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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
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etc., etc. With 4 Maps, 2 Coloured Plates, and
many Illustrations. 2 vols. Small Royal 8vo, cloth.
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THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF LIVING
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of the Principles and Practice of Medicine, and of
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With 76 Plates. Medium 8vo, cloth. 12s. 6d. net.
THE AGE OF THE EARTH, AND OTHER
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HOW TO KNOW THE STARRY HEAVENS.
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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.
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