illustration on p. 133 shows the details of one such tragedy,
in a more complete way than would be possible. as a rule.
Here, however, the accidental circumstance of a second old
nest immediately below having caught the ejected nestling

and an egg enables me to show a complete record. The

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 145

little monster
above. character-
istically enough,
has its mouth wide
open, screeching
for more food.
The nest was that
of a Hedge-spar-

row, placed in the

very centre of a
variegated _ holly-
bush.

The foster-
parents show the
greatest attention
to the usurper long
after it has left the

nest, and may

sometimes be seen

Heron (Ardea cinerea) AND NEST.

busily feeding it
when it is capable of flight, and is many times bigger than
the two of them put together.

The Barn-owl, though one of a persecuted race, still
holds its own. In 1901 a pair built in the eaves of an un-
occupied house in a side street. Though the united hissings
and snorings attracted attention of a hostile character from some
persons who should have known better, the nocturnal family
were luckily protected by the inhabitants of the neighbouring

146 Pictures of Bird Life

HERON (Ardea cinerea), RicaMOND ParK HERONRY.

house, and with the exception of two, which fell from the
nest, the brood got off safely. The house has since been
unfortunately let, and the hole carefully boarded up by the
new tenant, because of his children, as he told me! I
never myself knew of an Owl eating children, but I sup-
pose he thought he would be on the safe side. On another
occasion I was summoned by a breathless choir-boy one
Sunday evening to come at once to the church, as some
Owls were in the roof. There I found parson, organist,
and choir gazing up at a small hole in the oak panelling
of the chancel roof, at the imminent risk of a crick in the
neck. From this hole it appeared that an Owl had appeared
during the service. Eventually it was agreed, on my sug-

gestion, that as they had taken sanctuary in the church

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 147

they should be allowed to remain unmolested. There,
accordingly, I hope they still abide in safety.
Occasionally, when riding home in the gloaming, I have
seen a ghostly form fly over the fields on silent wing,
and the “ Whoo-whoo” of the Tawny Owl may be often

heard after nightfall. Sometimes I find one resting in the

Nest of Witp Duck (Anas boscas).

cavity of an ancient oak, up whose trunk I have scrambled
inside like a chimney-sweep. Some castings taken from the
hollow were full of the glittering wing-cases of beetles. The
Tawny Owl breeds here regularly in some numbers, but
this particular hole seems to be only used for resting in

during the day, and I have never found more than one

148 Pictures of Bird Life

bird in it. There is no doubt that there would be more
of these two species if it were not for that most iniquitous
of traps the pole-trap.

On a keeper's gallows near here are nailed up_ three

Barn - owls, one Tawny Owl, and two Kestrels, all of

Nest oF Woop-piceon (Columba palumbus).

them victims of a pole-trap erected outside between two
large woods. Now, all of these birds are absolutely harm-
less to game, and of the greatest possible use to the
farmer.

The late Mr. Cordeaux describes the barbarity of the

pole-trap with such vivid eloquence that I should like to

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 149

bring his words before every game-preserver in the kingdom :
“The Owls (Short-eared Owls) have been exterminated
by the keepers with their deadly pole-traps—a cruel form
of bird murder which no humane person would tolerate or
adopt. . . . The useful Barn-owl, too, has been ruthlessly
destroyed whenever opportunities offered in this same cruel
fashion. Noiselessly across the waste in the twilight, like
a flitting phantom, comes the soft - winged Owl, and
seeing, as if placed ready for his use, a post of vantage
from which he may mark each stealthy movement of the
mischievous Field-vole, stays his flight to settle on the
treacherous perch: and then during all the long sad
night—and too often, we fear, through the succeeding
day—with splintered bone protruding through smashed
flesh and torn tendon, hangs suspended in supreme agony,
gibbeted head downwards till death puts an end to his
sufferings. Well may we ask, Can all the game-pre-
serving in the world justify this ignorant and needless
wrong /”

Owls and other raptorial birds eject the indigestible
parts of their prey in the form of pellets, so that it is
perfectly easy to show exactly on what they feed. On
putting the castings of a Barn-owl into warm water, you
find bones of mice with their skulls embedded in the skin.
Out of bushels of these castings taken from hollow trees
inhabited by Owls for many years, not the slightest trace
of the remains of any game bird is to be found. ‘The

few bird-remains will be Sparrows’ skulls. The Long-

150 Pictures of Bird Life

‘ared Owl is the only species which may perhaps be
suspected of occasionally taking young Pheasants, but I
cannot help thinking that its opportunities in this direction
are very few and far between.

The Kestrel, hanging on suspended wings over the
fields mouse-hunting, is not at all an uncommon sight,
and is one which I frequently enjoy. These birds make
no nest for themselves, but make use of an old Wood-
pigeon’s, Crow’s, or Squirrel’s nest. One found two years
ago was on the top of an ash-tree, and the five eggs reposed
on a comfortable bed of broken-up castings of mouse fur
and bones, among which I detected only one bird’s wing,
that of a hen Blackbird. And yet this bird is killed as
vermin by nine keepers out of ten.

Another nest was found immediately outside the town,
in an old Crow’s nest high up in an immense elm. It was
only found the day before the young left it. For four days
a friend and myself lay in wait with cameras pointed at two
young chickens tethered within sight of the nest. On the
first day the hen Kestrel hovered immediately over the un-
conscious chickens; but just as she appeared ready for the
fatal stoop, she detected me crouching behind a big tree and
sheered off. Though we tried different places for the bait
and changed our hiding-places, it was all to no avail. One
whole day we spent on an overhanging branch of a neigh-
bouring tree, well hidden, as we thought, by the surrounding
leaves, helped out by cut-down branches. But though we

were unsuccessful in these attempts to photograph, we were

‘ISAN ANV (SUunMmUM0I ANJAN]) TAOT-ATLUAY,

152 Pictures of Bird Life

able to see a good deal of the birds, watching them through
our glasses, both on trees and on the ground.

Once I saw two of the young birds perched on the
goal-posts of a football ground, one at each end. In the

same field were also a family of young ‘Tawny Owls with

Nest OF PARTRIDGE (Perdtx cinerea).

their parents. One evening the whole five were flying
round us, as my companion, crouching with me behind a
tree-trunk, gave a capital imitation of the note. I am
myself no good at imitating the notes of birds; but he,
by blowing into his clasped and hollowed hands between

the thumbs. can produce the * Whoo-whoo” to perfection.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 153

The first attempt brought them from a distant tree, till
they settled just over our heads, where we could see their
forms by the moonlight against the sky.

The gallant little Sparrow-hawk is not nearly so common
as the Kestrel, and i have not seen a nest nearer than
Epping Forest. Many are brought to me in the autumn
by bird-catchers, which have been caught in the act of
attacking their call-birds. I think the majority of them are
taken in the neighbourhood of Northaw. Occasionaliy the
bird-catchers take Kestrels in the same way. One day I had
a beautiful little cock Kestrel brought to me. ‘To save it
from the fate of being killed and set up in a public-house

bar, which is what its captor purposed to do with it, if I

Hen Pueasant (Phastanus colchicus) on Nest.

154 Pictures of Bird Life

did not buy it, I gave him what he asked, took it to the
door, and released it before his eyes, to his great indignation
and disgust. That was the second I had restored to liberty,
and gladly I watched its flight, and rejoiced at its narrow
escape from the hideous fate in store for it.

Herons, within the memory of at least one inhabitant,

Nest oF PHEeAsant (Phasianus colchicus).

used to nest on the island at Bush Hill Park. Nowadays
the nearest heronries are the well-known ones at Wanstead
Park and Richmond Park. At the former there are at least
sixty pairs of these birds nesting on the island in the lake,
in company with Rooks. At Richmond there are about a

dozen nests on some large oaks in one of the enclosures.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 155

The Heron does not always, however, nest on trees, where,
to tell the truth, he seems somewhat out of place; for in
Holland I have seen it nesting among the reeds, in just the
same sort of a place as that chosen by Purple Herons, except
that. if possible, it was more difficult of access. For, in spite
of every effort, I failed in my attempts to photograph the
nests which contained young birds. The water was very
deep, almost up to my neck, and the bottom exceedingly
soft and treacherous, and the six exposures I made, after
an infinity of exertion and trouble, were all failures.

But though the Heron no longer nests with us, it may
frequently be seen following its vocation as a fisher along
the brooks and ponds, or flying over to some more distant
feeding-place with slow and dignified flaps of its great
rounded wings.

Once, while hidden under a spreading tree waiting for
Weater-hens, a Heron unexpectedly perched on the extreme
summit of a dead tree, exactly opposite my hiding-place.
Creeping forth to clear the branches overhead, I just sue-
ceeded in focussing the bird in a splendid position, when
its keen sight detected my presence. The suddenness with
which it took its departure before I could secure the photo-
graph left the branch on which it had perched in violent
vibration for some time afterwards. On my next visit to
the place the branch was missing, as though the bird had
perched once again and broken it. As the spot was, I
knew, a regular resort for Herons, I paid several early

visits before daybreak, hoping that this particular tree was

156 Pictures of Bird Life

used regularly as a look-out station before descending
to the water, which is very shut in by trees all round.
Never again, however, was I favoured with another chance.

Though the Teal may occasionally be met with in
winter, the Wild Duck is the only representative of the
family which nests. In the summer months it is a common
thing to find its nest, or to see the old duck, followed
two and two by her numerous family. To these she is a
devoted mother. In the event of danger the young ones
scatter, hiding in any cranny or hole, while she flutters,
apparently wounded and helpless, in the heroic attempt to
distract attention from her brood.

The nest is sometimes a considerable distance from
water. I have seen one in the middle of a field, quite
a hundred yards away from the water; another was hidden
under a furze-bush, and contained eleven eggs. These were
safely hatched, and the resulting ducklings afterwards seen
on several occasions with their mother on a small brook
about eighty yards from the nest. Many nests, though
‘arefully and artfully hidden under overhanging brambles
and luxuriant nettles and long grass, have been never-
theless discovered by the Carrion-crows and robbed of
every egg,

The Wood-pigeon flourishes exceedingly in all the woods
around, and nests abundantly not only in the trees, but
less often in the tall hedgerows. It has even within this
last ten years invaded London itself, numbers nesting in

all the parks and in many cf the squares and gardens. In

Gallinula chloropus) Axo Nest,

TER-HEN

War

158 Pictures of Bird Life

these unlikely localities it may often be seen sitting on
its scanty nest, only a few feet above the passing throng,
of whom it takes not the slightest notice. It is very
extraordinary, for one who knows the wary habits of this
bird in more secluded places, to watch it boldly feeding with
tame Pigeons and Sparrows, and rivalling these /abitués of
Cockneydom in audacity. It will come readily within a foot
or two if you throw food to it. The nest does not rank
very high as a specimen of bird architecture. A rude and
open platform of sticks, through which the eggs may be
readily seen from below, suffices for the purpose. I have
found Wood-pigeons very shy at the nest, and, however
rarefully hidden, have not succeeded in photographing the
sitting bird. ‘Two attempts this year failed, and in both
cases the birds deserted their eggs.

One nest was on the top of a tall rose-brier in a small
wood, and the camera was fastened to the branches of an
adjacent oak-tree and well hidden with leaves, while I retired
with a long tube to the shelter of some thick bushes, where
I was perfectly concealed from view. Here I waited nearly
the whole day; and though several times the birds could be
heard in the surrounding trees, sometimes very near to the
nest, yet they never visited it again.

While waiting, the excited clucking of a hen Partridge
attracted my attention, and presently, while lying motionless
full length on the ground, a large brood of young Partridges,
only about a day old, came running up two and two, followed

by their mother, a Red-legged Partridge, in a great state of
S foto} oD oO

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 159

agitation. They never saw me, though the whole family
almost ran over my feet. They had evidently been alarmed
by some haymakers in the next field, just over the hedge.
None of these, either, had the slightest idea of my presence,
though they were working for hours only a few yards away.
In the same clump of bushes behind the Wood-pigeon’s
nest was also a Turtle-dove’s nest and a Bullfinch’s nest,
both with young, while a little farther down was a Goldfinch’s
nest with four eggs, and a Nightjar brooding over two
young ones.

After the departure of the Partridges a friendly Robin
came and inspected me, and accepted an invitation to share
my lunch. Perching on the camera-case, it hopped down
and ate all the crumbs thrown to it, constantly coming back
for more throughout the day. <A Turtle-dove preened its
feathers hard by, while Thrushes and Bullfinches flitted in
and out of the bushes and hopped all round me. Besides
all these, a family party of little brown Wrens busily searched
the bushes immediately in front of my face, till I expected
them to perch on my head and search my _ pockets for
food. One of them was certainly within six inches of my
nose, and a Thrush came almost as near. The Wrens
simply ignored me altogether, treating me as a piece of a
tree or an inanimate log.

But though the Wood-pigeon is shy, the Turtle-dove
is still more so, and is the only bird I have known to desert
her nest, and abandon her helpless young ones to die miserably

of starvation, because I have hidden myself near in order

160 Pictures of Bird Life

LapwinG (Vanellus cristatus),

to photograph them. ‘Turtle-doves are very abundant, and
after the spring arrival their deep ‘*'Tur-tur” may be heard
in every direction. They nest in all the tall old-fashioned
hedges so common about here. The nest is even slighter
and ruder, and of course much smaller, than the Wood-
pigeon’s. But this very rudeness of construction only serves
to enhance the beauty of the two pearly white eggs reposing
side by side on the network of brown sticks. It is a nest
which has a great charm about it, somehow.

The Stock-dove is the most uncommon representative
of the family, but may be seen here and there. Unlike the
others, it nests in hollow trees.

The Partridge is fairly plentiful for so near to London.
In some roadside fields it may be heard or seen almost at

any time. It seems, in fact, like the Lapwing, to have a

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 161

strong predilection for certain favoured localities, though per-
haps not to the extent that those birds undoubtedly have.
Some peculiarity of food procurable is probably the secret of
it, and in connection with this I have been told that Dutch
clover has a great attraction for Partridges, and that fields

containing any are always sure finds for them.

Nest or Lapwine (Vanellus cristatus).

A hen Partridge, while sitting, is a good example of pro-
tective coloration. It is almost impossible to distinguish
her crouching form amidst the thick growth of grass and
hedgeside vegetation. She seems to burrow into the very
heart of a clump of grass or dead bracken, without leaving
a trace or mark of her presence. If approached quietly, she

162 Pictures of Bird Life

LapwineG (Vanellus cristatus) SITTING.

will only crouch closer and remain motionless, though keenly
observant all the while of every movement on your part.

The quiet heroism shown by birds while incubating or
brooding over their young is very touching. The slightest
noise or rustle may mean some cruel and ruthless enemy ;
yet they never move, though it is so easy for them to
spring up and fly away. But unless you blunder on to
them with sudden noise and crash of broken branches, they
will remain sooner than betray the whereabouts of their
nest,

The hen Pheasant is another example of the protectively
coloured and close-sitting bird. One was almost trodden on
before I saw the markings on her russet plumage hidden
among the dried grasses under my feet. After photograph-
ing her from four different positions, she only left her eggs
eventually on my attempting to pull up by the roots some
of the grass which hid her from view; and even then, -
instead of flying off, she ran towards me with all her feathers

fluffed out, hissing like an angry goose. ‘The Pheasant will

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 163

sometimes cover her eggs over on leaving them, as if she
knew that they would be readily seen by their numerous
enemies without some concealment.

All these gallinaceous birds show great pugnacity in the
pairing season. On the Continent, where ideas of sport
differ from ours, advantage is taken of this in shooting them
to a decoy-bird.

The Corn-crake, though numerous in the Lea Valley, does
not commonly occur elsewhere, and I do not often hear
it, except in the marshes. A pair frequented a meadow
at Winchmore Hill in 1901, but no nest was found.
Nor have I myself seen the Water-rail.

The Coot frequents a pond in the neighbourhood, and
nests there sometimes, but irregularly. In 1901 a thorough

search was made by wading all over the pond among the

YounG Lapwine (Vanellus cristatus) CROUCHING.

164 Pictures of Bird Life

reeds, but no trace of the birds could be seen, nor any
nests but Water-hens’ nests found.

The Water-hen—a name which always seems to be so
much more appropriate than Moor-hen—is a universally
common suburban species. It is even found abundantly in
a perfectly wild state in most of the London parks. In
such localities, ike the Wood-pigeon, it lays aside its usual
timidity, and feeds boldly with the other wildfowl when fed
by visitors, and by its presence adds very much to the interest
of the many lakes—like the one in St. James’s Park, the
Serpentine, and others.

Though such an aquatic species, its feet are not webbed,
and it always appears to swim, not exactly with difficulty,
but with more or less exertion. The long toes seem to be
better adapted for running over the broad surface of floating
lily-leaves than for swimming. Much of its time is spent
on land, exploring ditches and threading the long herbage
which grows in rank abundance in damp and marshy
situations.

In its habits there is a curious mingling of boldness and
extreme timidity. It will build its nest perfectly openly in
a roadside pond, and yet its presence is often unsuspected
by the great majority of the passers-by. At the approach
of a footstep it slips noiselessly from the nest, barely making
a ripple, and either hides under the bank or among the
reeds or rushes. Failing any hiding-place of this kind, it
will dive and hold on to the weeds at the bottom, only

putting up the tip of its beak to breathe till the danger is

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 165

past. Its young are equally adepts at hiding from the
moment they are well out of the egg. They will crouch
and hide in any hole and cranny, and remain perfectly
motionless until told by the parent-bird that the coast is
clear. One I caught, not more than a day or two old, on
being released, dived under some crowfoot in shallow water,
keeping its head under so long that to save its life I fished

it out again. Then, replacing it in the water, I took out

Rincep Plover (4:gialitis hiaticula), PHOTOGRAPHED AT ENFIELD
SEWAGE-FARM.

my watch and timed it while it dived again, and found it
could remain perfectly submerged for sixty seconds. At
the end of this time it came up, gasping for breath, but
dived again directly afterwards.

Several broods are hatched during the summer, and the
half-grown young of the first will assist in feeding the freshly
hatched young of the second brood. To accommodate the
young birds, the parents generally make a second nest. This

is often composed of green weeds, built up in shallow water

166 Pictures of Bird Life

and perfectly exposed to view; and on this they will brood
over their young. Sometimes the second nest is made of
sticks, placed athwart a fallen branch or tree; and these are
often of such a length and thickness as to cause surprise
at the birds being able to manipulate them.

The hours [I have spent trying to photograph Water-
hens have been generally wasted. Hiding up at one which
seemed to be well placed for the purpose, though I was
carefully hidden under a thick bush, one of the birds quickly
found me out. Hearing a slight rustle behind me, I turned
‘autiously, and she flew away from close behind me. As
there was no other hiding-place within reach, I climbed a
tree, and sat there. After a time—comparatively short,
perhaps an hour—one of them swam out from round the
corner, and proceeded straight to the nest, immediately below
me. This should have resulted in a successful photograph,
but for some stupid mistake in arranging the camera. On
trying the same plan again, however, the birds must have
seen me descending, for they refused to approach a second
time, though I waited patiently for hours. Finally I was
obliged to give up any further attempt. for my hiding-place
was discovered by some boys. Unfortunately the road
was near, and one of them on their way home from school
“spotted” me up the tree while they were all looking over
the fence for some mischief to do. I heard one say, * There's
a rabbit!” and another, “There’s a man up a tree!” “I
‘an see his ears move!”—that must have been the rabbit's.

I presume. Then they saw my bicycle on the ground, and

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 167

proceeded to shout and throw stones at me, and _ finally
climbed over the fence to meddle with the bicycle. I was
eventually obliged to show myself and descend to drive them
away; and after all the uproar it was not worth while
starting again. I had already been up the tree about five
hours. It was probably as well that I could not catch any
of the young rascals.

The Golden Plover is only a winter visitor to the marshes
in hard weather—wildfowl weather—and seems to be decreasing
in numbers; but the Lapwing is a resident all the year round.
Large flocks of these birds may be seen during the winter
in the marshes and cabbage-fields, but very early in_ the
year they pair, and resort to certain fields in which they
are accustomed to nest. Their characteristic flight, as, with
rounded wings, they now rise in the air and now swoop
down almost to the ground, uttering their wild, plaintive cry,
“ Pee-weet, weet-a-weet,” adds a great charm to the land-
scape, and enlivens many a bare expanse of fallow and
moor. From the note is derived not only the English
name “ Peewit,” but the Dutch name “ Kievit,” and also
the French “ Dix-huit.”

The eggs may be readily found with a little practice,
but an unaccustomed eye has some difficulty in seeing them,
even when pointed out. Both sexes being of very con-
spicuous plumage, and the nests being on open ground,
they are very shy while breeding, and leave their nests as
soon as a stranger approaches within two hundred or three

hundred yards. Farm-labourers, however, do not excite

168 Pictures of Bird Life

much alarm as they go about their daily work. The male
birds keep strict watch, and give the alarm to the sitting
females. ‘These never rise direct from the eggs, but run
some distance before taking flight.

If at your approach both birds wheel around with loud
outeries, and perhaps tumble to the ground as though injured,
or fly immediately over your head, you may depend upon it
that they have young ones hiding among the grass. If they
have eges, they fly right away. If now you hide up in some
ditch or convenient bush and watch, the bird which first
appears with wailing cries and tumbling flight 1s the cock.
It is no use watching him: his duty is to humbug you ;
and if you do not know his tricks, he will do it very
cleverly.

If you pay too much attention to him, you may miss
seeing the hen, which will fly silently and quietly low down,
and settle in the farther corner of the field, standing at first
perfectly motionless for some time. I think that generally
for the first few yards the direction in which she runs
will be likely to point to the nest, but it is very difficult
to say with certainty. Anyway, after a yard or two she
will stop and pretend to feed and preen herself, and then
start off in another direction. She will then run about in
an apparently aimless fashion, as if thinking of anything
rather than sitting on eggs; but always, in the long-run,
she will approach the nest by slow degrees.

It is very pretty to see her daintily tripping over the

rough ground, now stopping to pick up an insect, now

Sein a Suburban Parish 169

Littte Grepe (Podiceps fluwiatilis) on Fitoatinc Nest
IN St. James's Park.

standing motionless, as if listening; then, stretching her
wings, running nimbly in the opposite direction. | Some-
times she will be almost hidden from sight in the furrows,
and her movements can only be traced by her erect crest.
Then perhaps she will fly off to another part of the field,
and repeat the whole performance over again. Now and then
she will stand on some molehill or little elevation facing
your hiding-place; then the snow-white breast and_ black
collar are very conspicuous against the grass. (This black
collar in the hen has a white patch in the centre.) Even when,
after endless deviations and precautions, she does eventually
reach the nest, she will run up and down and round and
round, as if nothing was there, many times before actually
settling on her eggs.

170 Pictures of Bird Life

Then, if you have cunningly arranged your camera, and
covered it up carefully with clods of earth and tufts of
grass, and set the shutter, you can pull the long string pro-
vided to release it; and you may get your photograph, or
you may not. IT have known the bird time after time
spring up at the click of the shutter, either in time to
escape altogether or to give only a blur and flash of wings.

The freshly hatched young birds seem to leave the nest
as soon as they are dry, and do not return to it. They can
not only run nimbly after their mother, and hide when
danger threatens, but they can swim, like young Water-hens,
without any doubt or hesitation. I fancy they must drink
a good deal. A young Lapwing crouching in the grass is
curiously inconspicuous. I have often found one, and then,
having taken my eyes off it for a moment, have been unable
to see it again for a considerable time.

Mention has already been made of the sewage-farm
as attracting wading-birds to its tanks and _ filter-beds.
Doubtless on migration these birds, when passing over at
night, have been attracted by the gleaming pools, and on
alighting have found plenty of food and shelter, until they
have regularly visited such a congenial spot. No doubt a
similar state of things would be found to exist in other sewage-
farms : but it is very interesting to find such birds at all so
near London—in fact, within the London postal district : and
more interesting still to find them nesting. In 1901 I was
able to communicate to the Field and the Zoologist an account

of the nesting of the Ringed Plover at the Enfield sewage-farm.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish ila

I had several times watched small numbers of Dunlins and
Ringed Plovers through the winter, but a few of the latter
lingered on until the summer. At last, one day a pair were
noticed which, by their behaviour, were unmistakably nesting ;
but unable to find anything, I feared that the eggs had
been destroyed by a harrow, which was at work over the
ground chiefly haunted by them. Being about to go
abroad, I was unable to continue the search, but the super-
intendent, a good naturalist, kindly undertook to keep his
eye on them. On my return he told me he had caught
and handled two young Ringed Plovers in down, which
had got into one of his carriers, and were unable to extricate
themselves until he came to the rescue. This places the
fact of their having nested beyond a doubt.

The sight of these daintiest of birds tripping over the
oozy margins of the pools and wading in search of food
Was a great treat, and one day I was actually able to
photograph them while so employed. With them were
sometimes a few Redshanks, which also remained on the
farm throughout the summer, but apparently, from their
actions, did not nest; but I often enjoyed their wild note
and the sight of them feeding. Knots, Curlews, and
Green Sandpipers may also be frequently observed.

Snipe are extremely common here during the winter
months, and in 1901 a pair nested. For daily one of them
used to “drum” overhead; but hours of searching up to
my knees in liquid sewage failed to discover the nest-—the

coarse, rank vegetation was too thick.

172 Pictures of Bird Life

During a short spell of frost and snow one January,
I spent five days in the attempt to photograph a Snipe on
the ground. T*or five hours each day I sat on the snow
covered over with a sheet, in the middle of a flooded field.
Lapwings were very numerous, and sometimes came rather
close, and Snipe were constantly seen flying over. Several
were on the ground in front of me for a considerable time ;

but the dim light of a winter's day was not enough to

Litrte GRrEBE (Podiceps fluvistilis).

distinguish them in the photograph from the muddy ground on
which they sat, and the photographs were of no practical use.
Wild Geese may often be seen flying over in their
accustomed V-shaped formation during the winter months.
Black-headed Gulls frequent occasionally not only the
sewage-farm, but also an artificially flooded pond made for
skating. One day I saw a flock of quite a hundred birds flying
about and settling on the ice. Every now and then the Guils
were driven off by a Carrion-crow which seemed to resent their

presence, but after wheeling round they soon returned to the spot.

Bird Life in a Suburban Parish 173

The Dabchick, or Little Grebe, nests occasionally in the
various ponds, and I have been interested in watching
the quaint actions of this diminutive diver, which, like
the Wood-pigeon and the Water-hen, has taken to nesting
regularly in the London parks. It is really a great deal
more safe in the heart of London than anywhere else; for
these birds are carefully protected, and a great deal of interest

is taken in them, so that they do not stand much chance

Litre Grese (Podiceps fluviatilis) ¥EEDING ITS YOUNG.

of coming to harm. ‘Two whole days spent opposite their
nest in St. James’s Park were very enjoyable, and resulted
in some good photographs.

Now that the Great Crested Grebe nests in Richmond
Park, perhaps we may indulge in the hope that these most
stately and ornamental of all water-birds will also establish
themselves in one of the London parks, where they would
be heartily welcomed, and would give as much pleasure to
Londoners as the yearly visits of the Black-headed Gulls

which are now so regularly expected.

CHAPTER LY.
A Lincolnshire Mud-flat

Mvp, miles and miles of mud, and tidal ooze are the chief
characteristic features of the shores of the Wash. <A little
farther north, where the sand predominates, the shallow sea
is full of innumerable shrimps, which are caught, not from
boats, but in nets trailed astern from a cart; but below
Skegness the mud begins. The Friskney Flat, for instance,
is three miles wide and nearly ten miles in length. At low
tide the sea is invisible from the sea-wall, save as a narrow
streak midway between the Lincolnshire and Norfolk coasts.

This vast expanse of mud, as autumn approaches, is
peopled by immense numbers of birds, chiefly waders, which
appear with unfailing regularity every year. Many of them
hail from the mysterious solitudes of the frozen north, never
yet trodden by the foot of man; others from Scandinavian
fells and the desolate “tundras” of Siberia.

In those far-distant shores they have spent the short
summer nesting and rearing their young broods, until the
signs of quickly approaching winter began to be perceptible,
warning them to start on their southward journey to warmer
climes. Gradually they are working down, stopping to rest

174

A Lincolnshire Mud-flat 175

and feed in suitable places.
As they travel onwards their
places are constantly taken
by fresh arrivals, while they
pass along our coasts, and

through the vast marshy

plains of Southern Europe,

until they are lost in the
great African Continent, the
winter quarters of so many
millions of the feathered race.

In the spring they begin their

return journey with equal

Bar-TAILED Gopwit (Limosa lappontca),
WINTER PLUMAGE.

regularity.

Hence it is that the mud-flats of the Wash, which all
the summer through have been almost devoid of bird life.
are now alive with immense flocks, busily running over
the shimmering surface, and flying along the water’s edge
as the encroaching tide restricts their feeding-grounds and
drives them along before it.

White flocks of Gulls, like drifting sea-foam dot
the distant margin. Curlews, Godwits, Redshanks, Knots,
and Ovyster-catchers explore the shallow pools tufted with
samphire. Ever and anon circling flocks of Dunlins, now
dark against the sky, now gleaming white against the moist
muddy surface, dash past in search of fresh feeding-grounds ;
while others trip nimbly over the shining sands, or with

half-expanded wings, like tiny pleasure-boats, run before the

176 Pictures of Bird Life

wind. By day the scene is one of great animation, and the
constant arrival of countless thousands fills the silent watches
of the mght with the beatings of innumerable wings and the
mysterious sound of their cries to one another. We see the
flocks which safely reach our shores; but who can estimate
the numbers of weary wanderers which fall utterly spent
and exhausted into the pitiless sea, or dash themselves
against the lanterns of lightships and lighthouses, attracted
to their death by the glaring rays /

On first arrival many of them are ridiculously tame, and
show by their boldness how unaccustomed they are to the
presence of man. Dunlins, instead of flying off at one’s
approach, will often run behind a tuft of grass, and con-
tinue feeding in the most fearless and unconcerned manner,
and Godwits also show little fear. Danger, however, besets
them on every side, and they soon learn caution and how to
take care of themselves. Shore-shooters and gunners take
toll of them, and they are caught wholesale in the flight-
nets, which at this season are stretched over the flats at right
angles to the incoming tide. During the night the treacherous
meshes entangle numbers of them while flying from one
feeding-ground to another, six or seven dozen Knots taken
out of one net being a not uncommon experience.

At Friskney lives old Bray, the most skilful flight-netter
on the coast: and three or four days were spent with him a
few years ago iy watching his methods of circumventing wild-
fowl.

Turning out of our lodgings before daybreak one cold,

A Lincolnshire Mud=flat 177

raw morning, we walked half a mile in drizzling rain to
Bray's cottage, finding the old man struggling into his big
sea-boots. ‘Then shouldering a lot of empty bags, destined
to receive the bodies, alive and dead, of the night’s catch,

we proceeded together to the flats. On reaching the sea-

EARLY MorNING AT THE NETS.

wall, we turned off along it to the left for some distance,
in order to avoid a creek which winds in a devious direction
towards the sea.

These creeks are quite invisible a few yards away, and
help to make this coast a very dangerous one for strangers ;

178 Pictures of Bird Life

for the tide advances so rapidly on the flat shores, that any
shooter rash enough to venture alone, without knowing all
the creeks and inequalities behind him, may suddenly find
himself cut off by half a mile or so of deep water, and
will be lucky if he escapes with his life.

Picking our way along in the grey morning light over
the slippery mud, and splashing through the pools, we
begin at last to be able to see in the distance the long
line of the nearest net, and can soon distinguish various
birds suspended in the meshes. On one of the upright
stakes sits a fine Peregrine Falcon, evidently attracted by
the fluttering of the captured birds, but too knowing to
venture to strike at them. As we advance, she soars into
the air and soon disappears. We had heard rumours of a
large Hawk about the shore a day or two before.

The nets are from two hundred to three hundred feet
in length, each piece six feet high and_ thirty-five yards
long, suspended between upright stakes driven into the
mud. As soon as a bird strikes the net, which is made
of very fine twine, and with a large mesh, it is entangled,
and the more it struggles the more hopelessly it becomes
bound. Sometimes, indeed, it is no easy task even for a
practised hand to free it from the toils. The nets must
be visited at daybreak; for if left, the Grey Crows will find
them, and help themselves to the smaller birds, and to
those which have been caught in the lower meshes and
drowned by the advancing tide.

After visiting four or five nets, the round taking us

A Lincolnshire Mud=flat 179

five or six miles over very bad ground, the bags getting
heavier and heavier as we proceed, we are by no means
sorry to get back to the village and a good breakfast.

The take has not been anything very great—the bulk
of the birds being Black-headed and Common Gulls, one
immature Great Black-backed Gull, and some Lapwings,
Godwits, Stints, Dunlins, Knots, and a Curlew, the greater
number alive and uninjured. These are turned out -into
pens awaiting their disposal, and the dead ones put aside.

They eat the Gulls here, the market-price being one
penny each; and the orthodox manner of cooking them is
to make what they call a “pot-pie.” I believe they are
skinned and boiled as a preliminary, and was assured that
they were very good. However, I did not feel tempted
to try, so cannot say from experience whether they are to
be recommended as a dish for epicures. They are cheap
enough, at any rate.

But wading- and sea-birds are not the only ones which
come ashore here. The Grey Crows, which haunt the shores
all the winter, as well as the fields more inland, come over
from the Scandinavian Peninsula, and also Woodcocks and
Short-eared Owls. The former of these are seldom caught,
presumably because they fly too high; but the latter are
often taken in the nets.

I saw myself one day the arrival of a Short-eared Owl,
hustled and mobbed by a lot of Rooks. It is often flushed
from turnip-fields by Partridge-shooters, and, coming about

the same time as the Woodcock, is known sometimes as

180 Pictures of Bird Life

the Woodcock-owl, and in Norfolk as the Marsh- (or Mash-)
owl. It even nests on the ground among sedges and coarse
grass, but is now better known and more common as a
winter visitor than a resident breeding species. However,

whenever the country is devastated by a plague of voles

3RAY TAKING BIRDS OUT OF FLIGHT-NET.

such as took place in Scotland in 1893—the Short-eared
Owls flock to the infected spot and do good service, as is
shown by the report of the Committee appointed by the
Board of Agriculture, published in the Zoologist for April,
1893:

“In consequence of the vast multiplication of their

A Lincolnshire Mud=flat ESI

favourite food, the vole, these Owls have not only arrived
in unusual numbers, but have remained and bred all over
the district affected, laying from eight to thirteen eggs
(though Prof. Newton, in his edition of ‘ Yarrell’s British
Birds, mentions seven as an unusual number), and rearing
more than one brood. ‘The shepherd on Crooked Stone
counted fourteen nests on his ground. The small wood
behind the farmsteading of Howpasley presented a remark-
able appearance, the ground being densely covered with
the ‘ pellets’ or ‘castings’ of Owls, being composed of the
fur and bones of voles.”

Some years bring a remarkable invasion of Golden-
crested Wrens, and with them generally may be found a
specimen or two of the rarer Fire-crest. On these occasions
the hedges and bushes in the neighbourhood are thickly
covered with tiny wanderers, sometimes too fatigued with
their journey to proceed until refreshed by rest. Snow-
buntings also come over more or less regularly, if not in
such large numbers.

Occasionally there will be a sudden invasion of some
unusual species in great numbers to the eastern shores of
England. The winter of 1893-4 will be remembered for the
numbers of Lapland Buntings, which before the previous year
had only been known as very occasional stragglers. In 1888
there was the extraordinary passage of Pallas’s Sand-grouse,
not only to the eastern counties, but all over England and
Scotland, and the whole of Europe. In 1892 large numbers

of Ruddy Sheldrakes invaded Britain; and arly in 1895,

182 Pictures of Bird Life

and again in 1900, the shores of Lincolnshire and Norfolk
were strewn with Little Auks, either dead or dying.

It is fortunate, seeing so many rare wanderers turn
up on our eastern coasts, that there have been competent
observers ever on the watch to detect them in both Lin-
colnshire and Norfolk. For years Mr. Caton-Haigh and the
late Mr. Cordeaux in Lincolnshire, and Messrs. Gurney and
Southwell and the late Mr. Stevenson in Norfolk, have
watched the arrivals annually, and have recorded not a few
occurrences of most extreme interest: for among crowds of
the common migrants there is always a chance of a rarity:
and following the rush of small birds, for the purpose of
preying upon them, are often large birds of prey—such as
Falcons and Buzzards.

The Great Grey Shrike is a tolerably common winter
visitor on our east coast while in attendance on flocks of
little birds.

But while birds which breed in Scandinavia, Lapland,
and Siberia may be expected to visit us on their south-
ward passage, it is less easy to account for the occasional
occurrence of American and Asiatic species. How is it
that hardly a year passes without a few such occurrences /
Among the order of Limicole there are no less than
twelve American species which have been recorded from our
coasts, and some of these on several occasions.

It is inconceivable that these birds, which are none of
them noted for very strong and long-sustained flight, should

have crossed the Atlantic in defiance of all known habits

A Lincolnshire Mud=flat 183

of their class. It is more reasonable, surely, to suppose that,
returning southwards from their circumpolar breeding-grounds
(and it seems customary for all this class of birds to nest
at the farthest northern limit of their range), they lost
their way or became mixed with flocks of similar habits
which were bound for the European route instead of that

through the American Continent.

Lesser BLACK-BACKED GULL (IMMATURE) CAUGHT IN FLIGHT-NET,

How else can the presence be accounted for of so many
of this kind of bird ?—the Solitary and Spotted Sandpipers,
the Pectoral Sandpiper, Bartram’s Sandpiper, Bonaparte’s
Sandpiper, the Buff-breasted Sandpiper, Eskimo Curlew,
Red-breasted Snipe, Yellowshank, American Stint, Kill-deer
Plover, and Lesser Golden Plover—birds which usually

range through the entire length of the great American

184 Pictures of Bird Life

Continent, from the Arctic Circle to Patagonia and
Chili.

The extent of the world’s surface covered by birds in
the course of the year, many of them ‘of minute size and
feeble flight, is really a most interesting and fascinating
part of the study of bird life, and one too often neglected
by naturalists.

We are too insular even in our ornithology, and rather
too much inclined to rank all birds not on the * British”
list as outsiders, unworthy of any consideration at all. It
really adds very much to the interest of any particular
bird seen to know where it has come from and whither it
is bound.

These Knots just taken out of Bray’s nets, for instance,
have come recently from the farthest north. Various Arctic
explorers have found them and their young in lat. 81°
and 82°; but no eggs are known to exist in any collections,
national or private, though the birds in their grey winter
plumage are so abundant in the autumn. Those which
escape the dangers from nets, shore-shooters, and birds of prey
will work their way south, passing, many of them, through
the Spanish marismas, where they are extremely common on
passage, and, according to Saunders, down the west coast
of Africa as far as Damaraland: and the return journey
brings them back again, passing up our eastern shores, in
the red breeding-plumage, the following May. Truly a
wonderful annual performance.

What a pleasure it is to be able to follow to their

A Lincolnshire Mud=flat 185

foreign breeding-grounds birds which have only been known
as winter visitors, or perhaps only as stuffed specimens or
skins in a museum! A _ little experience like this does
more to broaden one’s views and open one’s mind than

anything I know of.

CurLEw (Numentus arquatus).

CHAPTER 1
The Sea-birds of the Farne Islands

Anypopy desirous of seeing sea-fowl “at home,” and of
watching their habits and customs, should make a_ point
of visiting the Farne Islands. This group of little rocky
islets, set in the North Sea five or six miles from the coast
of Northumberland, has been known for ages past as_ the
summer resort of countless numbers of sea-birds. Ever since
the days of St. Cuthbert, and probably for centuries before
that, they have flocked in myriads to these remote rocks
for nesting purposes.

Latterly, however, the continued existence of this interest-
ing breeding-station being imperilled by the greed of the
fishermen, and by the thoughtless cruelty of the tourists
from the neighbouring towns, the islands have been leased
by an association of naturalists, who employ, during the
season, four watchers to live on the islands for the protec-
tion of their feathered tenants. This has resulted in a most
satisfactory increase in the numbers of the birds. which have
been in some danger of extermination, and also in_ the
remarkable tameness displayed by them.

Having arrived at North Sunderland or Bamborough, it

186

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 187

is necessary to engage a fishing-“ coble,” as the boats of this
locality are called. They are fine seaworthy boats, lugger-
rigged, and manned by a crew of three.

After leaving the small fishing-harbour, I found no indi-
cation of the existence in the immediate netghbourhood of
any large number of breeding sea-birds. A few Terns were
to be seen hovering with graceful flight and swooping down
on the scraps of fish from the herring-boats, with some
stray Gulls and a few Gannets engaged in their unique
manner of fishing. As the boat rushes forwards over the
heaving waves, a few Puffins and Guillemots may be passed,
riding buoyantly over the billows. These, as the boat ap-
proaches, suddenly dive, to come up again far away on the
other side. The water is so clear and transparent that the
brilliant colour of the Puffins’ legs may be distinctly seen
as they scull themselves along under water. Exceedingly
comical they look, with their trim, squat figures and im-
mense, gaily coloured beaks. Every now and then one will
pop up from below with a iittle silvery fish hanging from
its beak, and fly off with it to its solitary young one,
anxiously awaiting its arrival at the mouth of the nesting-
burrow. Both they and the Guillemots are as much at
home below the surface as they are above it, and are most
expert in catching such slippery customers as sand-eels and
the fry of various fishes.

The sight of the islands to which a visitor is always
taken first is the “ Pinnacles,” where the Guillemots breed.

An extraordinary scene it is too, and one well worth the

188 Pictures of Bird Life

NestLinc Purrin (Fratercula arctica) 1% Down at MoutH oF Burrow.

journey alone. Off one end of the largest island—called, I
think, Staple Island—are four detached, flat-topped rocks or
stacks, rising straight up from the sea to the height of forty
or fifty feet, so that the top of them is exactly level with
the end of the adjacent island, of which at one time they
doubtless formed a part. The whole of the upper surface
of these stacks is yellow-washed from the droppings of the
birds, which crowd together in such numbers as to com-
pletely cover the flat tops. Nothing is to be seen but a
dense mass of Guillemots, so closely packed together that
a fresh bird coming up from the sea has some difficulty in
finding standing-room ; and it is quite a common thing to
see several birds standing on the top of their companions,

struggling to squeeze In.

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 189

Each of these birds is engaged in incubating its single
egg. Like the Puffins, they only lay one, and, like these
birds also, the egg is disproportionately large for the size
of the bird, so much so that it would not be capable of
covering two.

Their eggs, as is well known, show an_ extraordinary
diversity in colour and markings. The eground-colour of
some is quite white, others are bright green, and every con-
ceivable shade of yellow and brown, and sometimes blue, is
to be seen. The markings are generally striking and_ bold
in character; but these, too, vary as much as the ground-
colour, so that out of hundreds of eggs no two will be

found alike. It may be that this diversity serves a useful

—

Caen. eid

Tue Pinnactes. Drawn FROM PuHoroGRaAPHs.

190 Pictures of Bird Life
purpose in enabling each bird to identify its own egg, which
would, if the eggs resembled one another, be a matter of

some difficulty. Their remarkably pointed shape has been

supposed to be for

the purpose of les-
sening the risk of
their rolling over
the edge of the
rock —a_ risk to

which they are pe-

culiarly liable,
being simply de-
posited on the bare
surface without the
slightest vestige of
nest to keep them
in position. It
must be admitted
that their shape
does make them
less likely to roll,
the tendency being

for them to. re-

volve on their own

GUILLEMOTS AND KITTIWAKES ON THE PINNACLES.

axis.
All the birds are in constant motion, continually bowing
their heads up and down in a particularly grotesque fashion,

and engaged in preening their feathers and quarrelling with

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 191

one another. Numbers are constantly ieaving the rocks for
the sea below, and others as constantly arriving. The surface
of the sea is also thickly dotted with birds. It is perfectly
easy to watch them from the edge of the main island, which

is only separated from the nearest stack by a gap of ten or

GUILLEMOTS ON THE PINNACLES.

fifteen yards. All the narrow ledges of rock near the top
are also occupied by the Guillemots.

The lower crannies and holes in the precipitous sides
of the stacks, as well as of the island itself, are occupied
by the Kittiwakes. Some of their nests are so near to
the restless waves, which constantly break over the base of

the rocks, that many eggs and young birds must be washed

192 Pictures of Bird Life

out of them in rough weather. The nests are fairly large
and well made, apparently of seaweed and turf, wedged into
the cliff-face wherever there is a hole or crack large enough
to hold it.

The pure and spotless plumage of these beautiful Gulls
looks of a dazzling white against the dark and rugged rocks,
and the scene is one of great beauty. The sea below, bathed
in the glorious rays of the midday sun, glitters as if com-
posed of molten jewels, and is fretted into a network of
creamy foam as the everlasting surge beats incessantly
against the opposing cliffs. Fresh birds are constantly
arriving with food for their young, or flying off for supplies,
and their shrill cry of ‘ Kitty-kea, kitty-kea,” resounds
from all sides.

The Kittiwakes, though nesting in such numbers on the
same rocks, are never so crowded together as the Guillemots.
Kach pair of birds build their nest just wherever they can
find a suitable place in the perpendicular face of the cliff.
They never build on a flat surface like the larger Gulls. If
two or three suitable crannies happen to be close together,
there will be a nest in each: if not, they will be corre-
spondingly farther apart.

They present the most charming little pictures of -bird
life. Standing on the extreme edge of one of the numerous
rifts and chasms, or on a jutting promontory of rock, you can
look across a’ few feet of space right into the nests. At
the time of my visit, the first week in July, the nests for

the most part contained freshly hatched birds, sometimes

‘LSUN NO (v)AZIDpi4y VSSRT) AMVAILLIY

194 Pictures of Bird Life

one egg and one young one. In many cases one or both
of the parents remained standing on or about the nest

without displaying the slightest fear or timidity.

Purrins (Fratercula arctica).

Most of the islands appear to be of the same formation,
sloping gradually at one end into the sea, and at the other
rising abruptly to the height of about forty feet. This
higher part is worn into fantastic pinnacles and jutting
crags by the action of the waves. In some parts there is
a depth of peaty soil covered with short turf, and some-
times with a luxuriant growth of bladder campion and
dock.

This peaty soil is completely honeycombed by _ the
Puffins for their nesting-burrows ; whether these holes,

which exactly resemble rabbit-holes, are made by the Puffins

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 195

themselves, or by the rabbits which are also found here, I
do not quite know. At any rate, the Puffin is well equipped
with his big beak for excavating a hole for himself, or
equally well fitted, by means of the same weapon, for ousting
the rabbits w et armis from their habitations.

At the end of these burrows the Puffins lay one large
white egg. They may be readily caught in the holes,
which are not as a rule beyond arm’s-length. But before
going Puffin-catching it is advisable to put on a _ stout
glove; for the first intimation that the bird is at home

will be a sharp nip, and you realise that the Puffin has

the sh
ea a

Purrin’s Burrow, sHowinc EcG anp Heap oF Birp.

caught you first. It can bite hard—nearly hard enough to
take a piece out of your glove—and hang on vindictively,

its little black eyes seeming to twinkle with anger and

196 Pictures of Bird Life

resentment at being disturbed. On putting one down on

the ground, it is at first unable to rise, but flutters along

Nest oF Lesser BLAcK-BACKED GULL (Larus fuscus).

to the edge of the cliff in order to launch itself into the
air; once started, however, it is quite at home.

The young Puffins in their downy dress are curious little
objects, sooty brown or dull black in colour, with white
chests. Their beaks have neither the size nor the brilliant
colours of the old ones. The old Puffins are fond of sitting
in small groups on elevated points of rock, discussing, I
presume, the weather and the state of the fish-market.
The postures of these birds are very comical, some bolt
upright, others sitting or squatting, and others flapping their

little short wings as if to dry them.

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 197

Each island has its own special inhabitants. The Guille-
mots are entirely restricted to the pinnacles, while the chief
stronghold of the Cormorants is on the Megstone. The
Terns in 1895 were nesting in large numbers in the “ Wide-
opens. The Lesser Black-backed Gulls and the Herring-
gulls nest all over the islands, making their untidy nests
indiscriminately anywhere on the flat surface, never on the
perpendicular sides of the cliffs. Many are in the corners
of the bare rocks, and others are placed amid the tall docks
and campion. One nest was particularly well constructed
of bladder campion pulled up by the roots, with the white
flowers still fresh.

The eggs are very variable in colour, from dirty white
to a dark olive-brown, and the eggs of the two species so
much resemble one
another that it is
impossible to identify
them unless you see
the birds. The
Herring-gulls, how-
ever, are much in
the minority, not
much more than five

per cent. being of this

species. Young birds

Lesser BLack-BAcCKED GULL (Larus fuscus).

of both species, in
dirty yellow down mottled with brown, are to be seen running

about the rocks and paddling in the pools of rain-water. As

198 Pictures of Bird Life

you approach them they crouch into a corner, and so much
do they resemble the rock on which they are squatting that
when motionless it is difficult to avoid treading on them.

The adult Gulls wheel round to the spot in hundreds,
the moment the boat touches their island domain, amid
great excitement and loud and angry cries. On landing, you
are greeted with many unsavoury salutes as the birds soar
overhead, every step being accompanied by splashes on the
rocks on every side. It is like being under fire. Before I
had landed two minutes, both my coat and hat were
plentifully besprinkled, while the birds laughed derisively,
“Hla, ha, ha.” They are most bold-looking and handsome
birds, but are great robbers. living chiefly by plundering
their weaker neighbours, devouring both eggs and young,
if left unprotected for a moment.

When trying to approach the other birds, I found their
Anquisitive behaviour a great nuisance. Just when I was
most anxious not to attract attention, they would wheel
around me with much clamour and outcry.

On the island known as the ‘* Wide-opens” there were
large colonies of both the Arctic and Sandwich Terns. There
used to be a settlement of the Lesser Terns, which some
years ago died out. and I do not know whether the attempt
to re-establish them by placing eggs from other localities in
the nests of the larger species has been successful or
not. ‘The Common Tern used to nest also, though I saw
none. Since the better protection of the birds a few pairs

of the rare Roseate Terns have nested annually, and seem

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 199

to be increasing again. It is not so easy, however, for an
inexperienced eye to distinguish an isolated pair or two of
any particular species, mingled with so many hundreds of the
common kinds.

On landing, the numbers of white forms flying in wild

confusion give one the idea of a snowstorm, and the invasion

Eiper-puck (Somateria mollissima) SITTING,

of their nesting-ground is greeted by a babel of incessant
outery. The note is a repetition of ‘“ Kreee-kr-ee.”

The Arctic Terns were mostly nesting in the shingly
shores, some among the stones, and others among the drift-
wood and seaweed above high-water mark. Not much of
a nest is made in these situations. The Sandwich Terns’
nests were generally higher up, among the bladder campion ;

and here the nests were simple hollows in the ground,

200 Pictures of Bird Life

sometimes very close together, Two and three eggs is the
full clutch. Many young birds had been hatched, and
dozens of them were dead in the nests, killed by a heavy
storm of wind and rain on the previous day. The eggs
of the Sandwich ‘ferns are very richly coloured and marked,
and are much more handsome than those of the Arctic
Terns, as well as much larger. They appear shy at the
nest, and when. sitting the long swallow-like wings are
crossed high over the back, and the head is very upright.
After photographing the nest of a Sandwich Tern con-
taining an egg, a young bird, and the empty shell from

which it had just emerged, the other egg also hatched

~ N
~ y

4 Ws X

Nest OF OysTER-CATCHER (Hamatopus ostralegus).

The Sea-birds of the Farne Islands 201
before I had taken the camera away. Young in down are
yellowish grey. Terns are very plucky in defence of their

nests, and I saw one pursue a Lesser Black-backed Gull

Cormorants (Phalacrocorax carbo),

which had approached too near, striking at it repeatedly,
and following it resolutely for a considerable distance. One
of the watchers had been struck on the head the previous
day by one of them.

Near to the Tern colony were two nests of Eiders.
On one the duck was sitting hard, and our photographic
operations did not disturb her. There is no bird which
sits closer than the Eider. This one allowed us to stroke
her on the nest. The other nest only held three eggs and
a small quantity of the famous down, which is not de-
posited in any quantity until the full clutch of eggs is

laid. The nests are sometimes on the bare rocks, often

2O2 Pictures of Bird Life

among the campion, where they are perfectly hidden, and
at the foot of the ruined buildings or inside the roofless
walls.

On the rocks at the water’s edge was a flock of about

rate thirty Eiders,
mostly ducks,
but among
them were a
few drakes.
Only one of
these was in
the beautiful
male plumage

the others
had begun to

assume the

duck plumage,
and were in
‘ceclipsem
dress, a very

interesting

sight.

Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo).

Farther on
was a small flock of five or six Ovyster-catchers, uttering
their somewhat plaintive pipe as they searched the seaweed-
covered rocks, uncovered by the falling tide. Close to
an old wreck, cast up high and dry by the fierce gales

of winter, was a nest belonging to some of them. ‘This

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 203

was better made than is usual with these birds, being
a fairly substantial structure of stalks, in which were three
eggs and two rabbit bones by way of ornament.

On a patch of wet sand, reflecting the colours of sky
and clouds, and on which the long billowy swell broke
lazily in little ripples, a large flock of Terns had _ settled,

while others soared and hovered above them, their white

Cormorants (Phalacrocorax carbo) SITTING.

wings and snowy plumage looking very brilliant against
the sunlit sea.

On the highest point of rock of the neighbouring island
were a number of Cormorants on their nests. These I
determined to photograph, if it were possible—though I
must say I hardly expected that they would allow of a
close enough approach.

When landed, it took some time to climb up to the

204. Pictures of Bird Life

top of their rocky islet, necessitating several journeys to
get up the camera and belongings. The climbing was easy
and simple enough, merely clambering up huge boulders,
one on the top of the other: but laden with cameras and
breakables it took some time, especially as they were very
slippery. However, at last I got everything up, and there,
forty yards away, were fifteen or sixteen Cormorants sitting.
Covering the camera with a large green bag, and getting
inside myself, I started crawling on my knees in_ their
direction, until slowly and laboriously I reached the rocks
on which the nests are placed.

All this time the Gulls were wheeling overhead, and
screaming their hardest, and the Cormorants began to show
serious alarm, one bird in particular standing up in the
nest, as though meditating flight. As the flight of one
would probably lead to the departure of the whole lot, I
thought it better to halt until their confidence was regained
a little. While waiting I exposed a plate or two on them
in case of failure in getting any nearer, and when they
appeared to have settled down I proceeded. It was now
necessary to move very cautiously indeed, an inch at a
time, over the rough surface, through pools of stagnant
rain-water, nearly squashing on my way several young
Gulls, until I was within five yards of the nearest birds,
and could see the close scaly nature of their plumage and
their emerald-green eyes. Though they looked curiously in
my direction, I was enabled to obtain several good photo-

graphs before they finally took alarm and flew off.

The Sea=birds of the Farne Islands 205

The nests were large structures of seaweed and large stalks
of some kind, piled up on the rocks, sometimes so close
together as to touch. The nests were very flat, and the
majority held two chalky-white eggs, though some had three,
and one nest contained four. The smell in their immediate
proximity was very strong, and the rocks around were
plentifully whitewashed.

At the time of my visit I had seen some small birds
flitting about the rocks: but being then unaware that the
Rock-pipit was one of the species to be met with, I did
not take particular notice of them; nor did I see any
nest of the Ringed Plovers on the little shingly beaches
to be found on some of the islands.

The Gannets, which may be seen fishing around, are
visitors from the Bass Rock, which is only about forty miles
farther north, a mere trifle for these grand birds when
in search of food. To see them plunge from the clouds
is nearly as fine a sight as to watch an Osprey catch its
finny prey.

Permission to visit this sea-birds’ paradise is necessary ;
and when that is procured, you are allowed to land in company
with one of the watchers, who never leaves you, and is
responsible for your discreet behaviour. No eggs must be
taken, except perhaps a few of the Lesser Black-backed
Gull, which predatory species has to be kept rather in
check, as any undue increase in their numbers would mean
danger to their weaker neighbours.

CHAPTER. Wil
The Norfolk Broads

AMONG all the counties of England, Norfolk easily comes
out first for its list of birds, and a very large percentage
of rare occurrences are recorded by Norfolk naturalists.

lor this there are several reasons,—the chief, perhaps, being
its position, right in the track of migration, where so many
migrants from northern latitudes first strike our coast; and
secondly, the large extent of marsh and water still remain-
ing in what is known as the Broad district, where wading
and water-birds, driven away from the rest of England by
drainage and cultivation of their former haunts, may still
find a congenial refuge. Here they linger in ever-dwindling
numbers, but they are very reluctant to be driven away.
Again and again do they attempt to nest and establish them-
selves more firmly—only to have their eggs taken, their
young broods destroyed, and themselves shot without mercy.

The naturalist desirous of seeing some of these vanishing
species on English soil must hasten before it is too late.
Some have already ceased to nest even in the most secluded
spots in this unique and semi-aquatic district. and to read

the yearly Norfolk notes in the Zoologist is sad work.

209

The Norfolk Broads 207

Year by year the record is rather of disappearances than
occurrences—of dwindling numbers in the place of abun-
dance. It is true that a few species added to the list
of British birds are mostly from Norfolk; but these are
without exception accidental visitors—strays of migration,
which may never be seen again on our coast. Poor con-
solation for the steady diminution which is taking place
of regular breeding species, many of which are already
extinguished, and others, too many others, on the very
verge of annihilation.

The Great Bustard, Little Bustard, Hen-harrier, Ruff,
Spoonbill, Bittern, Avocet, Black Tern, Savi’s Warbler,
and Black-tailed Godwit have vanished as nesting species,
never, I fear, to return as such—a_ sad list of submerged
species once plentiful as regular summer visitors, and now
victims not so much of over-population, or even cultivation
(for there is plenty of room to spare for them still), as of
senseless persecution and the greed of collectors.

Most of these may still be met with haunting the scenes
where formerly they were so abundant, but only as straggling
individuals on migration, and are too often recorded in the
local papers as “shot and added to the collection of Mr.
So-and-so.” Luckily a local association has taken in hand
the protection of the birds on Breydon Broad, or there is
no doubt whatever that the number of bird murders would
be far higher than it is.

At this famous resort for rarities Black Terns and Godwits

may often be seen, and every year Spoonbills spend some

208 Pictures of Bird Life

days not more than a few miles from the spot where, two
hundred years ago, they were accustomed to nest. In 1895,
in May, a small flock of twelve Spoonbills visited Breydon.,
and were so effectually protected by the watcher employed
by the association as to escape the usual fate of such rare

birds in’ England, and in 1899 six visited the same _ place.

WADING AFTER BEARDED TITS, ETC., IN THE BROADsS.

In 1901 twelve Spoonbills) came, and again they escaped
molestation. Mr. Gurney, who records the fact. mentions that
they were sufficiently well known to have acquired the
nickname of * Banjo-bills,” not an inappropriate designation.
The Short-eared Owl, the Marsh-harrier, Montague’s
Harrier, the Gargeney Teal and Shoveller, and the lovely
Bearded Tit are all fast-disappearing species, and every year

sees their numbers still further diminishing.

y=, SA

=
—

nicus) AND NEST.

us bic

Bearvep Tit (Panur

210 Pictures of Bird Life

The best way to investigate the bird life of this most
interesting district is to live on board a small yacht or
wherry with accommodation for sleeping ; and if two or
three men with similar tastes join in an expedition of this sort,
it is by far the cheapest as well as the most enjoyable way.
There is the great advantage of being always on the spot,
and having a temporary home close to your day’s work,
instead of having to trudge long distances daily to and
from the nearest inn.

A party of four spent ten days in such a yacht in
May, 1899, living in the midst of our feathered friends, and
a most enjoyable time we had. Our evening meals under
the awning over the boom, while we discussed the events
of the day and our plans for the morrow, were enlivened
by the drumming of a Snipe across the river: and the
latest sounds as we turned in for the night were the
ripple of the water past our bows, the reeling of the
Grasshopper-warblers, and the Sedge-warblers chattering in
the reeds.

In the immediate neighbourhood of our boat we found
several nests of the Bearded Tit, and saw every day
some of the birds. Most beautiful and most distinguished-
looking of all our native birds they seem to me, and it
is a thousand pities they are getting so scarce. I am
glad to say our party had, before starting, resolved not to
take a single egg of the Bearded Tit during our stay.

It is easy enough to find the nests if you know how

and where to look; but you must be prepared to wade,

jas, He

} "hey bap a> “ae sé
bo AS 3
~ AV Per
re | { ‘ a .

Nest oF Montacue’s Harrier (Circus cineraceus),

212 Pictures of Bird Life

and to wade deep. For, with a long experience in wading
in various out-of-the-way parts of the world, I must say that
wading in the Broads is about the trickiest of any. Many a
time, while wading with a good firm bottom in about three feet
of water, [ have suddenly, and without the slightest warning,
gone plump through a deep hole in the floor, so to say,
up to my shoulders, and then have been unable to touch
the bottom. For this reason it is necessary to carry an
oar, or a ‘ quant” (as a punt-pole is called in the Broads).
The edges of these holes are luckily firm, and, with the
help of an oar, you can get your knee over and_ struggle
up again; but they are exceedingly dangerous.

A “quant” is also a most useful tool with which to
poke about among the reeds and sedge, and in searching
for Bearded Tits’ and Reed-warblers’ nests it is almost
indispensable. By parting the reeds in front of you as you
advance slowly, and as quietly as possible, you can see the
nests of the latter suspended between the reed-stems; and
for the former you can hear the rustle of the bird as it
silently slips off its nest and creeps through the thick
growth. Then you know exactly where to look for the
nest, and will probably find it a few feet in front of you
among the confused tangle of dead vegetation, where other-
wise it would most probably escape observation altogether.
For its construction is of the roughest, as far as the outside
appearance. © The inside, however, is beautifully lined with
the flower of the reed—the “ fane.” as the marshmen call

it—and sometimes a feather or two.

*‘(snuryifi29v oisf7) IMQ GaIuNVvaA-LUOHS
ALG 1S F S

214. Pictures of Bird Life

All the nests I have seen have been in a sedge-bush-
zc. a thick, tangled mass of sedge, which cuts like a knife.
I have never seen one among reeds proper; they are
generally on the edge of a little pool, and within a foot
of the water. Only one has been found over dry land, and
this was but a few feet from a pathway leading to a boat-
house, and contained young.

The nestlings have the most extraordinary palates I
ever saw. When they open their mouths—as all young
birds do when any one approaches them—they may be seen
to be most brilliantly coloured and spotted,—far more so
than any other with which I am acquainted.

The parent-birds, after the young are hatched, are
particularly bold and tame, taking very little notice of
anybody watching them. It was, in fact, a matter of some
difficulty to keep them off the nest when I wanted to photo-
graph them on the surrounding reeds. Though standing
but a yard or two away, I have had to quite drive them
out of it.

Nearly the whole of one day was spent squatting in the
same clump of sedge in which was a nest of six eggs.
Here most of the sitting was done by the cock. It was
most interesting to watch these charming little birds hunting
round a small reed-encircled pool for insects, and to see
their graceful postures and elegant movements. Their
coloration matches admirably the localities in which they
delight, and in which alone they are to be seen. The

musical note, * Ching-ching,” just like a sharply struck banjo-

‘(snurgigi99v O1Sf7) IMQ GAAVA-LUOHS 4O ISaN

216 Pictures of Bird Life

string, is quite unique and characteristic, and, once heard,
can never be mistaken. The eggs are very faintly streaked
with fine lines instead of spots, and are thus different in
appearance from the eggs of the other Tits.

These birds have suffered so much from the marshmen, in
the interest of collectors and dealers, that it is to be hoped
they will be accorded a more effectual protection in the
near future, before they are quite wiped out. (I wonder
how many clutches have been taken by Joshua Nudd alone !)
The present laws are a complete failure, simply because
nobody takes the slightest notice of them. ‘The area over
which the Bearded Tit is to be found is so restricted that
the species is in imminent danger of speedy extinction.
The wonder is, not that there are so few left, but that
there are any at all, considering how unmercifully the eggs
have been taken, and how perfectly easy it is for anybody
to shoot them.

But the Harriers are in a much worse plight than the
Bearded Tits. The Hen-harrier has quite gone, none having
nested now for many years; the Marsh-harrier has almost
gone (the last nest was in 1899, but both birds were
trapped): Montague’s Harrier still lingers, and on rare
occasions a brood of young are hatched, but seldom reach
maturity: and in a few years this fine species will be
numbered with those of other days, and no more will the
sight of it quartering the marsh delight the bird-lover.

It was therefore a great pleasure to be able to photo-

graph a nest of four eggs, though the pleasure was discounted

The Norfolk Broads 217

HEAD OF DEAD SHORT-EARED Owl. FAaciALt Disk LIFTED TO SHOW TRUE Ear.

by the knowledge that the nest was a deserted one. The
situation was a small open space on the ground in_ the
midst of a perfect sea of sedge the height of a man. Such
a nest in such a spot can only be found by the most
patient watching of the old birds. Not far away we picked
up some half-devoured remains of a leveret, for which,
I fear, the Harriers were responsible.

This day was a memorable one, for we had that same
morning photographed a nest of another rarity-—that of a
Short-eared Owl. This was also among sedge and rushes,
the mowing of which had disturbed the sitting bird from
her six eggs, causing her to desert them. Though a circle
had been left uncut all round her, she never returned
to them.

218 Pictures of Bird Life

This Owl is known as the Marsh-owl in this district, and
often elsewhere as the Woodcock-owl. It is a migratory
species, arriving from Scandinavia about the same time as
the Woodcock. But in suitable localities, such as this, it
nests in small numbers. It is much more diurnal in its
habits than any of our other owls: and instead of nesting in
hollow trees and ruins, always does so on the ground among
sedge or heather. Though comparatively scarce as a general
rule, whenever any part of the country is devastated by
a plague of voles, then these Owls, with the wonderful
instinct of most birds in discovering any unusual abundance
of food, flock to the affected spot in great numbers, and
remain there as long as the supply of food is sufficient
for them, when they disappear as mysteriously as they
arrived.

The so-called “ears” of the Short-eared Owl and the
Long-eared Owl are, of course, not “ears” at all, being
merely tufts of feathers, in no way connected with the
organ of hearing. ‘The true ear is an immense and com-
plicated cavity, occupying nearly the whole side of the
head, and concealed by the short feathers of the facial disk.
The illustration shows the ear-cavity of a Short-eared Owl,
taken, of course, from a dead specimen. By lifting up the
movable mask, or facial disk, and pining it back, the
large extent of the true organs of hearing may be plainly
seen. This bird is a_ particularly silent one. Beyond a
hissing and a clapping or snapping of the beak, it appears

to make no sound whatever.

The Norfolk Broads 219

Large numbers
of these Owls are
taken in the flight-
nets of the Lin-
eolnshire and Nor-
folk coasts on their
arrival in this

country. I once

saw one come over

in the early morn-
ing mobbed by a
lot of Rooks.

The _ fir-woods.
are inhabited by
the Long-eared
Owl, which nests
very early in the
year in old squir-
rels’ nests -and
W ood - pigeons’
nests —- sometimes.
enon, “the
ground, but this is
exceptional.

Daily we saw
a Shoveller-duck,

rk yam. which must have

been breeding
LonG-EARED Owe (Asio otus).

220 Pictures of Bird Life

somewhere not far from our anchorage; but no amount of
searching enabled us to discover its nest. Every morning
and evening we could see a Great Crested Grebe, accom-
panied by its single young one, and many a time watched
the mother Grebe bring up a small eel, and, after banging
and shaking it about, present it to the young: bird.

In these days of extermination, it is a relief to turn to
one bird which is increasing in numbers and extending its
range, as
seems really
to be the
case with
the Great
Crested
Grebe. On
some of the
Broads in
Norfolk,

especially

Rene eee (Acrocephalus streperus) SITTING. where indis-
criminate shooting is not allowed, it is quite abundant, and
in many parts it is becoming established where formerly
it was not known. <A pair of these most stately water-
birds have these last few years nested in the Penn Ponds in
Richmond Park, and appear to have laid aside some of
their usual timidity.

The Tufted Duck is another bird which seems to be on

the increase. The chief stronghold of this expert diver

Nest or REED-WARBLER (Acrocephalus streperus).

222 Pictures of Bird Life

seems to be in Northamptonshire, but it nests in the south
of Norfolk with the Pochard, Shoveller, Teal, Gargeney,
Wild Duck, and Gadwall.

At the time of our visit—May—the reeds in every
direction were alive with young Coots and Water-hens, and
their curious cries were incessant. That of the young
Water-hens sounds just like ‘ Joey-joey.” We were also,
I think, late for Water-rails, and also for Redshanks and
Lapwings, both of which had_half-
grown young ones.

Of smaller birds, the Reed-warblers
had hardly begun to nest. They are
always late, appearing to wait until
the reeds have grown up to a fair
height. June and July are more likely
months for their nests, and I have
found fresh eggs in August. ‘The nests

are very easy to find. and are generally

ES ee ee over water, but occasionally on dry
ground, among meadow-sweet, and
even in lilac and willow. The unique method of suspension
between upright stems makes them very interesting objects.
In Norfolk they are made of dry grasses, lined with reed-
flower: but in Canvey Island, where there are sheep, the
nests are made almost entirely of wool, in which the greenish
eges look very pretty indeed.
Perhaps the commonest bird is the Reed-bunting—locally

‘alled the Blackeap. Its short and somewhat monotonous

The Norfolk Broads 223

song is constantly to be heard in every direction; and the
black-headed male bird, flirting its white tail-feathers while
clinging to the dried and yellow reed-stems, is a very
common sight in all the drier parts of the marsh and on
the reed-ronds.

Many Sedge-warblers, Yellow Wagtails, Meadow-pipits,
Winchats, and other common birds, all add by their
presence to the beauty and interest of the scene.

The botanist, too, may find many rare plants peculiar
to the district, and the entomologist comes to capture
rare and beautiful insects procurable nowhere else. The
sight of that splendid butterfly the swallow-tail, flying
in hundreds from flower to flower, is alone worth the
journey to see, especially as, with the exception of one
small fen in Cambridgeshire, the sight can be enjoyed

nowhere else in England.

OysTER-CATCHER (Hamatopus ostralegus).

CHAPTER Viti
Bird Life in Dutch Marshes

They are all gone now; no longer do the Ruffs trample the sedge into a hard

floor in their fighting-rings, while the sober Reeves stand round, admiring the
tournament of their lovers, gay with ears and tippets, no two of them alike. Gone
are Ruffs and Reeves, Spoonbills, Bitterns, Avosets.
Tuus Kingsley wrote in his eloquent lament over the disap-
pearance of the old fen country and its wild inhabitants
and their picturesque associations. And gone they truly are
as regular and common visitors.

But fortunately the memory of places seems to linger
strangely in the minds of birds. They are very reluctant to
forsake altogether any locality frequented by them through
many generations; and for years they or their descendants,
impelled by we know not what inherited instinct or ghost
of a memory, will revisit the once-familiar spots, in spite of
persecution, and in spite of sadly altered circumstances.

Of the Lincolnshire fen country barely a trace remains,
to such an extent has it been drained and cultivated, growing
roots and corn where formerly the ‘Coot clanked and the
Bittern boomed, and the Sedge-bird, not content with its
own sweet song, mocked the notes of all the birds around ;

while high overhead hung motionless Hawk beyond Hawk,

224

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes

Wuite Stork (Ciconia alba) on Nest.

ede 5

hal baal

Buzzard beyond Buz-
zard, Kite beyond Kite,
as far as the eye could
Secu

In Norfolk the fen
fauna is making a last
stand, much as the
English did after the
Conquest in the old Ely
fen, and, like them, they
are year by year dwin-
dling down and_ being
overwhelmed by a new
order of things ; so that
the ornithologist desirous
of observing their habits,
being unable to find
them with any degree of
certainty, is compelled
to cross the North Sea
and follow them to their
haunts in Danish
marshes, and in the
aameers, and -“polders ”
of Holland, while there
is yet time. Even there
the greed of mankind is
pressing heavily on them,

226 Pictures of Bird Life

so much so that it is only a question of time —a few
more years —and they will have to be followed still farther
afield. to countries where they can find more free and

unoccupied space and less human

persecution.

Holland is the nearest and
most easily accessible, and it was
there that I first experienced the
delights of working in a_ fresh
country, where birds which had
hitherto only been seen in books
and museums were to be met
with at home, full of living grace
and beauty.

Leaving London at eight in

Se the evening by the comfortable

YounG Great REED-WARBLER Hook of Holland route, vd
(Acrocephalus turdoides). b '

Harwich, one finds oneself on

Dutch soil about five o'clock the next morning, almost.

without knowing that there has been any sea passage at all.

Then about four hours’ journey brings one to the house
of a Dutch friend, to whom I am indebted for my first.
introduction to a large fresh-water ‘ meer,” inhabited by
many of the birds whose extinction and diminution we
have just been deploring in England.

The exact locality of this place I prefer to keep to myself,
for there are now but two localities in the whole of North-

western Europe where the Spoonbill still nests, and this is.

rs acd hit
Ca tai

GREAT REED-WARBLER (Acrocephalus turdoides) AND Nest.

YouNG SpoonBiLis (Flatulea leucorodta),

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 229

one of them. I am indeed bound by promise as well as
by inclination not to reveal the place to any one, or in any
way to endanger the retreat of these fine birds.

A few years ago a colony of them used to frequent
another marsh in the neighbourhood, which was subsequently
drained, and is now cultivated land. They then betook
themselves to their present resort, and in a few years this
was also drained. Fortunately, however, the expense of
pumping exceeded the value of the recovered land, which
was indeed almost worthless, and after several thousand
pounds had been spent the place was allowed to revert
into its original state, and the Spoonbills and other feathered
inhabitants returned to find shelter and safety once more in
the reed-beds of this most interesting ‘ meer.”

It is indeed a most charming place for an ornithologist—
full of lasting interest and delight, where he can revel in
the sight of many banished birds nesting in large numbers
undisturbed and unmolested. Three visits made to this spot
have each been more enjoyable than the one before, and I
hope to be able to revisit at some future day the scenes
of so much pleasure.

The birds are not by any means the only inhabitants of
this place. It is full of fish. Immense pike, great, fat,
slimy tench, red-finned roach, and eels abound in its deep
waters, and constitute a source of profit to the lessee, who
employs a fisherman to protect his rights, and to net and
bring to market his captures.

The fish are caught mostly in drum-nets placed in

YounG Spoonsitt (Platalea leucorodia).

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 231

narrow channels cut in the reeds, and as soon as caught
they are all placed in a stew-pond at the back of the
keeper's house. It is a sight, on the eve of market day, to
see this stew emptied by means of an immense net raised
by the united efforts of four or five stout Dutchmen. As
it nears the surface, it is seen to contain a solid mass of
fish struggling and kicking. Then they are picked out by
large landing-nets, and placed in various receptacles according
to kind.

The first bird to be seen, as one leaves the keeper’s
cottage for the “ meer” in a flat-bottomed punt, is probably <
Black Tern, sitting on one of the stakes of the drum-nets,
or skimming over the surface of the water after dragon-flies.
This bird takes the place of the Swallows, which are scarce,
and, so they say, decreasing in numbers every year. Then
as one progresses Coots are heard, plunging and clanking
amid the reeds on each side, and presently a brown bird
about the size of a Thrush darts across and dives into the
thickest part of the reeds. ‘This is about all one sees of
the Great Reed-warbler, though its harsh, grating song
may be heard in every direction. By standing still and
motionless, you may see the bird, as it sings, gradually
mounting the upright reed-stem until it reaches the top: but
at the slightest movement it will drop into the thick under-
growth, still singing, though invisible. It is a great skulker.

The song is unmistakable, when once heard, and sounds
like * Kara-kara-karra,” ete., from which the Dutch name

* Karakeite” is derived. Groote Karakeite and Kleine Kara-

232 Pictures of Bird Life

keite serve respectively for the Great Reed-warbler and the
smaller species.

The nests are suspended between the upright reed-stems
in exactly the same fashion as those of our Reed-warbler,
but are of course much larger. A nest in my possession
measures 24 inches across the hollow, and 5 inches deep
outside, against 15 and 4 inches respectively. In the deep
hollow, lined with the flower of the reed, the four eggs look
very handsome, being very boldly spotted and marked with
rich purplish spots at the larger end. The birds are very
common, and the last time I was there we saw hundreds
of their nests.

It is very curious that this bird, so common in Holland
and North France, only separated from our coast by a narrow
twenty miles of sea, should be so exceedingly rare with
us. Barely half-a-dozen cases are known of the bird being
seen in England, and I believe that there is not one
authenticated instance of its having nested.

However, the Spoonbills are the chief objects of interest,
and we push on for their haunts in the far corner of the
“meer,” passing many interesting sights, but stopping for
nothing.

A Great Crested Grebe, accompanied by a single young
one, passes ahead of us, and is soon lost to sight; Coots and
Ducks get up on each side; and we pull past the edge of
a large colony of Black-headed Gulls, whose harsh screams
accompany us until they consider we are off their particular

domain, when they leave us and return to their nests.

NeEsT OF SPOONBILL (Platalea leucorodia).

234 Pictures of Bird Life

PurRPLE Heron (Ardea purpurea), AUTOMATICALLY PHOTOGRAPHED BY THE

BIRD ITSELF TREADING ON AN ELeEctric TRAP CONNECTED WITH HIDDEN
CAMERA.

Presently the rismg of several Spoonbills from the reeds
shows that their nesting-place is not far away; and as the
punt leaves the channel. and is forced through the thick reed-
bed, Spoonbills are getting up all around us in every direction.
Presently, after much exertion, the first nest becomes visible
through the reeds.

On a large and bulky platform of sticks and dead reeds
we can make out three nearly fledged young birds standing
up. Unfortunately, however, the noise necessarily made in
forcing our clumsy craft along has alarmed them so much
that two out of the three, after hesitating on the brink,

scramble out, and, plunging through the water, finally dis-

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 235

appear. Several others from neighbouring nests do the
same, but eventually we find one nest whose occupants are
not quite so fully developed.

The scene is a most striking one. On the rude platform
of sere and yellow stalks are two young Spoonbills, whose

snow-white plumage in the bright sunshine is in_ strong

YounGc PurpLe Herons 1n NEsT.

contrast to the green background. Their legs look swollen
and rather limp, and one of them prefers to squat, as if
its legs were hardly equal to supporting its heavy body.
The other stands tottering on the edge, desiring to see the
last of our company and wishing to depart.

Finding them, however, is one thing, but photographing

them is not quite so easy as we expected. ‘The punt is

236 Pictures of Bird Life

too narrow and too unstable for the tripod, which has to be
put overboard into deep water with a soft muddy bottom.
At last, after many struggles, and nearly falling headfirst out
of the punt in the act of focussing, the exposure is made.
This first attempt, however, proves conclusively that wading-
trousers are an absolute necessity for this marsh work,
and my second and other visits found me better provided
in this respect: I could then accompany the camera over-
board into nearly five feet of water, and if necessary remain
hidden up for hours while waiting for the return of the
old birds.

An attempt to photograph the old birds on this occasion
was a failure, as was also another more determined one
the following year in the south of Spain, where, though
I could see a dozen Spoonbills all round my _ hiding-place,
the intervening reeds made any photograph of them
impracticable.

On a second visit to this same Dutch locality the Spoon-
bills had been disturbed by poachers, who had taken a
number of their eggs, and in consequence, while the birds
which had escaped molestation had half-grown young, many
others were still sitting on eggs. The curious part of it
was that the clutches were unusually large. especially for
second layings; in one nest were six eggs, and in another
seven.

At one of these nests I hid up with a camera, over waist-
deep in water, and covered over with reeds, for five hours.

For nearly the whole of this time the Spoonbills were

‘(vainding vapipy) NOMA, ATAYAg AO LSAIN

BA:

238 Pictures of Bird Life

circling round and round my ambush, sometimes looking
as if they meant to alight, until by degrees they dropped
down to their nests hidden in the reeds. At last I heard
a tremendous flapping, and, on looking out of my peep-
hole, had the gratification of seeing one of these mag-
nificent birds alighting on its nest, not seven yards away.
As bad luck would have it, I had left one reed between
us, and a leaf of this dangled in front of the bird, and
I had to wait, watching the unusual sight for several
minutes, until it departed. Then I crept out of my
ambush and cut down the offending reed, and retired again
under cover. It was not long before it returned: and while
on the point of making the exposure its mate alighted also
on the nest, and I had the pair of them in full view,
standing up just in front of me. I was able to expose two
plates without disturbing them, and naturally thought that
success had at last been achieved. However, on developing
them, after my return home, both plates, from which I had
expected so much, were hopelessly fogged and quite useless—
a typical example of the uncertainty of photographic work
among: birds.

Four years later, in 1901, I was more fortunate, and
succeeded in obtaining several photographs of these interesting
and beautiful birds with their half-grown young ones. ‘They
are peculiarly silent: only once have I heard them utter a
low sort of croaking noise whilst flying round me. They fly
with their neck outstretched in front and their legs behind,

and look very white against the blue sky. The budding

‘(SNSOULSNAM SNIAL)) MATAAVH-HSUVI JO ISAN

240 Pictures of Bird Life

primaries of the young birds, while in the nest, are of a jetty
blackness, and the beaks at the same age are flesh-coloured.

I have always found, in close proximity to the nesting-place
of Spoonbills, whether in Holland or Spain, nests also of the
Purple Heron. At times these nests are exceedingly difficult

to approach, though now and then one may meet with them

Nesr oF Brack TERN (/ydrochelidon nigra).

on fairly solid ground, but always well surrounded and hidden
by a thick growth of tall reeds. In such places, where they
can find the solitude and quietness they desire, they lay five
beautiful pale blue eggs on a rough nest of dead reeds and
sedge. The birds are particularly and excessively shy and

retiring. At one nest, which held three freshly hatched birds

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 241

not an hour old, and two eggs where the young chicks had the
tips of their beaks through the shell and were vigorously
clamouring to be let out, I waited hidden the whole day in the
hope of a photograph. But no; the parent birds obstinately
refused to return, though it was impossible for them to see me.
One Purple Heron, probably one of the pair to which the nest
belonged, alighted not five yards away from me, a little to one
side of the nest on which the camera was focussed. But so
suspiciously did the bird watch my hiding-place that it was
impossible for me to turn the camera in its direction, and I
could only watch it myself. Just in front of it, in a great state
of excitement, was a Reed-warbler vigorously scolding the
great long-legged Heron, and plainly betraying the nearness of
its own nest, which, sure enough, I afterwards found close at
hand with four eggs. If this Purple Heron had not been seen
alighting, it is very doubtful whether it would have been
recognised as a bird at all. The long, thin reddish-coloured
neck and head exactly resembled a reed-stem, while the
yellow beak looked like a dead leaf.

The smell round all the nests of Herons and Spoonbills is
very strong and unpleasant, rivalling in evil odours a nesting-
place of Cormorants. One colony of Purple Herons was
strewn about with small perch in a state of decay, and the
stench was horrible.

In this “meer” the Common Herons also habitually nest
among the reeds exactly in the same way as the Purple
Herons. They are generally located in a far-away corner,
where the growth of reeds is thickest and the depth of

24.2 Pictures of Bird Life

water greatest. The bottom is so soft and treacherous
that six attempts to photograph the young birds in’ their
nest utterly failed. Kvery moment I expected to dis-
appear from sight, camera and all. In the water around
these nests were floating numbers of small roach, and others
were lying on the nests rotting in the sun, putrid and fly-
blown, each one contributing its share to the usual perfume
of a heronry. A strong stomach and plenty of enthusiasm are
wanted for this work. Besides the strong smell from the nests,
each step in the deep stagnant water and each prod with the
punt-pole stirs up bubbles of evil-smelling gas evolved from
the rotting vegetation, and after a prolonged stay in such
unsavoury quarters one’s clothes become saturated with evil
odours.

On one occasion all the nests of some Purple Herons
appeared to be empty when, after some struggling, I had
reached the spot, though standing up in the punt we had seen
young birds in every nest. After a lot of hunting about in
vain, it occurred to me to look under the nests, which, for a
wonder, were built on dry ground, or at any rate comparatively
dry for Purple Herons. There in a space of a few inches
between the nests and the ground all the young Herons were
crouching motionless, hoping, no doubt, that the enemy would
depart without detecting them. One luckless individual had
allowed me to tread on it sooner than move, and on retracing
my steps to return to the punt its body was found crushed by
my heavy nailed brogues.

The colouring of these nestling Purple Herons is very

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 243

striking. Their reddish plumage shows off the yellow eyes
and beak, green legs, and bright blue primary quills, so that

three or four

of these _ bi-
zarre - looking
young birds
standing in
their nest
make a most
effective pic-
Gunes, | The

adult) birds

are a trifle
smaller than
the Common
Herons, and
look darker in
colour.

It was a
common. sight
in our progress

in the punt

3Lack Tern (Hydrochelidon nigra).

along the canal-
like channels cut in the reeds to see these birds, disturbed by

our presence, rising from the reeds with flapping wings and

244 Pictures of Bird Life

drooping legs, and to surprise them on their way home. On
seeing us they would pull up in their flight, and sheer off in
another direction with much convulsive and laborious energy.
At their nests they are very noisy, making the most extra-
ordinary grunting and groaning.

The difficulty in photographing these wary birds, so striking
in their appearance and so interesting in their habits, and the
picturesque nature of their haunts, only made me more anxious
to make another attempt on different lines.

Accordingly, in 1901, a special expedition to the same place
was made in order to photograph the Spoonbills and Purple
Herons by means of an automatic electric trap arrangement,
which had been devised for their especial benefit. The idea
was that, by placing this arrangement on the nest, the bird, on
its return, would, by treading on it, depress the lever of an
electric switch, and so put the current of a dry battery in
action, which would operate a shutter worked by an electro-
magnet on a concealed camera. By this plan there would
not be so much to alarm the birds, so quick to detect the
presence of any hidden photographer, who would be free to
work in another direction with a spare camera. However, on
arrival at the colony of Spoonbills’ nests, it was at once evident
that this plan was impracticable for them : for the young birds
were more than half grown, and ceaselessly wandered up and
down their nest, and would inevitably have sprung the trap
long before the parent birds returned. A modification of the
plan had to be adopted, and a string was fixed to the switch

to be pulled from a hiding-place in the reeds a little distance

‘(opunuy puss) NXT, NOWWOD

246 Pictures of Bird Life

away. However, the adult Spoonbills came so much more
readily than ever before that this was given up as unnecessary,
and many exposures were made from a distance of only about
five yards,

Here, sitting in the water and covered over with reeds
for several hours, the unusual treat was enjoyed of watching
both the parent Spoonbills accompanied by their half-grown
young ones. «As soon as the old birds had settled, after much
flapping of great white wings, the young birds would tease
them for food, uttering a whining, chipping noise, until the
parent would open its curious beak, and allow the young birds
to insert their beaks as far as the crop and feed like young
pigeons. This I watched repeatedly.

Another very noticeable fact was that the orange mark on
the throat, described simply in the Manual of British Birds
as “gular region orange,” gave them exactly the appearance
of having had their throats cut; for the colour is just that
of dried blood, and the shape and position resemble a gash
with a knife across the throat.

After leaving them, the trap was set at a Purple Heron's
nest not far off, which held four eggs. But the water was
deep, and the difficulty in hiding the camera very great.
After wasting half a day, we failed to score any success ; and,
to make it worse, my large sheath-knife fell out into five feet
of water, and I failed to recover it. That made the second
knife lost in the depths of this **meer.” A pair of spectacles
was also dropped, but these I fished up again: and a box

full of exposed plates also fell overboard—these. of course,

“LSAN NV (Snpungipia siwT) TINH aadvaH-yOVvIg

VA aay

ZELLY

248 Pictures of Bird Life

were not worth any attempt at recovery, as the water would
have utterly spoilt them.

After this another nest was found better situated for our
purpose, where the camera could be effectually hidden on
a heap of piled-up reeds level with the water and covered
over with wet sedge and rubbish. ‘The nest being made of
reeds, a dry reed-stem was used as the lever of the switch,
and was placed across the nest. After leaving this for a
few hours, we were delighted to find, on our first visit to it,
that the bird had returned and had sprung the shutter.

The first impression was that, instead of the Heron
herself being recorded on the plate, we had succeeded in
photographing a Marsh-harrier in the act of stealing eggs ;
for we had left four eggs in the nest, and found but three,
while the reed-stem serving as a switch was broken short
off, and the nest itself smeared with blood. In connection
with these marks of disorder, the sight of a Marsh-harrier
rising from the reeds as we approached appeared to be
rather suspicious. Further investigation, however, showed
us that the Heron herself must have broken the reed and
her own egg at the same time, for we found it eventually
in the water below the nest. The plate, too, on develop-
ment, showed the Purple Heron in the act of stepping on
to her nest in a most typical and characteristic attitude,
the reed-stem plainly visible under one uplifted foot.

Two other exposures were subsequently made by this
same bird, to my great satisfaction, as proving that for

particularly shy birds this method is really practicable in

Nest or Great Crestep GREBE (Podiceps cristatus).

250 Pictures of Bird Life

obtaining photographs, while they are perfectly unconscious

of any danger. Hiding the camera successfully is the chief

WuitEe STORK AND YounG (Ciconia alba).

difficulty. If
this can be
done at the
nest of any
bird, it is al-
most 4a cer-
tainty ; but if
its suspicions
are aroused by
any very un-
usual appear-
ance, it will
probably desert
itseggs, instead
of returning to
them as usual.

We had
proof of this,
unfortunately ;
for a whole day
was given to
the nest of a

Marsh - harrier,

where the mistake was made of attempting to hide the

camera on its tripod by covering it with reeds, instead of

ylacing it on a heap of reeds and then covering it. over.
} g ] g

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 251

The bird, though its four eggs
were hard sat on, deserted sooner
than approach such a suspicious-
looking object, and they were
eventually sucked by Crows.

It was a great treat to be
able to watch the fine flight of
these Harriers, as they soared in
great circles, hardly seeming to

move their broad wings, while

they sailed round against the blue
a. sky. Every now. and then they
would settle on some low bushes near their nest, which was
situated on a dry part of the marsh, and placed on a small
mound amid the sedge. The nest itself was carefully made
of sedge. This failure was a great disappointment; but had
the camera been hidden as at the
Purple Heron’s nest, I am confident
that a successful photograph would
have been obtained. There would
have been a better chance, perhaps,
if the eggs had been hatched and
the young birds waiting to be fed.

This is the only Harrier’s nest
I have seen here, though in former
years an odd bird or two have been

observed. From the train window.

in 1897, I watched one flying over STORK KLAPPERING.

252 Pictures of Bird Life

the “meer” in’ which I had worked for a whole week
without seeing one. On my first visit two, I think, were
noticed in the immediate neighbourhood, One of these was
quartering over some meadows, which were being mown
on the look out, probably, for Godwit’s eggs, or else young
Godwits, laid bare by the mowers. At any rate, several
Godwits were flying in an excited and alarmed state. One
of them I noticed perching on a gate-post, as a Redshank
will sometimes do in similar circumstances. Doubtless the
Marsh-harrier would nest much more often in a place so
suitable for its habits; but too many Harriers would prob-
ably mean too few Ducks—at any rate, that is the opinion
of the old keeper, who, I understood, had killed no less
than seventeen in one season. Under the circumstances their
comparative scarcity is easily accounted for.

Though Coots and Wild Ducks are to be met with in
numbers indiscriminately all over the * meer,” the other birds
breeding there keep very much to the neighbourhood of the
particular part selected by them, any intrusion into which
causes a great commotion and excitement. The Spoonbills
and Herons fly off at once, and when sitting hard leave
their nests with some reluctance; but the Gulls and ‘Terns,
with harsh cries and angry protests, flock round the tres-
passer as soon as he approaches their nesting-place : nor do
they cease their scolding for a moment as long as he remains.
He is made to understand unmistakably that he has no
business there, and that his presence is deeply resented.

I have been sometimes fairly mobbed by Black Terns in

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 253

their angry excitement at my presence so near their freshly
hatched young. Sometimes their nests are substantially
built in shallow water, similar to those seen in the
south of Spain. But in the deeper waters which generally

prevail they adopt other methods, and lay their very

dark, pointed eggs, without any attempt at a nest, on

Nest or Avocet (Recurvircstra avocetta).

the floating masses of reed-stems, scum, and rubbish of
all kinds which accumulates, and gradually forms a kind
of floating island, in which seeds of various marsh plants
and flowers spring up and grow luxuriantly. In_ such
places perhaps a dozen nests may be seen, sometimes

alone, but often in company with Common ‘Terns. <At

254 Pictures of Bird Life

other times they will lay on the heaps of cut reeds at the
edges of the channels.

On returning to their nests, which they will do when
sitting while you are watching them from a very short
distance, they have a pretty way of remaining for a second
or two with their fully expanded wings in an upright
position before finally closing them. In this attitude they
have a particularly dainty and fascinating appearance. They
appear to feed their young on dragon-flies, which naturally,
in such an expanse of marsh, are exceedingly abundant.

Black Terns are regular Marsh-terns, and nest habitually
in fresh-water situations; but I must say I was surprised
to find the Common ‘Tern breeding in such a locality,
looking upon it as a maritime species. It seems, however,
that this Tern, while nesting in many places round our
coasts, and on islands off the coast, is also addicted in
some parts to nesting on the shores of fresh-water lochs ;
and this appears to be its more usual habit in Ireland,
where it is common. On the island of Texel I have seen
their nests on short turf in company with Oyster-catchers. I
have even fancied that their eggs in such a place are more
inclined to a greenish coloration than when laid on shingle.

While waiting to photograph a Common Tern at the
extremity of a long floating island, a Redshank pitched close
to the nest. Although engaged in changing a plate at the
moment, I managed to get it in in time to make an
exposure ; but before it was possible to repeat it, the Tern

flew up and hustled the Redshank away.

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 255

Avocet (Recurvirostra avocetta) FEEDING.

The young Black Terns are adepts at paddling along
the surface of the water, when disturbed, in the endeavour
to escape. They are clad in down of a rich mottled
chocolate colour, and the bare patch of skin round the
eyes is pale blue. The young of the Common Tern are
also difficult to photograph for the same reason : they
are most persistent in their attempts to swim away from
any intruder. Very much larger than the Black Terns, and
of a dirty yellow mottled colour; they very much resemble
young Black-headed Gulls in general appearance.

A colony of Black-headed Gulls is a most interesting
and picturesque sight. The birds themselves are perfect
pictures of grace and beauty. Their black, or rather dark
brown, hoods, red legs and feet, and snowy plumage, with
jet-black primaries, are in such striking contrast, and their
easy and buoyant flight is a treat to behold, as the birds

float past and poise overhead, each one scolding its hardest.

256 Pictures of Bird Life

Their chosen retreat, too, is perhaps the prettiest bit of
the whole “meer.” Their nests are placed in an open space
surrounded by reeds, and spangled with the floating leaves
and white flowers of the water-lily, rivalling their own spot-
less plumage in purity and beauty. ‘Though the water is
deep—quite three or four feet—the nests are solid structures
of reeds, apparently built up from the bottom. In a small
hollow in the top the three olive-brown eggs lie on a
lining of smaller and finer material. Other nests are made
on the edge of a small island, and many are hidden from
sight in the midst of the surrounding reeds.

On a long heap or stack of cut-down reed-bundles rows
of the Gulls may be seen perching, and there are generally
two or three preening themselves on the top of a notice-
board close to their nesting-place. They may be seen
hunting for food over the luxuriant meadows which sur-
round the “meer,” and searching the dykes and ditches.

Coots are exceedingly numerous ; but, curiously enough,
the Water-hen seems to be quite a scarce bird in Holland,
where one would naturally expect it to abound. The country
seems to be made on purpose for it, and yet I do not
remember ever seeing more than one.

On my last visit I had the pleasure of listening daily
to the “boom” of a Bittern; and a weird sound it is—
certainly not what anybody would connect in any way with
a bird. The Dutch name, * Roer-dump.” expresses the
sound very well. The first part resembles a big indrawn

sigh, and the second a hollow “dump.” The keeper

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 257

declared that the bird did not nest there, which I doubt ;
but in June the young birds would have probably flown.
I should think the Bittern would be very difficult to locate
from its “boom,” which appears to have a ventriloquial
effect.

The Bearded Tit seems to be only a rare winter visitor.
Nor could I hear anything of the Short-eared Owl.

A Magpie was nesting in a poplar just opposite the
keeper's cottage.

The Great Crested Grebe is fairly common, and I fancy
the pike must take toll of the young ones. I have never
seen more than one young bird following the parent. The
keeper talks of another Grebe, or “ Loem,” breeding here—
probably the Eared Grebe. We saw in the distance one
day a Grebe, not a Great Crested, and too big for a Little
Grebe: but I could not understand what he said about it,
and it was too far off to make it out.

The reeling note of the Grasshopper-warbler may be
constantly heard. It is known here as the ‘ Schneider,”
which means, I presume, “Tailor.” If this is because of
the resemblance of its note to a sewing-machine, it would
seem to point to the bird’s comparatively recent occurrence.

The Stork, though popularly supposed to be a welcome
guest in every Dutch village, if not in every house, is not
by any means so widely distributed, and it is quite possible
to travel a very long way and never see a sign of one.

In the beautiful and extensive grounds of the gentleman
before mentioned, there is a nest on the top of the usual

258 Pictures of Bird Life

pole erected on their behalf; but he has improved on the
cart-wheel ordinarily placed in position on the top through-
out Holland, by haying made an iron cage arrangement to
receive and hold the sticks of which the great nest is com-
posed. This is within sight of -4s—lbrary window, looking
across the corner of the garden and carriage-drive, and from
his easy-chair he can watch their movements, and see the
parent Storks standing in their contemplative attitude at
the edge of the nest, or watch them arriving with food
for their young ones. <After the young are hatched, they
never appear to be left unguarded, but one or other of the
old birds stands sentry until relieved by the arrival of its
mate. Then it will spread its wide black wings and launch
itself into the air from its lofty perch. Any strange Stork
passing over, even though so high in the air as to be well-
nigh invisible, is always watched with every sign of alarm
and suspicion by the sentry; while the approach of its mate
is greeted with * klappering,” that mode of language peculiar
to the Stork family. The nest is gained by a gradual rise
after skimming low down close to the ground; and when
it is finally reached by the returning bird, the sight of the
meeting between the pair is most grotesque. Each bird
politely bows to its partner, and then, throwing back their
great red beaks until they rest on their backs, they each
*klapper” vigorously.

To see them, one would suppose they were congratulating
themselves on meeting once more after a long and_ perilous

journey. In reality, the journey has been to the distance

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 259

of some adjoining meadow in search of frogs. Their power
of flight is superb, and it is a fine sight to see half-a-
dozen Storks soaring easily upwards till lost to sight among
the clouds.

There are two other Storks’ nests not far away—one at
my friend’s old house, where he lived up to three years
ago, and one in the grounds of his father-in-law. The only
other nest I know of was to be seen a few years ago from
the railway near The Hague; but I have missed it lately,
though I have looked for it when passing.

In the tall trees at one end of the meadow, and quite
close to the house, is a heronry, and from my bedroom
window in the early morning I could listen to the extra-
ordinary noises made by the birds when feeding their young.
At the side of the house is a long avenue of magnificent
lime-trees, and in the holes in these trees were many
Owls’ nests. One hole was pointed out as having held Barn-
owls for several years, and the ground below was strewn with
castings. One of these yielded the skulls of no less than
five shrew-mice, besides other bones; another one contained
the skull of a small rat. The grounds of this fine specimen
of a Dutch country house consist of eight hundred acres, and
the trees contained therein are worth a special visit. The
lime-trees in particular are exceptionally fine. Besides Barn-
owls, both the Tawny Owls and Little Owls nest near the
house. The latter, I was told, are frequently seen in the
daytime, and are very tame.

Golden Orioles were very numerous, their liquid note

260 Pictures of Bird Life

being constantly heard in the lofty tree-tops. They are
seldom seen, however; I saw but a passing glimpse of
one, and my host told me that he had only once seen a
nest. They are invariably suspended from the pendent
extremity of a topmost branch of a high tree, and in con-
sequence are seldom found, and can only be reached by
cutting off the branch.

The Icterine Warbler is another species which nests in
the garden and grounds, but I have never seen it.

Desirous of seeing some of the rarer waders, particularly
Avocets, a journey was made to a more northern locality,
where they still may be found. Though late in the season,
several Avocets’ nests were seen still with eggs. The nests
were on the caked mud of a dried-up creek, and consisted of
a few stalks such as are usually to be found in a Lapwing’s
nest, and each nest contained four eggs. These beautiful
and unique birds are perhaps the most graceful and elegant
of all the waders, and have always excited the utmost admira-
tion wherever I have met with them, whether on the sandy
creeks of the Zuyder Zee, or on the mud-flats of the tawny
Guadalquivir and the marismas below Seville, or the fjords
and marshes of West Jutland. Whether daintily tripping
over dry mud or the shining surface of tidal ooze, wading in
shallow pools, swimming, or flying, all their actions are full
of grace and beauty, and by moving quietly they are fairly
easy to approach. In fact, we were able, on the Guadal-
quivir, to run close enough to them in the electric launch

to have touched them with a boat-hook as they ran about

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 261

the mud-flats along the shore at low tide. We found them,
in this Dutch island, with the same preference for the
company of Redshanks which had been noticed in Spain.
Many Redshanks’ nests were carefully hidden in the
tufts of long grass; Godwits were also numerous, but we
were too late for eggs. By their excited demeanour they
had evidently young birds hidden in the luxuriant grass

Nest or Lesser Tern (Sterna minuta).

in the meadows, in which they breed. This grass was far
too thick and high to permit of anything like a successful
search being made for them. They are the Black-tailed
Godwits, which, at the beginning of the nineteenth century,
were accustomed to nest in the eastern counties of England.
The Bar-tailed Godwits, so common along our coasts in the

autumn and winter, do not nest anywhere south of Lapland.

262 Pictures of Bird Life

Oyster-catchers and Common ‘Terns were nesting on
the short turf, and Lesser Terns on the shingly patches,
while the little pools were inhabited by numerous Black-
headed Gulls.

The Ruffs, or rather the Reeves, were presumably
tending their young in the meadows, where they also nest,
like the Godwits, and we saw very little of them.

In this place I had the advantage of a guide who could
speak very good English, and had, besides, a knowledge
of the different birds, and where they were to be met
with. In most Dutch towns there is very little difficulty
with the language, as almost everybody with any education
speaks English perfectly well. The upper classes invariably
speak it with amazing fluency and correctness. In my three
visits to the “meer,” however, I have failed to find a soul
who could understand or speak one single word of English.
Twice have I spent a week there—once in a large farm-
house, and again at the keeper's cottage—without being
able to communicate with anybody, save by signs.

The whole of each day was spent with a young Dutch-
man, the son of the keeper, who punted me about from one
nest to another, and acted as guide among the intricate
channels of the “meer.” Here, again, all communication
was by signs, helped by a few Dutch words left by my
Dutch friends in my pocket-book when they drove me over
and made all arrangements for my stay. Above all, the
Dutch names of all the birds to be met with were pro-

vided: and with these I got on very well. especially as my

Bird Life in Dutch Marshes 263

boatman very quickly got into my ways and understood
what was wanted.

The chief difficulty at first was to make him understand,
when it was necessary for me to wait in concealment at a
nest in order to photograph the bird itself, that he was
wanted to go right away, and to stop away until he was
called, Nothing is more annoying, when engaged in_ this
work, after waiting for hours, half broiled by the sun, over
waist-deep in stagnant water, and covered over with wet
reeds, just at a critical moment, when you are expecting
the bird you have waited so long for, to hear your boatman
pottering about close to and preparing to come to you.
These are the occasions when the ignorance of the language
makes itself felt, and when you feel as if you would like
to know some of the stronger adjectives in local use in
order to do full justice to your feelings.

On one occasion he failed to come when I did want
him. ‘Though I shouted till I was hoarse, he did not appear,
and I began to wonder what had become of him. The water
was generally so deep, and the bottom so soft and uneven,
that I hardly liked being left alone; and if anything had
happened to my boatman when in such a situation, unable to
moye a yard without getting over my head, and encumbered
with a heavy camera and wading-trousers, the result might
have been decidedly unpleasant. If I stopped there for a
week, there would be no chance of anybody coming within
hail. In this case I was able, luckily, after a time to wade

in the direction in which I thought he had gone, and

264 Pictures of Bird Life

presently saw him, or rather his punt, some distance off.
Of the boatman himself the only visible sign was one leg,
with a wooden shoe on the end of it, sticking up in the air.
Shouting and yelling had no effect whatever, and doubts
came into my mind as to the cause of his silence. Was
he drunk, or in a fit, or dead? After some difficulty I
managed to wade out to him, and found him lying on his
back fast asleep in the sun. Even then he only woke up
when I tipped the punt to one side and nearly rolled him
out of it.

However, we got on very well together, and he was
invariably very obliging and_ intelligent. His people, too,
did everything in their power to make me comfortable, and
to help me in my work: and the hours I spent with him
exploring all the innermost recesses of this famous resort
of rare birds are among the most enjoyable I have ever

experienced anywhere.

CHAPTER. IX

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas

= ;
Woopncuat-surike (Lanius pomeranus).

Spatn is undoubtedly
the country which
offers most attractions
to the ornithologist at
the present day. First
of all, the country it-
self has many natural
advantages in the im-
mense range of climate
and temperature, owing
to its physical pecu-
liarities. The snow-
‘lad heights of the
sierras look down on
sunny vineyards and
olive-groves twelve
thousand feet below,

where the _ orange,

banana, and other sub-tropical fruits and plants grow freely

and abundantly. The soil, too, is of as diverse a character

265

266 Pictures of Bird Life

as the rest of this paradoxical country, the barren and
metalliferous provinces of Northern Spain culminating in the
fertile gardens of Andalucia and the swampy rice-fields of

Valencia. Then, too, the greater part of the country is

Dunuins (7vinga alpina) FEEDING.

uninhabited. Even in the cultivated parts the population
is confined to the towns and villages, and the vast spaces
of barren sand-dunes, the flooded marisnwas of the south,
and the pine- and cork-woods are absolutely without a
human habitation, save the temporary shelter of reeds
and branches used by the few herdsmen and charcoal-
burners. And, above all, the propinquity of Gibraltar and
the southern apex of Andalucia to the great African Con-
tinent, the winter resort of so many migratory birds, is
taken advantage of by them as the shortest and easiest
route to follow. So that a very large proportion of the
birds which migrate to and from the northern countries of
Europe pass through Spain twice every year. Besides these,

there are many others which cross over from Africa, and nest

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 267

in the south of that country, as their farthest northern limit
in an ordinary way, though most of them are represented in
our list of British birds by a few stragglers which have, at
long intervals, reached our shores.

The larger raptorial birds, which are almost exterminated
in more populous and civilised countries, are here found
in great abundance. ‘The carrion-eating Vultures nest in
numbers in the inaccessible heights of the sierras, and
range over the open country in search of food. The car-
cases of drowned oxen and sheep, and those of the luckless
horses, victims of the brutal bull-ring, are cleared away in
an incredibly short space of time by these scavengers, which
throng to the feast from far and wide. Even the very bones
disappear, the ‘* Quebrantahuesos,” the Bone-smashers, as the
Egyptian Vulture and the Lammergeyer are called, carrying
them one by one high in the air, and then dropping them
on to the rocks in order to get at the marrow. The
Golden Eagle and Imperial Eagle, Bonelli’s and the Short-
toed Eagle, and the Booted Eagle are all to be found,
some of them preying on the rabbits and the smaller
quadrupeds, and others on the innumerable snakes and
lizards which abound in every direction.

Of the larger Hawks, the Kites, partly carrion- and
partly reptile-eaters, are exceedingly numerous. The Egg-
sating Harriers are to be seen daily quartering the lower
grounds and reed-beds for what eggs and young birds they can
find. The knightly Peregrine and the more humble Kestrel

are also numerous. But perhaps it is that -extraordmary

268 Pictures of Bird Life

and unique region known as the ‘ marisma” which affords
the greatest diversity of bird life. Here come, either at
one time of the year or the other, almost every species
of marsh, aquatic, and wading birds on our list of British

birds, with many others unknown to us. ‘The Great Bustard

Nest oF Kite (Milvus regalis).

still frequents the rolling plains and tawny corn-fields of the
south, and the stately Crane nests amid the reed-grown
lagoons.

So that, when I received an invitation to join a yachting
party at Gibraltar, for the purpose of exploring the mouth

of the Guadalquivir and the famous marismas of that dis-

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 269

trict in search of birds, it is needless to say that it was
accepted with alacrity. It was the very thing I had been
longing to do for years; all needful preparations were made
with the greatest enthusiasm, and a start was made with
anticipations which were more than fulfilled. Travelling
overland through France—for I had been unable to catch
the steamer—did not present anything worthy of notice.
Birds, indeed, appeared, as far as one could judge from the
passing train, conspicuous by their absence, with the ex-
ception of Magpies, which were more plentiful than I had
ever seen them before. Their nests were to be seen by the
dozen, sometimes two, and even three, in one leafless tree.
Railway travelling was not altogether so comfortable as it
might have been, though it was partly or altogether my own
fault that the journey from London was so long and tedious.
Starting on Sunday evening, I did not land on the quay
at Gibraltar until Friday evening. Still, the journey was an
experience I am glad not to have missed. It gave me an
opportunity of seeing something, however cursory, of the
whole length of Spain, from north to south, and many typical
glimpses of an extremely interesting and picturesque people,
and of noting the effects of climate on the various races.
The country south of the Pyrenees is very picturesque:
rocky valleys, covered with oak and chestnut, generally had
a small stream rippling along over the shallows, and looking
very “trouty ’—as I believe they are. Here the people
are frugal and industrious, the soil not being very produc-

tive, and labour being absolutely necessary to get a living.

270 Pictures of Bird Life

It was a common sight to see a couple of men, one on
each side of a scarlet petticoated woman, digging on a steep
hillside, keeping step and time together. <All six brown
arms would raise their spades above the head, down would
go the blades all together, like clockwork, being pressed
farther down by their bare feet. At every station—and
there was one every few miles—the train would wait while
many kegs and boxes of produce of some kind or other
were leisurely packed on board; and when we did at last
get under way again, the children would run alongside,
jumping on and off the footboard for some little distance
with familiar contempt. On every train travel a couple of
the ubiquitous “ guardas civiles,” in their neat black-and-
white uniform, and armed with rifle and sword-bayonet.
One of these men would, every time he wanted a smoke,
open the breech of his rifle, give it a tap, and out would
come a cigarette. They are a long way the best-set-up and
most soldierly troops in Spain. Every station was also occu-
pied by a * carabinero,” in shabby uniform of most atrocious
cut and colour or combination of colours. One I remember
had a blue coat, red trousers, and bright green worsted
gloves !

Magpies again are very numerous: they appear to be the
commonest bird throughout both France and Spain. As the
train climbed higher and higher up into the sierras north of
Madrid, the snow-covered peaks began to be visible on each
side, and the nights were bitterly cold. The people here

were wrapped in their long Spanish cloaks, a most service-

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 271

able garment for such a climate, where the winds are of
an icy coldness.

At one of the mountain stations a party of sportsmen
alighted, and I watched them mounting their horses, which
were waiting outside in charge of two or three keepers.

One of the “guns” carried a large Parrot’s cage, in which

Kite’s Nest witH YouncG (Milvus regalis).

was a “Reclamo,” a tame cock Partridge, a Red-leg (our
Partridge being unknown south of the Pyrenees), whose
call was to be used to attract his kith and kin within reach
of the ambushed guns. This 1s the usual Spanish fashion
of shooting Partridges !

Through a gap in the mountains the line passed close

to the KEscurial, and brilliant uniforms and many ladies

My (e Pictures of Bird Life

were on the platform of the little station, not far from
Madrid.

South of Madrid the country is monotonous in the ex-
treme at this time of year (March): a barren-looking plateau
appeared to stretch to the horizon, unbroken by tree or
shrub. ‘The vines had not yet begun to sprout, and appeared
to be so many rows of dead and lifeless stumps.

A few small parties of Swallows and Kestrels now
began to be seen, all of them working northwards; and the
farther south the more numerous they became, until by
the time Andalucia was reached many Swallows and Martins
were noticed perching on the stations and telegraph-wires.
Now and then a Bee-eater might be seen, and cactus hedges
and aloes bordered the line.

Beggars infest all the stations, which are quite open to
all comers, cripples of all sorts and descriptions, and pedlars
shout their appeals and call attention to their wares. Some
of them sell water—* Agua, agua”; others oranges, which are
cheap and delicious ; and boys run about with trays of fearsome-
looking cakes and eatables, of whose composition I know
nothing, nor want to—most unholy-looking compounds, which
would, I should imagine, make very excellent fly-traps.

The herdsmen and shepherds are invariably armed with
long rusty guns slung on their backs, and mostly clad in
leather from head to foot, looking much more like brigands
than honest men. Appearances are, however, deceptive: for
further experience showed that this class of men were

invariably very polite and obliging.

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274 Pictures of Bird Life

At Gibraltar I waited ten days before the yacht arrived,
being delayed by bad weather coming from Cyprus. During
the whole of this time I applied in vain for permission
to photograph at the adjutant’s office. In spite of repeated
promises I never got it, and had to leave without having
had a chance of doing many things that I wanted to.

Swarms of Kestrels clustered like bees up and down
the rugged face of the stupendous cliff of the north front.
I was never tired of watching them soaring overhead and
listening to their wild, chattering cries. It is possible to
climb up the sloping foot of the cliff. and there I could
sit and see them hovering or perching on the ledges and
crevices of the perpendicular Rock above. In the holes and
crannies were many pigeons, and towards evening the Swifts
would come tumbling out, to wheel around the narrow
streets, uttering their weird screams. The Kestrels, I imagine,
must feed largely on beetles, no other food being plentiful
enough to support such immense numbers of them.

In the beautiful public gardens on the south side were
many familar English birds, whose notes came at first as
a surprise from amid the luxuriant tangle of semi-tropical
foliage—from date-palms, oranges, bananas, pepper-trees, and
many others, festooned with strange climbing plants, whose
brilhant flowers fill the air with sweet perfume and attract
numbers of butterflies.

From the parade-ground above these gardens the great
bare Rock rears its imposing height from the belt of pines

and low brushwood which clothes the lower slopes. Below

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 275

lie at anchor the stately warships and large passenger-
steamers, which are ever arriving and departing ; and across
the narrow straits can be plainly seen Ceuta and the African
mountains.

Between the north front and the neutral ground there
is a wide moat, on which are numbers of Coots and Mallards,
feeding and swimming about in the most unconcerned manner

within a few feet of the noisy and busy traffic constantly

Grey Piovers (Squatarola helvetica).

passing along the dusty roads leading to the Spanish lines.
Though so tame, these are perfectly wild birds, free to come
and go as they like; and they may be seen towards evening
flying in from seawards, and, after wheeling round, pitching
down on the water.

It was reported in the hotel that an Egyptian Vulture
was in the habit of daily visiting the officers’ mess of the

South Wales Borderers, where food was regularly provided

276 Pictures of Bird Life

for it. Not having the necessary permit to photograph from
the military authorities, I arranged to go up with the local
photographer, as he had a commission for some work there,
and, passing myself off as his assistant, intended to devote
myself to the Vulture. Unfortunately he was prevented from
going, and the opportunity was missed.

The fact is, the ordinary civilian in Gibraltar, especially
when making a short and temporary stay, is soon made to
realise that he is only there on sufferance, which indeed is the
‘ase; and unless he has introductions, or is known to the
powers that be, he does not stand much chance of doing
anything, beyond going over the galleries in charge of a
sergeant and inspecting the lighthouse. I could have for-
gone these sights with much equanimity if I could have seen
the Bonelli’s Eagles which have nested for many years within
sight of one of the signal stations, or the Osprey’s nest, or
the celebrated apes.

As it was, these were forbidden pleasures: and being
unable to do anything on the Rock, I crossed over to
Algerciras, and went inland a short distance by train to some
cork-woods, at a place called Almoraima.

Leaving the little station, I found myself in very Eng-
lish-looking country: the light, sandy soil was covered with
bracken, here and there were small reed-grown lagoons and
swamps, and from the oak- and cork-trees could be heard the
* Pink-pink ~ of chaffinches and the notes of many ‘Titmice
and Blackbirds. From yonder rose-spangled thicket entwined

with honeysuckle came the joyous melody of a Nightingale,

(‘snooy ‘ut-For yo suay Aavulpso YIM ouOp auO at} Sv Jods atuvs WO.Y Susy OJOYd-s]o1 YUM poydvasojoyd oSevut r9S1v] oyp)

‘ATTIAAG ‘SNUGUV) OIIANG NI ISHN NO WAOLG ALIHAA

278 Pictures of Bird Life

and Cuckoos announced their arrival in every direction, But
among these sounds were mingled the liquid notes of the
Bee-eaters, as they poised in mid-air or perched on some
bare twig on the watch for passing insects.

More conspicuous still on the bare branches of the lower
bushes were the Woodchat Shrikes, their white breasts shining
in the sun, and showing off the rich chestnut of head and
back. They are very bold and familiar, much more so than
the ‘Begs
raters, which
dash off at
the slightest
attempt at a
near ap-
proach. Sey-
eral of these
graceful and

brightly col-

_ oured — birds
Stitt (Hunantopus candidus),
were hover-
ing in front of some holes in a high bank; but so early in
the season—mid-April—it did not seem worth while to try
to dig out the holes. While watching to find out if the
birds were entering them at all, I saw the tail of a big lizard
sticking out of one of them.

Lizards and snakes are exceedingly numerous, and run to
a very large size. Both are credited with devouring birds

and their eggs, and even rabbits; and in their turn they

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 279

are devoured by many of the raptorial birds. Very soon
after leaving the station a rushing sound behind made me
turn quickly, and I saw an Eagle closely pursuing another
one, which had firmly gripped in its claws a large lizard.
In their excitement they had approached quite close to me.
From their white-barred breasts, they were seen to be the
Snake-eagle, or Short-toed Eagle—a migratory species which
crosses into Spain in the summer to feed on the numerous
snakes and lizards, and nests in the cork- and pine-trees.

Passing on the way a roadside *“ venta,” I went in_ for
something to eat and drink. The accommodation in these
places is of the roughest, though I had some capital eggs
and some sour wine. ‘ Huevos fritos” (fried eggs) are the
only things eatable, so far as my experience goes, in Spain.

On entering, I found the host, sun-dried and lean, sitting
on a rough bench on the earthen floor of the public room.
In one corner stood sundry mules and donkeys, and cocks
and hens ran in and out of the open doorway. Just over
his head many Swallows were visiting their nests in the
rude rafters, perfectly tame and unconcerned. I heard after-
wards that only the day before a man had been dangerously
stabbed in this same “venta” in a quarrel with a rival over
the old man’s daughter, probably the same girl who waited
on me. However, I knew nothing then of all this, and
enjoyed my meal and rest; for carrying a camera over rough
country under an Andalucian sun, even in April, is trying
work.

On one side of the line a small stream runs, full of

280 Pictures of Bird Life

fish, apparently dace, and water-turtles appeared to be very
common. Here I saw a Marsh-harrier for the first time,
disturbing it from a dead and withered tree which overhung
the stream.

A. Sandpiper was also seen, which I took to be the Green

Sandpiper; and a Kingfisher—the only one I saw in Spain

ma 36/8, eet

THe AUTHOR.

throughout my visit. According to Chapman, it is *‘* most
numerous in winter.” A Blue Tit was noticed nesting in a
birch-tree at the waterside. Unfortunately I did not see
the Crested Vit, which is to be found in the neighbourhood.

Looking into a small bush for nests, a green tree-frog

was espied a few inches from my face, clinging to one of

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 281

the upright stalks. It was perfectly motionless, and the
curious, compressed form, of a most vivid and brilliant green,
was wonderfully inconspicuous amid the leaves. After
watching and photographing it, I gave it a slight touch-up,
and the thing vanished into the next bush with a flying leap,
nor could a close search detect it again.

A pair of the inevitable “ guardas ” were occupants of my
carriage on the way back: and on arriving at the terminus
I was requested to move, and then saw for the first time
that my next-door neighbour was a prisoner, chained hand
and foot, so that he had to be half lifted out of the carriage.
He was most likely bound for the convict prison on a small
rock-island in the bay.

At last the welcome arrival of the yacht released me
from waiting in idleness, and I went on board at once, as
glad to leave Gibraltar as I had been to see it on_ first
arrival.

Running round to the Guadalquivir under steam just
took up one day, and we made for San Lucar de Barrameda
after dark, anchoring off the town, on which we turned the
search-light from the bridge, in order to see what sort of a
place it appeared.

Early the next morning brought the British Vice-Consul
and a letter from friends to whom we had _ introductions,
giving us permission to visit and collect over a celebrated
preserve on the property of the Duke of Medina Sidonia ;
and, according to instructions, we proceeded farther up the

river, and brought up again off a rude and rickety landing-

282 Pictures of Bird Life

stage. The country inland appeared to be covered with
pine-trees. Through the glass many waders could be seen
feeding along the muddy edge of the river. The tide in all
these Spanish rivers, as well as the Portuguese, runs with
amazing velocity; their turbid waters race along with such
power and speed that accidents are frequent.

Astern of the yacht were the usual crowd of Gulls, hovering
on the look-out for floating
morsels ; with them were gener-
ally a Kite or two, also on the
watch. Both on the Guadalquivir
as far as Seville, and on the
Tagus off Lisbon, Kites were
daily to be seen picking up
garbage and refuse from the
different vessels. They are much
the commonest raptorial bird in

Spain, and are the first to be

seen wherever you go. ‘The

Littte OwL (Athene noctua).

anchor was scarcely down before
IT had landed with all my equipment. With me, to assist
in carrying the things, was a luckless valet, who, I fear,
did not enjoy himself half as much as I did. I never saw
any man more completely out of his element, when after-
wards, up to my knees in water, busily engaged in photo-
graphing a large flock of Dunlins in a driving rain-storm,
I looked round and saw him vainly endeavouring to find

shelter under a pine-tree, which afforded about as much

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 283

shelter as a big cabbage-stalk, with my waterproof over his
arm. It was no good to me, as I was already soaked to
the skin, and was, besides, too busy to go for it, so I
shouted to him to put it on himself; but when we finally
returned to the yacht, he shivered and shook and looked

such a picture of utter misery that I had to get him

Nest or PurpLe Heron (Ardea purpurea).

a stiff “go” of brandy to put a little life into him again.
While engaged in the thick of this storm, I was_ sur-
prised and disgusted to find myself hailed from behind,
and, turning, saw two mounted keepers with guns
shouting to me. On showing them, however, a_ letter

from their employers, they said no more—though, as it

284. Pictures of Bird Life

was in English, they could not have understood a_ single
word of its contents.

On first landing here among the pine-trees not many birds
were seen, only a few Kites and an Eagle, and accordingly we

turned along the shore, where were some <Avocets and

Two Nests oF SpoonsBiLits (Platalea leucorodia).

Redshanks. They were, however, very wild, and there was
no appearance of their having begun to nest.

Following the muddy banks of a small creek led us to
some marshy ground grown over with immense rushes, from
which we disturbed some half-wild pigs. Presently small
waders, like Dunlins, Knots, and Ringed Plovers, began to be

more numerous, and large flocks of birds could be seen in

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 285

the distance, over what appeared to be a large sheet of water ;
and we soon found ourselves standing on the shores of a
vast inland lake, divided at the horizon from the sky by low
pine-trees. ‘The nearer shores were alive with flocks of birds
busily feeding, the Dunlins especially almost regardless of our

presence as they ran about over the mud and explored all the

Littte Ecrets (Ardea garzella) 1 NestinG CoLony.

little creeks. Godwits and larger birds waded in the farther
shallows, while Gulls and Terns flew overhead ; but the chief
interest was centred on the Flamingoes, which stood in long
lines along the farther shore exactly like regiments of soldiers.

Then it was realised that we were really in the marisma
which we had come to see, and that all we had read and heard

about the wealth of bird life was more than true.

286 Pictures of Bird Life

The scene was one full of interest and animation, and I
enjoyed it to the utmost. I was soon hard at work, and found
that after a while the birds were too busy to take much notice of
me crouching behind the camera enveloped in my green cloth.
The weather, however, got so bad, and the wind and rain so
heavy, that it was impossible to work, and we returned to our
ship in a rough kind of punt, exceedingly leaky and rickety,
pulled by two natives, arriving in a very dripping condition.

On board we found a Spanish * shikari,” sent by the
friend to whom we owed the privilege of working in this
paradise for naturalists, as guide, factotum, and assistant
generally; and a first-rate fellow I found him, always obliging
and willing, and with a good knowledge of the local birds
and beasts. He could also skin birds and blow eggs, and
altogether was a great acquisition. Not one word of English,
however, could he speak: it is, in fact, unusual to find any
Spaniard outside the large towns able to speak anything
except his own language, and not very usual there.

The next day we had a long round through the pinales
and over the sand-dunes, and after a while came to a Kite’s
nest up at the top of a big pine-tree. As I was very much
out of condition, and it was a stiff climb, all swarming to
the top, I suggested he should tackle it. and gave him a
back till he was standing on my _ shoulders, and then I
pushed his feet up as far as I could reach; but as soon as
this support was withdrawn he came tumbling down again.
As a climber he was a dead failure, though it is only fair

to say that he had a nasty cut on one hand.

‘ISHN ONY (vYyI2WwS vIptfy) LANOT ATLL

288 Pictures of Bird Life

His failure made me determined to get up somehow,
whatever happened, and I got him to give me a back. Finally,
after a hard struggle, I reached the nest, somewhat to my own
surprise. Unfortunately it was empty; but we soon found
more nests, and that afternoon I successfully tackled
nine pine-trees, taking altogether three clutches of Kites’
egos.

I shall not soon forget the pleasure experienced on looking
into my first Kite’s nest, and seeing the three great round eggs,
so richly spotted and marked. All the nests were lined
with horse-dung, and without exception contained a bit of
rag of some description and a piece of newspaper. One
such piece I still have, containing an account of the Cretan
War, which was going on at the time.

There are two species of Kites—the resident Common
Ixite, ** Milano real” of the Spaniards, and * Milano negro,”
the Black Kite, a migratory species. The eggs of these
two are indistinguishable, and in order to identify them it is
necessary to make sure of the birds. The flight of both
is magnificently easy and graceful, as they glide along,
steering themselves by» their long forked tail, which is in
the Black Kite less deeply cleft: and the bird is somewhat
smaller and more dusky-looking, as seen from below.

On one nest, in a large cork-tree, the bird remained
while I was climbing up to it, and I did not know she
was there. On getting my head above it and looking in, I
was considerably astonished at seeing the nest, as I thought,

unfold a big pair of wings and fly away. My eyes, in fact,

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 289

were so close to it that I hardly realised at first what I
was looking at. There were two young birds, clad in dirty
white down, one much larger than the other. The terior
of the nest—or rather the surface, for it was only a rough,
flat platform of sticks—was covered with horse-dung, which
was perfectly alive with maggots. The young birds’ crops
were very full, as also their larder; for the nest contained an

eel, the tail of a rat, a Green Woodpecker, and a Redshank.

Litrte Ecrets (Ardea garzetta).

This cuts a sorry figure, however, with the larder in a Welsh
Kites nest, as found by Lord Aberdare, and recorded in
the Zoologist. A drowned puppy, a rabbit, and the hind-
quarters of a small pig indicate a liberal seale of housekeeping,
compared with which the Spanish larder appears quite mean
and poverty-stricken, as befits, perhaps, a poor and poverty-
stricken country.

(It was from a Spanish newspaper found in a Kite’s nest

290 Pictures of Bird Life

that Lord Lilford first learnt the news of the assassination
of President Lincoln.)

Descending the smooth, branchless trunk of one of these
pine-trees, with three Black Kaite’s eggs in my coat-pocket,
I had the misfortune to slip, and landed on my_ back.
However, there was no damage done, except the breakage
of one of the eggs, which made a great mess in my pocket.
It might have been worse, though.

These eggs of the Black Kite and Common Kite, together
with two clutches of Magpies’ eggs, were all we found on
this day; but I was perfectly satisfied and well content.

We found on our return that one of the sailors had
brought in two large round white eggs from a nest in a
pine, which he described as lined with grass and containing
a rabbit. These were subsequently submitted to a great
authority on Spanish ornithology—Mr. Howard Saunders—
and were by him pronounced to be those of the Booted
Eagle (Aquila pennata).

The Imperial Eagle is found also among these pine-trees,
and we saw several. They were described by Benitez as
* Aquila real.” We came across an immense nest on the
extreme summit of the largest pine-tree I ever saw. I was
too tired even to attempt it; and without rope or climbing-
irons it would have been impossible to ascend, as the tree was
much too large to clasp. The nest was, besides, probably
empty, as these birds breed very early, beginning in January.
An immense primary feather was lying on the ground below,

the only evidence seen of the birds.

Grossy Ipis (Plegadis falcinellus) anp Nest.

{The bird in front is a Buff-backed Heron.)

292 Pictures of Bird Life

The Golden Eagle and Bonellis Eagle are confined to
the sierras during the nesting’ season, and nothing’ was seen
of either of them.

The next day was spent steaming up the river to Seville,
where a stay was made of several days. The scenery, as
seen from the Guadalquivir, can hardly be described as
interesting or picturesque
to anybody but an orni-
thologist. ‘To us, however,
there was much to watch
for and plenty to interest.

Where the river divides
and forms the Isla Mayor
we could from the bridge
look across a flat expanse
of marsh and shallow
water, in which were stand-
ing whole battalions of

Flamingoes in flocks of

hundreds. Here and there

BuFF-BACKED Heron (Ardea bubulcus).

on stacks and buildings
could be seen Storks standing by and sitting on their nests.
Sometimes the shores and the edge of the water, when
shallow enough, were black with hundreds of cattle drinking,
for this is a famous grazing-ground for the bulls destined
for the national sport of the bull-fight. In one place we
saw thousands of Sand-martins resting on their passage north,

and several large flocks of Starlings were noticed.

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 293

On the muddy banks in the lower reaches were numerous
Avocets, Curlews, Godwits, Redshanks, Grey Plovers, and
other waders. ‘These appeared to be mostly on passage; for
on one day a particular species may be very prominent, and
on the next there will be none of it to be seen, and some
other will be equally numerous. Flying past were Pratincoles
and Whiskered ‘Terns, with Marsh and Montague’s Harriers
and numerous Kites. Where the river narrowed as we ad-
vanced farther up, the banks were covered with thick reed-
beds, from which came the well-known harsh and grating
song of the Great Reed-warblers; while from the bushes
we heard a strange and unfamiliar song, which, while it
reminded us of the Nightingale, was evidently from some other
and unknown musician.

At last we reached our destination, and moored in mid-
stream near to several English cargo-steamers.

Seville and its attractions I must leave to abler pens to
do justice to.

“Quien no ha visto Sevilla, no ha visto maravilla,” says
a well-known Spanish proverb, and a very true one. For
he who has not seen Seville has indeed missed a marvel.
It is, I think, the most picturesque place I ever saw,
and contains some gems of Moorish architecture. Storks
were nesting on one at least of the churches, and there
is another nest on the summit of a tower in the public
gardens. There was also one on the top of a dead tree
a few miles below Seville. A strong migration of Wry-

necks appeared to be passing through Seville; the gardens

294 Pictures of Bird Life

in every direction were full. of them, and their note
resounded on all sides.

On April 30th, 1897, the yacht left the Guadalquivir,
bound for Gibraltar, Malaga, and ‘Tangiers.

Benitez had a few days previously been sent to make
arrangements for food, wine, bedding, and other necessaries for
a fortnight’s stay up in the Coto, and accordingly he and
I were landed on the quay at Bonanza on the way down.
Here we found a large open cargo-boat, into which we stowed
away our luggage and ourselves, and were soon running up
against the strong tide under an immense lateen sail, and in
a short time landed again higher up the river. While our
goods and chattels were being landed by the Spanish crew
Benitez vanished among the pines, presently returning with a
pack-mule for the luggage and himself, and a horse for me.

Then I had my first experience of the carrying capacity
of the Spanish mule. It seemed almost impossible for any
one beast, short of an elephant, to have carried all our
packages,—some large and cumbrous, bedding and such
things; others exceptionally heavy, full of photographic
materials, plates, and so on. But one by one they were
all stowed away in the two huge pack-saddles, and, when
these were full, piled on the top and made fast with ropes.
As each package was hoisted up, the beast only straddled
his legs out a little farther apart to support the weight: and
then, when all was securely fastened, Benitez was hoisted
up by the boatmen, and perched himself on top of every-

thing. The load was one which far exceeded the mule itself

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 295

in bulk, and would have been a tremendous load for an English
road.

But how can I describe the track along which we journeyed
for four or five
hours? <Actual
road there was
none, but a barely
visible track
wandered along
through pine-
forests and_ thick
prickly — scrub,
skirting round im-
penetrable thickets
and morasses. of
unknown depth.
Often the heather
came over our
heads; sometimes
we ploughed along
painfully over an
endless succession

of sand-dunes,

thro ugh whose NIGHT-HERON (WVyclicorax griseus).

loose surface our animals sank fetlock-deep. Many miles of
the way were through thick and most tenacious mud, whose
surface was not yet dried into the brick-like hardness of those

parts from which the water had earlier receded. There the

296 Pictures of Bird Life

surface was split up into countless cracks and reticulations ;
but here every footstep sank deeply, and it was with difficulty
the beasts were able to drag their feet out again. Sometimes,
again, we waded through shallow water or deeper creeks,
where it was as much as we could do to cross without
swimming. And this was what Benitez had described to me
as a good road—* un bueno camino”! I believe he really in
this case lost his way, for we returned afterwards in much
less time, and the going was certainly better.

I do not believe that there is a decent road in the
whole of Andalucia. If there is, I never saw one; even
in the large towns the streets are bad enough. ‘There is no
wheeled traffic possible from place to place. Everything is
‘carried by pack-mule, or * borrico,” strings of donkeys being
often met with in the most out-of-the-way places, laden with
goods: and all travelling is done on horseback.

Our progress, as we plodded along, was sometimes amid
the familiar cries of Lapwings and Redshanks, mingled with
those of stranger birds. We now passed for the first time
numbers of Stilts wading in the shallow water. They allowed
us to ride within a few yards, and when they flew their extra-
ordinary long red legs were stretched out straight behind.
Pratincoles flew round, looking on the wing like huge
Swallows. Eagles and Kites soared over the pine- and cork-
trees, and in the more marshy spots we were accompanied
by Black and ~Whiskered ‘Terns. Around every group of
rattle and half-wild horses, feeding on the succulent water-

plants, and often perched on their backs, were numbers of

Burr-Backep Herons (Ardea bubulcus) ann Nest,

298 Pictures of Bird Life

the pretty Buffbacked Herons. They feed on ticks and
other insect parasites, from which their Spanish name is
derived —** Agarrapatosos ” (‘Tick-eaters). Besides these, we
saw plenty of Storks, Ibises, Little Egrets, and Purple
[erons.

For the last hour or so of our journey we had seen
in front of us over the marsh a large white house, sur-
rounded by a few trees. This proved to be our destination.
The house, like all Spanish houses, is built in a square,
enclosing a large open space, or “ patio.” The entrance was
a large arched doorway, high enough and wide enough,
when the thick and massive double doors, studded with
iron bolts, are thrown back, to allow three mounted men
to ride in abreast without stooping. A camp-bed was soon
unpacked from the long-suffering mule, and rigged up in
an upper room, and the baggage carried up, and presently a
hot meal and a wash made things seem comfortable.

The house is in an ideal position for ornithological work,
on the very edge of the ‘ marisma,” where it first begins
imperceptibly to merge into dry land. Behind are sand-
dunes, pine- and cork-woods, and vast heather-covered wastes.
From my window every evening I could see the flocks of
Egrets and Herons wend their homeward flight. followed
by strings of Glossy Ibis, looking intensely black against
the glow of the sunset sky. Every night I was serenaded
by a pair of Barn-owls, which often sat on the balcony
outside my window. ‘Their uncanny cries could be heard

far into the night, together with the cat-like mew of one

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 299

of the smaller Owls—I think a Scops-owl. In the early
mornings the first sound to greet my ears was the familiar
chatter of Starlings. ‘These, however, are not our English
Starling (Sturnus vulgaris), but the unspotted Sardinian
Starling (8S. wnicolor), which have a very glossy appearance in
the bright sunshine; otherwise their habits, nest, and eggs
seem to be identical with those of our well-known bird.

Each morning we used to start off at about eight o’clock :
myself, the guarda-mayor, Augustin, and another guarda,
Manuele. on horseback, with Benitez on the mule—* el
mulo maldito,” as he used to call it—in whose capacious
packs were stored away cameras, plates, water-bottles,
wine, food, and wading-trousers, together with two large
baskets for eggs.

It is impossible to get along without horses, and
it was a novel and not unpleasant experience to go bird-
nesting thus mounted. Sometimes for miles we rode through
water from six inches to three feet deep. In the dry
plains the bushes were too thick and high to permit of our
penetrating far afoot. The bracken and heather grow to
a height unknown in England, and the numerous muddy
creeks and swamps would have been impassable without
horses. These are small, wiry, and unkempt-looking beasts,
on which one sits perched up high on a_ peaked Spanish
saddle covered with sheepskin, and provided with stirrups
like huge triangular iron boxes. The bits are cruel and very
powerful, and have to be carefully used by strangers. My

horse would always go off full gallop every time the slightest

300 Pictures of Bird Life

pressure was put on the bridle. The very first time of
mounting him, on taking up the reins he started buck-jumping,
and tearing round as hard as he could go; and the harder
I pulled the faster he went. Benitez, perched on his mule,
shouted to me in Spanish; but I was too much occupied
to understand him, until presently I began to realise that
he meant me to slack off the pressure on the bit. On
my doing so the beast quieted down directly and went all
nght. But if ever he stumbled over the rough sun-baked
mud, and I tried to pick him up with the bridle—an instinctive
habit I could never break myself of—he would invariably
go off at full gallop as hard as he could pelt: and I daily
expected to get my neck broken in one of these wild
outbursts over hard mud, punched into innumerable deep
holes, where the cattle had trodden it when wet and soft.
But all Spanish horses are wonderfully surefooted, and we
never came to grief, however dangerous the ground, The
finish up of every day’s work was a race home with Augustin,
as soon as the house became visible and the ground fairly
level. In these races my horse invariably came in_ first, and
the pace he could go over any description of ground was
astonishing.

For tree work being mounted is a decided advantage.
Standing on the saddle enables one to investigate many
holes which would otherwise only have been reached by
climbing, and would often bring one within reach of a branch
if the tree had to be ascended, and even if there were no

branch the height thus gained made a good start. On

302 Pictures of Bird Life

coming down I always found the horse where I had _ left
him, so that I could slip into the saddle and ride off to
the next one; while eggs could be picked up from shallow
water, and even from level ground, without the trouble of
dismounting.

On one occasion, while standing on my saddle to peer
into a large hole in a cork-tree, I saw in it two Barn-
owls, which were standing side by side in their usual sedate
and contemplative attitudes. One of them flapped out in
my face, and the other was grabbed before it could make
its escape. There was no nest, nor any sign of eggs, and
my captive was soon released. Soon afterwards another
Barn-owl flew from a hole at the end of a broken branch,
in which we found freshly hatched young, clad in pure
white down. The Barn-owl (* Lechuza”) is very much
disliked by Spaniards, who view it with the same super-
stitious alarm with which it is regarded by the ignorant of
most European nations.

The old cork-trees were nearly always full of holes,
which serve as convenient nesting-places for numerous Jack-
daws, Rollers, and three different species of Owl. Underneath
the soft spongy bark the wood is intensely hard, but in
spite of this the Spanish Green Woodpecker (Gecinus
sharpu) bores large holes down into the interior.

We never succeeded in getting eggs of this Woodpecker.
though they are exceedingly common, but twice found their
holes occupied by Little Owls. In one were four eggs, and

in the other we caught the old bird, which was reluctant

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 303

to leave her freshly hatched young. After replacing the
youngsters and releasing her, she at once scrambled in after
them again. I have since often wished I had kept these
quaint-looking little objects—the whole family, in fact. Owls
are very easily reared and kept in confinement, and I have
had several kinds at different times, and found them very
amusing. The odd contortions and grotesque poses of the
Little Owl are above all irresistibly funny.

Soon afterwards a Roller was seen to leave a hole in
another cork-tree; but we were quite unable to make any
impression with any tools in our possession, and were in
consequence unable to reach the eggs. These birds tumble
about in the air and behave in a most extraordinary manner,
making the whole time an indescribable racket. The first one
I saw puzzled me: to all appearance the bird was stark
staring mad.

Birds of all sorts are always to be found in numbers
round these old cork-trees. One group of magnificent trees,
under whose welcome shade we had stopped to lunch, was,
I remember, fairly alive with birds. Many Little Owls
flew from the numerous holes and cavities; Woodpeckers
were to be seen, as we rode up, climbing nimbly all over
the great gnarled and twisted branches; and a large colony
of Jackdaws were busy nesting. We found many nests full
of eggs; one of them being among the roots underground.
Among these trees the only Hoopoe and the only Great
Spotted Cuckoo seen during my visit were observed. The

former appeared to have left a small round hole about

304 Pictures of Bird Life

thirty feet up one of the smaller trees, but on climbing
to it there was no appearance of any nest.

Soon after starting on our first day, a colony of Spoon-
bills were seen nesting among the reeds about fifty yards

from the shore in a lagoon. The white plumage of the

Nest OF Raven (Coruits corax).

birds could be seen through the thick growth, as we rode
along the edge of the water. One of the men was sent
round for a punt not far away, while we dismounted and
hobbled the horses. By the time the camera had been got
ready and wading-trousers got into, Manuele had arrived

with a rickety. flat-bottomed affair, called a * lancha.” in which

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 305

I was paddled over to the
nests with some difficulty.
There were about a dozen, of
exactly similar appearance and
construction to those I had
seen in Holland,—flat, rough
platforms of dry yellow reeds
and sticks, just raised above
the surface of the water, which
was rather deep—dquite four
feet. Each nest contained
egos, two, three, or four in
number, which varied con-
siderably in shape, some being
very rounded, and_ others,
again, remarkably elongated.

I was soon overboard, and
astonished Manuele consider-

ably by telling him in Spanish,

BEE-EATER (Mevops apiaster) on Tormost
TwiGc oF A CORK-TREE.

as well as I was able, to go away, but had the usual diffi-

culty in making him understand that I wanted him to go

right away out of sight and hearing. I was most anxious

to photograph one of these birds at its nest, and it was

obviously useless for me to hide up while he was pottering

about in a punt within sight of them all. However, at last

he was made to understand what I really wanted, and he

departed, very unwillingly, being, I dare say, very doubtful

of my intentions.

306 Pictures of Bird Life

As soon as he had really gone, after cutting down some
of the reeds round the most exposed nests, which were utilised
in making a screen to hide myself and the camera, I waited
as patiently as I could, standing in the water and crouching
behind my improvised shelter for about three or four hours.
All this time the Spoonbills flew round and round overhead.
At first their circles were very wide and high in the air;
but gradually they came closer and closer, and lower and
lower still, till presently they were skimming along just
over the reeds, and, when passing their nests, would drop
their legs, as if going to alight. But their minds would
misgive them, and round they would go once more.

At last, however, first one and then another actually
alighted, until I could see seven or eight Spoonbills standing
on their nests all round me, their crests waving in the wind,
and their orange gorgets plainly visible. Between us, however.
were too many reeds waving about in the wind to make a
successful photograph possible. The birds which belonged
to the nest [ was waiting for obstinately refused to alight,
being evidently suspicious of the clearing I had made; and,
after waiting so long, part of the time in a heavy rain-
storm, I was eventually obliged to give it up and signal for
the punt.

While waiting in ambush here, a Purple Heron had been
noticed in an isolated clump of tall rushes at a little distance.
The water was too deep to permit of approaching it until
the arrival of the * lancha,” when we found there a nest and

five eggs.

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 307

On returning to dry land, we found Benitez and Augustin
hard at work blowing a large basketful of Purple Herons’
and Coots’ eggs.

Leaving the Spoonbills, an hour’s further ride over an
endless succession of sand-dunes brought us in sight of another
lagoon, surrounded on all sides by sand, which appeared to
be gradually filling up the water. As our cavalcade rode
up. some low tamarisk-bushes, growing thickly massed together
in the water, were seen to be crowded with immense numbers
of white birds, which, as we approached, rose into the air
in dense clouds, circling round with a great deal of noisy
clamour and confusion. It was a most extraordinary and
interesting sight; and I realised that in front of us was a
breeding colony of the Southern Herons, which are such
a characteristic feature in the bird life of this aquatic region.

There were Buff-backed Herons in thousands. These
alone were well worth the journey to see, for they breed
nowhere else in Europe; and with them were countless
numbers of the lovely and graceful Little Kgrets, which
have suffered so much persecution on account of their beautiful
plumes, the demand for which has almost exterminated them
in more accessible localities.

Squacco Herons were not so numerous, though I did
see a few of these beautiful little birds ; and there was quite
a goodly number of Night-herons and Glossy Ibis.

Seebohm’s most graphic description of a somewhat similar
nesting colony on the Danube came into my mind as I gazed

on the animated scene before me, and I appreciated then,

308 Pictures of Bird Life

more even than I had before, the truth and power of his

descriptions.

The horses were off-saddled, and I was soon in the waders

| et ata fall bad °
&¢ ojatgd ftt “} 53 }
: AA a ai)

Enp oF BEE-EATER’s NESTING BuRRow (Merops aptaster).

and hard at work photographing the birds, as they clustered
thickly on the topmost twigs of the bushes in all sorts of
grotesque and curious attitudes. As soon as one bird had
grasped a slender twig in its awkward-looking feet, and
while still struggling to preserve its balance in the high
wind, another one would fly up and knock it off, only
itself to be ousted by a third a moment afterwards. Others

were constantly flying round and attempting to settle, and

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 309

each individual bird added its quota to the unceasing babel
of extraordinary croaks, grunts, and groans with which all
the Heron family express themselves. The sand-dunes
around were also thickly covered with masses of birds,
which would every now and then again rise and circle
round and round, protesting with all their might against
our intrusion into their own particular domain. ‘The bushes
were full of their nests—mere slight platforms of sticks—
but there were as yet no eggs.

My work on this first day came to a most untimely
end; for leaving the camera on its tripod in the water,

while I went ashore for a fresh supply of plates, during my

see ap ial tt

PRATINCOLE (Glareola pratincola).

absence it blew over into nearly four feet of water. Trying
to raise it, I got my bag of dark-slides wet ; and, in conse-

quence, every plate I had exposed was wasted. ‘The gelatine

310 Pictures of Bird Life

films swelled with the wet, so that I had to smash the
plates into pieces before I could get them out of the slides.
We had a long ride home that day in a complete state of
saturation.

However, I had two more days’ work in this lagoon, and
obtained photographs of most of the birds and their nests.

On May 5th we took plenty of eggs of the Buff-backed
Herons and Egrets, and by the 8th the Night-herons,
Squaccos, and Glossy Ibises had laid.

These last birds had an intensely black and funereal
aspect amid the throngs of whiter birds. I do not know
whether their Spanish name, ‘ Morito,” has anything to do
with this idea. It always struck me as being possibly
derived from mors (death). It would certainly be appropriate,
though in reality there is no black at all in their plumage,
which is altogether glossy green and brown. They are birds
of extremely powerful flight; the noise made by the wings
of quite a small party of them when flying past is perfectly
astonishing. They lay eggs of a very dark greenish-blue
colour, which have a somewhat pointed shape.

The eggs of all this group are easily distinguishable one
from another, though they are all of different shades of blue.
Those of the Buff-backed Herons are pale in colour, and
rounded, while the Little Egrets lay eggs pointed at both
ends. They are, besides, smaller and somewhat darker.
The Night-heron’s are also elongated and very pointed,
more so even than the Egret’s, but are much larger in

size, and as pale in colour as the first named. The

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 311

Squacco’s eggs are pale, very round, and by far the smallest
of them all.

We were not fortunate enough to find any nests of the
Bittern (** Ave toro”) or the Little Bittern, both of which
are common enough. Plenty of Mallards and Coots were
observed while we were at this heronry, and a Little Grebe
was also seen. The loud song of a Great Reed-warbler also
claimed our attention, but a thorough search among the
reeds failed to find any nests. In fact, nowhere in Spain
did we find a nest of this common Warbler, the reason
probably being that they nest later. They are certainly
late breeders in Holland, and our own Reed-warbler always
seems to me to wait until the reeds have well grown up
before it begins to make its beautiful home.

No account of this district would be complete without
a mention of the sand-dunes, which are such a_ striking
feature of the country. They appear to be encroaching fast
on the forests and lagoons, the fine particles carried by the
wind filling up the latter and burying the former.

On the dazzling surface only broken by tall tufts of sea-
pinks and the yellow-spangled cistus-bushes, are many tracks
of various birds and animals. The curious footprints of the
Stone-plover, or Thick-knee, are very numerous, and several
clutches of eggs were found on the bare sand. Here is the
slot of a passing red deer, and the curious track of the
lizard, and there the serpentine trail of a snake. One
mark puzzled us for a long time, until an accident revealed

its origin. It looked as if some animal with many feet

312 Pictures of Bird Life

had passed over
the loose surface ;
but the sight one
day of a large
pine-cone being
rolled along by
the wind plainly
revealed the

cause of the mys-

Sritts (Himantopus candidus) FEEDING.

terious track.

These pine-cones, by-the-bye, are largely used as fuel
in some parts. Large piles of them may be seen exposed
for sale in the market-place of Coruna, and doubtless in
other places also. In one hollow among the dunes the
surface of the sand was covered with pieces of broken
pottery, most of which appeared to have been rudely en-
graved. A short search resulted in the finding of five
bronze coins, very much abraded and corroded. One. of
them showed the impression of a head and some letters of
an inscription, and all were apparently Roman. The most
curious feature about these dunes is the extraordinarily abrupt
fashion in which they terminate and hang suspended, as it
were, over the country below.

The foot of the steep slope of sand may reach, perhaps,
for a foot or a couple of feet up the stem of a pine-tree,
while half-way up other trees are seen to be buried up to
half their height and some only have the top branches visible ;

these show by their green foliage that they are still alive

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 313

and struggling for existence in the death-like grip of the
all-devouring sand. A few more years and their dead
branches will protrude in the midst of a sandy desert, withered
and bleached with exposure until they are finally engulfed
and lost completely to sight. If in future ages this covering
of sand should be removed, the sight would be very weird
and curious, and would no doubt afford endless speculation
and give rise to many ingenious theories among the learned
of those days.

In one of the pine-trees at the foot of one of these
threatening slopes we found a Raven's nest. This was at
the summit of the tree and strongly compacted of sticks,
and the deep hollow very thickly and comfortably lined
with red cow-hair. It contained five eggs, as did also another
nest not very far away. In the same forest was a Stork’s
nest on the extreme summit of one of the pine-trees, and
on it, against the sky, we could plainly see two young birds
and both the parents. These forest-building Storks are always
very shy, and much more difficult to approach than those
which frequent the towns and houses.

There was another nest in a large dead cork-tree not
far from the house, which overlooked a small muddy creek
or marsh, in which we generally noticed in passing many
Storks feeding, and an occasional Purple Heron or Egret.
Crawling into position one evening, and hiding among the
bracken, which was about six feet high, I had the treat of
watching a flock of about fifty Storks feeding. The great

birds solemnly stalked through the shallow pools, feeding

314 Pictures of Bird Life

like a flock of geese. Sometimes two of them would
quarrel and spar up to one another with their great red
beaks, making a great clattering.

In the midst of a patch of reeds between me and them I
saw the long thin neck and the bright eye of a Little Egret
looking warily around, as if to make sure there was no danger
near. Seeing nothing, it stepped slowly and gracefully into
the open, and commenced to feed. But suddenly all the
birds looked up, though I could neither see nor hear anything
to alarm them. All the Storks took to flight, and the Egret
retired into cover as quietly and noiselessly as he had emerged.
The stampede was presently explained by the sight of a
mounted herdsman, * garrocha” in hand, homeward bound.
A picturesque figure he looked, but a very unwelcome one
LOwme:

The herds of cattle are tended throughout the day by
mounted herdsmen, armed with a heavy iron-tipped club,
or with the * garrocha,” a kind of short, blunt lance. I never
knew the bulls to interfere with anybody. I have often
ridden through them and walked close past them, carrying
the camera, without attracting any unwelcome attentions.
But one evening, as Benitez and I were riding home. he
pulled up his mule suddenly and motioned me to stop,
saying “El toro” (the bull), as a small herd of cows and
‘alves, followed by a magnificent black-and-white — bull,
crossed the track a few yards in front of us. Whether this
particular bull was known to be of a bad character I do not

know, but on this occasion, at any rate, he trotted quietly

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 315

after his seraglio without deigning to take the slightest
notice of us.

On the level plains Bee-eaters were constantly to be
seen. Their modus operandi appears to be something similar
to that of the Flycatchers. Instead of keeping constantly

on the wing like the Swallows, they sit on some bare twig

Nest or Stitt (Himantopus candidus).

or branch, on the look-out for passing insects, and dash
out after them, returning either to the same or to some
other perch. Their burrows are to be found in banks such
as at the side of a river or road, and also on the level
ground. One day we borrowed a spade from a herdsman’s
cottage and dug out several holes. The soil was a very

light, sandy earth, covered with scanty turf. The burrows were

316 Pictures of Bird Life

about four feet long: and the egg-chamber—for they make no
nest, but lay four round, shining white eggs on the earth at
the end of the hole—was generally about two feet below the
surface. The holes may be easily found by the heap of freshly
excavated soil at the entrance, from the amount of which
a rough guess may be made of the length of the hole, and
whether it is worth digging out. Three or four of the
birds were caught in the burrows: two I released; the others,
on dissection, proved to be males.

Kneircled by the shallow water of the marismas are
numerous small islets, on which grow sometimes a scanty crop
of thistles and samphire. ‘To these desolate spots in the
month of May myriads of wading-birds resort to lay their
eges on the baked and sun-dried mud. In such places the
Pratincoles deposit their curiously coloured eggs under a tuft
of samphire or in the footprint of some horse or ox. They
are very rounded, and thickly spotted with rich, dark markings,
and have an almost velvety appearance, which makes them
utterly unlike the eggs of any other bird. There is no
attempt at any nest.

These birds have a habit of settling on the ground in
front of anybody. While riding, I have known twenty or
thirty of them to settle repeatedly in front of my _ horse,
rising with a strange cry on a close approach, and settling
again farther on, and repeating the performance over and over
again. On the dried mud they are practically invisible, unless
the white chest can be seen, for the upper parts are the exact

colour of the ground. The gape of the mouth is a bright sealing-

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 817

wax red. On May 4th they had just commenced to lay, and
a few days later we could have taken hundreds of their eggs.

In the tufts of samphire and coarse grass were many
Redshanks’ nests, and with these there was much more
attempt at concealment, the eggs being more or less hidden
by the canopy of green above them.

In company with the Redshanks were invariably many
Stilts, the two species nearly always being found together,
both while nesting and feeding. In their habits, too, they
are very similar, except that the Stilt is a much quieter
bird when breeding. I have seen with them none of the
noisy excitement which is so conspicuous when the breeding-
ground of Redshanks is invaded.

The Stilt is a particularly beautiful bird. As Seebohm
truly says, “they look the perfection of beauty and grace”;
and it was one of the most interesting experiences of this
expedition, to watch them running over the mud and wading
in the shallow water. They were exceedingly numerous—I
should say the most abundant species in this locality, so
prolific of bird life.

On May 38rd, before we had ridden more than a mile,
Manuele, who was riding somewhat in advance, pulled up
and hailed me with the shout, “Un nido” (a nest). On
reaching the spot, I saw my first Stilt’s nest. It was a
solid construction of tamarisk stalks and small twigs, built
up from the bottom of the water, about ten inches deep.
This was spangled with numerous delicate white blossoms

like water-crowfoot, and thinly grown over with a spiky

318 Pictures of Bird Life

grass or rush. It held four very richly coloured eggs,
pointed like Redshanks’.

After photographing the nest im situ, I attempted to
wait for the old bird; but there was no cover whatever,
and I did not sueceed—more especially as the three Spaniards

were riding about searching for more eggs. I could never

Nest oF Stitt (Humantopus candidus).

make them understand that the photographs were more
important than the eggs. The eggs were, I suppose, more
tangible objects to them, and they were certainly indefatigable
in assisting me to the utmost of their powers.

Curiously enough, this first nest was the only one seen
in the water. <All the others—and we found hundreds of

them—were on ‘the mud, and the nests were very much

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 319

slighter. In any small hollow in the sun-cracked surface
the birds would make a neat lining with a_ few stalks,
and on these the eggs would be laid. In one we found
five eggs, but four was the usual number. The nests were
always in small colonies, not necessarily close together, but
scattered over a limited area of ground.

The birds are tame and fairly easy to approach. When
mounted, you can ride close to them without their showing
any alarm; but they do not allow a man on foot to take
such liberties. However, if you remain quiet, they do not
mind coming quite close.

A male bird dissected by me had in its stomach some
green caterpillars. The measurements of this bird coincide
exactly with those recorded by Gilbert White of one shot

near Selborne :—

Total length, beak to tail . 13+ inches.
Beak 22,
Bare part of tibia 31 ;
Tarsus A sa3

Frequently, when exploring this waste of waters, we
would come on a colony of Whiskered and Black Terns,
nesting in company together. Overhead the birds would
gyrate, with the harsh scolding remonstrance usual with all
the Terns under similar circumstances. Seen thus from
below, the Whiskered Tern appears of a peculiar leaden
tinge.

Their nests are very slight, mere floating rafts of green

320 Pictures of Bird Life

rushes, laid flat on the water, so that the eggs are half
awash. These are of a decided green colour, very darkly and
richly spotted: and very pretty they look on their green
raft, surrounded by the white crowfoot blossoms. ‘Three eggs
are laid. The colour fades very much after the eggs have
been blown and kept a short time.

I dissected one male bird, and found in it an entire
green caterpillar, two inches long, and the remains of another
one. The irides of this bird were brown, the legs and feet
dark red.

The nests of the Black Terns, which were not nearly so
numerous as those of the larger species, were much more
solidly and substantially made, built up from the bottom,
and rising higher above the surface of the water.

Both the Caspian and Gull-billed Terns are recorded as
nesting in Spain, but no nests of either were met with.

Avocets, though they had been so numerous on the
Guadalquivir, were not met with at any distance away from
its banks, and appear to nest later than the other species.
I particularly enjoyed the opportunity of renewing acquaint-
ance with this charming wader, the most elegant of an
elegant family, whose dainty ways, graceful attitudes, and
beautiful plumage I had so much admired on my visit to
Holland the previous year.

While feeding on the mud-flats of the Guadalquivir, we
found Avocets.very tame and easy to approach. In the small
electric launch belonging to the yacht we could almost get

near enough to touch them with a boat-hook, as they ran

Froatinc Nesr or WHISKERED TERN (Hydrochelidon hybrida).

322 Pictures of Bird Life

over the shining surface of the tidal ooze. We noticed
that they constantly hop about on one leg, as if lame.

Until the close of our stay there appeared to be no
indications of their having begun to nest. In fact, not
before May 15th, the very last day I set foot in Spain,
did we find any of their eggs; and then it was quite at
the end of a long day’s search that Benitez called out to
me that he had at last found a nest. There were altogether,
in this spot of quite a limited area, about a dozen nests.
Most of them were made of the beautiful rosy feathers of
the Flamingoes. A large flock of these birds had been
feeding close to the spot, and numbers of their feathers
were lying about and floating on the water. This beautiful
and unique nesting material gave them a very striking and
effective appearance.

Only one nest contained four eggs, which was the
usual clutch in the Dutch nests; the rest of them held
but three. The eggs are somewhat larger than those’ of
the Stilt and Redshank, and are of a duller clay colour.
Numbers of the birds were wading in every direction, but
were not so easy of approach as those on the river-banks,
and I did not do much good with them.

The Flamingoes we had seen in the morning; but these
long-legged and long-necked fowl are exceedingly difficult
to approach. Wading slowly, in a crouching attitude, and
holding the muffled camera in‘ front, so as to appear as little
human as possible, I found it a matter of difficulty to get

within two hundred yards of their ranks. Any attempt to

“(DAS UOPYayIOAPA) NUIT NOVIG 4O ISAN
f P21] 9Y H N

B24 Pictures of Bird Life

decrease this distance invariably disturbed them, and after
the second such disturbance they left the place altogether.
It was a fine sight to see their serried lines break up in
confusion, with much flapping of thousands of scarlet wings,
and a great uproar of gageling voices.

One of the ambitions of the trip had been to photograph
a Flamingo on its nest, but this was doomed to disappoint-
ment. No sign of any nest did we see in the whole of
the immense district explored by us. The place where they
were met with was merely a feeding-place ; and if they were
nesting at all, it was certainly at a great distance—possibly
on the islands where the Guadalquivir divides its channels,
Isla Menor or Isla Mayor. They are, however, always very
late nesters. Chapman, who was the first to describe the
bird’s real nesting habits from personal observation, gives the
end of June, and says that in some years they do not breed
in Spain at all.

Vultures also were not met with so frequently as I had
expected. The Griffon breeds exclusively in the sierras,
but none were seen while on the wing in search of food,
in which search they range over an immense area at a high
altitude, until a carcase is discovered, when the descent of
one bird becomes the signal to all the other Vultures within
sight. The Egyptian Vulture was often seen, but not at
very close quarters.

On the wing this bird looks very grand, and its power
of flight is superb. Once I stalked one on the ground, using

the pack-mule as a ‘stalking-horse”: but the shutter of

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 325

my camera had become rusted from its having been blown
over into the water while photographing Herons, and I was
unable to work it. While tinkering at it, the bird flew off
slowly, and settled on a dead tree at a short distance. After
a long and careful stalk through the brushwood, it took

alarm long before anything like a close enough approach

Nest or Avocet (Recurvirostra avocetta) MADE OF FLAMINGOES’ FEATHERS.

had been made; and, to my surprise, it was followed by
seventeen others, which had been in the same tree, but
invisible through the bushes. This was the most intimate
acquaintance made with the Vultures during the whole of
our visit—much to my disappointment; for these large

birds, despite their repulsive habits, are, by their size and

326 Pictures of Bird Life

their picturesque appearance, interesting subjects for the
camera.

The hope of an opportunity of visiting some of the
breeding-places of both Griffons and Egyptian Vultures was
not realised, though both species breed in the sierras not far
from Gibraltar.

The Harriers, too, were a failure, though the sight of
an ‘“ Aguilucho” was a daily occurrence. Though always
on the look-out for a nest, and systematically beating
through in line’ several likely looking swamps, we never
succeeded in finding one. If at any time we marked down
a bird, it was only to find it had been regaling itself on
Purple Herons’ or Coots’ eggs.

In fact, none of the larger Hawks or raptorial birds
were found breeding, though we did get several clutches of
Kestrels’ eggs from old Kites’ nests, or rather what we took
to be Kestrels’. The birds, however, were not seen; and on
comparison with eggs of Kestrels taken in England, these
egos are decidedly smaller, and very round—some exceed-
ingly richly coloured, and others blotched with reddish over
a pale ground-colour. ‘They have been pronounced not to
be Lesser Kestrels’ by a competent authority. Possibly they
are Hobbies’; but, in the absence of identification of the
birds, they are not of much value or interest.

A pair of Peregrines were subsequently seen apparently
breeding in the cliffs near Coruna, though no nest could
be found. A Kestrel was also disturbed from a hole in

the cliff-face, which contained bones and pellets. These

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 827

cliffs would doubtless have rewarded a better and more
prolonged search if we had had more time to spare. As
it was, we only put in for two or three days on our run
home after leaving Lisbon.

In Lisbon we saw nothing ornithologically interesting.
A few Kites hovering over the Tagus, and an apparently
wild Stork in the Zoological Gardens, which flew down and
began to walk about the paths close to us in a most
familiar manner, were the only things seen.

The end of this most enjoyable expedition came all too
soon, but the memory of it will last for the rest of my life.
The only drawback to my complete enjoyment of such a
unique opportunity was that I was alone during the best
part of it—the stay in the marisma itself; and that the
health of my friend, whose guest I had been from England,
and to whose generous kindness I was indebted for the
whole of the expedition, would not permit him to leave his
yacht. Little did [ think that, after my return to England,
I should only see him once again.

Spain is a most interesting country for the naturalist,
and would well repay a much more prolonged trip. But
not many discoveries can be expected. It is ill gleaning
after such experienced workers as Chapman, Lord Lilford,
Colonel Irby, Howard Saunders, and the late Prince
Rudolf have been over the ground. And though so near
and easily reached, the conditions of life, away from the
hotels of the large towns, are entirely different from any-

thing that might be expected, and travellers ignorant of the

328 Pictures of Bird Life

country would probably find themselves very ill prepared for
roughing it among the wilds.

The heat in May was terrific, appearing to scorch through
my clothes, and even through my boots. We never stirred
out without a large earthenware jar, or chattie, in the pack-

saddles, full of water. In spite of this, I have often been

GREY SHRIKE (Lanius meritdionalis).

glad of a drink from the store of a charcoal-burner or

herdsman.
No wonder the natives look so dried up and _ copper-
coloured. The little blood left in their veins by the

mosquitoes must be entirely parched up by the intense and
fiery heat of the long summer months—a heat which com-
pletely dries up the water from the whole of an immense

area. With the exception of the deeper lagoons, what was

Bird Life in the Spanish Marismas 329

up to March a vast inland sea becomes in time an arid
desert. Leagues of tawny mud stretch to the horizon,
unbroken by tree or shrub, and baked by the heat into
the hardness of brick.

The natives suffer very much from fever, but the popula-
tion is exceedingly scanty. ‘These consist of a few ‘ guardas ”
to protect the red-deer, wild boars, and other game of the
“cotos~: some herdsmen in charge of the herds of semi-wild
horses and cattle; and a shifting gypsy-like population of
charcoal-burners and timber-fellers, who live in huts made
of pine-boughs, grass, and mud. These huts they will erect
inaday. I have passed in the evening an inhabited hut of
this description where there was none in the morning.

The Spanish peasant, whether herdsman, charcoal-burner,
or what not, is a very good fellow and a keen sportsman,
with the manners of a gentleman; and I thoroughly enjoyed
my stay among them.

Life in the marismas is enjoyable enough during the
day, but the ardent ornithologist has to pay for his pleasure
at night. Then the hosts of mosquitoes come forth in their
thousands and take their revenge. I have met mosquitoes
in various parts of the world, and thought they were bad
enough in the West Indies and in Newfoundland, but never
have I seen them in such numbers or of such bloodthirsty
ferocity. Towards the end of the time they were daily,
or rather nightly, getting worse, until the only way to get
any sleep at all was to muffle my head in a puggaree

sufficiently porous to breathe through, and to draw my

330 Pictures of Bird Life

stockings over my arms. ‘That puzzled them, but the heat
was simply awful. The first necessary of life in this region
is mosquito-curtains, the second being perhaps a horse.

Is not this the country where a “man” and a * horseman ”

are synonymous—a land of * caballeros ”

Bel SGM, OIL OEE o%
hopeaeaae sneraner nse 8% CAE APO AE

en iabeainentony mer

DisTANT VIEW OF FLAMINGOES IN THE MARISMA.

WHITE StTorK (Ciconia alba).

CHAPTER X
Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fjord

For many years, to visit Denmark, and to see for myselt
some of the episodes of marsh bird life, as described by
Seebohm, has been a_ great but impossible ambition.
This year, however (1903), the wish has been at last
fulfilled; and though I did not actually see the Tarm
marshes described by him, yet I rather fancy I must have
gone over some of the ground visited by him in_ the
immediate neighbourhood. Since his time, however, things
have altered somewhat, and fresh restrictions have been
made, by which a Government permit is necessary before
one is allowed even to set foot on the best part of the

ground.

332 Pictures of Bird Life

The fact is that these restrictions have arisen in con-
sequence of the unreasonable looting of eggs by English
visitors, and, the place belonging to the Danish Government,
it has been constituted a national preserve, owing to the
representations by Danish ornithologists, who became alarmed
at such systematic robbery. From what I can see, how-
ever, these restrictions either do not apply to natives or
are more difficult to enforce
in their case, for both shoot-
ing and taking of eggs are
done with more or less im-
punity on their part. And
it must be remembered that
in many cases the doings of
visitors, especially foreign
visitors, are often exaggerated
by the natives to serve their

Oowll Purposes.

After due consultation of

authorities and maps, and

and

obtaining the necessary permission, my friend J
myself left London on May 4th, arriving at Esbjerg early
on May 6th.

All this west coast of Jutland is extremely barren, and
the scenery monotonous in the extreme. Travelling orni-
thologists, however, can always find beauties in the most
arid and desolate countries, as long as they are not quite

devoid of bird life, and even travelling by train is not

Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fjord 333

quite lost time. By keeping a good look-out, it is won-
derful what a lot one may see from the train-window.
One does not have to go far in Denmark to discover
what immense numbers of Skylarks there are in every
direction. The songs of innumerable Larks are incessant
the whole day.

The next discovery is the great abundance of the White
Stork. It is far and away more numerous here than in
Holland,
where it is
not by any
means so
universally to
be found as
is popularly
supposed.
Here, how-

€ver—or, at

all events,

BuntinG (Emberiza militaria).

throughout

Jutland—nearly every farmhouse (and, outside the towns,
almost every house is a farmhouse) has a place reserved on
the gable-end of its thatched roof for a Stork’s nest.
Besides these, there are in the towns also very many nests
on the house-roofs: and to see the stately form of a White
Stork frog-hunting in the meadows close to the street is so
common that it ceases to be noticeable.

To give some idea of their numbers, it may be

334 Pictures of Bird Life

mentioned that on the barns and outbuildings belonging to
the house of a Danish nobleman there were, at the time
of our visit, no fewer than twenty occupied nests of the
White Stork. Most interesting it was to see so many of
these great, handsome birds standing on their nests, and
flying overhead with great beaksful of dry grass to line
them with, or carrying a bonne-bouche in the shape of a fine
fat frog for their wives, busily engaged in family duties.

Another bird almost as much favoured by the Danes
is the Starling. Nearly every house, and even many of
the railway-stations, put out bird-boxes for their accommo-
dation. Some had a small house, with painted windows and
doors and red chimneys, mounted on a pole outside; while
the larger houses sometimes provided free lodgings for sixty
or a hundred pairs of Starlings, with a separate entrance-
hole and a perch outside for each pair. It was very funny
to see rows and rows of Starlings all jabbering away at
once, like so many old women.

Driving along the sandy roads of Jutland, a very con-
spicuous bird is the Common Bunting. Uttering its simple
and monotonous song while perched on the telephone- and
telegraph-wires at the roadside, a Bunting is passed so
frequently that one begins to think it the commonest bird
in| Denmark.

Another roadside bird is the Crested Lark: but it
seems actually to prefer the village street to the country
road, and here it runs about under one’s feet close to the

houses in the familiar way one expects from a Sparrow

Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fiord 335

rather than a Lark. The crest is most conspicuous, being
carried as a rule very upright; and the bird is a striking
and interesting one on first acquaintance.

On one by-day, when it was almost too windy to set
up a camera, I walked about three or four miles on

purpose to see something of the Crested Lark, and cer-

STOWING THE CAMERAS IN THE Boar.

tainly did see a few birds, but quite failed in discovering
any nest. On reaching the small village inn, however, where
we were staying, there were two Crested Larks running
about the road just in front of the door; and I really
believe, if I had stayed in, I might have been able to
photograph them out of my window.

336 Pictures of Bird Life

On first arrival in Jutland, to our great disappointment
we saw at once that we were nearly a fortnight too early.
An exceptionally late and cold spring had so delayed
matters that some of the birds had only just arrived, and
had barely commenced to nest, the first days work only
resulting in finding a few Redshanks’ and Peewits’ eggs.

The fjord, which runs inland for nearly thirty miles
through a narrow entrance, is very shallow and = studded
with numerous islets only a few inches above high water,
and surrounded by sand-dunes and salt marshes. It is
an ideal spot for Terns, Gulls, Plovers, and marsh-birds
generally, and is in- springtime resorted to by many
thousands of birds, which find here a congenial spot in
which to nest and bring up their young broods. Running
down under sail in a small boat belonging to one of the
fishermen—who spoke, by the way, excellent English—we
found, on May 7th, that, if eggs were scarce, the birds
themselves were present in immense numbers. — Field-
glasses in hand, we were hard at work identifying the
various species. Our destination was some distant islands
up the fjord, to reach which necessitated, after sailing six
or eight miles, walking over a marshy promontory, carrying
the cameras (four miles each way), and then wading to
the islands in question, where we hoped to find the birds
a little more advanced than on the mainland. On _ our
way we saw numbers of Kentish and Ringed Plovers on
the shingly shores and sandy islets. Wading in the shallow

water were numerous Avocets, Redshanks. and Dunlins ;

Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fiord SBy/

and overhead were countless Arctic, Lesser, and Sandwich
Terns, and Black-headed, Common, Lesser Black-backed, and
Herring Gulls. In the distance, magnified and distorted by
the mirage, which plays such curious pranks with the sight
in these shallow, sandy seas, were immense flocks of Brent

Geese. and smaller ones of Scoters. Terns sat on all the

Nests oF SanpwicH TERN (Sferna cantaca).

stakes of the salmon-nets which bar the passage in every
direction the whole length of the fjord, and Pintails and
other Ducks flew past in the distance.

After landing, our progress across the marsh was
accompanied by a perfectly incessant babel of harsh and
angry protests from thousands of indignant birds. Circling

338 Pictures of Bird Life

Redshanks, with their * Tip-tip,” the Avocets’ * Whit-whit-
whitter-whitter-whitter,” and the ‘* Kree-ee” of thou-
sands of ‘Terns gyrating unceasingly overhead, would make
anybody think that the whole marsh was full of their
eggs. But not a bit of it; there was hardly an egg to
be seen. A few Redshanks’ nests held one and two eggs,
and the others were almost without exception empty.
Many Dunlins
in pairs ran
about in their
usual tame and
familiar man-
ner only a few
yards away,
but had not
even then
begun to nest.

Some days

later we found

numbers of

Nest or Pintait (Dafila acuta).

nests “ike

Redshanks’, each in a small tuft of grass, only very much

smaller; but they had not begun to lay when we left.

Blue-headed Wagtails were also numerous, and they also
had apparently not begun to nest.

The walking was bad—soft and_ slippery mud, bright

yellow in colour from the iron, I believe, when undis-

turbed, but black as ink when trodden on. The whole

Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fjord 339

marsh was intersected with creeks, some shallow, others
much deeper, all of which had to be waded; so that by
degrees we got wetter and wetter. We had _ started
carrying a pair of wading-trousers; but between two of

us it would have taken a week to have crossed that

Nest or Avocet (Recurvirostra avocetta).

marsh dry, so we put them down half-way to be picked
up on our return, and from being wet up to our knees
we were soon wading up to our waists, off to the island
we had come to investigate.

The first island, a narrow strip about a hundred yards

long, as my friend tersely expressed it, “fairly stank of

340 Pictures of Bird Life

birds ~ that peculiar smell so familiar to both of us,
which is so noticeable wherever large numbers of sea-birds
are nesting im a confined space. At each end was a
strong colony of Sandwich ‘Terns. ‘Their extremely hand-
some eges were thickly scattered over the ground, so close
together that I was able, a few days later, to photograph
fifteen nests on one whole plate, in doing which I broke
several eges by treading on them. ‘The eggs were curiously
different (in no case were there more than two eggs in a
nest); but in very many instances one egg would be heavily
blotched or zoned round with dark markings, while the
other was uniformly spotted all over. There were three
very handsomely marked eggs, but in each case they were
odd, not matching the other egg.

On approaching the island, the Terns rose en masse in
the air, and hung like a dense cloud over their nests,
returning to them as soon as we moved on a little. There
were two or three Avocets’ nests, with four eggs each: and
a colony of Black-headed Gulls, each with three eggs.

This island seemed to verify our expectation that the
islands would be earlier than the mainland, and we deter-
mined to go off to the second island, rather a larger one.
It was a good long way round, however, and we had to
negotiate some deep creeks on our way. Half-way we saw
a big lot of Ruffs on a hill, evidently just arrived; but,
unfortunately, two men with guns were working up to them,
and afterwards we heard them fire several times.

By this time we had waded off to the other island,

Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fjord 341

where soon after landing we found a small colony of
Avocets’ nests, with three and two eggs in each, a few
with four, and a Redshank’s nest or two. After which,
a low range of sandhills, covered with dry curly grass,

raised our expectations; for J—— said at once it exactly

Biack-TAILED Gopwit (Limosa belgica) AND NEsv.

answered Chapman's description of where he found the Pin-
tail breeding. We gave it, therefore, a close and thorough
search, and had not proceeded far when I saw at my feet
a Duck's nest, the eggs in which, ten im number, were
entirely hidden and covered over with down.

This was a puzzle. We expected Pintails’ nests, and

342 Pictures of Bird Life

the eggs and down appeared to be Pintails’; but without
seeing the birds we felt we had no proof. Luckily a
few steps farther I put a duck off her nest of twelve
eges, which appeared to be a Pintail, though I could not
be quite certain she was not a Shoveller; and close at hand
was yet another nest, apparently deserted, with a broken

egg, three nests, all close together, with the same type

’

of egge and the same down. But, to make quite certain,
J . who had waded a deep creek on ahead, put off another
duck from a nest, an unmistakable Pintail, which was
joined by a Pintail drake, which had been seen about ;
and the two went off together. As all the eggs were alike,
we now felt quite satisfied that they were really Pintails,
and were rather pleased with our luck.

The worst of it was that I now wanted badly the
whole-plate camera, which our boatman had carried, while
I had the tele-photo lens and another camera. The said
boatman had left us in the lurch, and was calmly lying
down a mile away, on the other side of a deep creek,
which had baulked him. Instead of a whole-plate photo-
graph, which was wanted to do justice to a nest like a
Pintail’s, I had to make the best of a quarter-plate, by
substituting a short-focus lens I had with me for the
tele-photo lens in the bird-camera. I was rather sore over
this, and took care to let our man know how he had hindered
us: but he was afterwards so willing, and always so ready
to help and obliging, that I easily forgave him.

Our return home, against a bitterly strong head-wind,

Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fiord 343

was an unpleasant experience in our saturated condition.
We did not reach our inn until late that evening, in a
wretched state—wet, cold, and more or less miserable; and
we must have presented a funny appearance on our way
from the boat to our headquarters. Two mad Englishmen
enjoying themselves in their own peculiar way was probably
the opinion of the natives.

Rurr (Machetes pugnax).

This wetting and exposure brought on, a few days
later, a bad attack of rheumatism, for the first time in my
life; and I was compelled to wear wading-trousers for the
remainder of my visit. And walking even such a distance
as seven or eight miles, which was the minimum, in wet
wading-trousers and heavy brogues, carrying a big load
of cameras, is very hard and slow work, especially as it had

to be done on one leg, the other being practically useless.

344 Pictures of Bird Life

These two days convinced us that our best plan was
to go off to a distant forest, to the proprietor of which
we had introductions, and return in two or three days,
by which time we hoped that some of the other birds
would have begun to lay.

After an interval of four days, we revisited both these
islands, finding many more eggs in them, and a few on
the mainland. The patch of grass on the second island
was then full of nests, but even then many were still
empty.

On May 11th a Reeve was flushed from her nest of
four eggs, and a Black-tailed Godwit’s nest was found with
three poimted eges of a greenish brown: the first I had
seen—as in Holland, where these birds are very common
in the meadows, I had always been too late for eggs.

On the 13th another Reeve’s was found, also with four
egos, in the same patch; and the same day a second nest
of the Black-tailed Godwit, with four eggs, was seen on the
mainland on short grass, on which the nest and eggs were
as open as a Lapwing’s nest.

The marsh now held a fair number of nests, Avocets
and Redshanks chiefly, with full clutches of eggs. Here
also we got two nests of the Common Gull, with two eggs
each. These were on the ground at the edge of a broad
creek, studded with numbers of circular islands of turf,
on which the Gulls were sitting about: but though I
waded out to nearly all of them, no more nests were to

be tound.

Bird Life in Denmark—On the Fiord B45

Some of the little sandy islands in the fjord by now
began to have a few eggs—Ringed Plovers’ and Arctic
Terns’ and a few Black-headed Gulls’.

On a long day’s work the question of food is a diffi-

culty. With so many photographic things to carry, the

Nest oF Common GuLt (Larus canus).

supplies were cut down to the minimum, and no drinkables
were taken at all. At the same time, the work is ex-
hausting, and one’s appetite is apt to become insatiable. I
was often glad to devour raw the eggs of Gulls, Redshanks,
and Terns, and found them very refreshing indeed.

Towards the end of our stay the numbers of birds

B46 Pictures of Bird Life

seemed daily on the increase, and we could see that a little
later all this neighbourhood would be indeed a * paradise
for ornithologists.”

Many thousands of Brent Geese still lingered, postponing
their departure for their Arctic breeding-grounds. The
whole expanse of marsh traversed by us was covered with
the evidence of their recent abundance. It resembled, in
fact, a huge farmyard, and it was difficult to find a clean
spot large enough to sit down on. The fishermen in the
autumn and winter shoot great numbers of them from
hiding-places, in which they lay prone on the watch. I
heard of one man having killed twenty-one wild Swans from
one of these in one day last autumn.

The place is evidently a favoured resort of birds the
whole year round. As soon as the summer visitors depart
with their families, their place is taken by winter birds

which have spent the summer in distant northern latitudes.

CHEAP TBR Xl
Bird Life in Denmark—In the Forest

Nor the least pleasant of our experiences in Denmark
was the visit to a certain forest under the guidance of the
owner. Armed with introductions, we had called on him one
morning early in May, 1903, after telegraphing our intended
arrival the night before, in the hope that he would let us
have the freedom of the forest in charge of a keeper or
forester for a couple of days. We had not reckoned, how-
ever, on Danish hospitality. Though our telegram had not
been received, we were welcomed with the utmost geniality
and kindness, and pressed to stay for at least a week. In
the meantime our luggage was sent for from the station ;
and after a good dinner, to which we were able to do ample
justice after our long journey, our host drove us over himself
to the forest.

On the way thither we saw a Lapwing drive off a passing
Raven from the vicinity of her nest, in spite of the angry,
barking protests of the sable marauder ; and we had barely
entered the outskirts of the forest when we saw a Buzzard
leave a spruce-fir on the summit of a small hill.

Then, leaving the carriage, we were taken a short distance

347

348 Pictures of Bird Life

to the last year’s nest of a Kite, near to which was a fresh
nest in a beech-tree. This nest, however, had palpably
been climbed to, and we did not trouble to ascend. Leaning
against. the beech was a felled spruce-fir, on which boot-
marks could plainly be seen all the way up. Subsequent
events showed that this suspicion was only too true, and
we were able eventually to open the eyes of the owner
to what had been going on in his forest, probably for years,
without his knowledge or permission. His foresters had
been tempted to take the eggs of the rarer birds, breeding
in the forest under their charge, and sell them to a dealer
in. Copenhagen.

I had hoped to have been able to obtain some Kites’
eges to help. restock the hills of Wales, where the last
pair of Kites in England are now lingering. ‘The idea was
to put a clutch of fresh Kite’s eggs in a Buzzard’s nest,
as this bird is still fairly plentiful in Wales, and their eggs
and habits are very similar. I was quite unprepared to
find that the Kites in this remote Danish forest were in
much the same plight as the Welsh Kites, and from the
same cause. The greed of egg-collectors and dealers has
much to answer for in exterminating rare birds. For when
once a bird begins to get scarce and its eggs to be in
demand, the systematic robbery of them year after year
for the dealers soon ends in extermination, as it gives them
no chance of recovering.

Far more important than the Kite’s nest in an orni-

thological sense was the nest of a Black Stork. This was

Nest or Brack Srork (Ciconta nigra),

350 Pictures of Bird Life

also empty, probably robbed, as was a Buzzard’s nest close
to it:

There was a second nest of the Black Stork not very
far from the first, belonging to the same pair of birds. This
also was empty: and our theory was that, the first clutch
of eggs having been taken, the birds had nested again, but

had not yet had time to lay again. This second nest was

Nest oF Brack SrorK (Ciconia nigra).

half-way up a very large beech, in a fork on the main trunk.
The first nest was at the extremity of some horizontal boughs
of a small beech-tree, and was not more than twenty feet
from the ground, overhanging the hollow of a hillside. The
ground was covered with a russet layer of last year’s leaves,
and the trees were just beginning to open out into leaf,

and were clothed sparingly in the brightest of green.

Bird Life in Denmark—In the Forest 351

aie nest
was a rough
flat platform of
sticks, lined, as
was also the
other nest, with
a layer of soft
green moss.
On visiting the
spot the second
day, we were
fortunate
enough to see
enue of the
Black Storks
soaring on
broad wings
over the valley,

where it made

a most impres-

GivInGc A Back uP A TREE,

sive picture.

This was the first Black Stork ever seen by either of us in
a wild state, this bird being of extremely shy and _ solitary
habits, and entirely restricted to the most remote and
secluded forests in Europe, and is nowhere an abundant and
familiar bird like the White Stork, which simply swarms
in Denmark, nesting abundantly both in the towns and on

the farmhouses.

352 Pictures of Bird Life

Some of the beech-trees in this forest, especially
those in the sheltered valleys, were of enormous. size, and
extremely difficult to climb, owing to the growth of moss
and lichen which encrusted their trunks. This comes off
directly it is grasped, and we found any swarming simply
impossible. One immense tree defied our utmost efforts,
though there was a Buzzard’s nest nearly at the top. We
spent an hour in unavailing efforts to throw a rope over the
lower branches, and were finally compelled to give it up.
Unfortunately we had omitted to bring any climbing-irons.
The whole time we were there the two Buzzards were
suling round in circles, and the hillsides resounded with
their plaintive, mewing cries. After some time a Goshawk,
which proved to be nesting in the vicinity, dashed out in
pursuit, and with sharp and angry cry and menacing atti-
tude fairly drove away for a while the Buzzards from the
neigbourhood of their own nest.

This Goshawk’s nest we afterwards visited, and found it
empty. It had also been robbed: for we saw the egg—
destined for Copenhagen with the rest. The culprit in this
business was the son of the head forester, who, born and
bred in the forest, could climb like any cat.

No wonder the larger birds are getting scarce,—the
Black Storks reduced to one or, at the most, two pairs for
the whole of Denmark, the Sea-eagle to one pair, and
the Kites, Ospreys, and Goshawks gradually diminishing
in numbers; for Denmark has few extensive forest districts,

except on some of the numerous islands.

SNE, i
SSSA

“4 mk ; ge \s
Way , pTLA

Nest or Buzzarp (Luteo vulgaris)

B54 Pictures of Bird Life

A Raven's nest, which probably contained young, we did
not trouble to go up to; and one of several Hooded Crows’
contained five sat-on eggs—other nests being empty and
holding young birds: ugly, uncanny-looking little wretches
they were too. The Hoodie is here extremely abundant
and very familiar. Though so shy and wary when in
Kngland during the winter months, here, in Denmark, the
Hoodies nest along the roadsides, sometimes in_ ridiculously
small trees; and round the farmhouses, in the little belt
of trees which serve as a shelter from the cold winds,
there is generally a nest of either the Magpie or Hooded
Crow. In every direction the bird’s burly figure is a con-
spicuous object in the landscape—that is, in the wooded
parts. Some parts of Denmark, particularly in West Jutland,
are almost devoid of trees; and there the Hooded Crow is
not to be seen.

Two days, or really two half-days, were not enough for
this most interesting forest. We saw a good deal in the
time, considering how short it was; but a week would not
have been too much to do justice to it. However, our
short stay in Denmark—ten days—would not allow us to
stop any longer, and we were compelled reluctantly to tear
ourselves away all too soon, leaving many things unvisited.
Kagle-owls, for instance, nest here—probably some of the
smaller Owls also; but we saw nothing of them. In_ the
foresters house we saw a stuffed Nutcracker and Gyrfalcon,
but ascertained that these had been shot in the winter.

There were also many heads of roe- and red-deer, with a

Bird Life in Denmark—In the Forest 355

picturesque group
of guns, rifles, and
couteaux-de-
chasses. The horns,
however, seemed
small. Foxes,
badgers, and hares
are also fairly
common.

In another fifty
years or less Den-
mark will be
covered with for-
ests of spruce-fir.
All the sandy and
barren waste-land
is being extensively
planted in every
direction by the
Government. This
far - seeing policy
should make a
great difference to
the country; for
much of it is at
present perfectly

unproductive, and

incapable of grow-

Nest or GosHawk (Astur palumbarius).

356 Pictures of Bird Life

ing anything better than coarse grass and low shrubs—such
as sallows or willows a few inches high.

On some of the hillsides, exposed to the prevailing
westerly winds, trees were seen with every appearance of
great age, but most curiously stunted and deformed from
the constant struggle with the elements. Some were blown
pertectly flat against the hillside, so that nowhere were they
more than a foot above the ground, and not more than ten
or fifteen feet in length. It is impossible to imagine a
more eloquent testimony to the bleak nature of the country

during the greater part of the year.

CHAPTER XII

A Week in Derbyshire

AN invitation from an enthusiastic ornithologist to spend a
few days under his guidance among the birds of Derbyshire
was too good a chance to miss, and accordingly one day
early in June, 1903, I stepped out of the train, and found my
friend waiting for me, with the intelligence that he thought
he could take me to a Tufted Duck’s nest that afternoon.
After a hasty meal, off we started to some large ponds
about three miles away; and sure enough, on nearing our
destination, a pair or two of these ducks were seen about
the neighbourhood of a small island. Having on our way
procured the key of the boathouse from the keeper, we
soon found ourselves afloat in a small and remarkably crank
boat, in shape not unlike a tub. Shoving our craft in
between the overhanging alder-branches, we stepped out
very gingerly, for caution was much needed to avoid
capsizing. We commenced our search among the dry grass
which covered the small island, each of us taking one side
till we met again, having found nothing but a fine specimen
of a Coots nest, a bulky mass of sticks at the base of an
alder-tree a couple of feet out in the water. As we felt

357

358 Pictures of Bird Life

convinced the Duck's nest was there, notwithstanding our

failure to discover it, we went round again; and this time

with better success, for J at last found it right under the
stem of the boat. If we had driven her ashore a little

farther, we must have smashed every egg. The nest was

Nest oF Coot (Futlica atra).
N F ( t (Fuli t

quite concealed under a tuft of dry grass, and contained

eight eggs, with very little down. For the size of the
Tufted Duck, her eggs are distinctly large—appreciably

larger than the eggs of the Pintail we had found but a
few weeks before together in Jutland, though the Pintail

must be a far heavier bird.

A Week in Derbyshire 359

On another pond on the same estate we saw quite
four pairs of Tufted Ducks, which were doubtless nesting
on some small islands round which they were swimming :
but there being no boat, we did not investigate farther.

A pair of Sandpipers were seen on a grassy bank at
the end of the lake, but our search for the nest was fruitless.
So late in the season, there was a probability of their having
been hatched. However, next day I was able to photograph
a nest of these interesting little birds. Snugly hidden under
a drooping leaf, the nest was by no means easy to find;
but with the richly spotted pear-shaped eggs it made a
pretty picture beneath the tall burdocks, which must appear
a veritable forest to the slender forms of the Sandpipers.
Such plants afford excellent covert, of which these birds
are very fond of availing themselves, more especially as they
grow luxuriantly along the edges of these Derbyshire rivers,
and on the small islands which are the favourite resort of
the Sandpipers. They are charming little birds, whose
acquaintance I had long much desired to make, and_ their
wild, shrill note is a fit accompaniment to the lovely scenes
amid which they are so exclusively found.

One day was spent in a large wood on an estate which
had been neglected in the way of game preservation, and
was in consequence better stocked than usual with Hawks
and Owls and other birds not usually allowed to exist by
keepers. A Kestrel’s nest was one inducement for the long
tramp, but unfortunately it was found impossible to photo-

graph it. The situation was remarkable. On the summit

360 Pictures of Bird Life

of a steep hill, covered with bracken and oak-trees, up whose
slippery slopes we toiled in a breathless condition, were two
bold and isolated pinnacles of rock, and in a crevice half-
way up the perpendicular face of one of these peaks the
Kestrels had five eges. But J , who had descended it by a
rope, reported the eggs perfectly out of sight, quite at arm’s-
length down a very narrow fissure—evidently not within
the range of possibility for a photograph, and an attempt
at a view of the rock was not entirely a success.

The wooded sides of the hills were full of Wood-wrens ;
and as the nest of this bird was wanted badly, we tried to
watch the female bird to it. But in vain; for while the

hen was plaintively whining in the tree-top overhead, among

Turtep Duck (Fuligula cristata).

‘(vppjsiia vNsYN.) MONG AILAN]T, AO ISaN

362 Pictures of Bird Life

whose luxuriant foliage it was by no means easy to see the
slender form, thousands of bloodthirsty midges made our
lives a burden to us below, and finally we gave up the
attempt.

Passing a large pond surrounded by a_ perfect jungle
of undergrowth and large trees, we were attracted by the
wild note of the Dipper ; and on field-glasses being directed
to the spot, we could see the white breast of a Dipper
on a stump at the farther end. Examination of a damp
moss-grown wall by a small waterfall soon revealed the
nest, amid a tangle of pendent vegetation. From the damp-
ness of the situation, the moss, of which the nest was
composed, was quite green and fresh-looking—in fact, it had
sprouted, and grass was growing on the top of it. It held
young birds nearly fledged. The nest, though so large, is
very easily passed over unnoticed by an inexperienced eye.
It is particularly solid and thickly felted together, the
heavy penthouse-looking roof overhanging the cup-like
receptacle, which holds the eggs. The following day, in
lovely Dovedale, we were fortunate in finding a late clutch
of eggs, pure white and very pointed, but only four in
number, though they were hard sat on—in all probability
a second laying. This nest was on the rock-face, about
eight feet from the surface of the water, which swirled
below over a small weir of moss-grown stones. In close
proximity were two old and disused nests, all amid tufts
of dandelions and tassels of hanging grass, among which

the nests were very inconspicuous from the farther bank.

Nest of Common Sanppiper (Totanus hypoleucus).

364 Pictures of Bird Life

The bird here was very uneasy about our presence ; and
after flitting up and down, actually went into the nest

while we were watching it, remaining in all the time I

Nest oF Dipper (Ciclus aguaticus),.

was wading the river, and only left it at last while I was
getting the camera into position below her. The white

breast of the bird is a very conspicuous object among

A Week in Derbyshire 365

the stones and boulders, and is visible from a considerable

Nesr or Dipper (Cinclus aquaticus) 1N A TREE-STUMP.

distance. The flight is very Kingfisher-like, swift and arrowy,
with quick beats of the short rounded wings.

Its chosen haunts are certainly the loveliest and most

366 Pictures of Bird Life

picturesque spots to be found in’ Britain, being restricted
as they entirely are to the wild rocky glens and dales
of Devonshire, Derbyshire, Wales, Yorkshire, and the North.
In such places the Dipper is a resident, living amid the
switl and dash of the running stream and the spray of the
waterfall, in company with the Sandpiper and the Kingfisher.

Bridges possess a great attraction for the Dipper, and
I was shown one nest among the tron girders which
supported a small roadside bridge, close to the village.
Overhanging banks and amid the roots of trees are also
probable sites for their nests.

While I was engaged in photographing one nest on an
old tree-stump overhanging a small islet, just below the
junction of the Dove and the Manifold, my friend was
seated on the bank watching with his Goerz prismatic
glass a Sandpiper, which was calling on the farther bank
between sixty and a hundred yards away. It says a good
deal for the power of this glass that he was able, at such
a distance, to watch such a slender form as a crouching
Sandpiper creep through the long grass and finally settle
on her nest. Walking round to the nearest bridge a quarter
of a mile downstream, we came back up the opposite bank
and went right to the nest, from which the bird flew. It
contained three young birds and an egg on the point of
hatching.

Another bird which haunts these rocky streams is the
Grey Wagtail, the most elegant, perhaps, of a particularly

elegant family. It may be distinguished from the other

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368 Pictures of Bird Life

Wagtails by the greater length of its tail. Under the glass
the Grey Wagtail is of quite exceptional beauty ; but it
breeds early, and I did not meet with any nests.

Among the rocky towers and pinnacles which overhang
Dovedale, and add so much to its beauty, Kestrels breed
in comparative safety. Climbing on hands and knees up a
narrow gorge in search of their nest, we heard some young
Kestrels chatter loudly, as one of the parents sailed round
into view; and though they were evidently, from the sound,
quite close to us, shut in as we were between two rock-
walls, it was impossible to locate exactly the position of the
nest. We worked our way up to the top, coming down on
the other side of the most probable rock, but failed to
discover it. In all probability we should have been unable,
without a rope, to ascend the extra twenty or thirty feet
which separated us from the nest. Jackdaws also clustered
round the rocks, some of which resemble spires, while others
take the semblance of ruined towers: and over the valleys
may nearly always be seen the sable form of a Carrion-
crow.

In the caves at the entrance to Dovedale from Miull-
dale, known as the Doveholes, a pair of Dippers have
for many years nested in security from any human foes;
for their chosen retreat is in a chimney-like aperture in
the roof of the largest cave, quite out of all reach.

My friend’s’ garden, as befits an ardent ornithologist.
was well fitted up with bird-boxes, mostly inhabited by

Starlings, Great its, and the usual inhabitants of such

A Week in Derbyshire 369

retreats. The Starlings and Blackbirds regard this garden
as their own private estate: and while they tolerate with
more or less equanimity the presence of the occupier and
his family, they resented my appearance with a camera in
quite outrageous language.

While a Chiff-chaff’s nest near the ground in one corner
was being photographed, the hen bird went in freely to
feed her young within a yard or two of the camera. All
the time her husband “chipped” vigorously overhead, but
appeared to leave all the work to his wife. Two pairs of
Flycatchers built on the house, and another nest was placed
on the hinge of an outhouse door. Both were in such
awkward positions for the camera that my attempts were

spoilt by insufficient exposure.

INDEX

Africa, 175, 184, 266
= South,
Algeciras, 276
Almoraima, 276
America, 182
Andalucia, 266, 272
Arctic Circle, 184
Artistic beauty of birds, 54
Ashford stand, 37
Asia, 182
Auk, Little, 182
Automatic photography by
12, 24-35, 244, 246, 248
Avocet in Denmark, 336, 338
in Norfolk, 207
nesting in Denmark, 340, 341
in Holland, 260
in marisma, 320, 322
on Guadalquivir, 284, 293
Baits, 31, 32
Barbarity of pole-trap, 148
272, 278, 315, 316

Z2(Z, 2

Bee-eater,

Bittern, 207, 224, 256, 311
Little, 311

Blackbird, 49, 62-64, 122, 276

Blackcap, 85

Bonanza, 294

Bramblefinch, 116

Bray, 176

Breydon Broad, 207

Broxbourne, 89, 100

Buekland, Frank, 9

Bullfineh, 53, 116, 159

electricity,

Bunting, Corn- or Common, 116, 334
Lapland, 181]

Reed-, 118, 119, 222
Siberian Meadow-, 104
Yellow, 118

Great, 12, 207, 268

- Little, 207

Butcher-bird, 33

Bustard,

Cadett plates, 38
Camera, electric, 37
reflecting, 37
Cambridgeshire, 223
Castings. Kestrels’, 150
Owls’, 147, 149

2D)

Canvey Island,
Caton-Haigh, Mr., 182

Chaffinch, 110, 111, 276

Chapman, Mr. Abel, 108, 324, 327, 341
Chickens as bait for Kestrels, 150
Chiff-chaff, 45, 88, 89, 369

| Chili, 184

Climbing, 42, 204, 286, 352, 368
Climbing-irons, 42, 352
Coot at Gibraltar, 275

in Derbyshire, 357

in Enfield, 163

in Holland, 231, 232, :

in Lincolnshire, 224

in Norfolk, 222

in Spain, 307
Concealing camera, 29
Condemnation of killing, 9
Cordeaux, Mr., 86, 106, 148, 182

Index

Cormorant, 197, 203, 204

Corncrake, 163

Copenhagen, 348

Crane, 12, 268

Creeper, Tree-, 108

Crow, Carrion-, 65, 123, 150, 156, 172, 368
:, Hooded or Grey, in Enfield, 124

re 55 of nesting in Jut-
land, 354
=: s on the Wash, 178,

179
Ze re 35 photographing, 31
Cuckoo, 32, 65, 91, 142-145
“ American, 144
5, Great Spotted, 142, 303
a in Spain, 278
ss migrating, 107
3 nests favoured by, 144
ce young, 144, 145
:» powerful note of, 132
Curlew, 171, 175, 179, 293
; Eskimo, 183

Dabchick, 173
Dallmeyer, Mr., 17, 36
Damaraland, 184
Danube, 15, 307
Denmark, 225, 331
bird life in fjord, 331-346
ce ;, >, in forest, 347-356
Derbyshire, a week in, 357-369

Destruction of Larks’ nests by Crows and |

Jackdaws, 128
Devonshire, 80
Dipper, 362-366, 368
Disguise, 20, 29
Dixon, Mr., 103
Duck, Eider-, 201, 202
Tufted, in Norfolk, 220

nesting in Derbyshire, 357,

B58

» Wild, 53, 124, 156, 252
Ducks, 51
Dunlin in Denmark, 336, 338

33 33

371

Dunlin in Enfield, 171
,, in Lincolnshire, 175, 176, 179
> mM Spain, 282, 284

Dutch marshes, bird life in, 224-264

Eagle, Bonelli’s, 267, 290, 292

,, Booted, 267, 290

,, Golden, 267, 292

,, Imperial, 267, 290

ys, sea-, 352

;, Short-toed or Snake-, 267, 279
Eagles, 15, 204, 296
Ear of Owl, 218
Egg-shells as bait for Jackdaws, 31
Egret, Little, 298, 307, 310, 313, 314
Eider, 201
Electric photography, 24-35

| Enfield, 49, 127

» sewage-farm, 51, 170
Epping Forest, 50, 89
Esbjerg, 332
Europe, South, 175

Failures, 20, 23, 25, 71, 155, 166,
238, 241, 246, 250, 306
Falcon, Peregrine, 178, 267, 326

236,

| Farne Islands, sea-birds of, 186-205

Fieldfare, 52, 61, 62, 64

| Firecrest, 181

Flamborough, 104
Flamingo, 12, 121, 285, 292, 322
Flycatcher, Spotted, 33, 70, 100, 369
» photographing
of, 70
France, 122, 232, 269, 270
Friskney, 174-176

nest

Gadwall, 222

Gannet, 187

Gargeney, 208

Gatke, Herr, 104, 107

Geese, Brent, 337, 346
| Wald, 172

| Gibraltar, 266, 268, 269, 294

Glass, field-, 38, 40, 366
Godwit, Bar-tailed, 281
Black-tailed, in Holland, 261
in Norfolk, 207

nesting in Denmark,

B44

Godwits, 175, 176, 179, 257, 285
Goerz glass, 40, 366
Goldcrest, 85, 86, 88, 181
Goldfinch, 111, 112, 159
Goshawk, 352
Grebe, Eared, 257

Great Crested, 173, 220, 232

Little, 173, 311
Greenfinch, 109, 110

Guadalquivir, 268, 274-276, 281, 282, 294,

320
Guillemot, 187, 188-191, 197

Gull, Black-headed, 172, 179, 232, 255,

337, 340
Common, 179, 337, 344
Herring-, 197, 198, 337

Lesser Black-backed, 197, 198, 205,

337
Gulls, 175, 187, 204, 282, 285, 336, 345
Gun camera, 17, 68
Gurney, Mr., 182, 208

Gyrfalcon, 354

Hague, The, 259
Hammer, Yellow-, 118
Hand camera, uselessness of, 12, 14

Harrier, Montague’s, in Norfolk, 208, 216

a in Spain, 293
Harriers, 267, 326
Hen-, 207, 216
Marsh-, in Holland, 248, 250
.» in Norfolk, 208, 216
in Spain, 280, 293
& nest in Holland, 251
Harvie-Brown, Mr., 14
Hawtinch, 111
Hawk, Sparrow-, 153
Heligoland, 104, 107

Index

Heron, 52, 154, 155, 241, 242
Butl-backed, 298, 307, 310
Night-, 307, 310 ;
Purple, in Holland, 240, 241, 244,

246
in Spain, 298, 306, 313

photographing by elee-
tricity, 248
young, 2433
PP Squaceo, 307, 310
Hirundines, 100
Hobby, 326
Holland, 225
Horse, Spanish, 299
Hoopoe, 303
Hungary, 15
Ibis, Glossy, 298, 307
Imperial plates, 38
Irby, Colonel, 327
Ireland, 122, 254
Isla Mayor, 292
Menor, 324

| dJackdaw, 31, 59, 122, 125, 302, 368

| Jay, 121, 122
Jutland, 332
Kestrel, 150, 152, 153, 267, 272, 326, 359,

368
at Gibraltar, 27
release of, 153
Kingfisher, 119, 139-142
in Spain, 280
Kingsley, Charles, 224
Kite, Black, 288, 290
Common, climbing to nest of, 286,
288
in Denmark, 348
in Lincolnshire, 225
in Spain, 267, 282, 284,
286, 293, 296.
327
ae nest of, 288, 290
newspaper in nest of, 288, 289

Index

Kite in Wales, 348
Kittiwake, 191-194
Knowledge, 104
Korea, 104

Lammergeyer, 12
Lapland, 15, 108, 182, 261
Lapwing, 26, 28, 31, 167, 168, 169, 170,

222, 296, 347
Lark, Crested, 334, 335

» _ Sky-, 49, 52, 128, 333
Lens, tele-photo, 17, 36
Lilford, Lord, 14, 327
Limicole, 182
Lincolnshire, 80, 104
93 mud-flat, 174-185

Lisbon, 282, 327
London, 156, 170, 173

Madrid, 270

Magpie, 122, 257, 269, 270, 290, 354

Malaga, 294

Mallard, 275

Manchuria, 104

Martin, House-, 64, 102, 103, 115, 272

y Sand-, 100, 292

Martins and Sparrows, 115

Meal-worms as bait for Nightingales and
Robins, 32

Migration, 41-46, 103

Mongolia, 104

Mule, Spanish pack-, 294, 299

Nightingale, 19, 32, 53, 54, 74-81, 276
Nightingales and Meal-worms, 32
Nightjar, 54, 59, 89, 130-133, 159
Nightjars, young, 129
Norfolk, 174, 180, 182, 206, 225

is Broads, 206-223
Northamptonshire, 222
Northumberland, 186
Nudd, Joshua, 216
Number of birds seen in Enfield, 48
Nuteracker, 354

373

Optimus camera, 37

», lenses, 36
Oriole, Golden, 259, 260
Osprey, 276, 352
Outfit, photographic, 36-42
Owl, Barn-, 145, 146, 147, 250, 298, 302
in Holland, 259
50 », In Spain, 298, 302
+ castings, 147, 149, 259
., Little, 259, 303
;, Long-eared, 150, 218, 219
.» Scops-, 299

33 be)

;, short-eared, 149, 179, 180, 181,
208

nn Fe ear, 218

ap 5 nest, 217

Tawny, 147, 148, 152, 259
5E > in Holland, 259
Oyster-catcher, 175, 202, 254, 262

Partridge, 65, 160, 161, 271

55 Red-legged, 65, 158, 271
Patagonia, 184
Petrel, 47
Pigeon, Wood-, 54, 156, 158, 159, 173
Pheasant, 162
Photographic outfit, 36-42
Photographing at Gibraltar, 274

zy Blackeap, 85
Be Blue Tit, 93
9 Chiff-chatf’s nest, 369

and Red-

Common Tern
shank, 254

oF Cormorants, 204

Be Crested Lark, 335

#3 Dabchick, 173

55 Dipper’s nest, 366

ye Dunlins, 282

” y in marismas, 286
Fe: Hider, 201

re Flamingoes, 322

Ps Golderest’s nest, 88

fr Herons, 155, 242

Photographing Kestrel’s nest, 360
Kingfisher, 141
Lapwing, 170
Long-tailed Tit’s nest, 95
Marsh-harrier, 25]
nest of Montague’s Harrier,
216
Short-eared
217

nests and birds, 49

of Owl,

Nightingales, 78
Nightjar, 131
Pheasant, 162
Pintail’s nest, 342
Purple Herons, 241, 246,
248
Ringed Plover, 17]
Robins, 73, 74
Sandpiper’s nest, 359
a Sandwich Tern’s nest, 200
Snipe, 172
Southern Herons, 308
Spoonbills, 238, 244, 305
in marismas, 304
Stilt’s nest, 318
Swallow, 102
Turtle-dove, 160
up a ladder, 71
up a tree, 70
Vulture, 324
Water-hen, 166
Whinchats — with
camera, 68
Whitethroats, 82
W ood-pigeon, 158
Yellow Wagtail, 98
young Spoonbills, 236

gun

automatic, by electricity,
24-35
for naturalists, 9-23

Photography,

Pinnacles, 187

Pintail, 337, 341, 342

Pipit, Meadow-, 65, 98, 223
Rock-, 205

Index

Pipit, Tree-, 99
Plates, dry, 38
Plover, Grey, 15, 293
Golden, 52, 167
Kentish, 336
Kill-deer, 183
Lesser Golden, 183
Ringed, 170, 171, 205, 284,
545
Stone- or Norfolk, 311
Pochard, 222
Pole-trap, 148, 149
Pratincole, 293, 296, 516
Puffin, 187, 194-196
Pyrenees, 269, 27]

336,

Quant, 212

Rabbit as bait for Hooded Crows, 31
Raven in Denmark, 347, 354
in Enfield, 127
in Spain, 313

Redbreast and meal-worm, 32

Robin, 32, 64, 72, 73, 76, 159
Redpole, Lesser, 116
Redshank, Denmark, 336, 338, 341

Enfield, 171

Holland, 254, 261

Lincolnshire, 175

Norfolk, 222
- Spain, 284, 289, 293, 296, 317
Redstart, 71
Redwing, 52, 61
Richmond Park, 154, 173, 220
Roller, 302, 303
Rook, 76, 124-127, 179
Rudolph, Prince, 14, 327
Ruff, Reeve, 262, 340, 544

St. James’s Park, 173
San Lucar de Barrameda, 281

| Sand-grouse, Pallas’s, 181

Sandpiper, Bartram’s, 185

Bonaparte’s, 185

Index

Sandpiper, Buff-breasted, 185
53 Common, 359, 366
35 Green, 171, 280
ks Pectoral, 183
3 Solitary, 183
Spotted, 183

Bader, Howard, 86, 104, 132, 184, 290,

327
Scandinavia, 174, 182, 218
Scoter, 337
Scotland, 181
Sea-birds at the Farne Islands, 186-205
Searching for nests, Bearded Tits’, 212
Seebohm, Mr., 14, 15, 107, 307, 317,
331

Seville, 282, 292, 293
Sewage-farm, 170
Shelldrake, Ruddy, 181
Shoveller, 208, 219, 222
Shrike, Great Grey, 182

Red-backed, 99, 100

W oodchat, 278
Siberia, 14, 104, 174, 182
Snipe, 51, 171, 172

Red-breasted, 183
Southwell, Mr., 182
Spain, 15, 108, 122, 128, 236
Spanish marismas, 184

- - bird life in, 265-330

Hedge-, 65, 91, 105
House-, 112, 113, 114, 115
Tree-, 116
Sparrow-hawk, 153
Spoonbill, 25

Sparrow,

feeding young, 246

in Holland, 226, 232, 240,
246

in Norfolk, 207, 208

nesting in Spain, 304-306

244—

photographing by electricity in
Holland, 244
Staple Island, 188
Starling, 107, 119-121, 292, 334, 368
Sardinian, 299

Tele-photo lens, 17, 36

375

Stevenson, Mr., 182
Stilt, 296, 317-319
., measurements, 319

| Stint, American, 183

,, Little, 15, 179
Stock-dove, 160
Stonechat, 65
Stork, Black, 348-351
White, in Denmark, 335
ae in forest, 313
in Lisbon, 327
in marisma, 298
in Seville, 293
on Guadalquivir, 292
, in Holland, 257, 258
Sabicea parish, bird life in, 48-173
Swallow, 64, 76, 102, 108, 231, 272
Swan, Wild, 346
Sweden, 122
Swift, 120

Tagus, 327
Tangiers, 294
Deals dle 156,222

A Out:

Tennyson, 76
Tern,

Arctic, at Farne Islands, 198, 199,
200
in Denmark, 337, 345
in Norfolk, rae
in Holland, 231, 5, Dx!
, in Spain, 296, if.
, young, 255
Caspian, 320
Common, at Farnes, 198
in Holland, 253, 254
Gull-billed, 320
Lesser, 198, 262, 337.
Roseate, 198
Sandwich, at Farnes, 198, 199, 200
7 in Denmark, 337, 340
., Whiskered, 293, 296, 319

Black,

Terns, 187, 203, 285, 336, 338; 345

Texel, 254
Thrush, Missel-, 54-56
Song-, 49, 56-61, 122
Thuringia Wald, 126
Tit, Blue, 92, 93
in Spain, 280
Bearded, 208, 210-216, 257
Coal-, 92
Crested, 280
Great, 92, 93, 368
Long-tailed, 92, 93, 94, 95
., Marsh-, 92, 93
Titmice, 91, 276
Turkestan, 104
Turtle-dove, 28, 53, 159, 160

Uganda, 11

Valencia, 266

Vole plague, 180, 181

Voles and Rooks, 126, 127

Vulture, Egyptian, 267, 275, 324
Griffon, 324

Vultures, 15, 265, 324

Wading, 40, 212, 236, 242, 263, 339
Wagtail, Blue-headed, 338
Grey, 366
Pied, 96, 98
Yellow, 98, 223
Waiting at nests, 21
Wales, 348
Wanstead Park, 154
Warbler. Garden-, 85
Grasshopper-, 90, 210, 257

Index

Warbler, Great Reed-, 2
Icterine, 260
Radde’s Bush-, 104
Reed-, 90, 212, 222, 311
Savi’s, 207
Sedge-, 53, 90, 223, 224
Warwick late 38
Wash, 175
Water-hen, 33, 53, 124,
166, 173, 222, 256
Water-rail, 222
Wheatear, Desert-, 104
Whinchat, 19, 33, 67, 68, 82, 223
Whitethroat, Greater, 19, 81, 82
; ee 84, 85
W ee Mr. ., 126
Winchmore ae 163
Wolley, 15
Woodcock, 179
Woodpecker, Green, 134-138
tongue of, 136
Lesser Spotted, 138
Spanish Green, 302
W qodges kers, 95, 136, 138
Wren, 96, 159
Willow-, 82, 89
W ood-, 89, 360 >
Wryneck, 133, 293.

31, 295, B11

Yellowshank, 183
Yorkshire, 80

Zoologist, 86, 106, 120, 126, 128,
170, 206, 289
Zuyder Zee, 260

Printed and bound by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.

155, 164, 165,

149,

~®

——S—

8172284

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