Suri Pearse eT Shere ecane teen cit Shenae ere pos = eat reenter eet SSS reel CORNELL UN LV ERS I TY The WILLIAM D. SARGENT Collection ALBERT R. MANN LIBRARY AT CORNELL UNIVERSITY Recreations of a naturalist RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST NEW SCIENTIFIC BOOKS TRAVELS OF A NATURALIST IN NORTHERN EUROPE. By J. A. Harvis- Brown, F.R.S.E., F.Z.S., Joint Author of ‘* Fauna of the Moray Basin,” ‘‘ A Vertebrate Fauna of Orkney,” etc., etc. With 4 Maps, 2 Coloured Plates, and many Illustrations. 2 vols. Small Royal 8vo, cloth. Limited Edition. Uniform with ‘‘Fauna of the Moray Basin.” £3, 38. net. THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF LIVING MATTER. By H. Cuaritron Basrian, M.A., M.D. (London), F.R.S., F.L.S., Emeritus Professor of the Principles and Practice of Medicine, and of Clinical Medicine at University College, London. With 76 Plates. Medium 8vo, cloth. 12s. 6d. net. THE AGE OF THE EARTH, AND OTHER GEOLOGICAL STUDIES. By W. J. Sottas, LL.D., D.Sc., F.R.S., Professor of Geology in the University of Oxford. Illustrated. Demy 8vo, cloth. Ios. 6d. net. HOW TO KNOW THE STARRY HEAVENS. By Epwarp IrvInG. With Charts, Coloured Plates, Diagrams, and many Engravings of Photographs. Demy 8vo, cloth. 8s. 6d. net. Lonpon: T. FISHER UNWIN. RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST BY JAMES EDMUND HARTING AUTHOR OF ‘*A HANDBOOK OF BRITISH BIRDS,” ‘‘ EXTINCT BRITISH ANIMALS, ““THE ORNITHOLOGY OF SHAKESPEARE,” WITH EIGHTY-ONE ILLUSTRATIONS LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN 1 ADELPHI TERRACE. MCMVI. ot 28. [All Rights Reserved] CONTENTS PREFACE In Praise oF HAWKING A MarsH WaLk IN May THE WHEATEAR ON THE SOUTH Downs PacHaM Harzsour PasT AND PRESENT - DEER-LEAPS ANTLERS A Wet Day on THE HILL THE Ways oF GROUSE BLACKCOCK SHOOTING THE DECREASE OF BLACKGAME THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE RED-LEGGED PARTRIDGE CaTCHING WOODPIGEONS THE HorRsE AND ITS HISTORIANS THE ORIGIN OF THE Domestic CaT HUNTING WITH THE CHEETA SHEEP-DOG TRIALS - SWAN*UPPING BIRD-LIFE ON THE BROADS SomME SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY DECcoys THE OLDEST Book ON FISHING vii PAGE xill 13 27 41 63 74 84 92 IOI 108 113 129 138 145 170 178 185 201 213 222 Vill CONTENTS FisHEs TRAPPED BY BLADDERWORT FISH-EATING Bats NaTURE STUDIES IN JAPANESE ART Birps AND LIGHTHOUSES Ture MIGRATION OF WooDCocKs THE EvurRoPEAN Woopcock IN AMERICA WHITE AND PiED WooDcocks SNIPE AND THEIR DISTINCTIONS TWENTY YEARS’ SNIPE-SHOOTING CRANES AT CHRISTMAS THE FascINATION OF LIGHT THE Larcest BIRDS THAT FLY SMALL BIRDS ON MIGRATION CARRIED BY LARGER ONES Marcu Cuckoos Cuckoo Spit - SNAKES SHELTERING THEIR YOUNG Tue MOLE CRICKET THE SHAMROCK THE MISTLETOE aS Foop For Birps Birp-LiFE IN KENSINGTON GARDENS THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE KITE INDEX PAGE 230 234 247 258 278 286 292 298 395 312 320 33° 348 354 361 369 378 387 392 397 404 413 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE AUTHOR WITH a Cast or Hawks Frontispiece THE Sparrow Hawk one THe KESTREL 3 A MERLIN 5 THE PEREGRINE FALCON 6 A Younc GosHAwkK ah A Hoopep FaLcon 9 FALCONER AND Hawks II Tue MarsH IN May 14 THE REED BUNTING 15 THE YELLOW WAGTAIL 17 THE REDSHANK 19 THE BLACK-HEADED GULL 22 THE WHEATEAR 30 TrRaP FOR WHEATEAR 33 SNARE FOR WHEATEAR 37 THE CURLEW 42 THE DUNLING 44 THE SANDERLING 45 Punts ASHORE 47 THE TURNSTONE 49 x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE SLUICE THE GREY PHALAROPE THE WIGEON - Tue FowLer’s SHELTER THE BRENT GOOSE THE FowLer’s Doc A TypicaL FaLtow Buck An Exmoor StTac - A “RovAL” FROM INVERNESS-SHIRE ANOTHER ROYAL A DowNHILL SHOT A DrEap GROUSE A Group oF BLACKGAME THE RED-LEGGED PARTRIDGE WoopEen Mummy Case FoR A Cat A MumMIED Cat AN EcyptiAN FowLer’s Cat MECHANISM OF THE Cat’s CLAW A WiLp Cat WILD CaT SPRINGING ON ITS PREY A MopERN VARIETY THE CHEETA Hoop For CHEETA A ScotcH CoLiuir Doc AN O.p ENGLISH SHEEP-DoG THAMES SWANS Tue Swan’s NEST PAGE 51 53 55 57 59 67 75 77 89 gt 93 103 II5 146 147 149 157 167 169 173 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS NeEw.Ly HatcHEeD CYGNETS THamMEs Swan Marks Swan Marks IN PRESENT USE THE REED WARBLER THE SEDGE WARBLER THE BEARDED TIT THE Coot THE GREAT CRESTED GREBE - AN ANGLER OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY Heap or WocrizLio LEPORINUS Foor oF MocTILI0 LEPORINUS SKULL OF WVocTILIO LEPORINUS A JAPANESE CRANE THE TREE SPARROW A JAPANESE DRAGONFLY Tue LIGHTHOUSE IN MIGRATION TIME A Lost Woopcock A Woopcock’s NEST A Prep Woopcock TaiL FEATHERS OF THE COMMON SNIPE Tai, FEATHERS OF THE PINTAIL SNIPE Tail FEATHERS OF THE GREAT SNIPE Tait FEATHERS OF THE JACK SNIPE A Heron FISHING - A KINGFISHER HOVERING THE LAMMERGEIER THE CONDOR - Xi PAGE 193 195 195 204 205 207 209 228 241 243 245 249 254 256 261 281 283 295 300 301 302 393 325 329 335 339 Xli LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Tue WiLp Swan OR WHOOPER THE WANDERING ALBATROSS - THE BustTarD THE CUCKOO - Tue Cuckoo Spit anp INSECT (APHROPHORA BIFASCIATA) THE ADDER OR VIPER Tue Mo.Le CricKeT aT Work Tue MOoLe CRICKET ON THE WING THE KITE PAGE 341 343 346 355 365 373 380 382 407 PREFACE Near_y three centuries ago it was remarked by Richard Brathwait, in his esteemed and now scarce work, The English Gentleman, that recreations might be of two kinds: those which give health and strength to the body, as hunting, hawking and the like, and those which refresh and stimulate the mind, as when recourse is had to the use of books. In a lengthy discourse on this subject, elaborated with much argument and some anecdote, he institutes a comparison between what he terms ‘““exercises of the mind” and “exercises of the faculties of the body.” The notion even at that date (1633) was by no means new. The unknown author of that much scarcer book, The Iustitucton of a Gentleman, first printed in 1555, asserted that ‘“‘good exercise and honeste pastymes doo muche proffyt both to the healthe of man, and recreation of hys wytte;” and after alluding to “ hawking and hunting as pastymes used of gentlemen which, in their right kinds, are good and allowable,” he xiii xiv PREFACE proceeds to quote from Cicero’ to the effect that indulgence in such sports and pastimes should sometimes give way to graver studies. The expression of these respectable opinions may not inaptly serve by way of preface to the present volume. The essays here collected relate both to outdoor and indoor recreations in the sense above indicated, and the author can truly say that while devotion to field sports has afforded him the chiefest pleasure in life, he has sometimes derived almost as much enjoyment—metaphorically speaking—in “finding a hare” in the library, and hunting it through the preserves of ancient authors until the hunt had a happy termination, or the literary hare escaped to give sport another day. The majority of these essays were contributed at intervals to the Natural History columns of Zhe Field, and my acknowledgments are therefore due to the proprietors of that journal for their courtesy in permitting me to reprint them. They may be said to form a second series of a similar collection published some years ago with the title, Assays on Sport and Natural History. In regard to the illustrations, a few words are 1 “Non ita generati a natura sumus ut ad ludum et jocum facti esse videamur, sed ad severitatem potius, et alia studia graviora.” PREFACE XV necessary. While many of them were designed originally for the articles in which they now reappear, several have been supplied from other sources, Those which adorn the “ Marsh Walk in May,” ‘‘Pagham Harbour,” and “Bird-life on the Broads,” together with ‘The Cuckoo” and “The Kite” have been borrowed from Johns’ British Birds in their Haunts ; for although that little book was published so many years ago that the copyright has long since expired, the illustra- tions by the master hand of Joseph Wolf still remain the best of their kind, being veritable portraits of the birds they represent. For the cuts of the “Egyptian Fowler,” the “Mummied Cat,’ and “Mummy Case,” which appear in “ The Origin of the Domestic Cat,” J have to thank Messrs George Bell & Sons, and to the proprietors of Country Life 1 am _ particularly indebted for permission to make use of half a dozen illustrations from that journal, which have been reduced in size, and adapted to present require- ments. The ‘Dead Grouse,” the ‘‘ Kingfisher Hover- ing,” and ‘‘ The Largest Birds that Fly,” (pp. 335- 343), have been reproduced from original sketches by Mr George Lodge, while Captain H. Hart Davis has not only permitted the reduction of an appropriate illustration (p. 91) from his Stalking xvi PREFACE Sketches, but has most kindly furnished an additional cut (p. 89) from an original sketch of his own. In the production of all these, an effort has been made to supply figures which are not only appropriate to the text, but have the merit of being accurate delineations of the species they are intended to represent. J. E. HARTING. WEYBRIDGE, November 1905. Recreations of a Naturalist IN PRAISE OF HAWKING THERE is an old-world sound in the word “‘ Hawk- ing” which carries one back to the days when every treatise on English field sports, from the Book of St Albans onwards, contained a chapter on the art of falconry, and every man according to his social rank had a particular kind of hawk assigned to him. The humbler the falconer the more ig- noble was the bird he carried; the most valuable species, often imported at great cost from abroad, being reserved for princes and noblemen, as befitted their position. To the former class belonged the Kestrel and Sparrow Hawk, to the latter the Falcon gentle, the Goshawk, and the Jerfalcon. Sothoroughly smitten were our early kings with the love of hawking as a recreation that stringent laws were passed to pro- tect the eyries, or nests, and fine or imprisonment awaited those who ventured to steal another man’s hawk and refused to restore it to its rightful owner.. Henry VIII., by an Act passed in the thirty-first year of his reign, made it a felony to 1 tr: Hen. VII. cap. 17, repealed by 1 & 2 Will. IV. cap. 32. A I 2 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST take the King’s nestling falcons or eggs out of the nest, or to capture any of the King’s hawks and Vee aes ee : A Z f THE SPARROW HAWK. neglect to deliver them within twelve days to one of the royal falconers.? James I. gave great encouragement to field 131 Hen. VIII. cap. 12, repealed by the Statute Law Re- vision Act, 1863. IN PRAISE OF HAWKING 3 sports, and was particularly fond of hare-hunting with beagles, and hawking. On the latter sport he expended annually a vast amount of time and Yj A THE KESTREL. money, and was never so pleased as when he had a few of the leading falconers of France to witness some of the wonderful flights at the Kite with Jerfalcons which Sir Thomas Monson provided for him. 4 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST All the Stuarts were fond of hawking, but after the Restoration the sport ceased to be popular. The causes which led to its decline were many and various. The disastrous state of the country during the period of the Civil Wars naturally put an end for the time being to the general indulgence in field sports. The inclosure of waste lands, the drainage and cultivation of marshes, the great improvement in firearms, and particularly the introduction of shot, all contributed to lessen the interest once so universally taken in this sport. Fashion, also, had no doubt much to do with the decline of hawking, for so soon as the reigning sovereign ceased to take an interest in the sport, the courtiers and their friends followed suit. Nevertheless, it never en- tirely died out, and from that time to the present it has not ceased to be practised by at least a few admirers of the old sport in different parts of the country, while during the past twenty years indica- tions have not been wanting of its increasing popularity. The general public have little opportunity for seeing trained hawks flown, since the ‘‘meets”’ are not advertised as in the case of hounds, and the birds, therefore, are seldom seen, save in transit, by any but the owners and their friends. One by one the old professional falconers have died out. John Anderson, John Pells, Peter Ballantine, the brothers Barr, Adrian Mollen and John Frost have all passed away, leaving only the traditions of their craft to younger followers, who, deprived of their teaching, have had to learn to IN PRAISE OF HAWKING 5 train hawks by personal experiment, and begin de movo to discover the secrets of a decadent art. During the past twenty years the practice of hawking in this country has received a great check by the deaths of several notable falconers who, for A MERLIN. the greater part of their lives, did much to encour- age the old sport and uphold its traditions. Such names as those of Freeman, Salvin, Brodrick, Willimot, Fisher, and the late Lord Lilford, are ‘‘household words” with the present generation of falconers, and only those who, like the writer, had the privilege of knowing them all, can fully realise 6 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST what a loss to the cause is implied by their decease. Thanks, however, to the active members of the Old Hawking Club, with their skilful falconer, George Oxer, the old sport is still maintained, and a goodly number of Falcons are trained every year to show sport with Rooks on the downs in THE PEREGRINE FALCON. early spring, and game in the autumn. Many others might be named who, although not members of the club, follow its example and keep hawks of their own in different parts of the country. Thus the old sport is in no immediate danger of ex- tinction, although it must be confessed that many ‘‘signs of the times” are by no means favourable IN PRAISE OF HAWKING a to its continuance. A wide extent of open country is a seve gua non for flying long-winged hawks such as the Peregrine Falcon and Merlin—and this is becoming every day more and more difficult A YOUNG GOSHAWK. to secure. In the woodlands and more enclosed parts of the country they would speedily be lost owing to the height at which they fly, and the ease with which they would pass out of sight, to say nothing of the surrounding covert into which the quarry would dash when pursued, to the disappoint- 8 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST ment of the hawks and their owners. But all things in Nature have their appointed places, and in an enclosed country, with proper management, good sport may be obtained with short-winged hawks like the Goshawk and Sparrow Hawk. For these are flown from the fist after the quarry has been flushed, and are not, like the long-winged hawks, cast off to range at a great height before the game is found. The Goshawk by nature will take Rabbits, Hares, Pheasants, Partridges, Wild Ducks and Water-hens, and may be trained to do so for its ownersamusement. The Sparrow Hawk, also, will take young Partridges early in the autumn, but shows the best sport when flying at Blackbirds and Thrushes in the turnip fields to which these birds are in the habit of resorting in autumn. Hawking, like other field sports, has its proper seasons. In the early spring the falconer trains the long-winged falcons to fly at Rooks, Carrion Crows, and Magpies on the open downs. Towards the end of summer the Merlin affords some pretty flights at mounting Larks. By the twelfth of August the falcons are once more ready for the moors, and no more beautiful sight can be witnessed than that of a high-couraged Falcon ‘‘stooping” downward from an immense height at a fast-flying Grouse and hurling it head- long into the heather. The same bird also in September will make equally short work of the Partridges in a way that is perfectly astonishing to those who are not familiar with the sight. Besides game in autumn, young Wild Ducks may be IN PRAISE OF HAWKING 9 killed with the hawks, and afford better sport than “flapper shooting,” while rabbits, which, like the poor, “are always with us,” afford flights for the Goshawk at any time. Thus it may be said that a man who is fond of Hawks may find something for them to do for the greater part of the year. As to the method of training them, to enter into details would require more space than can be here afforded. More- over, I have already devoted an entire volume to the sub- ject... Suffice it to state that the prin- ciples involved are: first, to make a hawk tame by handling and feeding it, hood- ing and unhooding it, giving it proper food, and water at intervals to bathe in; secondly, to teach it to come to a lure to be fed, increasing day by day the distance it has to fly, at first with a line attached to the A HOODED FALCON. 1 Fints on the Management of Hawks. Second Edition, with numerous illustrations. Horace Cox, 1898. 10 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST jesses,! and then without it; thirdly, to enter the hawk to the particular quarry for which it is intended; and lastly, to fly the bird fasting and reward it for killing, or for coming back to the lure if the quarry should escape. Here it may be well to add a few remarks upon the charge of cruelty which is sometimes brought against falconers by those who have no acquaintance with the details of the sport. ‘‘It is surely very cruel,” they say, ‘‘to let a poor bird be torn in pieces by a ferocious hawk.” The answer is, the poor bird is not torn in pieces, and the hawk is not ferocious, but as gentle and docile as any well-behaved dog that obeys its owner's wishes. It merely exercises its natural instinct by killing prey to appease its hunger, and kills it, moreover, in a very merciful manner. Having struck down with its talons the bird it pursues, it seizes it on the ground with both feet, and while holding it securely, grasps the neck with its beak, jerks it up ) suddenly with a sharp twist, and thus severs the .spinal cord. The bird is, therefore, killed much ‘more mercifully and speedily than often happens ,when a Pheasant or Partridge has been brought down with a charge of shot, and as a game bird killed by a hawk is always put in the game bag for future consumption by the owner or his friends, it is a mistake to suppose that it is torn in pieces by the hawk. Having seen scores of Grouse and Partridges taken by trained 1The light leather straps that are fastened one to each leg, the ends being attached to a swivel. IN PRAISE OF HAWKING Tet Falcons, I can speak with some assurance on the subject. There is unfortunately an element of cruelty in every branch of field sports. Would it were other- FALCONER AND HAWKS, wise ; but if hawking were to be discountenanced on that score alone, the days of coursing and fox- hunting would likewise have to be numbered. Every true sportsman, who is also a lover of the beautiful in Nature, will avoid causing unnecessary 12 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST pain to the dumb creatures which contribute to his sport, while providing him at the same time with wholesome food. Where the cruelty comes in, is in the use of such implements as the “pole trap,” now happily prohibited by Act of Parliament, and the iron ‘‘gin” employed for taking rabbits and so- called ‘‘ vermin,” which provide no sport of any kind to the user of them, and must inflict intolerable pain. If in the interests of game preserving hawks are not to be tolerated in the neighbourhood of grouse moors, or partridge manors, it is easy to get rid of them in a more merciful way than by means of an iron trap or a charge of shot. There are several ways of taking them alive and uninjured for the benefit of falconers or bird fanciers, and many a gamekeeper, giving his attention to the subject, would in course of time discover that a live hawk is worth far more to him than a dead one. As many persons profess themselves unable to distinguish one kind of hawk from another, illustrations are here given of the four commoner species which are most likely to be met with, together with the Goshawk which now seldom visits this country, and which, when required by a falconer, has usually to be imported from France or Germany. A MARSH WALK IN MAY For real enjoyment of a country walk, much must necessarily depend upon the season at which it is undertaken. In the woodlands, it is true, fresh beauty may be discerned at almost any season of the year, and the glowing, varying tones of autumn are in their own way quite as lovely to contemplate as the pale yet vivid tints of spring. In the marsh, however, it is different, and for many months in the year the landscape presents the appearance of a dreary desolate waste. No trees to break the mono- tony of the flat and flowerless fields, intersected only by broad dykes, with here and there a footbridge for the shepherds to reach their flocks; the inter- minable plain stretches on and on till it meets the dim outline of the distant sea-wall, or is lost in an overhanging veil of mist. There are times, indeed, as in the month of November, when the marsh appears perfectly deserted. Not a sound is heard, and there is hardly any sign of life. A few Larks in scattered flocks rise at intervals in front of the in- truder, a Reed Bunting or two in the dykes, and here and there, like a dot upon the plain, a Grey Crow may be seen busily employed, perhaps in opening a mussel, or searching for the well-buried larve of some beetle. 13 ‘AVA NI HSUVA AIL A MARSH WALK IN MAY 15 Long lines of yellow reeds mark the course of the fen ditches, wherein, if he have luck, the shooter may now and then flush a Snipe, or come suddenly upon a skulking Duck and Mallard—his sole reward for a long dull tramp in search of sport, unless per- chance he should have the good fortune to drop upon a covey of Partridges in the dry rushes, and tf a THE REED BUNTING. secure a brace before they have placed a dozen dykes between themselves and him. Six months later all is changed, and the naturalist, who for the first time essays a marsh walk, say in Kent, in the month of May, will marvel at the transformation scene presented. As we step off the dusty road from Rye across the marsh, over which the wind still sweeps keenly 16 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST from the sea, we catch sight of a littke yellow bird, long and slender, moving rapidly to and fro, snapping at insects as it goes, and pausing after every effort to recover its balance, as it were, by a vigorous up- and-down movement of the tail. Thisis the Yellow Wagtail (AZotaczlla Rayz), which comes to us in April and departs in September. The breast of the cock bird looks as bright as that of any Canary, the hen, though in close attendance upon her mate, almost escaping detection from the comparative sombreness of her plumage. In point of numbers at this time of year, this little bird may be said to be the commonest in the marsh, scattered pairs coming into view at almost every hundred yards. They make a skilfully concealed nest in a depression of the ground, often upon the bank of a marsh dyke, under shelter of some overhanging tuft, and lay five eggs of a dull clay colour, which at a little distance looks uniform, but which, upon close inspection, is seen to be distributed in fine specks over the surface. So inconspicuous is the nest, that, unless the birds are watched to or from it, an hour’s search for it might prove unavailing. The common Pied Wagtail, so familiar by the village pond side, is seldom seen upon the marsh in May, not more than one pair for every hundred of the yellow bird being visible. It appears to prefer the neighbourhood of man’s dwelling, often building its nest in ivy close to the house, and laying a somewhat larger, whiter-looking egg, albeit it is minutely freckled with grey. Wherever the ground is hillocky, affording room A MARSH WALK IN MAY 17 for temporary concealment, the Wheatear suddenly appears and disappears. He is a timorous bird, easily alarmed ; and on the warrens which he most loves to frequent, he will often take refuge in a rabbit burrow. Some birds appear commoner in the marshes in August and September, after the young are hatched, THE YELLOW WAGTAIL. than they doin May. The Meadow Pipit is one of these. During the first week of September, when in pursuit of Partridges, we may often see scores of these little birds on the marsh, jumping up at intervals almost under our feet, and hurrying off with a spasmodic, jerky flight and sharp twittering note. In May, however, only a few scattered pairs are to be observed on the marsh, the majority having gone further inland for the breeding season. B 18 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST As we come to an angle of a dyke, where the winter floods have scooped out a little bay and left a small shelving bank of mud, we disturb a pair of Summer Snipe (Zotanus hypoleucus), which go skimming away down the dyke uttering a sharp “weet, weet, weet.” They too are only passing visitors, and do not breed here. We have found their nests, with four pear-shaped handsomely marked eggs, by the moorland streams in Northumberland, Durham, and North Wales, but never heard of their breeding in a south-country marsh. They can swim and dive well on an emergency, especially if shot at and wounded, or if pursued by ahawk. Hawks, by the way, are not common in the marshes in May, being away nesting either in the woods inland, or in the nearest sea cliffs many miles off. An occasional Kestrel, however, may be seen hovering over the marsh in search of food, intent probably in watching for the reappearance of a water-rat upon a dyke bank or the more easily captured Short-tailed Meadow Vole (Arvicola agrestis). In winter the Merlin makes its appearance, and has a good time of it amongst the Larks and Meadow Pipits, occasionally trying conclusions, not unsuccessfully, with a Snipe. But the birds which of all others possess the greatest interest for us in May are those which resort to the marsh for breeding—the Peewit, the Redshank, the Black-headed Gull. The Peewit, at all times wary and suspicious, is especially so in the breeding season, and rises with loud cries while we are yet a long way from itsnest. Flying round and A MARSH WALK IN MAY 19 round, and at times coming right overhead within shot, it endeavours by every artifice to divert our attention and lead us away from the spot where its eggs or young are lying. The ground is still very bare, and there is little or no nest; the eggs are therefore not very hard to find, if the birds are first watched from a distance. Those who make a a . wy | THE REDSHANK. ’ business of collecting ‘“ Plovers’ eggs” for the market, and whose eyes are well trained to the work, have a wonderful knack of marking the precise position of a nest from a distance after watching the birds, and walking straight to it. To do this, however, requires some practice ; the eye must be steadfastly kept upon the spot once marked, heedless of all the attempted distractions 20 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST by the parent bird. Amidst the sharp and pro- longed ‘ pee-wit” uttered by some half dozen pairs around us on the wing, we hear the very different and more musical note of the Redshank—“‘teeou- too, teeou-too-too”—and soon catch sight of one topping a reed bed and flying, not unlike a Snipe, away from the intruder As we proceed, another and another starts up, one of which, hovering over a post-and-rail fence, descends lightly on the top of one of the posts, where it remains for some seconds curtseying and nodding in all directions, until, at our continued approach, it again takes wing, and for a time disappears from view. The sight of so many in this particular part of the marsh fills us with the expectation and hope of finding anest, and we have not far to search before discovering three, distinguishable from those of the Peewit by having rather more materials, moreneatly puttogether. The eggs to the unwary are sufficiently like ‘‘ Plovers’ eggs” to do duty for them in a basketful, but they are really smaller, more pointed at the narrow end, with a paler ground colour blotched with reddish- brown instead of black. Four is the full comple- ment, and, when these are laid and incubation has fairly commenced, the birds become very noisy on being disturbed, and very reluctant to leave the spot, flying round and round the intruder, like Lapwings. The old English name of “ Pool Snipe” bestowed upon the Redshank is a most appropriate one, for it is one of the most characteristic ornaments of a marsh pool in May. In autumn, when the young A MARSH WALK IN MAY aX are strong on the wing, and both young and old assemble in flocks, they betake themselves to the coast, where, in the harbours at low water, or on the sands during an ebbing tide, they may be seen busily feeding on small mollusca, fish, and shrimps, of which they seem very fond, but which impart a strong, disagreeable flavour to the bird when cooked. For this reason Redshanks, if wanted for the table (and they are excellent eating), should be always secured before they get down to the salt water. They are then as good as Snipe. The same remark applies to the Curlew, which breeds upon the moors and comes down to the coast in autumn. According to the old distich, “* A Curlew, be she white or black, Carries twelve pence on her back,” referring to the market value of a bird which was formerly much esteemed for the table. It is not unlikely that the ‘Black Curlew” may have been the Glossy Ibis, which has a Curlew-like bill, and which, before the drainage of the great fens in Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Cambridge, and Huntingdon, was more frequently met with than at the present day. Lubbock, in his Fauna of Norfolk, written in 1845, says: ‘Fifty years back the Glossy Ibis was seen often enough to be known to gunners and fishermen as the Black Curlew.” Following the straight course of a long dyke, wherein a yellow fringe of last year’s reeds uncut afford shelter to several Reed Warblers (which, how- ever, have not yet commenced to build), we are 22 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST led to a large shallow pool, so completely covered with growing reeds, already a foot above the surface, that at a little distance it might be supposed to be Zerra firma. The water, however, is a foot or two deep, in some places more, and it is a treacherous place to walk through. As we approach, several Black-headed Gulls, which till THE BLACK-HEADED GULL. then had been sitting concealed upon their nests, rise above the reed tops, and come flying towards us with angry cries, irritated at the invasion of their breeding quarters. But we are not maliciously disposed. We shall merely wade out into the reed bed and look at the nests, taking an egg here and there which may strike us as being particularly handsome, to add to a collection which already contains many a souvenir of a summer day’s ramble. A MARSH WALK IN MAY 23 Hardly do we set foot within the Gulls’ sanctuary than a scene of much temporary confusion ensues. Gulls in numbers rise before us; Coots and Moor- hens scuttle away in all directions; a fine old Mallard springs into the air, and a splash of wings succeeded by a dive shows us where the Duck has just disappeared, leaving a tiny brood of young but lately hatched to save themselves by hiding amongst the sprouting reeds. From the far end of the pool a great grey Heron slowly gets upon the wing, and with an awkward flapping flight sails out over the marsh. Another joins him just beyond, and the two eventually drop into a distant dyke, where they are lost to view. It is a wonderfully beautiful and animated scene, as we stand knee-deep in water, to contemplate it. The birds are not to: be persuaded of our peaceful intentions, but continue to circle over and around us with noisy cries. The Coots pass and repass us within gunshot; the Gulls hover overhead; the Peewits, though keeping over the drier portions of the marsh, continue to make themselves seen and heard; and the Reed Warblers chatter incessantly, while every now and then a Redshank dashes by, waking the echoes of the wild waste with its fine loud notes of warning. We need not long remain here, for we have no wish unnecessarily to alarm the birds, and, more- over, the water is cold. Picking up an egg here and there of Coot, Gull, and Moorhen, we make for terra firma, and continue on our way across the marsh. 24 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST We are yet some way from the sea, but it is still possible to reach the great shingle beach which looms in the distance, and towards this we turn our steps, hoping when we get there to add several fresh species to the list of birds already noted. On our way we unexpectedly come upon some Whimbrel feeding out in the marsh. Not unlike a Curlew, though smaller in size, this bird in Sussex is called ‘‘ Titterel” from its note, and in Norfolk is known as “Maybird,” from the regularity of its appearance in that month, when on its migration northwards to its breeding grounds. In the autumn, when the young birds return in small flocks, they are pretty tame, and may be easily approached or whistled round within gunshot; but the old birds going north in spring are more wary, and can only be approached by careful stalking. In the present instance we only see and hear enough to enable us to identify the species, and the birds are soon out of sight. Just before reaching the sea beach, we note some Curlews feeding out in a marsh amongst the sheep, and they seem pretty tame until we stop to bring our field-glasses upon them, when they hurriedly take wing towards the sea, and are soon lost to view. Hardly do we set foot upon the shingle when a pair of Ringed Plovers rise close before us, and by their noisy cries, as they fly round us in circles, seem to intimate that they have eggs near at hand. A somewhat hasty search, however, fails to reveal them, and we leave the Plovers in undisturbed A MARSH WALK IN MAY 25 possession. Where the shingle borders the marsh farm, large patches of furze abound, now in full golden bloom ; and while we are speculating upon the expected appearance of the Stonechat, a hen Partridge gets up with much fuss and clamour, and is shortly joined by the cock bird, who has run forward a few yards on hearing us approach. There is evidently a nest at hand in the furze; but we do not waste time in looking for it, for it is four o’clock, and we are a long way from home. The sight of white wings in the distance, amidst which we note a Black-backed Gull, leads us on some way further over the beach; but the Gulls retire as we approach, and we make no better acquaintance with them. On our way home across the marsh we catch sight of a Dabchick, or Little Grebe, in one of the dykes, and add a few more species, somewhat un- expectedly, to our list of birds noted. Amongst others we see three Cuckoos, two of them flying in company. Were they late arrivals just coming in from sea? or had they been visiting the reed beds to see if any Reed Warblers’ nests were yet ready to receive their eggs? About one of the marsh farms (the only spots on the marsh where any trees are to be found) a solitary pair of Mistle Thrushes fly round with their well-known noisy screech. Starlings and Sparrows are busy carrying food to their young, and on the nearest dyke bank a fine Reed Bunting, with jet black head and white collar, displays him- self to great advantage. 26 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST Gradually, as the sun nears the horizon, and the failing light betokens the lateness of the hour, a solemn stillness reigns over the marsh. The noisy cries of the Peewits are no longer heard, the Red- shanks are silent, and the Gulls have settled down again upon their nests. A dull mist begins to rise, and in another hour will have hidden from view the landscape, with all its bird life, which but lately we so much admired. THE WHEATEAR ON THE SOUTH DOWNS Amoncst the good things of Sussex enumerated by John Ray in his Zuglish Proverbs (ed. 1742, p. 262), we find mention made of a “Bourn Wheatear.” The usually accepted version credits Sussex with the production of four delicacies, which, according to Izaak Walton, were stated to be, in 1653, a Selsea cockle, a Chichester lobster, an Arundel mullet, and an Amberley trout. Ray, however, enumerates seven, the other three being a Pulborough eel, a Rye herring, and a Bourn Wheatear, which he says ‘‘are the best in their kind, understand it of those that are taken in this country.” By a ‘‘Bourn Wheatear” we are to understand a Wheatear taken on the downs near Eastbourne by a device, presently to be described, which was much in vogue with the Southdown shepherds at the end of the eighteenth and begin- ning of the nineteenth century. ‘‘Wheatears” says Fuller, writing of Sussex, in 1662, somewhat before the publication of Ray’s Proverbs, “is a bird peculiar to this county— hardly found out of it. It is so called because fattest when wheat is ripe, whereon it feeds; being no bigger than a Lark, which it equalleth in the 27 28 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST fineness of the flesh, and far exceedeth in the fatness thereof. The worst is, that being only seasonable in the heat of summer, and naturally larded with lumps of fat, it is soon subject to corrupt, so that (though abounding within forty miles) London poulterers have no mind to meddle with them, which no care in carriage can keep from putrefac- tion. That palate-man’ shall pass in silence who, being seriously demanded his judgment concerning the abilities of a great lord, concluded him a man of very weak parts because he saw him ata great feast feed on Chickens when there were Wheatears on the table.”— Worthies of England, vol. ii. p. 382. This account, having been written more than two centuries ago, when little or nothing was known of the habits of our migratory birds, is, as might be expected, not altogether free from errors. In sup- posing the Wheatear to be hardly found out of the county of Sussex, Fuller seems to have considered it a resident species, whereas, as we now know, it is a summer migrant, arriving towards the end of March, and departing in September. His state- ment that it feeds on wheat must have been a pure conjecture, arising from a guess at the meaning of its name, for, so far from being found in the neigh- bourhood of cornfields, its haunts are on the wide, open downs, fallow fields, and sandy warrens, where its diet consists of insects and their larve, and small thin-shelled mollusca. The suggestion that the Wheatear is so called ‘“because fattest when wheat is ripe” sounds 1 Cf Willughby, Ornithology, 1678, s.v. “ Partridge.” WHEATEAR ON SOUTH DOWNS = 29 plausible enough, though it is far from the truth, the fact being that our Saxon forefathers gave it a name (as they did to the Redstart, z.e., Red-tail; and Wagtail, of which Wag-start is the older form) from a very noticeable peculiarity, namely its white rump, which is so conspicuous when the bird is in motion. It is, in fact, a corrupted form of the older word ““wheatears” for ‘“white-ears” (from the Anglo- Saxon 4vit and ears, the tail, or rump), which was mistaken for a plural. That this is the true ex- planation, as long ago pointed out by the present writer (/ze/d, April 1, 1871), there can be no doubt. In the third letter of Smollett’s Zravels through france and Italy (1766) we find the remark :— “There is... great plenty of the birds so much admired at Tunbridge under the name of ‘Wheatears.” By the bye, this is a pleasant corruption of the translation of their French name Cul-blanc, taken from their colour, for they are actually white towards the tail.” Bishop Mant, also, in his Lrztzsk Months, writes :— “Fain would I see the Wheatear show On the dark sward his rump of snow Of spotless brightness.” Thus we have excellent authority for this inter- pretation, which is confirmed by the names “‘ White- rump ” and ‘“‘ White-tail,” which are still applied to this bird in different parts of the country. The abundance of Wheatears at certain seasons on the downs of Hampshire and Sussex was noticed by Gilbert White in a letter to the Hon. Daines 30 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST Barrington in December 1773, and the number of these birds which used to be taken years ago upon the South Downs in autumn was a matter of notoriety. ‘‘Hereabouts,” says an old chronicle of East- bourne, ‘‘is the chief place for catching the delicious birds called Wheatears, which much resemble the French Ortolans,” and they have played an im- portant part in the history of this town. Squire THE WHEATEAR. William Wilson, of Hitchin, Lord of the Manor of Eastbourne, was in Oliver Cromwell’s time vehe- mently suspected of loyalty to the Stuarts, and one Lieut. Hopkins with a troop of dragoons swooped down into Eastbourne to search the squire’s house, and, if needful, to arrest him as a malignant. The squire was laid up with the gout, but Mistress Wilson, his true wife, with the rarely failing shrewd- ness of her sex, at once placed before Lieut. Hopkins and his troopers a prodigious pie filled with Wheatears, which rare repast, the chronicle WHEATEAR ON SOUTH DOWNS | 31 goes on to say, the soldiers did taste with so much amazement, delight, and jollity, that the squire upstairs had ample time to burn all the papers that would compromise him ; and when Lieut. Hopkins, full of Wheatear pie, came to search the house, there was not so much treasonable matter found as could have brought a mouse within the perils of a premunire, At the Restoration, the lord of the manor became Sir William Wilson, of Eastbourne, a dignity well earned by his devotion to the royal cause; but the chronicle goes on to hint that Charles II. was passionately fond of Wheatears, and that possibly the liberality of the squire in supplying his Majesty’s table with these delicacies may have had something to do with the creation of the baronetcy. Gilbert White, in one of his letters to Pennant, wrote: ‘‘Some Wheatears continue with us the winter through ;” but Sir William Jardine, in a foot- note to his edition of White’s Se/dorne, conjectured that on this point he was mistaken. He perhaps thought that some had remained throughout the winter, from having seen them in March on their earliest arrival in spring. Writing to Daines Barrington in December 1773 (Letter xvii.), and describing a journey over the downs from Selborne in Hants to Ringmer in Sussex, he remarked :— ‘Notwithstanding all my care, I saw nothing like a summer bird of passage ; and, what is more strange, not one Wheatear, though they abound so in the autumn as to be a considerable perquisite to the shepherds that take them; and though many 32 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST are to be seen to my knowledge all the winter through in many parts of the south of England. The most intelligent shepherds tell me that some few of these birds appear on the downs in March, and then withdraw to breed, probably in warrens and stone quarries. Now and then a nest is ploughed up in a fallow on the downs under a furrow, but it is thought a rarity. At the time of wheat harvest they begin to be taken in great numbers, are sent for sale in vast quantities to Brighthelmstone and Tunbridge, and appear at the tables of all the gentry that entertain with any degree of elegance. About Michaelmas they retire, and are seen no more till March. Though these birds are when in season in great plenty on the South Downs round Lewes, yet at Eastbourne, which is the eastern extremity of those downs, they abound much more. One thing is very remarkable —that though in the height of the season so many hundreds of dozens are taken, yet they never are seen to flock, and it is a rare thing to see more than three or four at a time, so that there must be a perpetual flitting and constant progressive suc- cession.” He concludes with an observation, which at the present day seems to require some correction, namely :— “It does notappear that any Wheatears are taken to the westward of Houghton Bridge, which stands on the river Arun.” This is a mistake. We have frequently seen Wheatears in spring on the downs above Chichester, WHEATEAR ON SOUTH DOWNS _ 33 and in autumn on the low-lying ground between Bognor and Selsea Bill. Many pairs breed annually on the South downs, near Uppark, in the parish of Harting, which is within a few miles of the borders of Hants, and not very far from Selborne. The method of catching Wheatears adopted by the Southdown shepherds while tending their flocks was as simple as it was effectual. It appears also to be of some antiquity. Willughby, in 1676, TRAP FOR WHEATEAR. described it in his Ovuzthologia, which two years later was translated by his friend Ray. The pas- sage in the English version (p. 233) runs thus :— “The Sussex shepherds to catch these birds, use this art. They dig long turves of earth and lay them across the holes whereout they were digged, and about the middle of them hang snares made ot horse hair. The birds being naturally very timorous ifa Hawk happens to appear, or but a cloud pass over and intercept the sunbeams, hastily run to hide themselves in the holes under the turves, and so are Cc 34 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST caught by the neck in the snares. Upon the downs of Sussex, which are a ridge of mountains running all along by the sea coast for thirty or forty miles in length, they are taken yearly in great numbers in harvest time or the beginning of autumn, where for their fatness and delicate relish they are highly prized.” Macky, in his Journey through England, 1732 (1. 125), has thus referred to the Sussex Wheatears :— “T lay at a pretty village called Eastborn and supp'd upon some little birds call’d Wheatears, resembling our Ortolans. This is the chief place where these birds are taken. I had the pleasure of going out the next morning a-catching of them with a shepherd, and took two dozen for a break- fast. The manner of catching them is very particular ; they cut a turf of about a foot long and half a foot deep, and turn the turf to cover the hole, in which they put a snare of horse hair, and the birds, being very shy, on the approach of any one, running into these holes for shelter, are taken.” Gilbert White’s correspondent, William Mark- wick, who lived at Catsfield, near Battle, about five miles from the sea, contributed a useful ‘‘ Catalogue of Birds found in the County of Sussex” to the Transactions of the Linnean Soctety in May 1795. In this Catalogue he notices the Wheatears as being “found in great plenty on our South Downs,” and after referring to the traps used by the shepherds for capturing them, described as horse-hair nooses placed under a sod of turf dug out of the ground WHEATEAR ON SOUTH DOWNS 35 for that purpose, adds the following remarks: ‘They are first set up every year on St James’s Day, the 25th of July, soon after which time they are caught in numbers truly astonishing. .. . Observing that all the birds which were caught in the proper season had the same coloured plumage as the hen bird, I made some inquiries respecting them of a shepherd at East Bourn, who informed me that the flight consisted chiefly of young birds, which arrived in the greatest numbers when westerly wind pre- vailed, and that they always came against the wind. He told me that on the 15th and 16th of August 1792, he caught twenty-seven dozen with only a few old birdsamongst them ; but this is a small number when compared with the almost incredible quantity sometimes taken. A gentleman informed me that his father’s shepherd once caught eighty-four dozen in aday.” Even a greater number than this must have fallen to the share of a shepherd remembered by a friend of the late Mr M. A. Lower. This man, after having filled a large bag and his wife’s apron with the game, was fain to take off his round smock and to fasten the neck and sleeves of that rustic garment by way of sack, which he filled to repletion with his delicious victims (Lower, Contributions to Literature, p. 153). It was for- merly a common practice for wayfarers on coming to a Wheatear trap to take out the bird and to leave a penny as a guzd pro guo. The late Rev. Leonard Blomefield (formerly Jenyns), who died in September 1893, at the advanced age of ninety-three, and whose Manual 36 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST of British Vertebrate Animals, published in 1835, is even now a useful book of reference, has left behind him a pleasing reminiscence of the ‘‘ Bourn Wheatears.” In a little memoir of his friend William Yarrell, who died in 1856, printed for private distribution only, he wrote in 1885 :— ““One summer, I think it must have been about 1831, Yarrell and myself, being full of the subject of British fishes, agreed upon a trip to the south coast to see what novelties we could get there, or specimens in further illustration of the materials we had already got together for our respective works. . . . One afternoon during our stay at Eastbourne we strolled on to the downs, and had a long chat with one of the shepherd boys who—while the season lasts—make a rich harvest by catching Wheatears for the table. It was then just the time (September), and the birds were beginning to collect in large numbers on the downs previous to migration. We were greatly amused at the boy’s eagerness for the sport. His whole soul was wrapt up in it—even to the imagining, in his simplicity, that one purpose for which Parliament met was to determine the exact day when Wheatear catching | should begin. I remember giving him twopence for one of his snares, which I have by me still. Of course, we had Wheatears for dinner that day, and being the choice dish of the place, which Eastbourne cooks know very well how to prepare, they were deliciously served up.” Of this snare, bought from a Sussex shepherd, Mr Blomefield afterwards sent me a sketch of the ‘UVELVAHM YOL AUVNS —— ‘SES wroge — thy aoe oe tag Ty Foggys a CT ye anf wey Ms THA“ fy wary 38 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST natural size, with an inscription in his own hand- writing, of which a facsimile is here given. It will be seen that by inserting this con- trivance in the opening which has been cut in the ground immediately under the turf which is laid across the hole thus made, a double horse-hair snare is set in such a manner that a Wheatear passing under the sod cannot escape being caught. One of the last of the old race of Southdown shepherds was John Dudeney, of Plumpton—a man so remarkable in his way that he was thought deserving of mention in Lower’s Sussex Wor- thies. Although following so humble an avoca- tion, he by no means neglected education, but found time and opportunity to learn geography, mathe- matics, and even French. His acquirements at Jength placed him so much above his station that he was prevailed upon to give up the care of sheep, and, obtaining a situation in the printing office of Mr Baxter, of Lewes, he lived to impart information to hundreds of Sussex folk who, with- out his assistance, would have received no educa- tion of any kind. He was one of the founders of the Mechanics’ Institute at Lewes, where he used to give lectures, and continued his tuition until within a few weeks of his death, which occurred in May 1852, in the seventieth year of his age. His biographer tells us that :— ‘All his youthful savings were expended in the purchase of books. His wages were six pounds a year, and perquisites were derived from his master allowing him to keep a sheep (whose lamb and WHEATEAR ON SOUTH DOWNS _ 39 wool brought him about fifteen shillings a year) and from the capture of Wheatears—the English Ortolan —then much more abundant on the downs than now.” In a communication which he made at an advanced period of his life to Mr R. W. Blencowe, he said :— “At midsummer 1802 I went to be head shepherd to Mr James Ingram of Rottingdean. The farm was called the Westside Farm, extend- ing from Rottingdean to Blackrock in Brighton parish ; it was a long narrow strip of ground, not averaging more than half a mile in width, and extending along the sea coast. I caught great numbers of Wheatears during the season for taking them, which lasts from the middle of July to the end of August. The most I ever caught in one day was thirteen dozen ; but we thought it a good day if we caught three or four dozen. We sold them to a poulterer at Brighton, who took all we could catch in the season at eighteenpence a dozen. From what I have heard from old shepherds it cannot be doubted that they were caught in much greater numbers a century ago than of late. I have heard them speak of an immense number being taken in one day by a shepherd at East Dean, near Beachy Head. I think they said he took nearly one hundred dozen; so many that he could not thread them on crow quills in the usual manner, but took off his round frock and made a sack of it to put them into, and his wife did the same with her petticoat. This must have happened when 40 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST there was a great flight. Their numbers now are so decreased that some shepherds do not set up any coops, as it does not pay for the trouble.”* Lower, in his Contributions to Literature, 1854, remarks (p. 153): ‘‘ The Wheatear is becoming much less numerous than heretofore, to the great loss of the shepherds. The T-shaped incisions or traps in the turf are still seen, however, at the proper season, and many a timid, inoffensive bird still subjects itself to capital punishment in the horse-hair noose insidiously concealed therein. 1 Fleet, Giimpses of our Ancestors in Sussex, p. 94. PAGHAM HARBOUR PAST AND PRESENT In the south-western corner of the long county of Sussex, and on the eastern side of the great pro- montory or headland known as Selsea Bill, there ex- isted until 1887 one of the most attractive harbours for wildfowl to be found in the south of England. Formed originally by an incursion of the sea at the weakest portion of the long shingle beach which for ages kept back the water from the low-lying inland marshes, it furnished, in its wide waste of 3000 acres, the most important requisites of food, shelter, and comparative quiet, which are so essential to the presence of wildfowl. Localities which do not offer these attractions never hold birds long. They come, it is true, with wonderful regularity at the usual periods of their migration ; but, after a few days’ rest, they again journey onwards in search of those conditions which are so essential to their comfort. With no railway stations nearer than Bognor or Chichester—both of them some five miles distant—Pagham Harbour lay sufficiently off the beaten track to be out of the way of ordinary tourists, and, strange to say, was known to few beyond the professional gunners and fishermen dwelling about Bognor, Pagham, Siddlesham, and Selsea. Nor were these by any means a numerous 4l 42 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST class, for the surrounding district was too sparsely populated to furnish many punts or guns even in the height of the wildfowl season, the result being that the birds were never unduly disturbed, or if for the time being they were much shot at, the survivors, THE CURLEW. with fresh accessions to their ranks, were sure to come back with the turn of the tide. One great advantage which this fine harbour possessed was that it was too shallow to be navigable except by small craft, fishing boats, and punts, which were never numerous. At ebb tide an enormous extent of mud flats was laid bare, intersected by creeks and PAGHAM HARBOUR 43 channels of no great depth, and for the most part only just wide enough to work a gunning punt in. On these “muds,” as they were locally termed, in spring and autumn, when the tide was out, flocks of Gulls and Sandpipers might be seen scattered about in all directions, gleaning hastily the harvest of the sea. Ringed Plovers (locally called «‘ Wide- awakes”) and Dunling (or ‘“Oxbird”) were as common as Sparrows in a farmyard. The musical notes of the Redshank and the weird cry of the Curlew might be heard all day long at intervals, sounding wild and melancholy over the dreary waste of mud and water, and agreeably relieving the otherwise monotonous silence which prevailed. Although most numerous in spring and autumn, when they received great accessions to their ranks from the migrating flocks which continually joined them, these birds might be seen there all the year round, as might also, in smaller numbers, the Knot (Tringa canutus), locally known as the ‘ Little Plover,” the Bar-tailed Godwit or ‘‘Strant,” the Turnstone or ‘“ Shell-turner,” and the Oyster- catcher or “Olive.” Other species appeared for a few week only in spring and autumn. In May the Whimbrel (Mumenzus pheopus), known in Sussex as the “ Titterel” from its cry, and in Norfolk as the Maybird, from the regularity of its appearance in that month, was for a brief period quite numerous. About the same time of year came the Knot, the Curlew Sandpiper (Z7inga subarquata), and the Bar-tailed Godwits, with their speckled backs and bright bay breasts, which characterise the plumage 44 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST of the breeding season. The longer legged Black- tailed Godwit or “ Broad-tailed Strant”” was a much scarcer bird, and never came in such large parties as he of the barred tail. This seemed strange, for the black-tailed bird is the one which used to breed in the English fens, and still nests in the marshes of Holland—from which circumstance it might be THE DUNLING. expected to visit us more frequently and in larger numbers than is found to be the case, the Bar- tailed Godwit having to reach and return from its breeding haunts, which lie beyond lat. 60° N. in Finland, Northern Russia, and Siberia. All these birds were more numerous in the autumn, when the bulk of the flocks consisted of young birds, dis- tinguishable by their shorter and weaker bills, and by their buff-coloured breasts. PAGHAM HARBOUR 45 With the Godwits and Knots in May came also a few Grey Plovers, never in large flocks, but in small parties of ten or a dozen. At this time of year they were exceedingly handsome ; their breasts jet black, their backs looking as if flakes of snow had fallen upon them as they slept at night, their dark heads being similarly whitened here and there THE SANDERLING. in patches. On the wing they were at once dis- tinguishable, not only by their chequered appear- ance (the black breast and axillary plumes contrast- ing finely with the snow-white under surface of the wing), but also by their loud and plaintive dissyllabic call, uttered at intervals as they flew. In the main channel, as it was called, which wound tortuously from the harbour’s mouth to its north-east corner, where lay the little village of Siddlesham, large black posts were set at intervals 46 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST to mark the deep water, and prevent such vessels as essayed to reach Siddlesham from getting stranded on the mud. These great square-headed posts formed most convenient resting-places for Cormor- ants, Terns, and perhaps, on rare occasions, an Osprey. It was a pretty sight to watch a Cormorant fishing as the tide went out, when, after getting his fill, he would mount on one of these posts, and there sit for half an hour or more with expanded wings, hung out to dry in the breeze. Sometimes three or four Terns, or Sea-swallows, would contend for possession of the same post, and, after jostling each other for some time with noisy cries, would fly off to the next post, where perhaps the same manceuvres would be repeated. During the months of August and September, when the young Gulls and Terns were well on the wing, there would sometimes be hundreds of these birds in the harbour. The professional gunners used to shoot them when they got a chance, in order to dispose of them in Chichester either to the poulterer or birdstuffer, and they found their way eventually either to the p/umasstev, or to some public or private collection cf British birds. All the commoner species of Gulls were usually represented, except perhaps the so-called Common Gull (Larus canus), which was by no means numerous. But Kittiwakes (especially young birds in autumn), Black-headed Gulls, Greater and Lesser Black- backs, and Herring Gulls, in all stages of plumage, were plentiful enough. Occasionally an immature ‘AUOMSV SINAd 48 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST Little Gull would be brought in by a gunner, and in hard weather a great Glaucous Gull would come into the harbour, accompanied perhaps by a few Skuas and Petrels. But these never stayed long, and, if not shot at and killed, drifted away like rest- less spirits over the beach and away seaward. Now and again some solitary belated Guillemot or Razor- bill would put in an appearance, and might be observed diving in one of the channels as the tide ran out, but these ‘‘cliff-birds” did not often come far up the harbour; they were more often to be seen on the seaward side of the shingle beach, and generally some little way out from shore. I seldom paid much regard to these birds, except just to note their species and watch them fishing when a good opportunity occurred. It was to the Plovers, Cur- lews, Redshanks, Godwits, Knots, e¢ zd genus omune, that I paid most attention in autumn, and to Ducks and Black Geese in the winter months I devoted many a long and often successful day. The extensive marshes lying to the westward of Pagham Harbour, between Siddlesham and Selsea, are intersected, as such marshes usually are, by broad dykes to help the drainage, and keep in the cattle which grazed there. Times have changed, but thirty years ago these marshes were seldom visited by any but those who looked after the stock. The birds which resorted there were consequently very little disturbed, and it was possible to make a very nice little ‘‘mixed bag” if one happened to hit off the proper season. Duck and Mallard, and Teal were often in the PAGHAM HARBOUR 49 dykes, with an occasional Goldeneye—generally single birds, females, or young males— Little Grebes, and now and then in winter the Sclavonian and Eared Grebes, almost always solitary. Snipes of course were scattered about, and had to be looked for; Green Sandpipers and Grey Phalaropes I repeatedly saw and shot. At high tide Golden THE TURNSTONE, Plovers and Peewits rested in the marshes; at low water they betook themselves to the harbour to feed upon the recently exposed ooze, and it was remark- able how well they appeared to know when the tide had turned. As soon as the highest mud-banks began to show above the receding water, they rose in a body from the marsh, and were off to feed upon the ooze. The Peewits were generally too artful, and flew in too straggling a flock, to afford much D 50 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST chance to the gun, but the Golden Plovers came sweeping along in a more compact body, and, by lying in wait for them behind the harbour wall, in a direct line between their position in the marshes and the highest mud-flats, I often managed to get two barrels in very effectively as they crossed, dropping perhaps seven or eight of them, and, on one well-remembered occasion, ‘‘a baker’s dozen.” They were generally in capital condition, and made a welcome addition to the very limited “ bill of fare” which such an out-of-the-way place afforded. The little village of Siddlesham was, and still is, a very primitive place indeed. A fewsmall straggling houses, fewer shops—including those of a butcher, baker, and general grocer—a mill, and an inn rejoicing in the sign of the “Crab and Lobster” ; not an inappropriate sign either ; for “ lobster pots” were in general use there, and supplied us with many an excellent supper. A ‘Chichester lobster” is proverbial as one of the four good things of Sussex, another being a “ Selsea cockle.” Pagham Harbour, lying as it were between Chichester and Selsea, could boast both of lobsters and cockles not inferior in flavour to those of greater celebrity for size. At low water the fishermen might be seen walk- ing across the soft mud of the harbour to look at their lobster pots, and carrying baskets for cockles, which they gathered as they went. I sometimes accompanied them on their way, and was always much struck at the skill with which they discovered and unearthed a cockle from below the surface “A0IN IS DHL 52 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST of the sandy soil in which they lurked. To an unpractised eye it seemed nothing short of mar- vellous, when walking across a tract of ooze which looked “‘as bare as a billiard table,” to see my com- panion suddenly stop, stoop down, plunge his fore- finger into the sand, and scoop out a cockle, which till then had been to me invisible. His quick eye had detected the tiny worm-like hole which indicated the presence of the mollusk, and long practice enabled him to distinguish the contracted tunnel through which the cockle had passed from any other hole, or the boring of a Sandpiper. But to return to the inn, with its lattice windows and sanded floors; the lodging was rough, but it was clean; and after a tramp of ten miles in the marshes after Snipe and Duck, or a hard day’s work in the punt after Plover or Black Geese, it would be strange if a man could not sleep well, even though his room might lack a carpet. Those who have read the works of the late Mr A. E. Knox—and who that is fond of sport and natural history has not ?—will recollect the many passages in which allusion is made to Pagham Harbour, either as the scene of a good day’s wild- fowl shooting, or of some interesting ornithological observation. Residing, as he did, for some time in a cottage between Bognor and Pagham, this once famous harbour was his ‘‘ happy hunting ground.” It was upon the long shingle beach that ran across the harbour’s mouth that he used to lie and watch the wildfowl coming in from the sea to rest and feed after their long journeys from the north. PAGHAM HARBOUR 53 It was here that on a memorable occasion he turned to such good account the manceuvres of a punt gunner, whose sudden appearance in proximity to a large flock of wildfowl in the harbour at first filled him with consternation, but who eventually enabled him to make a most satisfactory right and left at a Brent Goose and a Wild Swan as they came flying THE GREY PHALAROPE. towards him after the discharge of the big punt gun had put them up (Game Birds and Wildfow/, pp. 61- 71,and Ornithological Rambles, pp. 8,9). It wason this part of the Sussex coast also that he made those interesting observations on the migratory habits of the Pied Wagtail (Oruzthological Rambles, p. 81) and other small birds, which threw a new light on the subject of bird migration, and which have been since approvingly quoted in Yarrell’s standard work 54 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST on British birds (4th ed. vol. i., pp. 544, 545). “The movements of the Pied Wagtail,” says Professor Newton (of. czt.), “‘ have been noticed by many writers, but by none more carefully than Mr Knox, who, having lived for some years on the coast of Sussex, was singularly well placed for the observation of migratory birds in general, and paid much attention to them. A great deal of what he has so happily recorded with respect to the Pied Wagtail applies equally to many others, so that his remarks deserve more than ordinary consideration, serving as they do to throw light on the whole of that mysterious subject, and being those of an unusually watchful and accurate ornithologist.” As might be expected from the nature of the place, the birds which resorted there were chiefly waders and wildfowl, and at all seasons some of the commoner species of Gulls. In spring and autumn the waders were decidedly in the majority, in winter the Ducks, Geese, and occasionally Swans were the most conspicuous objects upon this wild waste of mud and water. Forty years (Zheu fugaces/) have elapsed since the writer first visited Pagham Harbour, and discovered what an exceilent spot it was for studying the habits, notes, flight, food, changes of plumage, and other peculiarities of the birds which resorted there; and between the years 1863 and 1887 there was no better ‘‘shore-shooting ” to be had anywhere in the south of England than might there be enjoyed at the proper season. It was in 1862 that I made the acquaintance of the late Mr A. E. Knox, and listening to his animated PAGHAM HARBOUR 55 description of Pagham and its surroundings, became fired with his enthusiasm while profiting by his experience. Even at this distance of time I recall, as if it were only yesterday, the many enjoyable weeks spent at intervals in that lonely harbour, in the midst of the most varied bird life which could gladden the eyes of an ornithologist. Many a wily THE WIGEON. Curlew was then stalked and brought to bag; many a Plover and Redshank were decoyed within gunshot by an imitation of their notes; many a Duck and Snipe were flushed and killed out of the marsh drains. There seemed at that time no more enjoyable kind of shooting than that which was afforded by a tramp round the harbour, or a cruise just before high tide in a gunning punt. 56 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST To give an idea of the variety of birds that might be procured with an ordinary 12-bore shoulder gun, here is a list of birds killed one day at the end of August 1867: 1 Sheldrake, 2 Teal, 2 Curlew, 1 Grey Plover, 21 Ringed Plover, 11 Knots, 4 Turnstones, 3 Greenshanks, 6 Redshanks, 1 Ruff, 2 Common Sandpipers,2Curlew Sandpipers, 24 Dunlins, 1 Little Stint, 1 Black Tern, 1 Black-headed Gull, 3 Herring Gulls, and 1 Lesser Black-backed Gull. On another day in September of the same year, the bag was: 6 Grey Plovers, 1 Curlew, 1 Whimbrel, 1 Bar- tailed Godwit, 4 Oystercatchers, 2 Redshanks, 3 Lap- wings, 13 Knots, to Ringed Plovers, 1 Turnstone, 1 Common Sandpiper, 1 Curlew Sandpiper, 34 Dunlins, 4 Little Stints, 4 Grey Phalaropes, 1 Arctic Tern, 1 Black-headed Gull, and 1 Herring Gull. None of these birds were really wasted. Some of the best of each species were generally skinned and pre- served, either for the shooter’s own collection, or that of some friend ; a great many were eaten (and there are few better items in a sportsman’s menu than a dish of roast Plovers or a properly made Knot pie). While such uneatable birds as Gulls, Terns, Scaup Ducks, Scoters, or what not, if not required for the collection, were given away to the fishermen, who either cut them up as bait for the lobster pots, or sold them to the nearest dealer in Chichester for what they would fetch. Many arare bird has made Pagham Harbour its temporary resting-place—sometimes to pass on unharmed, and possibly to return another season but oftener to fall a victim to some keen shooter ‘“UHLTIHS SUPTMOT FHL 58 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST whose practised eye detects the presence of an unusual visitor amongst the flocks of common species which he is daily accustomed to see. Whether the rarities thus procured are always brought to the notice of naturalists is more than doubtful. Some of them occasionally get recorded by the shooters, or, coming to the hands of local collectors, eventually become immortalised in a county list. This was the case with the birds in Mr Knox’s collection (now at Goodwood), many of which: were procured at Pagham Harbour and in the neighbourhood, and may be found noticed in the “Systematic Catalogue of the Birds of Sussex,” appended to that author’s Oruzthological Rambles. Amongst the rarer birds of prey met with at Pagham Harbour, and occasionally shot there, may be mentioned the Osprey, Kite, and Montagu’s Harrier. The last named (of which the writer has seen several) frequented the marshes on either side of the harbour, and were always observed in autumn, when the individuals met with were almost invariably birds of the year. Amongst the smaller passerine birds, the Waxwing and Red-winged Starling have been procured in this district; the Bearded Tit not far off, at Fishbourne, while the Rock Pipit was found breeding near Aldwick and Pagham, and the Cirl Bunting near Bognor. Amongst the uncommon birds which have been observed and procured at Pagham Harbour may be noticed the Dotterel (Zudromias morincllus), locally known as the ‘‘ Land Dotterel” to distinguish PAGHAM HARBOUR 59 it from the ‘‘ Ringed Dotterel,” one of the commonest of shore birds. The former was very rarely met with, and then only in small ‘“‘trips” in the marshes during the autumnal migration. The writer never fell in with it there but once. This was in the month of September, when five or six of them coming up unexpectedly from behind, dashed by so THE BRENT GOOSE, rapidly that a random shot only stopped a single bird, which proved on examination to be a bird of the year. Amongst the rarer shore birds procured at different times in the harbour, or in the neigh- bouring marshes may be mentioned the Avocet, Black-winged Stilt, Kentish Plover, Dusky Red- shank, Grey Phalarope, Spoonbill, and Crane, Besides the ordinary wildfowl, such as Duck 60 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST and Mallard, Teal, Wigeon, Tufted Duck, and Goldeneye, there came to this favoured spot in winter Pintail, Scaup Duck, Smew, Merganser, and Goosander, regularly, immature Long-tailed Duck very rarely, and now and then a common Scoter strayed in from the sea. All the Grebes were represented at different times, though nearly always in winter plumage. Grey Geese were never at any time common in Pagham Harbour, even in very severe winters, the commonest Wild Goose there being undoubtedly the Brent. Mr Knox, however, once shot a couple of Grey-lag Geese in the harbour, and both the Bean Goose and the Bernicle have also been occasionally killed there. Brent Geese, on the other hand, were sometimes so numerous in the harbour at night, that fourteen were once killed at a double shot with a shoulder gun, by wading down a channel at low water and shooting into their dark, almost indistinguish- able ranks as they paddled about in the dusk “in close order.” In January and February the writer seldom had much difficulty in bagging a few of these birds, either by working a punt up to them, or, if they were wild, by lying concealed behind the sea-wall, and getting a fisherman to go round them in a punt and move them slowly towards the ambush. They never would come very near the shore, although by a little generalship they could sometimes be made to fly across a corner of the harbour within gun shot of the bank in their attempt to wheel before retreating to a safe distance in the middle of the harbour, on which PAGHAM HARBOUR 61 lucky occasions they usually left two of their number dead in their wake to be picked up by the man in the punt. But these good old times are gone for ever. There is no shooting of any kind to be had there THE FOWLER’S DOG. now; for the harbour no longer exists, and the migrating flocks which wing their way in that direction now pass on to the westward in search of some other haven. A few years ago a company was formed for the purpose of draining and re- claiming this famous resort of wildfowl. After 62 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST many vain attempts to keep out the sea by working day and night, Sundays and weekdays, with re- lays of men, the mouth of the harbour was at length closed, and, the tide being forcibly kept out, the harbour, partly by pumping and draining, partly by evaporation, became gradually dry. A great portion of it is now under cultivation, and when the writer last visited this once ‘happy hunting ground,” he found many acres of roots where he had often worked his punt, and put up a hare on the former feeding grounds of the Wigeon and Brent Goose. For the purposes of sport, therefore—and it may be said for the purposes also of ornithological observation—this fine harbour is now utterly and irretrievably spoilt, affording another illustration of the way in which the fauna and flora of a district may, by man’s interference and in the course of a lifetime become wholly changed in its character, and species become exterminated or driven away by altering the conditions of life under which alone their existence was possible. DEER-LEAPS In a few scattered parks in England may still be seen remains of what are termed ‘‘deer-leaps ’—an ancient contrivance for taking deer, the origin of which dates back probably to the time of Canute the Dane, who, in the first year of his reign (a.D. 1018) did (as Manwood tells us in his 77eatise of Forest Laws) “appoint such forests and chases as then were, their limits and bounds certain, and to the intent to have his own forests and other privileged places the better preserved from offenders in them.” At a council held at Win- chester in that year, he passed his now celebrated code of forest laws, which, afterwards confirmed by divers kings, regulated the ownership, preserva- tion, and management of vert and venison through- out the land.*. These laws were administered by a ‘‘swainmote,” or court composed of officers called verderers, foresters, and agisters, who, amongst other business, adjudicated upon all cases in which deer were killed without warrant. One of the articles of inquiry in the court of swainmote was: ‘Whether any man have any 1 The authenticity of this Code has been much questioned, but the arguments fro and con are too lengthy to be here discussed. 63 64 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST great close within three miles of the forest that have: any saltories [sadtatorium], or great gaps, called deer-lopes, to receive deer into them when they be in chasing, and when they are in them they cannot get out again.” This is, perhaps, the earliest explanation which can now be found of the meaning of the term ‘“deer-leap,” although, as will presently be shown, this definition admits of modification, for the contrivance in question was not, as here implied, a mere pitfall into which deer were driven, or might accidentally fall, and be confined until killed by the owner, who exercised the right of thus capturing them. Whether the Saxon ‘‘der-fald” (deerfold) may be regarded as synonymous with ‘“‘deer-leap,” is not certain. Prof. Earle, in his edition of the Saxon Chronicles, considers it identical with the faza. He says: * The hunt began by sending men round to brush and beat the wood, and drive the game with horns and dogs into the ambuscade. This pen is the Zaza so frequently occurring among the sz/v@ in Domes- day. The ‘der-fa/d’ of our text seems to be the same.” * It is remarkable that this very word ‘“ Deerfold,” or, as it is pronounced, ‘‘ Darfill,” still survives as the name of a rough, hilly tract of country in the 1The meaning of the word Aaza (Fr. haze) is discussed and explained in my L£ssays on Sport and Natural History, pp. 41, 42. It occurs as the name of a town in Brecon, and also in tne plural as the towns of Hayes in Middlesex and in Kent, and a piece of land in the parish of Shobdon, close to the site of a priory founded by Sir Oliver de Merlimond in the twelfth century. DEER-LEAPS 65 parishes of Amestrey, Lingen, and Wigmore, in Herefordshire, which was common land until some time early in the last century. Fosbroke in his “ Abstract of the MS. Lives of the Barons of Berkeley, by John Smith, Esq., M.P. for Midhurst,” tem. Jac. I. (p. 77), explains ‘“ deer- leaps” to be “private parks adjoining forests, allowed by royal license to have places where the deer might enter by leaping and be retained.” More accurately speaking, of course it was not the park “allowed to have such a place,” but the place itself, which in its formation varied in different localities according to the nature of the ground and the general surroundings. Sometimes it was merely a low place in the park paling over which the deer could easily jump, but having on the park side a ditch with a long slope towards the park, rendering return difficult. The ‘‘deer-leap” at Wolseley Park, bordering on Cannock Chase in Staffordshire, is of this description. An engraving of it is given in Shirley’s Euglsh Deer Parks, 1867 (p. 191). In other cases where no paling existed a deep fosse was dug along the boundary line, and a per- pendicular wall (some seven or eight feet perhaps in height) was built from the bottom of the fosse to the level of the ground on the forest side; while on the park side the ground was gradually sloped away from the bottom of the wall towards the park, the result being that a deer could leap down from the forest into the park, but could not so easily get back again. Of this description was the “ deer- E 66 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST leap” at Hursley Park, Hampshire, which is also figured by Mr Evelyn Shirley in the work last quoted (p. 85), and I have seen the remains of a similar one at Exton Park, Rutlandshire, the seat of the Earl of Gainsborough." The privilege, which was sparingly accorded, of making and maintaining a ‘‘deer-leap” on the borders of a forest or royal chase was always specially granted by deed or charter, and could not otherwise be claimed as of right by the owner of the park, who had license to inclose it. The records of special grants of this nature are not very numerous, and a few may here be cited as curiosities. In the county of Somerset, Robert de Were, a son of Robert Fitzharding (¢emp. Hen. II.), had ‘‘deer-leaps” on his manors of Barrow and English- combe. A patent roll of the eighth year of King John (a.p. 1The position of this ‘“deer-leap” is somewhat singular, inasmuch as it is not situated, as usual, on the present boundary of the park, but directly across a broad ride in Tunnelly Wood. An old keeper (Robert Williams, aged seventy-four), with whom I had some conversation on the subject, told me that he re- unembered the old people in his youth talking about this ‘“ deer- leap,” and that there was a tradition to the effect that it was used for shooting deer; that the shooter crouched in the fosse under the stone wall, and that the deer were driven by beaters directly up the ride, and so forced to take the leap. I cannot help think- ing that this was altogether a misapprehension of its object ; and judging from the growth of the timber, I should suppose that there has been an alteration of boundary, in consequence of the wood on this side now projecting further into the park than was formerly the case. I remarked also that the slope of the fosse from the base of the stone wall is towards the park, and not towards the forest. DEER-LEAPS 67 1206), grants a license to John Comyn, Archbishop of Dublin, to have a park at Kilcopsantan, and a ‘‘deer-leap” therein. In 1247 an agreement made between Robert de Quincy, Earl of Winchester, A TYPICAL FALLOW BUCK. and Roger de Somery, Baron Dudley, defined their respective rights of hunting in Charnwood Forest, and the adjoining park of Bradgate, in Leicester- shire. It is cited by Blount in his Axczent Tenures, and is regarded as one of the earliest and most 68 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST curious instances which can be adduced of a hunting agreement. I need only quote so much of the translation as relates to the “deer-leaps” between. the forest and the park :— ‘‘This is the agreement made at Leicester on the day of St Vincent the Martyr (January 22), in the thirty-first year of the reign of King Henry IIL, son of King John (Anno 1246), before Sir Roger de Thirkilby [and others], justices in eyre there, be- tween Roger de Quincy Earl of Winchester, and Roger de Somery. To wit: That the aforesaid Roger de Somery hath granted for him and his heirs that the aforesaid earl and his heirs may have and hold his Park of Bradgate so enclosed as it was on the octave of St Hilary (January 20) in the thirty-first year of the aforesaid King Henry with the ‘deer-leaps’ then made therein (cum saltatoriis tunc zn eo factis). And for thisagreement and grant, the same earl hath granted for him and his heirs that the same Roger de Somery and his heirs may enter at any hour on the forest of him the said earl to hunt in it with nine bows and six hounds, according to the form of an Indenture before made between the aforesaid Roger Earl of Winton and Hugh d’Albany Earl of Arundel in the King’s court at Leicester. And if any wild beast wounded by any of the aforesaid bows shall enter the said park dy any ‘deer-leap’ or elsewhere, it shall be lawful for the aforesaid Roger de Somery and his heirs to send one or two of his men who may follow the aforesaid beast with the dogs pursuing it within the aforesaid park, without bows or arrows, and may DEER-LEAPS 69 take it on the day whereon it was wounded, without injury to any other beasts in the said park: pro- vided that if they be footmen they shall enter by some ‘deer-leap’ or ‘haie’; and if they be horse- men they shall enter by the gate if it be open; or otherwise shal] not enter before they wind their horn for the keeper if he will come.” The park of Harringworth, Northamptonshire, within the forest of Rockingham, the principal seat of the Zouches, is recognised in the third year of Edward III. (1329), when a license was granted to William La Zouche to make a ‘‘deer-leap”’ within the manor. Lastly may be mentioned Wolseley Park, Staffordshire, adjoining Cannock Chase, which was originally inclosed about 1470 by license granted to Ralph Wolseley, a Baron of the Exchequer in Edward IV.’s reign. Mr Evelyn Shirley, who in his English Deer Parks has given an engraving of the ‘‘deer leap” at Wolseley, as above- mentioned, refers to it as an existing park, with the right of deer-leap from the Chase, and regards it as a unique case of a chartered ‘‘deer-leap” still exercising its privileges. Chafin, in his Anecdotes of Cranbourn Chase (p. 16), quotes an instance of a man forfeiting an estate adjoining the Chase through his making and using an unauthorised “deer-leap.” He is stated to have converted some of the pales on the Chase side into a sort of pitfall, so that the deer could easily leap in, but could not get back again; and to induce them to be thus entrapped they were 70 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST enticed by apple pomace, of which the deer are particularly fond, and which they can scent from a long distance. The keepers of the Chase having reported this to the lord of the manor, litigation ensued, when an investigation of title-deeds showed that the owner of the illegal ‘‘deer-leap” was wrongly seised of the estate he held, his pre- decessor having had only a grant for life—a dis- covery which probably would never have been made had it not been for his assuming the right to make a “ deer-leap.” As the narrator of this incident in 1818 was acquainted with the parties, and cognisant of all the proceedings, we may regard it as one of the latest instances on record of the actual use of a “deer-leap.” Mr Evelyn Shirley, writing in 1867, refers to the “deer-leap” at Wolseley as ‘‘still exercising its privileges,” from which we are to infer that at that date deer (presumably fallow deer) came in at least occasionably from Cannock Chase. I have been unable, however, to find any con- firmatory evidence of the existence of deer in that Chase at so recent a date. In Garner’s Natural Flistory of the County of Stafford, published in 1844, no mention is made of their existence there, although the author of that work speaks of the former existence of the red deer ‘together with thousands of fallow deer,” in the same county, in the forest of Needwood, until its enclosure at the commencement of the last century. As Wolseley Park was separated from Needwood on the north side by the Trent, there can be little DEER-LEAPS 71 doubt that any deer entering by the “deer-leap” came in from Cannock Chase, lying to the south of it. The red deer, we may presume, have long been extinct there, or they would have been noticed by Garner; but it would be interesting to know whether any wild fallow deer still roam the Chase as they do in Epping Forest. Thus far, it will be seen, I have adverted to the use of the term ‘“‘deer-leap” only in what I con- ceive to be its original sense. In some parts of the country it has a different signification, and is employed to denote a certain space on the boundary of an ancient forest, intervening between the forest and the land adjoining. The exact width of this strip, or leap, is variously estimated in different parts of the country. In a communication, signed ‘‘Eboracum,” in Zhe /ve/d of December 8, 1883, the writer says: ‘‘It bears different names in different localities, as ‘bow rake’ and ‘pale dyke,’ and is supposed to be nine yards, or as far as a deer can leap or an arrow be shot—hence ‘bow rake.’” There must be some mistake however in this in- terpretation of the term ‘‘bow rake,” for to shoot an arrow only nine yards would be mere child’s play. It is more probable that “bow rake” is equivalent to a bow’s length. The forester of old, habitually carrying his bow, would always have a convenient measure at hand, and, instead of step- ping out yards as we do now, he would lay down his bow, scratching or ‘‘raking” the soil (A.S. vacian) with the horn tip of the bow at the end of 72 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST each measured length. His measure then would be so many ‘“ bow rakes.” But to return to our “deer-leap.” A con- tributor to Motes and Queries (2nd ser. ili., p. 137), writing in 1857, says :— «Some few years ago I attended the perambula- tion of a manor in Devonshire. In the course of our proceedings we came to one side of the manor, the boundary of which from time immemorial was a ‘deer’s leap’ from the visible and actual boundary (a bank and wall) which separated the manor we were perambulating from another, ze., the rights of the adjoining manor extended a ‘deer’s leap’ into the one we were perambulating. ‘““There were many conflicting opinions as to the distance of a ‘deer’s leap,’ but it was eventually decided to dig a spit of turf, as is the usual custom on such occasions, 24 feet from the bank and wall.” He adds: ‘“‘I have it from a friend well versed in business of this nature that the distance of a deer’s leap is in some districts 24 feet, in others £2 feet.” Another writer in the same volume of that use- ful periodical (iii., p. 195), says :— “The term ‘deer-leap’ or ‘buck-leap’ was generally applied to a narrow strip of land adjoin- ing to and running round the outside of the paling or fence of an ancient park. The breadth of this strip was the distance which it was supposed a deer could leap at one bound; hence its name.” He adds: ‘‘ The remains of what was said to be part of the ‘ buck-leap’ at Shirley Park, Derbyshire, DEER-LEAPS 73 existed within my memory along the side of one field.” A description then follows, which shows it to have resembled the “deer-leap” at Hursley Park, Hants, already noticed. There is yet another sense in which the term ‘“‘deer-leap” has been used, namely, to designate the spot where, on some particular occasion, an extraordinary leap was made by a deer. In this sense the word is used by Gilpin in his forest Scenery, who, at p. 223 of his second volume (Lauder’s edition), tells us :— ‘In our way to Hound’s Down, we rode past a celebrated spot called the ‘Deer-leap.’ Here a stag was once shot, which, in the agony of death, collecting his force, gave a bound which astonished those who saw it. It was immediately com- memorated by two posts, which were fixed at the two extremities of the leap, where they still remain. The space between them is somewhat more than eighteen yards!” But here surely there must be either a /apsus calamt or a lapsus memoria. ANTLERS So much attention is nowadays paid to the study of natural history, that there must be few people who do not know, even if they do not quite under- stand the process, that deer annually shed their horns, and in this respect differ remarkably from antelopes and other hollow -corned ruminants, whose horns are persistent. A general statement to this effect may be found in most books dealing with the natural history of the mammalia; but few authors afford much information on the subject, or describe with much clearness what takes place. Even in so authoritative a work as Bell’s Bretish Quadrupeds, some curious mistakes on this point are made. It is stated, for instance, under the head of “ Red Deer” (p. 349), that ‘‘the annual shedding takes place shortly after the pairing season”; and, on the next page, that ‘about February the old stags drop their antlers.” But this is not quite correct. The rutting season is in September and October ; the antlers are not shed, as a rule, until April or even May, the oldest stags being the first to lose them. The exact time, in fact, depends upon the age of the stag and the temperature of the winter and early spring. Should the winter be cold and spring protracted, 74 ANTLERS ri the stags shed their horns as late as May ; the old ones at the beginning, the young ones at the end of that month. It is very rarely, however, that AN EXMOOR STAG. an old stag will carry his old antlers after the beginning of May; but a two-year-old deer will do so for a month or two later. Both horns are not always shed at the same time; one of them, perhaps, will be retained for a day or two after the other. 76 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST In a few days after the old horns have dropped, the new growth shows itself, and gradually the new antlers are developed. They are then covered with a thick “velvet,” which preserves the point, as yet soft and tender, from injury. While in this soft condition they are very sensitive, and, to avoid injury by striking them against trees, the deer leads a life of retirement. In about twelve weeks they are full-grown, and, as they gradually harden, the animal rubs them against a tree to get rid of the ‘‘velvet.” This can only be done gradually, and a stag may often be seen at that time of year with the “velvet” hanging in strips, being only partially detached from the horns. The weight of the antlers in a full-grown stag varies, according to their size and massiveness, from ten or twelve to fifteen pounds. In the Zoologischer Garten for February 1866 will be found an interesting article by Dr Soemmer- ing on the growth of deer horns, a translation of which, together with an illustration, appeared in The Freld of July 21, 1886. It contains a careful description of the progressive growth of the new horn, with figures showing the altered appearance presented at intervals of a few days between the middle of March and the end of May. Antlers differ but little in their composition from true bone, and chiefly in the proportion of their constituents. Ordinary bone consists of about one-third part of animal matter or gelatine, and two-thirds of earthy matter, about six-sevenths of which is phosphate of lime ANTLERS 77 and one-seventh carbonate of lime with an appreciable trace of magnesia. The animal matter gives the bone elasticity and tenacity, the earthy matter hardness and rigidity. ee A “ROYAL” FROM INVERNESS-SHIRE. Deer horn consists of about thirty-nine parts of animal matter and sixty-one parts of earthy matter of the same kind and proportions as is found in ordinary bone. This is the mean of many results of analysis of antlers of different species of deer by different processes, amongst which are very slight 78 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST differences in results. This excess of animal matter seems necessary to give the antlers elasticity and strength, and adapt them to the purpose for which they are designed. What becomes of the old horns is a question which is often asked, the inquirers usually averring, and with some truth, that they are seldom or never to be seen lying about. The explanation of this is really not far to seek. In the first place, it must often happen that the horns are dropped in out-of- the-way places, amongst underwood, or in heather, where they are lost to sight, and seldom discovered unless by a systematic search for them, or by accident. In the next place, park-keepers and foresters keep a pretty sharp look-out for them in the course of their daily rounds, knowing well their value to the cutlers for knife handles, and to the saddlers for whip handles. And in the third place, the deer themselves help to get rid of them by eating them. The question is asked from time to time whether this can be true, and whether it is possible that deer can gnaw at all in the proper sense of the word, having no incisor teeth in the upper jaw, but only a hard callous pad, against which the lower incisors can only cut off grass and leaves in the same way that cows do with similar dentition. But they have powerful molars, or grinding teeth, quite strong enough to bite and break off boughs with, and to gnaw or crunch up bones; and there can be no doubt that they use them for that purpose. Scrope, in his Days of Deer-stalking, states ANTLERS 79 that hinds have been seen to eat the shed horns. One, he says, will consume a part, and when she drops it, it will be taken up and gnawed by the others. He adds that “the late Duke of Athol once found a dead hind which had been choked by a part of the horn that remained sticking in her throat.” The author of that entertaining and now scarce book, Zhe Chase of the Wild Red Deer, the late Mr C. P. Collyns, was assured by keepers and hillmen of great experience and undoubted veracity in Scotland, that it is acommon occurrence for hinds to eat the cast horns, though he was never able to confirm it from his own experience in Devonshire and Somersetshire. In Zhe Field of January 23, 1858, ‘‘A Highlander” wrote, saying: ‘“As to what becomes of the horns annually shed by deer, I can answer, from actual observation, that very many of them are eaten, or at least munched up by other deer. A deer, either stag or hind, I have seldom seen passing a fallen horn without gnawing it; and very rarely indeed have I seen a shed horn that was not partially gnawed. It is said that the stags conceal their horns, when shed in soft places. I have never seen them do so; but the finest specimens of shed horns I have ever found were during the summer's drought, where the waters of some bog had nearly disappeared. I[ never found an entire horn except in water or moss.” Lord Lovat, who has referred to the subject in his chapter on “ Deer-stalking” con- tributed to the volume on Moor and Marsh Shooting in the ‘Badminton Library,” says: 80 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST ‘Unless picked up very soon, these shed horns are rarely found whole. Both hinds and stags are very fond of eating them, as they are of any bones they may find.” At a meeting of the Zoological Society in December 1883, Sir Joseph Fayrer exhibited some deer horns which he had picked up at Dunrobin, and which had in great part been eaten away,as he thought probable, by deer,'although (as he remarked) “it was difficult to conceive how a deer, with its toothless upper jaw” (he meant zz front only) “could eat a hard bone; for such is a shed horn.” His surmises, however, were doubtless correct, and were confirmed by the subsequent receipt of several more horns that had been partially gnawed by deer in the same forest, and were sent up by Mr James Inglis, the head keeper at Dunrobin. In a letter which accompanied these specimens, Mr Inglis wrote :— “T asked the stalkers to keep a look-out, and see if they could find any deer eating horns, and am glad to say that they have been able to put the matter beyond all doubt. Donald M‘Rae saw with his glass a stag in Dunrobin Glen eating a horn. He went to the place where he saw him eating it, and found it partially eaten. I send it with the others. You will find a ticket on it to distinguish it from the rest. Duncan M‘Pherson saw with his glass a hind last week (December 1883) eating a horn also; he did not find the horn, but he saw the ‘One of these horns was subsequently figured in Matuz, December 20, 1883. ANTLERS 31 hind quite plainly with it in her mouth, gnawing away at it near the point. He added that a shepherd, in the parish of Lairg, had a cow that ate all the bones she could find, going miles for them, and eating up shank bones and all; the ribs being eaten easily, and seeming to give no trouble whatever.” Not only is it a fact, then, that deer eat the old horns that are shed every year, but they will also gnaw at them when they have a chance Jefore they are shed. The late Sir Thomas Moncrieffe in- formed Dr Buchanan White, of Perth, that he once watched a hind gnawing the tines of the horns on a stag that was lying beside her, and which he afterwards shot. Mr Overton, the head keeper at Bradgate Park, near Leicester, where both red and fallow deer are kept, states that he has not the least doubt of their eating each other’s horns. He has himself noticed several cases in which both the broad antlers and top points had been gnawed off, and had also seen Scotch heads that had been quite spoiled by the tines having been gnawed, which he thought must have been done after the horn had become hard and whilst the owner of it was still living. Fallow deer, as well as red deer, have the same propensity and liking apparently for the saline flavour of the cast horn. I have several times picked up fragments of antlers thus gnawed in parks where only fallow deer are kept. Doubtless the habit is common to all deer. The character of heads, as every deer-stalker Fr 82 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST knows, varies in different forests; there are usually most points where there is most wood, or good winter feeding and shelter. It is the opinion of Lord Lovat, as stated inthe volume above referred to, that in hill deer heads go on improving up to the age of twelve or fifteen years; on low ground, with more forcing food, they come to maturity sooner. The heads then remain about the same for some years, after which they gradually lose beam, get smoother from the blood vessels being no longer so vigorous, the points taper more, and are shorter, till finally the head dwindles to half its former size. The late Duke of Athole collected and preserved the shed horns of certain park stags that were known, and whose horns could be found and identified as soon as dropped, and he noticed that at the age of twelve or thirteen they began to deteriorate. Some years ago Mr J. Clarke, of Lynton, being anxious to settle certain points in connection with the growth of deer horns, upon which a difference of opinion prevailed, conceived the idea of keeping a red stag in a paddock under his own immediate supervision, and making regular observations upon it, till it reached the condition of a fully-grown adult animal. This he carried out, published the result of his observations in Zhe ze/d of November 11, 1865, and subsequently in a small pamphlet printed at Barnstaple in 1866, but which has long been out of print and unprocurable. It has been reprinted, however, in Zhe Zoologist for September 1884, and ANTLERS 83 is well worth reading by those whoare interested in the matter, as are also the criticisms thereon (printed in the succeeding number for October) by Lord Ebrington, whose experience as master of the Devon and Somerset Staghounds enabled him to write authoritatively on the subject. The question is sometimes asked whether it is possible to tell the age of a stag by his horns. The late Rev. J. Boyce, one of the oldest stag- hunters in the county of Devon, on being asked this question, replied, ‘‘ No,” and that the only way in which the different ages could be possibly ascer- tained was to keep observation on one and the same animal for several years in confinement, as in the experiment made by Mr Clarke, of Lynton. Since then the subject has been more fully investigated and elucidated, and in the Natural History Museum may now be seen a series of cast horns from the same animal, showing the appear- ance they present at different ages. A WET DAY ON THE HILL Mucu of the enjoyment to be derived from deer- stalking in Scotland is, no doubt, due to the beautiful wild scenery amongst which the sport is pursued. The heather-clad hills, the steep corries, the great grey boulders relieved here and there with patches of bracken, the peaty burn meander- ing down the hillside amidst stones and slabs, and mosses of lovely texture and varied hues, all combine to form a landscape suz generis, such as can be found nowhere but in bonnie Scotland. If to these surroundings we add the placid surface of a loch lying far below us as we look down from a heathery knoll, or a broad blue arm of the sea running in between rocky islets round which the wings of seafowl gleam white in the distance, we complete a picture of which the eye can never weary, and which inspires a feeling of restful enjoyment as delightful to experience as it is difficult to describe. But much will naturally depend on the weather. Given a clear day, with not too strong a light, and a moderate wind, all may go well; but should a mist descend from the hill, or alight drizzling rain continue to fall steadily, not only will the chances of sport be considerably reduced, but the enjoyment of the day may be 84 A WET DAY ON THE HILL 85 entirely spoilt. Amidst such wild surroundings, however, it need not be supposed that enjoyment arises solely from success in compassing the death ofa deer. There is a pleasure in contemplating, even at a respectful distance, the free, unfettered movements of a wild stag, or the picturesque attitudes of a lot of hinds while still unsuspicious of danger. If as you approach them a solitary Blackcock springs from some bracken by the burn- side, or a pack of Grouse go streaming away to give alarm to the deer, you see in the appearance of the startled herd another charming picture of wild life in the Highlands. Whether you get a shot or no, seems scarcely to matter. You have seen what you came out to see—a wild red deer. You have watched him while still unconscious of your presence, you have noticed his demeanour when first he took your wind, you have marvelled at his keen sight, his wonderful sense of smell, and, as soon as he moves, his extraordinary pace over rough ground, where at every step he seems to risk a broken limb, until at length he has dis- appeared from view, and the -corrie holds only the Grouse which have given him timely notice to quit. Many a time and oft while tramping over the hill with the rifle still in its cover, and the drizzling rain descending gently but coldly, even in September, have I stood still and felt a greater pleasure in contemplating the changing moods of Nature than in looking for the chance of a shot. Sometimes, indeed, through sheer carelessness and 86 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST neglect of the proper use of the spy-glass, have I let a good stag go away unharmed, and solaced myself with a loving stare at an Eagle perched on a crag above me, or a pair of soaring Buzzards higher still. As an example of a day’s enjoyment without sport while in the midst of opportunities for it, a day in September comes vividly to mind. Even the date is accurately remembered—the 26th—as marking the first fall of snow that year, and the extraordinary change of temperature’ which accompanied the pursuit of Grouse and Ptarmigan within a fortnight of shooting Partridges under a burning sun in a southern county. The first look out from the window on awakening was not reassuring. A light rain and leaden grey clouds betokened a repetition of the weather of the day before. It might or might not improve as the day wore on—there was no saying ; and one had to decide whether to shoot or stalk, or stay at home and try to sketch the loch from the windows of the lodge. Exercise of some sort was decided upon. Whether one got wet through or no, seemed of little consequence. We were getting used to it after a week’s training, and to come in at dusk well soaked, to enjoy a warm bath and a change, seemed only part and parcel of the daily routine, no matter what was the sport in view. Stalking, then, being the order of the day, and breakfast over, we fling on our shooting capes, pull our caps over our eyes, and start for the hill. A WET DAY ON THE HILL 87 A tramp of two miles puts us in good marching order before reaching the ground we have in view as the scene of the day’s operations. As we sit down to spy the face of the opposite hill, one by one we pick up the ruddy coats of recumbent deer, at times almost invisible until lit up by a gleam of sunshine on the passing of a cloud. Then they seem to stand out sharp and clear, and their coats shine bright by comparison with the brown heath amongst which they are lying. We can count them easily, but they are all hinds and small stags, not worth a stalker’s attention. As we continue our ascent, the rain gets colder, turns to sleet, and finally to snow, until by the time we have reached the summit, nearly 3000 feet above sea level, our jackets and caps are as white as the surrounding rocks. One can_ scarcely believe it is the middle of September. So stealthy and unobtrusive are our movements that the Grouse hardly perceive us, or, if they do, are unwilling to take wing. A bonnie brood unexpectedly and closely approached, whirr round the shoulder of the hill and disappear in the blinding snow. On the way up we are reminded of the loneliness of the place by the occasional hoarse croak of a Raven, a pair of which share the solitude of the crags with more than one pair of Buzzards. Before the snow fell, and while yet a fitful gleam of sunshine illumined the rocks, three of the latter birds came into view, soaring in circles, and almost deluding us into the belief that they were Eagles, so large did they appear on outspread wings when seen at 88 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST no great distance. But the Eagle was there, too. High above all, and perched upon a lofty crag, he sat so still that he would have escaped notice altogether had he not given a vigorous shake of his wings to get rid of the falling snow just as our spy-glass was slowly sweeping the skyline. We sat down to have a longer look at him, and all we wished for was a better light. He was within range of a rifle, and for a moment we calculated the distance and speculated on the result of a shot. But the idea was at once dismissed as_ base. Eagles were too seldom seen to be treated in that fashion, and the pleasure of seeing one alive amid such wild surroundings far outweighed any satisfaction that could arise from contemplating his lifeless form. All that we thought of doing was to get as near as possible to him before he took wing. Nearer and nearer we approached, until at length the huge pinions were unfolded and with two mighty flaps the great bird launched itself in the air and flew heavily out of sight. Hardly had the Eagle disappeared from view when we found ourselves sooner than we expected in the haunts of Ptarmigan. A brood rose within twenty yards of us, and, flying a short distance, pitched again in a spot which we could easily reach. So tame did we find them that we were able to sit down within shot of them and have a good look at them through our glasses. It was a great treat to observe at such close quarters these most inacces- sible of all British birds. Inaccessible, that is, as regards their lofty haunts, but tame enough when A WET DAY ON THE HILL 89 found, because seldom visited or disturbed. ) 32°) a7 et | © Fourth day | Bray to Henley 73,| 26] 22] 8 | 25 | 10 Marked since 35 {20} 6]| 4] of o Totals 142 | 60 | gt | 48 | 68 | 36 Totals. 114 152 65 445 Here it will be seen that in the lower reaches of the river there were comparatively few swans, that their numbers increased in proportion as they escaped from the traffic of boats and warehouses, and that they were most numerous between Bray and Henley. Swan Upping, 1894. First day . Third day . | Staines to Bray Fourth day | Bray to Henley Marked since London to Ditton. Second day | Ditton to Staines . Totals Queen’s. | Vintners’.| Dyers’. i) 7 th £ bh 3 Bj aS | BS eg ee © 2 See Oo TA) PF | -Q| be) 2 | Or BP 13 | 19 | 34 | 29 | 25 | 19 | 130 2 5 | 36/48: ):23.) 4.) 108 47 | 17 | 12. | © | to) Tr | 112 33 | 21 § | @) @} soy) “65 Laan (32 60/96 64) 69 34) 455 198 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST In 1894 there was a slight increase in the total number of birds on the river, and while the Vintners’ Company gained twenty-one, the Dyers’ Company lost one, and the Royal swans were reduced by ten. Queen’s, | Vintners’.| Dyers’. Swan Upping, 1895. oh tn P or) go) 8S pele | S oO S ° iS ° S First day . | Londonto Ditton. | 16} 5|17/ 6] 5] 9} 49 Second day | Ditton to Staines. | 14] 5 | 35 | 11 | 24] 8] 97 Third day . | Stainesto Bray .| 21 | 10 | 45 | 27 | 26 | 11 | 140 Fourth day | Bray to Henley . | 38 | 16] 15 | 2] 15 | 10] 96 Marked since «| 6: | ta! 34 Oh) 22-) cal 29 Totals. -| 95 | 50 1115 | 46 | 72 | 33 | 411 In 1895 the returns show a total reduction of forty-four birds, or twenty-six below the average for the past three years. Taking the figures for this period, it would appear from the foregoing tables that the average number of swans maintained on the river, old and young, is 437, of which 179 belong to the Crown, 153 to the Vintners’ Company, and 104 to the Dyers’ Company. In other words the Vintners’ Company owns about fifty more swans than the Dyers’ Company, while the Crown has twenty-five more than the Vintners’. The swanherds reported that as a rule the swans in the Thames are well treated by the public, who feed them frequently, and do not molest the young nor take the eggs. This, of course, has an im- SWAN UPPING 199 portant bearing in maintaining their numbers. Casualties unavoidably occur, such as the swamp- ing of nests, and the consequent addling of eggs ; the destruction of newly-hatched young by pike or by accident; deaths from cold or starvation in winter, although at that season many of the birds get housed and fed; and so forth. It is pleasant to know that the Thames-loving portion of the public show consideration for the swans from choice, and not from compulsion, although the swanherds would not be slow to invoke the aid of the law were it necessary to prevent the destruction of birds or eggs. As to the legal status of the birds themselves, the principle seems to be that when a swan is reduced lawfully into the possession of a private person, whether it be marked or not, he may be said to have a property in it for the purpose of an indictment at common law for larceny or otherwise ; but that, if the bird be at liberty in the sea, or ina navigable river, pvzma facie it belongs to the Crown. Although it is not larceny to take the eggs of swans, since the law has assigned a less punishment for the offence by Statute, the eggs are protected under sec. 24 of the Game Act, 1 & 2 Will. IV. cap. 32, which enacts that, “If any person not having the right of killing the game upon any land—nor having permission from the person having such right—shall wilfully take out of the nest, or destroy in the nest upon such land the eggs of any bird or game, or of any swaz, wild duck, teal, or wigeon, 200 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST he shall, on conviction thereof before two justices of the peace, forfeit and pay for every egg so taken or destroyed, such sum of money not exceeding 5s. as to the justices shall seem meet, together with the costs of the conviction.” In 1859, at the Spring Assizes at Reading, a case of stealing a Swan was tried before Baron Channell, when the defendant, one Lovejoy, was charged with stealing a Swan belonging to the Dyers’ Company. The learned judge held, on the authority of Lord Hale (Pleas of the Crown, vol. i., p. 511), that a Swan, though at large, and a bird sere nature, was under the circumstances the sub- ject of larceny, being marked. The defendant was accordingly convicted. BIRD LIFE.ON THE BROADS To the naturalist who is intent on observing and not slaying such unfamiliar birds as he may meet with in the course of his rambles, there are few more attractive places in England than the Norfolk Broads. And this for several reasons. They lie out of the beaten track, and to be seen must be made the object of a special expedition ; the scenery is very unlike what most people are accustomed to, reminding one more of Holland than of England, while the class of birds one meets with at every turn are more or less of a kind unfamiliar to the majority of wayfarers. This, of course, might be expected from the general aspect of the country, which is swz generzs, and characterised by its ex- treme flatness, the superabundance of water, the absence of trees, and the luxuriant growth of sedge, bullrush, and yellow iris. Deep, sedgy “ ronds,” or dense masses of reeds and rushes shut out at times the adjacent marshes. On the one hand, to quote Mr Stevenson, a wide expanse of swampy ground, relieved here and there with belts of alder and birch, or dwarf coverts suggestive of pheasants and woodcocks in autumn, blends broad with broad; on the other, some slight recess in the waving reed screen is covered in summer with a 201 202 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST profusion of water-lilies, or an alder carr, fringing the water's edge, casts a grateful shade in strange contrast to the surrounding glare. Everywhere the rich aquatic herbage teems with bird life. To enjoy these unwonted surroundings to the full there is no better plan than to hire a punt, and, under the skilful guidance of a marsh man, explore the reedy labyrinths that lead gradually from the margin of the broad to the open water. Indeed, this is the only mode of ensuring a glimpse of birds at close quarters, for were one to adopt the alternative of trying to walk round the broad, such denizens as Coots, Moor-hens, and Grebes would only be seen swimming at a distance, while the smaller species, such as the Reed and Sedge Warblers, the Bearded Tit and the Black-headed Bunting, would quickly be lost to sight amongst the dense shelter of reeds and rushes. The use of a punt, moreover, has this advantage: it enables the visitor to approach the waterfowl silently, and, to a great extent, screened from their observation ; for the punt is so low, the reed beds so high, and the waterways so tortuous, that one may engage all day ina series of stalks by water so effectively as to bring one literally face to face with some of the shyest creatures, that would not otherwise suffer themselves to be so nearly approached. So admirably adapted are most birds for the particular kind of country in which they can best get their living that, upon a rough classification into groups representing the woodland, moorland, downland, fenland, and coastland, it would be com- BIRD LIFE ON THE BROADS 203 paratively easy to predict the species most likely to be met with in any one of these situations. So in Broadland anyone with a good knowledge of birds may make a pretty shrewd guess beforehand what kinds he will have a chance of observing, and, what is more, will probably succeed in finding most of them. There are, of course, many ubiquitous species so generally given to wander, and to make themselves at home under almost any conditions that we do not expect them to observe strictly the boundaries above indicated. Hence we need not be surprised to see about the broads several common birds of wide distribution which may be observed any day without going so farafield. What we look for, naturally, are the characteristic marsh birds, the waders, the swimmers, and the aquatic warblers, though something, of course, will depend upon the time of year at which our visit is made, for the warblers are only to be found there in summer, at which season bird life seems always more abundant, by reason of its being the nesting time. As we approach the broad to step into our punt, one of the first birds to come into view is a Peewit, which rises near the edge of the water and flies out over the marsh, its conspicuous black and white plumage showing up well in the course of its char- acteristic evolutions. Almost at the same time the wild, tuneful note of the Redshank is heard, as first one and then another of these birds rises from the marsh and follows in the direction of the retreating Peewit. A very different looking bird is the Red- shank on the wing. Viewed from behind with 204 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST outstretched pinions, the plumage looks grey, with a white band across the wings, and a white patch just above the tail. The long orange-coloured legs hang out behind as the bird rises, but are soon concealed outstretched beneath the tail. If the nest be near, the parent birds will hang about with THE REED WARBLER. short beats of wing, betraying their anxiety by their cries and their reluctance to leave the spot. At any other time they would fly right away, their wild, musical notes being heard long after they are out of sight, And now, seated in the punt, field-glasses in hand, we glide softly away from the bank, and enter a channel which winds amongst the tall reeds, BIRD LIFE ON THE BROADS 205 slowly and noiselessly propelled by the long pole or “quant” of the marsh man. We catch a hasty glimpse of a Reed Bunting, a fine cock bird, with black head and a white collar.’ As he disappears amongst the reeds he flirts an ample tail, in which the outer feathers show white, an unmistakable little bird at all times. Hardly has he disappeared THE SEDGE WARBLER. before we hear the characteristic hurrying notes of the Sedge Warbler, ‘‘chitty, chitty, chitty, cha, cha,” and catch sight of the bird as it quickly shifts its position on a slanting reed stem. We easily know it from the Reed Warbler by its mottled appearance about the head and wings, the same parts in the other bird being of a uniform pale 1 Its portrait appears on page 15. 206 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST brown. The ‘“Sedge-bird” nests close to the ground, the ‘‘Reed-wren” suspends its nest amongst the reeds, two or three of which pass through the nest and help to support it, while its deep, cup-shaped form serves admirably to prevent the eggs from rolling out when swayed by the wind. It is, perhaps, too much to expect amongst the little denizens of these vast reed beds a peep at some rare species, such as the Bearded Tit or the Marsh Warbler, so like a Reed-wren as to be with difficulty distinguished from it, or the Aquatic Warbler, of which only a very few examples have been procured in this country, but which may be detected at a glance by the three white streaks on the head, one over each eye, the third down the centre of the forehead. Further away in the marsh we should hear the unmistakable trill of the Grasshopper Warbler, though a sight of it can only be obtained by patient watching. It loves drier situations than any of the birds above mentioned, and we have never seen or heard it amongst the reeds. Along the margin of the water, where the grass is short, the Yellow Wagtail picks its way daintily, yet rapidly, now and again darting into the air to catch a passing insect. A cock bird of this species in summer time isas yellow as a canary, and does not fail to strike with admiration the observer who notices it for the first time. In a similar situation, that is, on the margin of the water, a somewhat larger bird may be seen 1 Tts portrait is given on page 17. BIRD LIFE ON THE BROADS 207 running, its mud-coloured back harmonising so well with the natural surroundings that when at rest it is almost invisible, unless the eye has first detected it while in motion. This is the Common Sandpiper or Summer Snipe, as it is often called. On taking flight it skims out over the water with quick pulsations of the wing, returning in a semi- THE BEARDED TIT. circle to the shore some distance away as it utters a sharp note and oft-repeated “weet, weet, weet.” From the side of a marsh drain we may often see a larger and darker Sandpiper spring up with a louder whistle, ‘‘ tui, tui, tui,” and take the air like a Snipe, flying not unlike one, but looking somewhat smaller, blacker, and with a white rump, which may be seen at a considerable distance, as in the case of 208 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST the House Martin, as the bird flies away with its back towards you. This is the Green Sandpiper (Lotanus ochropus), which may be looked for annually in spring and autumn, in such situations as are commonly affected by its smaller relative above named. Unlike other Sandpipers which nest on the ground, this bird has a singular habit of laying its eggs in the deserted nest of a Thrush, Magpie, or Pigeon, sometimes at a considerable elevation, and on this account no doubt they have often escaped observation. From the fact of the Green Sandpiper having been met with in pairs during the summer months, in situations eminently suited to its habits, it is not unlikely that it has occasion- ally reared its young in this country, but although there is much circumstantial evidence in that direc- tion, the fact of its having bred in any part of the British Islands has never been satisfactorily estab- lished. But now, the punt having emerged from the reeds into the open, we see a great expanse of water, and in the distance a lot of birds, swimming so low as to make it difficult to distinguish the species. But as we draw nearer to them all doubts are resolved. Some Ducks and Teal take wing and go off in separate parties, the latter in close order and flying with great rapidity, the former more scattered and with higher and heavier flight. There still remain behind upon the surface, and quickly making for the nearest reed bed, a number of birds that look black in the distance, but have a conspicuously white forehead. These BIRD LIFE ON THE BROADS — 209 are Coots, which at first endeavour to escape by swimming, but eventually open their wings and scuttle over the surface of the water, and soon disappear amongst the reeds, a few only making their escape by diving. Water-hens, of course, are amongst the commonest of waterfowl in such con- genial haunts, and the Water-rail and Spotted Crake THE COOT. are also, doubtless, there, but from their skulking habits and unwillingness to take flight, they are seldom seen except by snipe shooters, and then, usually, when hard pressed by a dog. Snipe breed commonly in the adjoining marshes, once the haunt of the Black-tailed Godwit, and the Ruff and Reeve ; but the two last named have long since ceased to gladden the eyes of the wandering naturalist, and oO 210 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST now only make their appearance in much reduced numbers during the period of their migrations in spring and autumn. The largest fowl of all that habitually frequent the Broads has yet to be mentioned, namely, the Heron. The still solitude of the place attracts him, and he quits the marsh dykes, with their frogs and water-rats, for a change to the reed-sheltered broad, where he shares a fish diet with the Otter, the Grebe, and the Kingfisher, all expert fishers in their way. Time was when the Cormorant also made one of them, for eighty years ago these birds nested in Norfolk, as did also the Avocet (1825) and, still longer ago, the Spoonbill (1671) and the Crane (1542). But these birds are no longer to be classed amongst the summer residents of the marshes, any more than the Bittern, the Godwit, the Ruff and Reeve, or the Black Tern. These are now seldom seen, except at the period of their migrations in spring, when a few stragglers appear in the neighbourhood of their ancient haunts, as if seeking for a quiet nesting-place ; or again in autumn, when on their way south from distant breeding grounds less disturbed. At these same seasons the broads are visited by numbers of Black- headed Gulls’ and several kinds of Terns, or ‘‘Sea Swallows,” namely, the Common, the Lesser, and the Black Tern, the last named the only one that ever nested in the marshes, the two others invari- ably resorting during the breeding season to the shingle beaches by the sea. 1 The Black-headed Gull is figured on page 22. BIRD LIFE ON THE BROADS air Amongst the wildfowl to be seen on the Broads in summer may be noted, besides the common Wild Duck and Teal, the Shoveler, the Gadwall, and the Garganey, while later in the year, when the “foreign” ducks come in, flocks of Wigeon and Pochard arrive, and smaller parties of Tufted THE GREAT CRESTED GREBE. Ducks. The reader who would know more of the avifauna of the Broads may be referred to the admirable pages of Stevenson’s Lzrds of Norfolk, and to Lubbock’s fauna of Norfolk, edited by Southwell, as well as to the more recently-published volume on Zhe Norfolk Broads, edited by W. Dutt, in which will be found an in- teresting chapter on the birds by the Rev. M. C. 212 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST Bird, as well as a detailed list of them which is given in an appendix. In addition to these sources of information, many valuable articles by Messrs Gurney, Southwell, Feilden, Norgate, Upcher, and other Norfolk naturalists, may be found in the Transactions of the Norfolk and Norwich Natur- alists’ Society, which, founded some thirty odd years ago, still remains a model compendium of local records. SOME SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY DECOYS For some years past the authoritative work on wildfowl decoys has been, and, indeed, still is, that by Sir R. Payne Gallwey, which is so compre- hensive in its details as to leave little room for any additions of importance. There are, however, sources of information which escaped his notice, and which are of sufficient interest to deserve mention. The following extracts will have an attraction not only for owners of existing decoys, but also for naturalists with antiquarian tastes, who may glean from them some interesting particulars concerning the now obliterated traces of the former haunts of English wildfowl, and of the various species which used to be captured in decoys that have long since disappeared. Sir William Brereton, the Parliamentary general, who was created a baronet in 1627, and died in 1661, lived at Handford, between Wilmslow and Cheadle, in East Cheshire, and owned a decoy with five pipes, near Dodleston. The present appearance of the site is described by Messrs Coward and Oldham in their Bzrds of Cheshire (1900, page 162), and it is noteworthy that a farm on the road between Dodleston and Chester is still known as the Decoy Farm. In the working of this 213 214 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST decoy the General took much personal interest, and lost no opportunity of visiting and inspecting others, not only in England and Ireland, but also in Holland, and making observations upon them in his journal. Fortunately, as pointed out to me by Professor Newton, his notes have been preserved. In a MS. account of his Travels in Holland, the United Provinces, England, Scotland, and Ireland, in possession of Sir Philip Grey Egerton, Bart., of Oulton Park, Cheshire, and printed in 1844 for the Chetham Society, frequent mention is made of the wildfowl decoys which he saw in Holland, in 1634, and some curious details are given respecting them. The following entries are worth quoting. On the way to Holland, he says :— ‘““We lodged at the Ship at Quindburrow (Queenborough), and were well used ; six lobsters bought for 1s., one quick (z.e., alive). A con- venient place in the remotest part of the marsh for a ’coy” (p. 3). Arrived in Holland, on reaching Dort, he wrote :— “The island whereon this fair maiden city stands is encompassed round by the Maas and Waal, two great navigable rivers. This island is about six or eight English miles about, and pre- served by a strong bank about 12 yards high, beyond which bank are seated many (some dozen or twenty) ’coys. We were in three ’coys, all well wooded ; two of them adjoining close together, the one a lesser ’coy (which is the winter ’coy), hath fine pipes “ke unto mine. It is ten English roods SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY DECOYS 215 long on the sides, eight roods broad ; no wildfow] therein, but we were permitted to walk within the hut. The ’coy ducks came boldly unto us and fed, belonging hereunto 150 ducks, 13 drakes; dainty, fair, spacious, and well-proportioned pipes, higher overhead, longer and better compassed than I ever saw in England. Twiggen nests provided for the ducks to breed in. “The other ’coy joining hereunto much more spacious and larger; it hath six pipes in one end only, thirty-five roods long and thirty broad. We were not permitted to see this larger coy. Ducks sold for 6d. apiece; two pellstarts (pintails), two smeaths” (wigeon),’ two shovelars,each equivalent to a duck, and four teals 6d. ‘‘ Another coy we saw, wherein are four pipes in one end; a great pool. The ducks fed with barley. The dog farm, three roods from the hut or the pipes, and by the help of a little ladder the dog is enabled to leap into the hole a yard high. The fowl in the little ’coy fed with barley. But we could not be admitted to take a full view of any of these ’coys, neither are there any spy holes into the pond ; but all their pipes are much more curious, and carry a far better proportion than ours ” (p. 17). On reaching Delft, Sir William Brereton wrote :— “In this town tame storks and shovelars (spoonbills) kept tame; birds with long legs, less bodies than our storks, and broader bills like our 1 Known as “‘smee” in Norfolk. Newton, Dict. Birds, p. 5, v. Smew. 216 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST shovelars. After dinner went to see Gabriel Direkson’s ’coy, a rich boor in the country, who dwells beyond Shippley (a few miles south-west of Delft). Heis ’coyman himself. His ’coy is seated near his own and some other houses, and the high- ways and navigable rivers on both sides, nearer by much than Dodleston Bridge or Findloes House is to my ‘coy (ze., two miles from Dodleston Bridge). His’coy hath five pipes as mzne,but better compassed, and two of them almost meet. Much wood, reed grass, and thicket, within ” [which is] ‘‘the hut, so as the fowl on one end cannot discern the dog show- ing elsewhere. Abundance of quince trees herein planted, which prosper very well. “He hath about 200 ducks, 20 drakes. He hath fowl bred betwixt pellstarts (pintails) and ducks, about twenty." I saw some of them. Many grey ducks (gadwalls), which are best. ’Coy dogs are best that are either white or red, and the more hairy the better. These ducks are as tame and familiar about his house as any tame ones can be. ‘‘ Smeathes (wigeon) he keeps in a hut near his house, covered with a net” (p. 23). On June 5, Sir William Brereton reached the Hague, where he wrote :— “In the morning I went to see some ‘coys, whereof here are abundance. Six in my view, two whereof I saw, the former rented for 250 gilders, the other for 225 gilders a year. Six here are within half a Dutch mile. They had both three 1 Perhaps the earliest case on record of a cross between pintail and mallard. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY DECOYS 17 pipes in one end, and one in the other; 200 flying smeathes (wigeon), belonging to one ’coy; abund- ance of pellstarts (pintail), and thirty pellstarts in one hutch. ‘‘ These ’coys near the highways; mighty high trees grow in both of them, so full of cover within the hutch and without, as all ground, reed seatings, and all, covered with wood. Here a ’coy duck brings up chickens. Wood covereth some pipes so thick as there is no net. Sometimes, take 200 in a day; sell them at Christmas for 1s. a duck; at other times sometimes 6d., 7d., 8d., and od. as in season. Trees, herein, as high as birches; their ducks, smeathes, and pellstarts exceeding tame.” On Saturday, June 7, 1634, Sir William Brereton went from Leyden, as he tells us, ‘‘to John’s father’s, in a waggon by him sent.” John was a Dutchman employed to manage his decoy in Cheshire, and had accompanied him to Holland to visit his relations, and see some of the Dutch decoys in company with his master. ‘We went about six o’clock (a.m.) and came to Allifein, about half-past nine, which is nine English miles... . Before ten hours we came to John’s father, and went with him to his ’coy, wherein wood excellently grown; apple trees, plum trees, and cherry trees prosper very well, and shed forth abundance of wood. The largest and neatest 'coy house I have seen, lofted overhead to lay corn or hemp seed; the pipes so straight, bending some little towards you. Four pipes only until last winter, two in either end; one more added last 218 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST winter of no use. Here, by the help of a windmill, they can drown all the ground round about the ’coy. On my return I went in to see (at Allifein) the house of the Lord Offerbecke. On the back side I saw a pool empaled, wherein were pellstarts, smeathes, shovelars, teals, and others, and astraight poor pipe to take fowl in.” On his way north, to Scotland, in 1635, Sir William Brereton visited two decoys which have escaped notice in Sir R. Payne Gallwey’s book. In June of that year he was at Newcastle, where he “lodged at The Swan, at Mr Swan’s, the post- master, and paid 8d. ordinary, and no great pro- vision.”” Mr Swan, he remarked, was ‘a very forward man to have a ’coy here erected.” Half- way between Newcastle and Morpeth, that is, about seven miles from the former town, he “took notice of a convenient seat of a ’coy in Point Island, which belongs to Mr Mark Errington.” All traces of this decoy have long since disappeared, and no allusion is made to it under the head of ‘Wild Duck,” in Hancock’s Birds of Northumber- land, 1874. There is no evidence of the existence at any time of a decoy in Scotland, though some years ago the formation of one near the Bay of Findhorn was contemplated, and, indeed, com- menced, by Major R. Chadwick, but was never completed. Sir William Brereton makes no mention of any seen by him when travelling in Scotland in 1635. But when in July of that year he proceeded to Ireland, he found a decoy in Wexford, which he describes as follows. As no SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY DECOYS 19 mention of this decoy is made by Sir R. Payne Gallwey in his book on decoys, nor by Mr Ussher, in his Bzrds of Ireland, it is deserving of notice. ‘“About a mile hence lies a farm called ‘ The Park,’ which is now leased unto one Mr Hardye, an Englishman, who lives upon it, and hath an estate in it about thirteen years. This land is almost an island, and the rent which Mr Hardye pays is about £16 per annum. .. . Here is the best feeding for fowl that I ever saw. This grass, which comes from the mud, is good food for them, and there is good store of it; and here is a little grove of oaks, wherein is no good timber, but it so stands as it is most strong shelter to the fowl that feed or frequent under it. Here is the most commodious and convenient seat for a ’coy that ever I saw, but there is no more room whereupon to erect a ’coy betwixt the water and an high bank of the wood, than four or five roods in breadth, but sufficient in length; so as you must either make so much of the mud firm land whereupon to build your coy, or else you must only make good one side with two pipes, or you must erect your work upon a point of land, which lieth much eastward, and is in view of the town (Wexford), and much more inconvenient, or you must carry away abundance of earth to make a pond and pipes in some ground as yet much too high to the N.W. end of the wood. Here grow ollers (alders) sufficient to plant a ’coy, and here is sufficient wood to cleave into stakes for alluses, and as 1 am informed reed may be provided out of Sir Thomas Esmond’s land, which is on the 220 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST other side of the water ; and all necessaries may be supplied by water from the Slane, Mr Hardye demands for his interest, which is for thirteen years, 455, and will abate nothing.” From this and what follows it would appear that Sir William Brereton was so pleased with the capabilities of the place for working a decoy, that he negotiated for a lease, and the purchase of Mr Hardye’s interest; but the landlord asked a premium of £100 for an eighty years’ lease, which Sir Willian Brereton thought unreasonable, and the negotiation fell through. On his return from Ireland, za Bristol, he journeyed from Bridgwater to Woolavington, thence to Marke, and to Stoke Rodney, near which last- named place he visited a decoy which is briefly mentioned by Sir R. Payne Gallwey, who is mis- taken, however, in supposing that it was probably not constructed until after 1802, in which year an Act was passed for the drainage of the adjoining marshes. Sir Willian Brereton saw it in 1635, and thus describes it :— ‘About half a mile hence (z.e., from Stoke) is Orion’s ’coy, which is placed very near a highway. This is a large spacious ’coy pool, and wood pros- pereth exceeding well. By reason of the drought there was a great want of water, until it was replenished and supplied with some late found out springs” (p. 171). This answers Sir R. Payne Gallwey’s surmise that until the drainage of the marshes after 1802, the superabundance of water rendered the working of a SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY DECOYS 221 decoy impracticable. He does not mention the number of pipes, but Sir William Brereton tells us that there were five, as in hisown decoy. Headds:— “The seatings within the ‘coy are overgrown with wood ; abundance here is of tame fowl, drake pellstarts, and smeathes (pintail and wigeon) I saw, but no ducks. The ’coy house is larger than mine, both higher and longer. .. . The owner advised me, if it were possible, to bring a spring into my coy: by the means hereof they took good store of fowl last storm. I observed most part of the ground betwixt the pipes planted with withens (willows), except one orchard of cherry trees. Here were three dogs of different colours, none so little, nor seeming so nimble, as my ‘coy dogs. Here much oats is used, as in my coy. Very few ducks bred here this summer came to good.” In these few extracts from the little-known journal of a famous General, we have a substantial addition to the history of decoys in this country, and while on this subject, it may be well to remark that, since Sir R. Payne Gallwey published his authoritative work, another important discovery has been made by Mr Southwell, who, in the sixth volume of the TZyvansactions of the Norfolk Naturalists Society (1897, pp. 352-359), has published an interesting account of an old decoy at Feltwell, in Norfolk, concerning which no infor- mation was available when Sir R. Payne Gallwey was collecting material for the volume in question. In any new issue of the work, these important additions should not be overlooked. THE OLDEST BOOK ON FISHING Wuatever branch of field sports may be to a man’s liking, its early history, if he be also of a literary turn, should be a curious subject for inquiry. It is always interesting to ascertain the origin of any method which experience has shown to be successful, and to discover, if possible, the earliest writer who thought he knew enough of his subject to attempt to instruct others. For the earliest treatise on hunting in England we have to go back to the time of Edward II., to a little tract in Norman French, composed, about 1320, by the King’s huntsman, Guillaume Twici, for the purpose (as he tells us) of teaching others what he himself had learnt in his time. The art of falconry found exponents long before that date. The troubadour Deudes de Prades, in a French poem composed about the end of the twelfth century, refers to a treatise on hawking by Henry I., surnamed Beau- clerc (A.D. 1100-1135). And in another poem on the same subject in Norman French, which, according to Sir Henry Ellis, was written in the Abbey of Reading about the year 1240, the author states that he took his matter from a book made for or by the good King Edward—that is, Edward the 222 THE OLDEST BOOK ON FISHING 223 Confessor. Earlier still, namely, in the tenth century, Archbishop AE lfric’s Cod/oguy, designed to teach the Anglo-Saxon scholars Latin, includes a dialogue between a scholar and a falconer, which gives some curious details of hawking as practised in Anglo-Saxon times. Thus, in regard to hunt- ing and hawking, the literature of both subjects commenced much earlier than that of fishing, and on all three subjects treatises had been written long before the Book of St Albans was printed. The earliest printed book in any language on hawking, Das Erste Buch, appeared at Augsburg in black letter about 1472. The question remains, what is the earliest known book on angling? Most people will be under the impression that the answer must be the Book of St Albans, but it is important to note that the treatise on fishing formed no part of ¢he first edition, and therefore Dame Juliana Berners could have had no hand in it, either as author or compiler. What are the facts? In 1486 the Boke was first printed at St Albans by one whose name has not come down to us, but who is described as ‘‘ some- time schoolmaster at St Albans.” It is evidently a school book, designed for the instruction of youth in the accomplishments of the period, in which, as he tells us, ‘‘gentylmen and honeste persones have grete delyte.” The lessons it contains, and the language in which they are conveyed, adapted to the intelligence of youth, show that they were intended to be taught by a school-dame, in all probability by the wife of the 224 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST schoolmaster who printed the book for her... Thus we read :— ‘“‘Wheresoevere ye fare by frith or by fell, My dere chylde take hede how Tristram doth you tell How many maner beestys of venery ther are. Lysten to your dame, and she shall you lere.” The doggerel rhymes, no doubt, were intended as an aid to memory. This first edition, then, contained three treatises—the first on hawking, the second on hunting, the third on the blazing of arms. None of them was original, but all were compiled from older manuscripts, which have been identified. From the colophon to the third treatise it is clear that it was not original, but was ‘“translatyd and compylyt togedyr at Seynt Albans.” It was, in fact, translated from the Latin MS. of Nicolas Upton, De Studio Militari. The Treatyse of Fysshynge with an Angle formed no part of the Boke of St Albans, and was not printed until ten years later (1496) by Wynkyn de Worde, Caxton’s assistant and successor at the Westminster press. With this, naturally, Dame Juliana Berners had nothing whatever to do, and the mistake in attributing it to her probably arose from finding it included by Haslewood in the first important reprint of the book in black letter in 1810, and supposing from the title that it was a reprint of the first edition. Haslewood, however, took the second edition as being more complete with the treatise 1 Haslewood alludes to him as ‘‘the monkish schoolmaster,” in which case, of course, there could have been no marriage. But there is no evidence of any kind to warrant the assumption that he was a monk. THE OLDEST BOOK ON FISHING 225 on fishing, and he is careful to state in his commentary on this part of the volume (Lutroduc- tion, p. 60) that “neither for Juliana Barnes, the monkish schoolmaster, nor anyone who assisted in compiling the original Book of St Albans, can there be consistently advanced a claim of author- ship in this ‘little pamphlet.’” The last two words have reference to Wynkyn de Worde’s own explanation of the reasons which prompted him to add it for the first time to the treatises previously printed. He says :— “And for by cause (z.¢., in order) that this present treatyse sholde not come to the hondys of eche ydle persone whyche wolde desire it yf it were enpryntyd allone by itself and put m a bytyll plaunfiet, therefore I have compylyd it in a greter volume of dyverse bokys ... to the entent that the forsayd ydle persones [who may care nothing for fishing] sholde not by this meanes utterly dystroye it.” The wisdom of such a course is now fully apparent, and has proved a lasting boon to anglers. With regard to the authorship of the Fishing, we learn from some remarks under the head of “Carp” that it was a compilation partly from oral instruction, partly from “ bokes of credence”—that is, from earlier manuscripts. The writer tells us that he was ‘‘loth to wryte more than I knowe and have provyd. But well I wote that the redde worme and the menow ben good baytys for him (z.2., the carp) at all tymes, as I have herde saye P 226 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST of persones credyble, and also found wryten in bokes of credence.” ? So that, after all, it was not the earliest work on fishing, as many suppose, although the earliest printed treatise on the subject. In 1883 the late Mr Thomas Satchell, joint author with Mr West- wood of the invaluable Azb/zotheca Piscatorza, printed what he called ‘“‘An Older Form of the Zveatyse of Fysshynge with an Angle, attributed to Dame Juliana Barnes,” from a manuscript in the possession of Mr Alfred Denison, and previously in possession of Haslewood. It is described as ‘‘a fragment of a manuscript of the earlier part of the fifteenth century, forming a considerable portion of the little pamphlet first printed in the Book of St Albans.” It is incidentally referred to in the ‘ Advertise- ment” to Pickering’s reprint of the Zveatyse of fysshynge, published in 1827, as having formerly belonged to William Herbert. From him it passed to Brand, and from Brand to George Isted, who presented it to Haslewood a few months before he died. Needless to say, it is of the highest interest and importance to literary anglers. That it is an independent text (says Mr Satchell) cannot be doubted, and in this opinion we are supported by the authority of Professor Skeat, who is in- clined to assign it an earlier date than 1450. Though probably an older form of the treatise printed at Westminster in 1496, it is drawn from the same original, which, wherever it first came 1 These words occur in an older form of the treatise to be noticed presently. THE OLDEST BOOK ON FISHING 227 from, was at that time written in our language. The close correspondence in many passages forbids the idea that the two versions were independent translations from another tongue. Here, then, we have a treatise on fishing which was in existence before the first edition of the Book of St Albans was printed, and yet was not included in it, being evidently unknown to Dame Juliana Berners and her printer. As there is no evidence to show that either of them had any hand in the productions of the Westminster press, we are forced to the conclusion that the popular notion which attributes the treatise of 1496 to Dame Juliana Berners is a fallacy, and the sooner this is re- cognised the better. It is not a little surprising that Mr Satchell did not view the matter in this light when writing his instructive preface to the ‘older form” above mentioned. What literary anglers should now endeavour to do is to discover some of the earlier ‘books of credence” which were known to the writer of the Treatise of Fishing. They may still be preserved amongst the manuscripts in continental libraries, and should be looked for bound up with tracts on ‘““Venerie,’” amongst which they have possibly escaped the notice of students more intent on the literature of other branches of field sports. Probably few anglers are aware that in 1492, a small quarto volume on fowling and fishing, written originally in Flemish, was printed at Antwerp by Matthias van der Goes. Its extreme rarity may be judged from the fact that only one copy of the first 228 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST edition is known to exist. But the possessor of it, Mr Alfred Denison, in 1872 had it translated into English and printed twenty-five copies only. One of these it has been my good fortune to see, anda very curious little volume it is. A small quarto of two sheets only, the first sheet having no signature ; the second has “Br” on the first leaf, and a full Pececleipres Ser NS ecque® PT s e ‘ Q, res \‘ ews NY AAA —* — ‘ AN ANGLER OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. page contains thirty lines. It is adorned with half a dozen quaint woodcuts, one of which is here reproduced from a tracing. It begins :-— “This little book shows how birds may be caught with the hands. And how fish may be caught with the hands and also otherwise. And also at what time of the year it is best for every- body to fish.” THE OLDEST BOOK ON FISHING 229 It concludes :— ‘‘And this work was caused to be printed by Matthias van der Goes.” In an introduction to the translation, Mr Denison, quoting Holtrop (Monumens Typo- graphiques des Pays Bas au XVe Siecle), recalls the fact that Matthias van der Goes printed at Antwerp from 1482 to 1491, in which year he died. His widow married his successor, Godfridus Bach, a bookbinder, on November 19, 1492, and the natural conclusion, therefore, seems to be that the little book was left in type by Van der Goes, and published soon after his death by Bach. Writing in 1872 Mr Denison expressed the opinion that it is the first known work on angling, since which date I am not aware that anything earlier has been discovered. It should be noted that his unique copy is a first edition, but another edition, without place or date, according to West- wood and Satchell (pp. 36, 37), is, or was, in the library of the Duc d’Arenberg in Brussels, while a third and much later edition is dated 1584. The very limited number of copies (twenty-five) of the English translation no doubt accounts for its being so little known to English anglers. FISHES TRAPPED BY BLADDERWORT So long ago as May 1884 the late Professor Moseley, of Oxford, made known a curious dis- covery by Mr G. E. Simms, of that city, who found that the bladder traps of Utricularia vulgaris are capable of catching newly-hatched fish and killing them. Mr Simms had brought him for examination a specimen of this aquatic plant in a glass vessel, in which there were numerous young Roach recently hatched from a mass of spawn lying at the bottom. Several of these small fish were seen to be dead, held fast in the grasp of the Bladderwort. Mr Simms then supplied a fresh specimen of the plant in a vessel with fresh young fish and spawn, and in about six hours more than a dozen of the fish were found to be entrapped. Most of them were caught by the head, which was usually pushed as far into the bladder as possible till the snout touched its hinder wall. In that position the two black eyes of the fish would show out conspicuously through the sides of the bladder. Less frequently a specimen was found to be caught by the tip of the snout. Several, however, were caught by the tip of the tail, which was more or less engulfed, and one was observed to be held by the yolk-sac. In three or four instances a fish had its head held by one 230 FISHES ENTRAPPED Dai bladder trap, and its tail by another, the body of the fish forming a connecting link between the two bladders. This curious circumstance, with fuller details, formed the subject of an article by Mr Simms which was published in Mature of July 24, 1884, accompanied by an illustration. Professor Moseley stated he had not been able to see a fish in the actual process of being trapped, nor to find one recently caught and showing signs of life ; all those found trapped were already dead. Curiously enough, Darwin, in his account of the trapping of crustacea and worms by U¢ricudarza, states that he also had been unable to observe the actual process of trapping, although Mrs Treat, of New Jersey, had often witnessed it. Professor Moseley thought that the mechanism by which the small fish became so deeply imbedded was to be explained by the fact, observed by Darwin, that the longer of the two pairs of projections composing the quadrifid processes by which the bladders of the U¢ricudarza are lined project obliquely inwards, and towards the posterior end of the bladder. These oblique processes, set all towards the hinder end of the bladder, look as if they must act together with the spring valves of the mouth of the bladder in utilising each fresh struggle of the capture for the purpose of pushing it further and further in- wards. Darwin had failed to detect any digestive process in Utricularia, and on cutting open longi- tudinally some of the bladders containing the heads and foreparts of fishes, Moseley found the tissues of the fish in a more or less slimy deliquescent con- 232 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST dition, which he attributed simply to decomposition. The quadrifid processses were bathed in this slimy animal matter, but although the processes themselves seemed to contain abundance of fine granular matter, possibly the result of absorption, the quantity of surrounding animal matter rendered the observa- tion uncertain. Ata meeting of the Queckett Microscopical Club, held on February 20, 1903, a letter was read from Mr E. Ernest Green of the Paradenyia Gardens, Ceylon, stating that, although he had no acquaint- ance with the British species of Utricularia, he was quite sure that a small species of this plant found in Ceylon did capture and hold fish in the way described. Mr Green had witnessed the process in an aquarium of his own, and although the bladders of the Ceylonese plant are barely one-sixteenth of an inch in length, he had on several occasions seen young fish nearly an inch long securely held by their tails in these tiny but most effective traps. Utricularia vulgaris, like other species of the genus (major, minor, and neglecta), is very local, growing in isolated patches in ponds and sluggish ditches, where coarse fish usually deposit their ova. This renders it as great an enemy to the small fry as wildfow] and otters are to the larger fish in streams and rivers, because for a considerable time after they emerge from the egg the young fish remain in the shallow water, and during this time great numbers of them must be killed by the vesicles of Utricularia. Mr Simms observed that, except in cases where FISHES ENTRAPPED 233 the plant had been displaced by the action of the wind, he always found it growing on the shadiest side of a pond, and almost invariably hidden by other aquatic vegetation. From this he inferred that excess of light was prejudicial to the plant, and he remarked that if when kept in an aquarium it is exposed to the full glare of the daylight the valves seemed to lose their elasticity, and the vesicles be- come detached from the stem and drop off. A knowledge of these facts may be useful to pisciculturists, who perhaps may not hitherto have suspected so curious a cause of mortality amongst young fry. FISH-EATING BATS By recent -systematists Bats are divided into two great groups, generally regarded as sub-orders, namely, the Megachiroptera, or large bats, chiefly fruit-eaters, and the MWecrochiroptera, or small bats, most of which are insectivorous, but some of which are known to eat fruit. In the former group, out of some seventy species. recognised as distinct, more than one-half belong to the genus Ptervopus, of which examples may always be seen in the Zoological Gardens. They are characterised by a long, fox-like face (whence the name “‘ flying fox”), the ears simple and pointed or very slightly rounded, the margins of the ear meeting at the base, so as to form a circle, the nose without any leaf-like appendages, the tail very short or wanting, the interfemoral membrane, which in our common bats incloses the tail, reduced to very small dimensions, while the long thumb, and in most cases the first finger also, is armed with a strong claw. Finally, the molar teeth have flattened crowns, with a central groove in the direction of the length of the jaw. In the other sub-orders of bats, which contains a much larger number of species (roughly speaking about 330 different kinds have been described) 234 FISH-EATING BATS 235 the majority are characterised by a shorter muzzle; the margins of the ear, instead of meeting at the base, are inserted at a little distance apart, and have a membranous lobe springing from near their base, and the tragus, or anterior lobe of the ear, largely developed. Many have curious leaf-like appendages on the nose (as in the case of our British Horseshoe Bats), the tail usually long, with an expansive interfemoral membrane, and no claw upon the index finger. The molar teeth have sharp tubercles, separated by transverse furrows, pro- ducing a pattern like a W on each tooth. These are the characteristics which, roughly speaking, enable us to decide offhand to which of the two great sub-orders any particular species of bat may belong; and although, as a general proposition, it may be asserted that the Megachiroptera are frugivorous, and the Mcro- chiroptera insectivorous, the observations of naturalists in different parts of the world go to prove that there are exceptions to the rule, and that with certain species of both groups the food is, at least occasionally, of a mixed character, the result probably of a gradual adaptation of habits to altered conditions of life. We have a good illustration of this in Moctzlo leporinus, a bat which is widely distributed in Central and South America and the West Indies, and which, although stated by a good authority to be a member of the fruit-eating group of bats, belongs, in fact, to the insectivorous sub-order, as appears by the characteristic dentition and other 236 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST peculiarities above referred to. Linnzeus described it as “victitans fructibus arborum,” and in the intestines of specimens received from British Guiana Mr G. E. Dobson found some seeds of fruit, apparently Morus ¢ténctoria. On the other hand, Von Tschudi, writing of its habits as observed in Peru, remarked that it lives in hollow trees and ‘‘feeds upon beetles, which we always found in their stomachs.” Its insectivorous habits have also been noted in Brazil by Prince Maximilian Wied Neuwied, and in Jamacia by the late P. H. Gosse, who, having procured some live specimens from a hollow cotton tree, found that they fed eagerly on cockroaches. He says :— “T presented to one a large cockroach, which he seized greedily and munched up, moving the jaws only vertically. The eating was attended with a loud and very harsh crunching of the teeth, not produced by crushing the horny parts of the insect, for it was equally perceptible when munching a bit of soft flesh, The jaws moved rapidly, but yet the mastication was a long opera- tion, for it appeared to me to be performed almost wholly by the canines. As the insect was pro- gressively masticated, portions were allowed to fall into the cheek pouches (the one being pretty well filled before the other was used), which when full hung down on each side of the lower jaw, like distended bags, displaying a warted surface. When the whole of one cockroach had been masticated, and deposited in the pouches, it would take another, which was gradually disposed of in the same recep- FISH-EATING BATS 237 tacles ; then after a few moments’ intermission, by a contortion of the jaw, aided by the motion of the muscles of the pouch, a portion was returned to the mouth and again masticated. This was repeated till all was swallowed, and the pouches appeared empty and contracted up out of sight.” A more curious observation in regard to this same species of bat was made by the late Mr Fraser in Ecuador. He watched it skimming the bank of the river at Esmeraldas, every now and then making a dash along and actually striking the water, catching the minute shrimps as they passed up stream. The specimens of this bat which he secured were found to havea very offensive fishy smell. But the most remarkable statement respecting the food and habits of Moctzlio leporinus comes to us from Trinidad, where it is asserted that this species is common in caves upon the islands of the Bocas (or Straits), and preys upon the small fry of fish, which it catches by dashing down suddenly on the appearance of a shoal upon the surface of the water. The story is not new, having been told by the late Charles Kingsley many years ago; but, although he saw the bats in question dashing down to the water at intervals, he missed the opportunity of satisfying himself of the object of their manceuvres, and it is only lately that conclusive proof has been obtained of the habits attributed to them by residents in Trinidad. In his delightful volume, 4¢ Last: a Chistmas tn the West Indies, which was published in 1871, and 238 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST which is only marred by the want of an index, the author says :— ‘Early in January I started on an expedition to the islands of the Bocas. Our object was two- fold: to see tropical coast scenery and to get, if possible, some Guacharo birds (pronounced Huacharo), known also in the West Indies as Diablotin, and to ornithologists more familiarly as the oil bird (Steatornis caripensts). Our chance of getting them depended on the sea being calm outside the Bocas as well as inside (i., p. 181). The first islands which we made—the Five Islands as they are called—are curious enough. Isolated remnants of limestone, the biggest perhaps 100 yards long by too feet high, channelled and honey- combed into strange shapes by rain and waves (i., p. 182). As it grew dark, dark things came trooping over the sea, by twos and threes, then twenty at a time, all passed us towards a cave near by. Birds we fancied them at first, of the colour and size of starlings; but they proved to be bats, and bats too which have the reputation of catching fish. So goes the tale, believed by some who see them continually and have a keen eye for nature, and who say that the bat sweeps the fish up off the top of the water with the scoop-like membrane of his hindlegs and tail. For this last fact I will not vouch, but I am assured that fish scales were found after I left the island in the stomachs of these bats, and that of the fact of their picking up small fish there can be no doubt. You could not, says a friend, be out at night in a boat and hear their FISH-EATING BATS 239 continued swish, swish, in the water without believing it. Ifso, the habit is a quaint change of nature in them, for they belong, I am assured by my friend Professor Newton, not to the insect- eating but to the fruit-eating family of bats,? which in the West as in the East Indies may be seen at night hovering round the mango trees and destroy- ing much more fruit than they eat.” The story was revived in 7he Fvedd of July 14, 1888, by Dr G. H. Kingsley, who had also visited Trinidad during the cruise of the Morthuméria, and who, like his brother, had watched the move- ments of the bats in question, and listened to the statements of the natives concerning them. With a praiseworthy desire to ascertain the truth of the alleged fishing propensities, he floated about on many a hot evening to see how it was done; but though he was close to them—close enough to be nauseated by their detestable odour—he could never quite make up his mind on the subject. On the whole, he was inclined to accept the native idea that they scoop them off the surface with the interfemoral membrane; and he concludes: ‘‘ However it was done, they certainly did catch fish, and eat them, for I found fish scales and bones in their stomachs, and had microscopical slides prepared to prove it.” Here, at last, was something definite to go upon; and a letter addressed to Dr Kingsley 1 This is a misapprehension, based possibly on what has been stated by Linnzeus in regard to its food, as already quoted. There are no representatives of the fruit-eating Preropodide in America. 240 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST speedily procured for me a sight of a stuffed speci- men of the bat (whose species, until then, had not been named) and a slide containing a small portion of the contents of the stomach. These I exhibited at a meeting of the Linnean Society on November 15, 1888, and briefly called attention to the facts of the case. But, alas! the microscope revealed nothing that, in the eyes of such experts as Dr Giinther and Dr F. Day, could be stated positively to appertain to fish; and it seemed more likely that certain minute iridiscent particles, which were at first supposed by Dr Kingsley to be fragments of fish scales, were portions of the shining wing-cases of coleopterous insects. There seemed nothing for it, therefore, but to procure some freshly killed specimens of this bat in alcohol, and to examine carefully the nature of the entire contents of the stomachs. This, through the kindness of His Excellency Sir William Robinson, the Governor of Trinidad, I was enabled to do ; for, acting upon his instructions, Professor M‘Carthy, of the Government Laboratory at St Anne’s, was good enough to forward to me three separate con- signments of specimens, together with some micro- scopical slides of his own preparation, the examina- tion of which has resulted in placing beyond all doubt the fact that in Trinidad Moctzlio leporinus does habitually prey upon small fish. These specimens were exhibited by me at a meeting of the Linnean Society on February 21, 1889. Inthree separate reports which accompanied the specimens sent to me at intervals during the spring of that FISH-EATING BATS 241 year, Professor M‘Carthy detailed the result of his own observations of the living animals, and his examination of some of the specimens he procured. The following extracts are especially interesting :— ‘“On December 29 I proceeded to Monos, and at 9 p.m. visited a cave on the east side of the island CCAM fF AM ry ga) i h HE S HEAD OF NOCTILIO LEPORINUS. (Twice the Natural Size.) on the first Boca. This cave is in a soft shale formation, and the top of the opening is about 7 feet from the water at full tide. The bats were then in an active state, and the majority appeared to be flying homewards. There were few fish near the surface of the water, and comparatively little local fishing appeared to be going on. An occasional ‘gwish’ now and again far out proved that the bats Q 242 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST were trying to secure their prey. Five homeward- bound specimens were secured in the cave about twelve yards from the mouth. The stomach of one specimen, opened within half an hour, contained much fish in a finely divided and partially digested state... . On the morning of the 31st I visited the cave from which the specimens were procured at 3.a.m., and found that the bats had apparently forgotten the previous disturbance. They came flying in in dozens, and two specimens were secured. Both contained considerable quantities of fish. . . . I have opened several other specimens of the bats, and in the majority of cases fish scales were found ; but the stomachs of two were perfectly empty. This might be attributed to the absence of the desired fish in the locality ” [or to the fact that they were shot before they had had time to catch any]. Referring to the mode in which the bats capture the fish, Professor M‘Carthy says :— “My opinion, from what I have ascertained {though I have not actually seex the operation, I have eard it) is, that the bats skim the surface, peering at the same time into the water below. As soon as fish are observed the interfemoral membrane is let down, and occasions the ‘swish’ so frequently heard. At this time the fish is secured by the claws immersed in the water, and is possibly raised with the assistance of the membrane, and so held until the mouth is reached down below the body, and the fry devoured. I am inclined to attach more import- ance to the use of the membrane as a means of coming to a sudden stop, than as a lifting medium, FISH-EATING BATS 243 which may possibly be done or assisted by the wings. It is believed that the fish are sometimes lifted out by the membrane alone being employed as an impervious net.” In a subsequent report he says :— “On January 15 I went in an open boat by Carenage to the Five Islands, and crossed to Point Gourd. ... I remained the night in the locality, and ob- served bats continually. Some partially dived for fish within fifteen yards of the boat, but this was before we commenced to try and shoot them. I see Foor or yoorm terormvs. no reason to change the opinion celia expressed in my previous report respecting the manner in which the fish is secured, and subse- quently disposed of. There is no doubt but that the immersion of the interfemoral membrane and the securing of the fish are simultaneous move- ments.” After some further remarks, he concludes :— “A microscopic examination of some of the excrement, collected in the caves frequented by these bats, proved the presence of chitin from a beetle’s leg and scales from the wing of a butterfly. This would tend to show that when fish food is scarce (or unprocurable) the bats can accommodate themselves to insect food.” After this circumstantial account by Professor M ‘Carthy, confirmatory as it is of all that had been previously stated by Messrs Kingsley, it is impossible 244 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST to withhold credence to this very curious story ; but if further testimony be needed, I have only to add that the contents of the stomachs which I removed fromthe specimens received from Professor M‘Carthy were carefully examined by Professor Stewart, of the Royal College of Surgeons, who recognised fish scales and fin rays, while one of the prepared slides shows very distinctly the lower jaw with the teeth of some small fish. The late Professor G. B. Howes reported that, of two specimens examined by him, the stomach and intestine of one were empty, and that the intestine of the other yielded muscular fibre, and some finely divided organic matter. The feeces were remarkable for their oily nature, the whole field of the microscope being studded with oil globules in varying stages of emulsification. The muscular fibre was little digested, and laden with fat in the manner well known for fishes. That the dentition of Moctzlio leporinus is not unsuited to a fish diet may be inferred from the figure here given of the skull, with distended jaws, drawn twice the natural size in order to exhibit the teeth more clearly, while it may well be supposed that a bat which could so easily crunch up cock- roaches, as observed by Mr Gosse, would find no- difficulty in disposing of the softer bodies of delicate fish fry. The dental formula, as may be inferred from the sketch, is :— L— 1 Incisors, * ; canines, 2 I—I ; premolars, —" ; molars, 3—3. 2—2 oa The stomach, which is littlhe more than a sac- FISH-EATING BATS 245 like distention of the intestine, would certainly be capable of receiving without injury the finely comminuted portions of fish swallowed after the elaborate process of mastication described by Mr Gosse. The large and powerful hind foot above figured might well perform the office attributed to it in seizing the fish, either with or without the assistance of the inter- femoral membrane. To give some idea of the size of this Bat, it may be observed that the length, from tip of nose to the end of the extended interfemoral membrane, is 54 in.; the length of head and SKULL OF NOCTILIO LEPORINUS. body only, 4t in.; length (Twice the Natural Size.) of fore-arm, 34 in.; the hind foot, 1 in.; and the expanse of wing, 16in. The general colour | should describe as orange tawny. In conclusion, it may be remarked that octzlio leporinus is not the only species of bat which has been reported to catch fish. So long ago as 1863 Dr J. Shortt, in a communication to the Zoological Society, dated “‘Chingleput, June 12, 1863,” reported his having witnessed on two cccasions at Conleeveram during the previous April the fishing propensities of the Pteropus of India, which he named P. edulis, but which was doubtless P. medius, the only species of this genus which is known to inhabit the peninsula of India. 246 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST On the occasion referred to, he says (Proc. Zool. Soc., 1863, p. 439): “I got my assistant, Mr Watson, to bring his gun, and shoot some, so that I might satisfy myself of the identity of these animals. Mr Watson shot some two or three, whilst in the act of seizing (as he supposed) their finny prey, and on examination I found them to be actually ‘ flying foxes.’ During a second visit on the 5th and 6th of June, I observed the same thing occur again.” Blanford, who has figured the skull of Pteropus medius,* agrees with Jerdon in thinking that the habit with this species of skimming over water in the evening has been mistaken for fishing. He has no doubt it is for the purpose of sipping the water, and this is also the opinion of Col. Tickell, who has published a good account of its habits in the third volume of the Calcutta Journal of Natural History. This peculiarity is not confined to the Preropodide. I have observed it in some of our British Bats. 1 Fauna of British India (Mammals), p. 256. NATURE STUDIES IN JAPANESE ART Ir is impossible to examine the work of Japanese artists without being struck by the wonderful appreciation of Nature which they everywhere display. No one who possesses any knowledge of animals or plants can have failed to remark how truthfully a great variety of forms are depicted, and how skilfully the native artist borrows from Nature all that is most expressive in action, elegant in outline, and beautiful in colour. Hence in the representation of flowers, foliage, and birds, for decorative purposes, the Japanese have no rivals. The flowers most commonly met with in Japanese art are the Chrysanthemum, Peony, Wistaria, Iris, Lily, Hydrangea, Carnation, Convolvulus, and Water-lily; but several other flowers indigenous to Japan are used for ornamen- tation in combination with the above. The Hydrangea, Convolvulus, and Water-lily are very often depicted on works of lacquer and porcelain, the Convolvulus, from its creeping habit, being an especial favourite in free design. The trees most frequently met with are the Kiri (Paulownia imperialts, Siebold), Plum, Fir, and Palm, the flowers of the Plum being special favourites in ornamentation. Reeds, creeping 247 248 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST plants, and grasses of all descriptions are favourites with the Japanese artist ; and in the first class the stately Bamboo holds the most prominent position, on account of its almost universal utility and the symbolic value attached to it; for, like the Fir, it is regarded as the symbol of longevity on account of its generally-supposed long existence. Kempfer was informed that it will grow for centuries, and, in support of that statement, was shown specimens which had reached the most extraordinary dimen- sions, Next to vegetation, the artists of Japan are most skilled in the representation of birds; and they appear to have an equal love for depicting them either alone or in combination with foliage. The natural habits of birds supply an inexhaustible source of study, and one may observe everywhere in the work of these artists how painstaking they are in its prosecution, by the care and accuracy with which characteristic positions are rendered. It is chiefly in their pottery, lacquer, illustrated books, and original drawings that we find the best specimens of their skill in this department, although some choice examples are to be met with in metal work and in ivory carvings. Let the material, however, be what it may, wherever there is a bird depicted there is room for study, and cause for admiration. The birds most frequently represented, and consequently the most carefully studied by Japanese artists, are the Crane, tame and wild ducks, Wild- goose, Peacock, Pheasant, Raven, Goshawk, A JAPANESE CRANE, 250 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST Falcon, ordinary domestic fowls, and several of the smaller birds common to the country. The Crane (Zsuvu), according to Kempfer, is. the chief of the wild birds in Japan, and has the peculiar Imperial privilege that nobody can shoot it without an express order from the Emperor, and only for the Emperor’s own pleasure or use. It is held in a sort of semi-veneration by all classes of the community in Japan, and is, on account of its supposed long life, very generally accepted as an emblem of longevity. For these reasons it is one of the greatest favourites with the artists of the country, and is introduced in ornamentation throughout the entire range of their arts. It is treated in countless ways; it is, indeed, impossible to imagine any position the living bird could assume which is not depicted by the Japanese artist; and it would be difficult to find anything more artistic, from a decorative point of view, than their manner of treating it in these varied positions. A remarkable fact in connection with the Crane is that the Japanese avoid representing it as dead. Messrs Audsley and Bowes, in their beautiful work, The Keramic Art of Japan, state that, during many years’ study of Japanese art work, they do not remember to have once seen a representation of a dead Crane. This, they observe, may be satisfactorily accounted for by the symbolic value attached to the bird, for a dead Crane would scarcely be an expressive emblem of longevity. In lacquer work Cranes are very often introduced in the ornamentation, and are exquisitely manipu- STUDIES IN JAPANESE ART 251 lated in gold and coloured lacquers, or carved in ivory or mother-of-pearl, and attached to the surface.’ In metal work also this bird is frequently met with either cast in bronze, or wrought in the precious metals, relieved in the coloured portions with other metals or alloys. Again, we may often see Cranes very skilfully embroidered in fine twisted silk, with every important feather very beautifully and accurately wrought. When the birds are drawn in upward flight, they are usually surrounded with conventional clouds, giving the idea of space ; when they are shown in downward flight, a few tops of trees appear at the bottom of the picture, graphically indicating their near approach to earth. A law existed in Japan, and is believed to be still observed, that no firearms should be used within a radius of thirty miles from the Imperial palace. This encouraged to a great extent the sport of falconry, and consequently the taste for depicting its scenes. Captain Blakiston, who has paid much attention to the birds of Japan, states that the Goshawk is the bird most used by the 1 One of the most striking examples of this kind of work I saw in the Japanese Court at the Paris Exhibition of 1889. It was a very beautiful folding screen of lacquer inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl, on which was a spirited representation of crane-hawking with white falcons. On one side a Crane, struck down by a Falcon, was lying with extended wings in the act of being seized by the hawk. The former bird was of ivory in alto- relief, the latter of mother-of-pearl. The workmanship was marvellous; every one of the primary feathers, quill and web, being exquisitely carved. Indeed I have never seen anything of the kind at all comparable to the extended left wing of that Crane. 252 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST Japanese for hawking—a sport which was much practised in feudal times, but is little kept up now. To the cause of this decline I have adverted in an article on ‘“‘ Hawking in Japan,” which appeared in The Field of October 18, 1879. The screens which the Japanese so commonly use in their dwellings as temporary partitions, like the notable example above-mentioned, and their indispensable fans, are frequently painted with sporting scenes ; while many books entirely devoted to falconry are printed, in which quaint yet charm- ing woodcuts are to be found. Both in hand- paintings and woodcuts we find repeated evidence of skill in bird drawing, with every conceivable position and action of the hawk and its quarry delineated. Falcons (Zaka) and Eagles ( Washz), according to Messrs Audsley and Bowes, do not appear on works of ceramic art or lacquer so frequently as Cranes and some other birds, but when they are represented, they quite sustain the credit of the Japanese artist. Pheasants (477z) are great favourites, and are very often introduced in ornamentation. Ducks of several kinds are portrayed, an especial favourite for its beautiful colours being the Mandarin Duck (Osht kamo). The drake and duck of this remarkable species, when represented together, are accepted by the Japanese as the emblem of conjugal felicity. The Wigeon, which is very common in Japan in winter, we may often see well depicted. The Peacock (Awjaku) appears as a decoration in all materials, and is commonly portrayed on STUDIES IN JAPANESE ART 253 pottery and porcelain, being drawn in blue by the Hizen artists, and in brilliant colours by those of Satsuma. The Peacock is not a native of Japan, but of India, whence it was transported eastward into China, and eventually into Japan.t The Wild-goose (Gaz) is very skilfully treated by Japanese artists, and, like the Crane, is depicted in a variety of attitudes. Representations of ordinary domestic fowls are frequently to be met with, and are usually drawn with great accuracy. Cocks are commonly kept in Temple grounds, where they are carefully attended to by the priests and others, because they foretell changes in the weather, and by the regularity of their crowing mark the passage of time. This no doubt, as suggested by Messrs Audsley and Bowes, accounts for the frequent representation of the cock perched on the top of a Temple drum. These are some of the more important birds commonly to be met with in Japanese works of art. Amongst the smaller birds easily identified are the Coal Titmouse, the Long-tailed Titmouse, the Redstart (Audzczlla aurorea, Pallas), the Tree Sparrow (Passer montanus, Linn.), which is the domestic sparrow of Japan and China, the sexes being alike in plumage; and the Bullfinch (Pyrrhula orientalis, Temm. and Schleg.), which is much valued by the Japanese asa cage-bird. With such fidelity to nature are all these depicted, that there is no mistaking the species intended. 1See the article “Peacock” in Hehn’s Wanderings of Plants and Animals from their first home, 1885, p. 263. THE TREE SPARROW. STUDIES IN JAPANESE ART 255 Of all natural objects quadrupeds are less fre- quently represented. This is probably due to the fact that wild animals are not numerous in Japan, and the artists have seldom any favourable op- portunities for actual study of them from the life. Of all quadrupeds, perhaps the Horse is most frequently depicted, and often with great skill and knowledge of foreshortening. Other animals re- presented with much artistic power in carvings and metal work are Oxen, Deer, Bears, Dogs, Cats, and Rats; while in humorous ivory carvings no animal is so frequently met with as the Monkey or Ape, which especially lends itself to the treatment of the grotesque. Of Fishes and Crustacea the Japanese seas yield a great variety, many of them remarkable for their brilliant colouring ; and these are everywhere to be met with in Japanese art work, depicted with considerable skill. A favourite subject is a Carp in the act of ascending a waterfall ; and in grotesque carvings the Octopus, or Devil-fish, is often very cleverly introduced. Shells are great favourites in ornamentation, particularly in that of lacquer work, where, executed in richly raised gold and tinted lacs, they produce very pleasing effects. Coral and seaweed are likewise introduced, sometimes along with shells, at other times alone, but always with marked success, Both Reptiles and Insects are pressed into the service of the artificer, and are truthfully re- presented wherever they are introduced. Insects, indeed, are almost as frequently figured as birds A JAPANESE DRAGONFLY. STUDIES IN JAPANESE ART 257 and fishes. They are wrought in coloured materials upon such objects as ivory boxes, fan handles, buttons, and the like, carved with the utmost fidelity in ne¢swke, sculptured and inlaid in bronzes, painted on fans, screens, and all articles of porce- lain, faience, and lacquer. I should like to have been able to give here the figure of a beautiful bronze in my possession of an Eagle with outstretched wings, by a Japanese artist. The modeller had evidently made a study from Nature, and the fidelity with which the extended wing feathers have been copied in metal is very remarkable. There is perhaps nothing which astonishes the student of Japanese art so much as the immense variety which it presents in the treatment of natural objects. This, say the authors of the work above quoted, is to be accounted for by the fact that each work is the result of individual genius. Manu- factories, in our sense of the word, may be said to have been unknown in the best days of the empire ; each and every artist or artisan worked out his own inspirations according to his own ideas, and in his own way. Hence it is that we find in almost every thing which has come from Japan so much variety and originality. BIRDS AND LIGHTHOUSES A SINGULAR incident of bird life, of which most people have read, but few perhaps have personally witnessed, is the attraction which lighthouses present to many species of migratory birds when passing to and fro upon their periodical migrations. Those whose business and occupation it is to dwell in the lighthouses and tend the lamps to save our vessels from destruction, tell us that at certain seasons of the year vast flocks of birds are seen making for the land, and numbers of them, impelled by some strange infatuation, dash wildly against the lantern, and often perish from the concussion. Out in the North Sea, Heligoland lies right in the track of all the migratory birds which pass to and from the east and north-east of Europe. This, to ornithologists, is a famous post of observation ; and through the agency of an excellent naturalist resident there, Herr Gatke, some curious statistics on migration have been collected. Mr H. Seebohm, who made a short stay on this island, has graphically described what he witnessed on visiting the light- house there one night in October, just as the autumnal migration had commenced. He says :— “At half-past twelve I was awoke with the news that the migration had already begun. Hastily 258 BIRDS AND LIGHTHOUSES 259 dressing myself, I at once made for the lighthouse. The night was almost pitch dark, but the town was all astir. In every street men, with long lanterns, and a sort of angler’s landing-net, were making for the lighthouse. Arrived there, an intensely inter- esting sight presented itself. ‘The whole of the zone of light, within range of the mirrors, was alive with birds coming and going. Nothing else was visible in the darkness of the night but the lantern of the lighthouse vignetted in a drifting sea of birds. From the darkness in the east clouds of birds were continually emerging in an uninterrupted stream ; a few swerved from their course, fluttered for a moment as if dazzled by the light, and then gradually vanished with the rest inthe western gloom. Occasionally a bird wheeled round the lighthouse, and then passed on; and occasionally one fluttered against the glass, like a moth against a lamp, tried to perch on the wire- netting, and was caught by the lighthouse man. I should be afraid to hazard a guess as to the hundreds of thousands that must have passed in a couple of hours; but the stray birds, which the lighthouse men succeeded in securing, amounted to nearly three hundred. The scene from the balcony of the lighthouse was equally interesting ; in every direction birds were flying like a swarm of bees, and every few seconds one flew against the glass. All the birds seemed to be flying uf wud, and it was only on the lee side that any were caught ; they were nearly all Skylarks. Inthe heap captured was one Redstart and one Reed Bunting. The air 260 RECREATIONS OF A NATURALIST was filled with the warbling cry of the Larks ; now and then a Thrush was heard; and once a Heron screamed as it passed by. The night was starless, and the town was invisible; but the island looked like the outskirts of a gas-lighted city, being sprinkled over with brilliant lanterns. Many of the Larks alighted on the ground to rest, and allowed the Heligolanders to pass their nets over them. About 3 a.m. a heavy thunderstorm came on, with deluges of rain ; a few breaks in the clouds revealed the stars, and the migration came to an end, or continued above the range of our vision.” * In giving similar testimony to the effect so graphically described by Mr Seebohm, the light- house-keepers on our own shores confirm what has been known almost since the world began (for do we not read in Scripture that birds ‘have their appointed seasons” ?) and state that the coming and going of certain species at particular periods of the year may be looked for and observed with singular regularity. This remarkable habit is termed ‘ migration,” and notwithstanding that few natural phenomena are more familiar, none perhaps still remains so shrouded in mystery. The migration of birds has attracted the attention of observers in all ages and of all nations, yet few questions in ornithology are more difficult of solution than the problem ‘‘Why and how do birds migrate?” what innate force impels them seasonally in a particular direction? and how do they find their way? Before attempting to suggest answers to 1 Siberia in Europe, p. 256. eI = eS a Z 5 = a < a o A a %, 5 a RQ 5 ° iss a ir o is 4