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Chapter VIII: Part 8

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Head, neck, portion of the wings, and lower parts white; upper
parts black, tinged here and there with red. Length six inches
and three-quarters. Eggs pale reddish white, speckled and
spotted with brown and pale red.

This, though a northern bird also, does not confine itself so closely to the Arctic regions as the preceding species; but is of common occurrence in many parts of Scotland during autumn and winter and later in the season in various parts of England. Macgillivray, whose acquaintance with British birds, especially those of Scotland, was very accurate, was inclined to the opinion that the Snow Bunting or Snow-flake breeds on the higher Grampians, having observed a specimen on a mountain of this range so early as the fourth of August, while the migratory flocks do not appear until two months later. "About the end of October it makes its appearance along the coasts or on the higher grounds of the south of Scotland, and about the same period in the south of England, although it is there of much less frequent occurrence. Assembled in large straggling flocks, or scattered in small detachments, these birds may be seen flying rather low along the shore, somewhat in the manner of Larks, moving in an undulating line by means of repeated flappings and short intervals of cessation, and uttering a soft and rather low cry, consisting of a few mellow notes, not unlike those of the Common Linnet, but intermixed at times with a sort of stifled scream or _churr_. When they have found a fitting place, they wheel suddenly round, and alight rather abruptly, on which occasion the white of the wings and tail becomes very conspicuous. They run with great celerity along the sand, not by hops, like the Sparrows and Finches, but in a manner resembling that of the Larks and Pipits; and when thus occupied, it is not in general difficult to approach them, so that specimens are easily procured. At intervals they make excursions into the neighbouring fields, alight in cornyards, at barn-doors, or even on the roads, where they obtain seeds of oats, wheat, and weeds, which I have found in them. In the villages along the coast of Lothian, they are sometimes, in spring, nearly as common as Sparrows, and almost as familiar. About the middle of April, or sometimes a week later, these birds disappear and betake themselves to their summer residence." Its habits, as observed in England, are similar; but the flocks are generally smaller. In the Arctic regions, it is abundant from the middle or end of April to the end of September. Its nest is composed of dry grass, neatly lined with deer's hair and a few feathers, and is generally fixed in the crevice of a rock or in a loose pile of timber or stones. In spring it feeds principally on the buds of _Saxifraga oppositifolia_, one of the earliest of the Arctic plants; during winter, on grass seeds. Peculiar interest attaches to the Snow Bunting, from the fact that it is (according to Linnæus) the only living animal that has been seen two thousand feet above the line of perpetual snow in the Lapland Alps. Mention of it frequently occurs in books of Arctic travels. I must not omit to state that the specimens obtained in Great Britain vary so considerably in the proportions of white and tawny in their plumage, that there were at one time considered to be three several species. In Norfolk, I have seen them in severe weather flocking with Larks, among which they make themselves so conspicuous by the white portion of their plumage, as to be popularly known by the name of 'White-winged Larks'.

THE LAPLAND BUNTING
CALCARIUS LAPPÓNICUS

Crown of the head black, speckled with red; throat and breast
black, a broad white band extending from the eye down the sides
of the neck; nape bright chestnut; back, wings, and tail
variegated with brown, white, and black; under parts white,
spotted at the sides with dark brown. Length six inches and
three-quarters. Eggs pale ochre-yellow, spotted with brown.

This bird, as its name denotes, is an inhabitant of high northern latitudes; and its occurrence in this country is very rare. A few only have been shot, in places remote from each other; and in the year 1843, a female was captured by a bird-catcher near Milnthorpe, in Westmoreland, and kept for some time in an aviary, where it soon became friendly with its companions and took its daily meal of rape, canary, or hemp seeds, and now and then a sprinkling of oats, with apparent satisfaction. In the Arctic regions it inhabits hilly and mountainous districts, and spends most of its time on the ground, where it runs in the manner of Larks, and where also it builds its nest. The male is said to have a pleasing song, combining that of the Skylark and of the Linnet.

FAMILY MOTACILLIDÆ

THE WHITE WAGTAIL
MOTACILLA ALBA

_Summer_--head, breast, wings and tail variegated with black
and white; chin, throat, and neck black; back and scapulars
pearl-grey; side of the neck as low as the wings white.
_Winter_--chin, throat and neck white, with an isolated black
gorget. Length nearly seven inches and a half. Eggs bluish
white, speckled with black.

This species has bred in England more frequently than has been supposed. It is not uncommon in Cornwall in spring, and indeed it visits many of our English counties. Its nest has been found in such odd places as a Sand Martin's burrow and the middle of a strawberry bed. The present editor has seen it nesting among the spraying branches of a Virginian creeper growing over trellis work. A beautiful little bird it is.

THE PIED WAGTAIL
MOTACILLA LÚGUBRIS

_Summer_--all the plumage variegated with white and black; back
and scapulars, chin, throat, and neck black; a small portion of
the side of the neck white. _Winter_--back and scapulars
ash-grey; chin and throat white, with a black, but not entirely
isolated, gorget. Length seven inches and a half. Eggs bluish
white, speckled with dark grey.

The Pied Wagtail or Dishwasher is a familiar and favourite bird, best known by its habit of frequenting the banks of ponds and streams, where it runs, not hops about, picking insects from the herbage, and frequently rising with a short jerking flight, to capture some winged insect, which its quick eye has detected hovering in the air. Its simple song consists of but few notes, but the tone is sweet and pleasing, and is frequently heard when the bird is cleaving its way through the air with its peculiar flight, in which it describes a series of arcs, as if it were every instant on the point of alighting, but had altered its mind. While hunting for food, it keeps its tail in perpetual motion. It shows little fear of man, and frequently approaches his dwelling. It may often be noticed running rapidly along the tiles or thatch of a country house, and it not unfrequently takes its station on the point of a gable, or the ridge of the roof, and rehearses its song again and again. Very frequently, too, it perches in trees, especially such as are in the vicinity of ponds. Next to watery places, it delights in newly-ploughed fields, and hunts for insects on the ground, utterly fearless of the ploughman and his implements. A newly-mown garden lawn is another favourite resort; so also is a meadow in which cows are feeding, and to these it is most serviceable, running in and out between their legs, and catching, in a short time, an incredible number of flies. The country scarcely furnishes a prettier sight than that afforded by a family of Wagtails on the short grass of a park, in July or August. A party of five or six imperfectly fledged birds may often be seen scattered over a small space of ground, running about with great activity, and picking up insects, while the parent birds perform short aërial journeys above and around them, frequently alighting, and transferring from their own mouths to those of their offspring, each in its turn, the insects they have just captured. They are at all times sociably disposed, being seen sometimes in small parties, and sometimes in large flocks. It has been noticed that when one of a party has been wounded by a discharge from a gun, another has flown down as if to aid it, or sympathize with it. Advantage is taken of this habit by bird-catchers in France. It is the custom to tie Wagtails by their feet to the clap nets, and make them struggle violently and utter cries of pain when a flight of the same kind of birds is seen approaching; these stop their flight, and alighting are caught in large numbers for the spit, their flesh, it is said, being very delicate. They share, too, with Swallows the praise of being among the first to announce to other birds the approach of a Hawk, and join with them in mobbing and driving it away.

About the middle of April, the Pied Wagtail begins to build its nest. This is usually placed in a hole in a bank or hedge, among stones, or in the hollow of a tree; it is composed of dry grass and withered leaves, mixed with moss, and lined with wool, hair, and a few feathers. It is a compact and solid structure, capable of protecting the eggs and young from the damp soil, but is not generally concealed with much art; and hence perhaps it is frequently selected by the Cuckoo, to lay an egg in.

Towards autumn, Pied Wagtails for the most part migrate southwards. In the midland counties they may be often observed in large companies, in October, halting for a few days wherever food is abundant, and then suddenly disappearing; after which only a few stragglers are seen until the spring. They return northwards about the beginning of March. In the extreme south of England they are numerous all the year round; but as many instances have occurred of their alighting on a ship at sea, it is probable that the majority migrate to some southern climate, where the ponds do not freeze and gnats gambol at Christmas.

THE GREY WAGTAIL
MOTACILLA MELANÓPE

_Summer_--head and back bluish grey; a pale streak above the
eyes; throat black; under parts bright yellow; tail very long.
_Winter_--chin and throat whitish, passing into yellow. Length
seven inches and three-quarters. Eggs bluish white, speckled
with dark grey.

Grey Wagtail is not a very happy name for this bird, as the bright yellow of its neck and breast are far more conspicuous than the more sober grey of the head and back; yet, as there are other claimants for the more appropriate names 'Yellow', and Greyheaded, the young observer must be cautious while reading the descriptions of the several members of the family, or he may possibly fall into error. The Grey Wagtail is among the most elegant and graceful of British birds, and in delicacy of colouring is surpassed by few. Its habits are much the same as those of the Pied Wagtail, but it is even lighter and more active in its movements. It is less frequently observed away from water than that species, and though, like it, not altogether a permanent resident in England, it visits us at the opposite season, coming in autumn, and retiring northwards in spring. It does not seem often to go so far north as Inverness-shire, but is regularly seen about Edinburgh in winter; and, on the other hand, it breeds yearly in the southern counties of England during summer, as on the streams which flow from Dartmoor. This partial migration seems to be characteristic of the family, and is difficult to account for. Why out of a certain number of birds of the same species, some should annually travel southwards, to supply the place of individuals belonging to an allied species, who have travelled yet further to the south, and why, on the reappearance of the latter in spring, the first should return to their northern haunts, are questions more easily asked than answered.

The Grey Wagtail has been repeatedly observed to indulge in a fancy which might well obtain for it the name of 'window-bird'. The first recorded instance occurs in an early number of the _Zoologist_, where it is stated, that every morning for a period of between three and four months, from the beginning of October to the end of January, a Grey Wagtail came to the window of a country house as soon as the blinds were drawn up, and darted against the panes of glass, pecking with its beak as if it saw some object. It would then retire, and after a pause repeat the operation, but from what motive no one could conjecture. A lady writes to me from Dewlish House, Dorsetshire: 'We are constantly being disturbed by a yellow-breasted Water-Wagtail, which comes tapping at the windows or skylights, from the first streak of light till evening. What may be his object no one can say. It is too cold at present (March) for flies or spiders, and, had there been any hybernating there he would have eaten them long ago, he comes so frequently. When, on going upstairs, or when sitting down in my room, I hear this loud repeated tapping, it is vain for me to open the window and try to entice him in with crumbs; he does not even notice them. This morning he woke me at about four o'clock. You would have said, 'Some one rapping at my window as a signal that I must get up. An old servant tells me, "Ah, 'twere just the same last spring, when the family were in London; they say that it do mean something."'

The Grey Wagtail does not commonly build its nest in the southern counties of England, although instances have occurred. It prefers hilly and rocky districts. More frequently it repairs in spring to the north of England and south of Scotland, and builds its nest on the ground, or in the hole of a bank, or between large stones, and never at any great distance from the water. It is composed of stems and blades of grass, mixed with moss and wool, and lined with wool, hair and feathers.

THE BLUE-HEADED (OR GREY-HEADED) WAGTAIL
MOTACILLA FLAVA

Top of the head, lore, and nape lead-grey; over the eye a white
streak; scapulars, back, and upper tail-coverts greenish olive,
tinged with yellow; chin white, in the young male yellow; under
parts bright yellow. Length six inches and a half. Eggs mottled
with yellow, brown, and grey.

This, one of the common Yellow Wagtails of the Continent, is a rare visitor in this country. Its habits, nest, and eggs, closely resemble those of the next species. It is the _Bergeronette printanière_ ('Little shepherdess of the Spring') of the French, a pretty name, suggested by the habit, common to all the genus, of resorting to sheepfolds for the sake of feeding on the flies with which such places abound.

YELLOW WAGTAIL
MOTACILLA RAII

Top of the head, lore, nape, back, and scapulars pale olive;
over the eye a streak of bright yellow; chin yellow; lower
parts of the same colour. Length six inches and a half. Eggs
whitish, mottled with yellow, brown, and grey.

Ray's Wagtail, the third of the Yellow Wagtails placed on the list of British birds, is, next to the Pied, the best known species, being a regular summer visitor, and everywhere tolerably common. It is said by most authors to frequent the water rather less than the other species, and to prefer fields of peas and tares, open downs and sheep pastures; but, as far as my own observation goes, I have seen it far more frequently near water than elsewhere, and if I wished to observe its habits, I should repair to the nearest canal or river, in the certain expectation of seeing a pair hunting among the aquatic weeds for their food, running along the sandy or muddy shore, perching on the broad leaves of the water-lily, and chasing each other with dipping flight through the air. I am inclined to believe that, though it may have often been noticed in dry pastures and stony places, yet that when so circumstanced, it is only engaged on an exploring expedition from its watery haunts; for it is scarcely possible that a bird so thoroughly at home in a weedy pond, can ever be long absent from such a locality from choice. Its habits are precisely similar to those of the Pied Wagtail, except that it visits us in the summer exclusively, retiring southwards in autumn. It may often also be seen in company with that species. Besides its call-note, which consists of two shrill notes, the second of which is a musical tone lower than the first, it has a short and exceedingly sweet song, something like that of the Redbreast when at its best. This I have heard it utter whilst it was perched on a low bush overhanging a pond. Its nest was probably somewhere in the neighbourhood, for when disturbed it flew to a short distance only, alighted on another twig and repeated its warble again. This was in the first week in May, and is the only occasion on which I ever heard it really sing. The nest resembles that of the Pied Wagtail, and is placed on the ground, usually in pea-fields. The popular name Washerwoman belongs to the whole family. The corresponding term, _Lavandière_, is also found in France, and was given from the fanciful similarity between the beating of the water with its tail by the bird while tripping along the leaves of a water-lily, and the beating of linen in the water by washerwomen, a custom still existing in France, and some parts of England and Ireland.

THE TREE PIPIT
ANTHUS TRIVIÁLIS

Hind claw shorter than the toe, and curved so as to form the
fourth of a circle; upper parts ash, tinged with olive, the
centre of each feather dark brown; a double band across the
wing, formed by the yellowish white tips of the lesser and
middle wing-coverts; throat and region of the eye dull white;
breast reddish yellow, spotted, and at the sides lightly
streaked with dark brown. Length six inches. Eggs dull white,
variously mottled with purple brown.

The name Titlark is popularly applied to three common species of birds which were formerly placed in the same family with the Skylark. Modern ornithologists now place them in a distinct genus, the characters of which differ from those of the true Lark in that the beak is more slender and slightly notched near the point, the first three quills are nearly of the same length and the outer toe is united with the middle one as far as the first joint. In colouring, however, in general form, and, to a slight extent, in habits, namely, in the mode of feeding and nesting, there is much similarity between the genera; but in the power of soaring, the Lark, though imitated by one species, is unrivalled. The old name Titlark, then, must be understood to be merged in the more distinctive title, Pipit, given to three common kinds which severally frequent trees, meadows, and the sea-shore. Pipits are more allied to the Wagtail family than with Larks. The Tree Pipit alone is a migratory species, arriving in this country towards the end of April, and leaving us in the autumn. It is common in most of the wooded counties of England, except the extreme west and north, but attracts little notice, being unostentatious in size and colour, while its song, except by the practised ear, is likely to be lost in the general melody of the woods. Yarrell's succinct account of its most characteristic habit is so comprehensive and accurate, that the observer who wishes to make its acquaintance can scarcely fail by its help to identify the bird on its very first occurrence. 'The male has a pretty song, perhaps more attractive from the manner in which it is given, than the quality of the song itself. He generally sings while perched on the top of a bush, or one of the upper branches of an elm-tree standing in a hedgerow, from which, if watched for a short time, he will be seen to ascend with quivering wing about as high again as the tree; then, stretching out his wings and expanding his tail, he descends slowly by a half-circle, singing the whole time, to the same branch from which he started, or to the top of the nearest other tree; and so constant is this habit with him, that if the observer does not approach near enough to alarm him, the bird may be seen to perform the same evolution twenty times in half an hour, and I have witnessed it most frequently during and after a warm May shower.' Its descent to the ground is generally performed in the same manner. Its food consists of insects and small seeds, for which it searches among the grass or newly-ploughed ground, with the walking and running gait of the Wagtails, but without their incessant waving movement of the tail. The nest, which is placed on the ground, under a tuft of grass or low bush, and very frequently on the skirt of a wood or copse, is composed of dry grass and small roots, and lined with finer grass and hair. The eggs are usually five in number, and vary so much, that extreme specimens would scarcely seem to belong to the same bird. In the predominating brown hue a tinge of red is, however, always perceptible, and by this it may be distinguished from the egg of the Meadow Pipit.[14] The Tree Pipit is not seen in Ireland, or it is as yet unrecorded there.

[14] 'Amongst our land birds', says Hewitson, 'there is no
species the eggs of which present so many, or such distinct
varieties, as those of the Tree Pipit. No one would at first
believe them to be eggs of the same species; and it was not
till I had captured the bird upon each of the varieties, and
also received them from Mr. H. Doubleday, similarly attested,
that I felt satisfactorily convinced upon the subject.'

Tree Pipit [M]

Yellow Hammer [M]

Rock Pipit [M]

Meadow Pipit [M]

[_face p. 116._]]

Woodlark [M]

Shore Lark [M]

Skylark [M]]

THE MEADOW PIPIT
ANTHUS PRATENSIS

Hind claw longer than the toe, slightly curved; upper parts
ash, tinged with olive, especially in winter, the centre of
each feather dark brown; under parts reddish white, streaked
with dark brown. Length five inches and three-quarters. Eggs
dull white, variously spotted and mottled with brown.

It may be thought at the first glimpse that a difference in the comparative length of the hinder claws of two birds so much alike as the Tree and Meadow Pipits is scarcely sufficient to justify a specific distinction; but when it is considered that a short and curved claw enables a bird to retain a firm grasp of a small twig, while a long and almost straight one is best adapted for perching on the ground, it will appear at once that, however similar two birds may be in all other respects, yet the slight one in which they differ is the point on which hinges a complex scheme of habits. So the Tree Pipit frequents wooded districts, and passes a large portion of its time aloft among the branches, while the Meadow Pipit finds its happiness on the ground. It is not, indeed, confined to the unwooded country, for no bird is more generally diffused, and the nests of both species, constructed of similar materials, may frequently be found in the border of the same field, yet it often finds a home in wild, barren districts, frequented by no other small birds but the Wheatear and Ring Ouzel. I have even more than once seen it alight on a tree, but this was apparently as a resting-place on which it perched previously to descending to roost among the heath on a common. Had I not been near, it would most probably have dropped at once to its hiding-place as some of its companions did. From its attachment to commons and waste lands, the Meadow Pipit has received the names of Ling-bird and Moss-cheeper. In winter it is more abundant in the plains, where it may often be seen in small parties searching for seeds and insects in recently-ploughed lands, well marked by its running gait and the olive tinge of its upper plumage. Its song, which is not frequently heard, is a short and simple strain, sometimes uttered on the ground, but more generally, while rising or falling, at no great height in the air. Its nest is only to be distinguished from that of the Tree Pipit by the dark brown hue of the eggs which are somewhat similar to those of the Skylark, only smaller. 'The egg of the Cuckoo is more frequently deposited and hatched in the nest of the Meadow Pipit than in that of any other bird,' says Yarrell. It is interesting to know, now, that this bird--an immoral creature we might call it--which never keeps to one mate, deposits its eggs in the nests of about 145 species, taking the world over.

THE ROCK PIPIT
ANTHUS OBSCÚRUS

Hind claw about equal in length to the toe, much curved; upper
plumage greenish brown, the centre of each feather darker
brown; a whitish streak over the eye; under parts dull white,
spotted and streaked with dark brown. Length six inches and
three-quarters. Eggs dull white, mottled with dingy brown.

Except that it is somewhat larger, the Rock Pipit is very similar in form and colour to the last species. It is, however, far more local, being confined exclusively to the sea-shore, but there of very common occurrence. Every one familiar with the sea-coast, must have observed it moving through the air with a jerking flight, occasionally alighting on a rock or on the beach near the line of high-water mark, searching busily for marine insects. In spring, it frequently takes little flights inland, never to a great distance, repeating its simple song all the while, and chasing as if in sport some one or other of its companions. In winter, it seems to act as a guide to the smaller land birds, who, finding their supply of food diminished or altogether cut off by the frost, are attracted by its movements, and join it in searching for insects among the unfrozen

'ridge of all things vile,'

left on the shore by the receding tide. Montagu says, that it has never been observed to be gregarious; his editor, however, Rennie, states that he has noticed it to be, if not quite gregarious, at least very nearly so, on the wild rocky shores of Normandy; and, from my own acquaintance with its habits in Devon and Cornwall, I am inclined to agree with the latter. If not gregarious, it is at least sociable, and that too at seasons when the flocks could hardly have been family gatherings only. The same remark holds good of the Meadow Pipit. A migration southwards takes place in October along our east coast.

FAMILY ALAUDIDÆ

THE SKYLARK
ALAUDA ARVENSIS

Upper parts reddish brown, the centre of each feather dark
brown; a faint whitish streak above the eyes; throat white;
neck and breast whitish, tinged with yellow and red, and
streaked with dark brown; tail moderate. Length seven inches
and a quarter. Eggs greyish, thickly speckled with dark grey
and brown.

The Skylark, a bird whose flight and song are better known perhaps than those of any other bird, needs but a simple biography. The favourite bird of the poets, its story might be told in extracts compiled from various authors whose muse has led them to sing of Nature. Much, however, that has been written is but an amplification of the golden line, 'Hark, the Lark at Heaven's gate sings!' and not a little is an exaggerated statement of the height to which it ascends, and the time which it remains suspended in mid-air. But the Skylark needs no panegyrists, so, with all due deference to those who have struck the lyre in its honour, I will endeavour to describe its habits and haunts in humble prose.

The Skylark is a generally-diffused bird, adapted by the conformation of its claws for perching on the ground, and by its length and power of wing for soaring high in the air. Accordingly, its food consists of small insects and seeds, which it collects among the herbage of stubble-fields, meadows and downs, or in newly-ploughed fields. To this fare, it adds in winter and spring the tender stalk of sprouting corn. Hence it is regarded with deadly hostility by farmers, and hence, too, the quiet of the country is much disturbed at these seasons, by boys employed to frighten it away by screaming and plying a peculiar kind of rattle.[15] During autumn and winter, Larks congregate in large flocks, and occupy their time principally in searching for food on the ground. If disturbed, they rise in a scattered manner, wheel about in the air until the flock is formed again, chirping from time to time, and then withdraw, not in a compact body, but at unequal distances from the earth and from each other, to a new feeding-ground, over which they hover with circling flight for some time before alighting. On trees they never perch; though one or two may occasionally be seen settled on a quickset hedge or a railing. In North Britain, at the approach of severe weather, they flock together and migrate southwards. Great numbers also visit England from the Continent, arriving in November, when they used to be caught in nets and traps for the table. Early in spring the flocks break up, when the birds pair, and for three or four months, every day and all day long, when the weather is fine (for the Lark dislikes rain and high winds), its song may be heard throughout the breadth of the land. Rising as it were by a sudden impulse from its nest or lowly retreat, it bursts forth, while as yet but a few feet from the ground, into exuberant song, and with its head turned towards the breeze, now ascending perpendicularly, and now veering to the right or left, but not describing circles, it pours forth an unbroken chain of melody, until it has reached an elevation computed to be, at the most, about a thousand feet. To an observer on earth, it has dwindled to the size of a mere speck; but, as far as my experience goes, it never rises so high as to defy the search of a keen eye. Having reached its highest elevation, its ambition is satisfied without making any permanent stay, and it begins to descend, not with a uniform downward motion, but by a series of droppings with intervals of simple hovering, during which it seems to be resting on its wings. Finally, as it draws near the earth, it ceases its song and descends more rapidly, but before it touches the ground it recovers itself, sweeps away with almost horizontal flight for a short distance and disappears in the herbage. The time consumed in this evolution is at the most from fifteen to twenty minutes, more frequently less; nor have I ever observed it partially descend and soar upwards again. A writer in the _Magazine of Natural History_ maintains that 'those acquainted with the song of the Skylark, can tell, without looking at them, whether the birds be ascending or stationary in the air, or on their descent; so different is the style of the song in each case'. Mr. Yarrell is of the same opinion, and I have little doubt that they are correct, though I am not certain that I have myself attained the skill of discriminating. In July, the Lark ceases its soarings and song together, but in fine weather, in October, it receives a new inspiration and is musical again. From time to time, during winter, if the season be mild, it resumes its aërial habits, but it neither ascends so high nor sings so long, two or three minutes becoming now the limits of its performance. Like most other birds, it sings least about noon and the first two hours of the afternoon; but it begins before sunrise, having been heard at midsummer as early as two o'clock in the morning, and it sometimes continues its song till late on into the night, having been heard at ten o'clock when it was quite dark. Occasionally, too, it sings on the ground; and, in a cage, as all the world knows, it pours out its melody with as much spirit, as if its six inches of turf could be measured by acres, and the roof of its little cage were the vault of heaven. The following stanza in French is equally successful in imitating the song of the Skylark and describing its evolutions:

La gentille Alouette avec son tirelire,
Tirelire, relire et tirelirant, tire
Vers la voûte du ciel; puis son vol en ce lieu
Vire, et semble nous dire: Adieu, adieu, adieu.

The Lark builds its nest in a hollow in the ground, the rut of a cart-wheel, the depression formed by a horse's hoof, or in a hole which it scrapes out for itself. The nest is composed of dry grass, and lined with finer fibres. It lays four or five eggs, and rears two broods in the year. It displays great attachment to its young, and has been known, when disturbed by mowers, to build a dome over its nest, as a substitute for the natural shelter afforded by the grass while standing, and to remove its young in its claws to another place of concealment. In a cage, even the male is an excellent nurse. Mr. Weir mentions one which brought up several broods entrusted to its care, and a similar instance has fallen under my own notice. Larks frequently become the prey of the Hobby and Merlin, which pounce on them as they are on the point of leaving the ground, and bear them off with as much ease as they would a feather. But if an intended victim discovers its oppressor in time, it instantly begins to ascend with a rapidity which the other cannot follow, carried on as it is by the impetus of its horizontal flight. The Hawk, foiled for this time, renews the chase and endeavours to soar above its quarry; if it succeeds, it makes a second swoop, sometimes with deadly effect; but if it fails a second time, the Lark folds Its wings, drops like lead to the ground, and, crouching among the herbage, often escapes detection.

[15] Farmers would effect a great saving if they sowed their
wheat deeper than is the usual practise. The only part of
the young plant which the Lark touches is the white stalk
between the grain and the blade. In its effort to obtain
this it frequently destroys the whole plant, if the grain
has been lodged near the surface; but if the young shoot has
sprouted from a depth of an inch or more, the bird contents
itself with as much as it can reach without digging, and
leaves the grain uninjured and capable of sprouting again.

THE WOODLARK
ALAUDA ARBÓREA

Upper parts reddish brown, the centre of each feather dark
brown; a distinct yellowish white streak above the eye passing
to the back part of the head; lower parts yellowish white,
streaked with dark brown; tail short. Length six inches and a
half. Eggs greyish white, speckled and sometimes faintly
streaked with brown.

The Woodlark is much less frequent than the Skylark, and is confined to certain districts, also it is only resident northwards up to Stirling. It is distinguished by its smaller size, short tail, a light mark over the eye, and by its habit of perching on trees, where the Skylark is never known to alight. It builds its nest very early in the season, sometimes so soon as the end of March, and probably rears several broods in the year, as it has been found sitting as late as September. It is consequently among the earliest songsters of the year, and among the last to bid adieu to summer. It sings on until the occurrence of severe frosts, and its note is among the sweetest and most touching sounds of nature. The song, though of less compass and less varied than that of the Skylark, is superior in liquidness of tone, and is thought to resemble the syllables '_lulu_', by which name the bird is known in France. When soaring it may be distinguished from the Skylark not only by its song, but by its ascending in circles, which it describes, poets tell us, and perhaps correctly, with its nest for a centre. Sometimes, especially during sunshine after a summer shower, it alights on the summit of a lofty tree, to 'unthread its chaplet of musical pearls', and its simpler _lulu_ notes may be heard as it flies from place to place while but a few feet above the surface of the ground. In autumn, Woodlarks assemble in small sociable parties (but not in large flocks), and keep together during the winter. Early in spring these societies are broken up into pairs, and the business of the season commences. The nest is composed of bents and a little moss, and is lined with finer grass, and, though built on the ground, is generally concealed with more art than that of the Skylark, the birds availing themselves of the shelter afforded by a bush or tuft of grass.

THE SHORE LARK
OTÓCORYS ALPESTRIS

Throat, forehead, and ear-coverts yellow; over the forehead a
black band; lore, moustache, and gorget black; upper parts
reddish brown; breast and flanks yellowish white; abdomen
white. Length nearly seven inches. Eggs greyish white, spotted
with pale blue and brown.

The Shore Lark, like the last, is a very rare visitor of Britain, and appears to be equally uncommon In France. A few have been shot in Norfolk, and in the high latitudes both of the Old and New Worlds it is a common resident on the rocky coasts. It builds its nest on the ground, and shares in the great characteristic of the family, that, namely, of soaring and singing simultaneously. In colouring, it is strongly marked by its black gorget and crest.

ORDER PICARIÆ

FAMILY CYPSELIDÆ

THE SWIFT
CÝPSELUS ÁPUS

General plumage sooty brown; chin greyish white; tarsi
feathered; bill feet, and claws, shining black. Length eight
inches; width seventeen inches. Eggs pure white.

The Swift is, perhaps, the strongest and swiftest, not merely of the Swallow tribe, but of all birds; hence a voyage from Southern Africa[16] to England is performed without overtaxing its strength. It stands in need of no rest after this prodigious flight, but immediately on its arrival starts with a right good will on its pursuit of food, as if its journey had been but a pleasant course of training for its daily vocation. With respect to temperature, however, its powers of endurance are limited; it never proceeds far northwards, and occasionally even suffers from unseasonably severe weather in the temperate climates where it fixes its summer residence. Mr. F. Smith, of the British Museum, related in the _Zoologist_,[17] that, at Deal, on the eighth of July, 1856, after a mild but wet day, the temperature suddenly fell till it became disagreeably cold. The Swifts were sensibly affected by the atmospheric change; they flew unsteadily, fluttered against the walls of the houses, and some even flew into open windows. 'Whilst observing these occurrences', he says, 'a girl came to the door to ask me if I wanted to buy a bat; she had heard, she told me, that I bought all kinds of bugs, and her mother thought I might want a bat. On her producing it, I was astonished to find it was a poor benumbed Swift. The girl told me they were dropping down in the streets, and the boys were killing all the bats; the church, she said, was covered with them. Off I started to witness this strange sight and slaughter. True enough; the children were charging them everywhere, and on arriving at the church in Lower Street I was astonished to see the poor birds hanging in clusters from the eaves and cornices; some clusters were at least two feet in length, and, at intervals, benumbed individuals dropped from the outside of the clusters. Many hundreds of the poor birds fell victims to the ruthless ignorance of the children.' Being so susceptible of cold, the Swift does not visit us until summer may be considered to have completely set in. In the south it is generally seen towards the end of April, but it generally brings up the rear of the migratory birds by making its first appearance in the first or second week in May, in the north.

Early in August it makes itself, for a few days, more than ever conspicuous by its wheeling flights around the buildings which contain its nest, and then suddenly disappears. At this period, too, its note is more frequently heard than during any other part of its visit, and in this respect it is peculiar. As a general rule, birds cease their song partially, if not entirely, when their eggs are hatched. The new care of providing for the wants of a brood occupies their time too much to allow leisure for musical performance, so that with the exception of their call-notes, and their cries of alarm or defiance, they are for a season mute. An early riser, and late in retiring to roost, the Swift is always on the wing. Thus, whether hunting on his own account or on behalf of his mate and nestlings, his employment is unvaried, and the same amount of time is always at his disposal for exercising his vocal powers. These are not great; he has no roundelay; he neither warbles nor carols; he does not even twitter. His whole melody is a scream, unmusical but most joyous; a squeak would be a better name, but that, instead of conveying a notion that it results from pain, it is full of rollicking delight. Some compare it to the noise made by the sharpening of a saw; to me it seems such an expression of pent-up joy as little children would make if unexpectedly released from school, furnished with wings, and flung up into the air for a game of hide-and-seek among the clouds. Such soarings aloft, such chasings round the pinnacles of the church-tower and the gables of the farmhouses, no wonder that they cannot contain themselves for joy. Every day brings its picnic or village feast, with no weariness or depression on the morrow.

The nest of the Swift is constructed of any scraps that the bird may chance to find floating in the air, or brought to it by the wind, for it literally never perches on the ground, whence it rises with difficulty. These are rudely pressed together in any convenient aperture or moulding in a building, and cemented together by some glutinous secretion from the bird's mouth. Two eggs are laid, and the young, as a matter of necessity, remain in the nest until quite fledged.

Another name for the Swift is Black Martin, and in heraldry it is familiarly known as the Martlet, the figure of which is a device of frequent occurrence in heraldic coats of arms, and denotes that the original wearer of the distinction served as a crusader pilgrim. In Arabia it is still known by the name of Hadji, or Pilgrim, to denote its migratory habits.

[16] Livingstone mentions his having seen in the plains north
of Kuruman a flock of Swifts, computed to contain upwards
of 4,000 individuals.

[17] September, 1856, p. 5249.

FAMILY CAPRIMULGIDÆ

THE NIGHTJAR
CAPRIMÚLGUS EUROPÆUS

General plumage ash-grey, spotted and barred with black, brown
and reddish brown; first three primaries with a large white
patch, on the inner web; two outer tail-feathers on each side
tipped with white. Length ten inches and a quarter; breadth
twenty-two inches. Eggs whitish, beautifully marbled with brown
and ash.

This bird used to be described as a nocturnal robber who finds his way into the goat-pens, sucks the dugs of the goats, poisoning them to such an extent that the animals themselves are blinded, and their udders waste away. This fable we notice in order to account for the strange name Goatsucker, by which it was formerly so well known. The bird has, indeed, strangely enough, been known all over Europe by an equivalent for this name from the earliest times. The bird itself is perfectly inoffensive, singular in form and habits, though rarely seen alive near enough for its peculiarities of form and colour to be observed. Its note, however, is familiar enough to persons who are in the habit of being out late at night in such parts of the country as it frequents. The silence of the evening or midnight walk in June is occasionally broken by a deep _churr-churr-err_ which seemingly proceeds from the lower bough of a tree, a hedge, or paling. And a whirring of the wings comes often from their being brought in contact as the birds twist in insect-hunting.[18] The churring is nearly monotonous but not quite so, as it occasionally rises or falls about a quarter of a note, and appears to increase and diminish in loudness. Nor does it seem to proceed continuously from exactly the same spot, but to vary its position, as if the performer were either a ventriloquist or were actually shifting his ground. The bird perches with its feet resting lengthwise on a branch, its claws not being adapted for grasping, and turns its head from side to side, thus throwing the sound as it were in various directions, and producing the same effect as if it proceeded from different places. I have repeatedly worked my way close up to the bird, but as I labour under the disadvantage of being short-sighted, and derive little assistance from glasses at night, I have always failed to observe it actually perched and singing. In the summer of 1859 a Nightjar frequented the immediate neighbourhood of my own house, and I had many opportunities of listening to its note. One evening especially, it perched on a railing within fifty yards of the house, and I made sure of seeing it, but when I had approached within a few yards of the spot from whence the sound proceeded the humming suddenly stopped, but was presently again audible at the other end of the railing which ran across my meadow. I cautiously crept on, but with no better success than before. As I drew near, the bird quitted its perch, flew round me, coming within a few feet of my person, and, on my remaining still, made itself heard from another part of the railing only a few yards behind me. Again and again I dodged it, but always with the same result; I saw it, indeed, several times, but always on the wing. At last a longer interval of silence ensued, and when I heard the sound again it proceeded from a distant hedge which separated the meadow from a common. Here probably its mate was performing the domestic duty of incubation cheered by the dismal ditty of her partner; but I never saw her, though I undertook another nocturnal chase of the musician, hunting him from tree to tree, but never being able to discover his exact position, until the cessation of the sound and the sudden rustling of leaves announced the fact of his having taken his departure.

In the dusk of the evening the Nightjar may commonly be seen hawking for moths and beetles after the manner of the Swallow-tribe, only that the flight is less rapid and more tortuous. I once saw one on the common mentioned above, hawking seemingly in company with Swifts and Swallows during the bright glare of a summer afternoon; but most frequently it spends the day either resting on the ground among heath or ferns or on the branch of a tree, always (according to Yarrell and others) crouching close down upon it, in the line of the limb, and not across it. When perched on the ground it lies very close, 'not rising (a French author says) until the dogs are almost on it, but worth shooting in September'. The poet Wordsworth, whose opportunities of watching the Nightjar in its haunts must have been numerous, knew that the whirring note is an accompaniment of the chase:

The busy Dor-Hawk chases the white moth
With burring note----

The burring Dor-Hawk round and round is wheeling:
That solitary bird
Is all that can be heard
In silence, deeper far than deepest noon.

One point in the economy of the Nightjar is still disputed (1908) the use which it makes of its serrated middle claw. White, and another observer, quoted by Yarrell, have seen the bird while on the wing capture insects with the claw and transfer them to the mouth. Wilson, on the other hand, states that the use of this singular structure is to enable the bird to rid itself of vermin, to which it is much exposed by its habit of remaining at rest during the heat of the day. As he has actually observed a bird in captivity thus employing its claw, it would follow that the same organ is used for a twofold purpose.

The Nightjar is a migratory bird and the last to arrive in this country, appearing not before the middle of May. It is found more or less sparingly in all parts of England, especially those which abound most in woods interspersed with heaths and brakes. In the wooded valleys of Devonshire it is of frequent occurrence, and here it has been known to remain so late in the season as November, whereas from most other localities it migrates southwards about the middle or end of September. It builds no nest, but lays its singularly beautiful eggs, two in number, on the ground among the dry herbage of the common.

Other names by which it is locally known are Fern Owl, Wheeler, and Nightchurr.

[18] Mr. Bell informs me that it is so like the croak of the
Natter-Jack Toad, that he has more than once doubted from
which of the two the sound proceeded.

FAMILY PICIDÆ

SUB-FAMILY PICINÆ

THE GREAT SPOTTED WOODPECKER
DENDROCOPUS MAJOR

Crown and upper plumage black; a crimson patch on the back of
the head; a white spot on each side of the neck; scapulars,
lesser wing-coverts, and under plumage white; abdomen and under
tail-coverts crimson; iris red. _Female_--without the crimson
on the head. Length nine inches and a half; breadth fourteen
inches. Eggs glossy white.

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British Birds in Their HauntsChapter VIII: Part 8

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