A BOY'S NATURE DIARY

FEB. 22nd. Went to H.P. by myself and arrived at 3 o'clock. Saw woodmen clearing paths. The one that told me about the sparrow-hawk's nest last August, told me that he had seen two young tawny owls sitting on old ash tree near stack two months ago. This seems to me to be unusual. Tawny owls nesting in early January! Still, the abundance of field mice and voles and the mildness of the weather doubtless account for this. (I have examined scores of cast-up "pellets" both of the barn and tawny owls and they contain the bones and fur of house and field mice, shortailed field voles, and young rat. Occasionally I have found evidence of sparrows being eaten). This proves to me that (at least in Holwood Park) it would be criminal to destroy owl; as "gamekeepers' vermin." I visited the old ash tree and saw much evidence of young owls being there within the last week!

Where can they nest?

I saw a few young lambs in the "Forest corral." Met Arthur there with his half-blind dog, tied up to fence (the dog was).

Saw kestrel hovering high up over "Sparrowhawk Spinney." It hovered for at least 30 seconds, then dropped like a plummet. Heard male chaffinchs singing their nesting song. It sounds like "wi-oc wi-oo, wi-oo, wi-oo, wi-oo, tit-wioo" (said rather fast.) However, the chaffinches are still flocking.

Woodpigeons are now pairing. In fact I saw one pair going through nesting ceremony. The male perched perfectly still near ivy-clad fork of tree, while hen slowly crept along the horizontal bough on which they were standing; and then she made a pretence of sitting on eggs in nest (non-existent) for about a minute. Then she crept slowly back to where the male was, and they both flew away. I saw this at the corner of "Terence's hunting ground." Also rooks breaking off sticks on top of high trees for their nests. This seemed to me to be very unusual.

I felt very happy to-day, and thrilled with joy at the thought of all the happiness in store for me. I know now what the true nature lover's thrill of pure ecstasy is! Not the desire of empty eggshells, as W.'s hobby is, but a few gazed on shells (in the future) reminiscent of happy days. I may in the future take up this wagtail's egg. As I gaze on it with misty eyes, I am transported to a past incident. How well I remember getting it, sitting under the hay-shed of the Farm, eating our homely sandwiches! How B. watched the "Dishwasher" carefully, while the more impulsive and restless Williamson was swinging on the rustic swing put up for the farmhands' daughters. How we both watched it fluttering near the green creeper on the loose-chalk cliff face, and then saw it disappear inside! The frantic haste with which we hoisted the ladder, and scrambled up!! Then the six eggs in beautiful nest, all freshly laid!!! The careful selection of one for a "reminiscence and the other five left alone*, and afterwards how we watched the mature young birds hatch, and gradually drift of, to fend for themselves, at the end of summer. Oh, the sadness one experiences as one recalls all this, also the happiness! For as the autumn draws nigh, the leaves wither and fall, and, as the trees appear to die, so our "expeditions" die out. '

Feb. 24th. Many times yesterday and early this: morning I watched the birds in the garden. I frequently saw blue- and great-tits hanging on bone, and: a robin frequently came and drove the blue-tits away.:. He often hung after their manner upside down,-pecking. He drove them away from food on ground, although there was enough to fill a dozen robins.

The old starling outside my top box continues to be very amusing. He will take his stand (or perch?) outside the box, flutter and flap his wings, and call in a cracked, wheezy voice to nobody in particular, but, every hen starling in general. Whenever one came near, he went on frenziedly calling and shrieking to her to come, doubtless, and inspect the nice home he had.

I also saw the old villain this morning fly to the flower-bed, and pull off the head of one of the wallflowers, and hammer it against a piece of rockery. This will help to get Mr. Starling the bullet if he does not mend his ways..

Yesterday I put up a new box for a small pair of tits in the tree. I covered it with bark.

*This entry of twenty years ago is not truthful. In fact, there was an accident, and the five eggs, hard-set, were smashed by falling fragments of chalk.

Feb. 26th. Went to H. P. by myself. Met W. going there, at half a mile from crossroads. Heard male great-tits singing nesting song. ..

Saw men making new fence. One that told me that he had seen young tawny owls in January, told me, after much conversation, that one of the "young ones" had been caught in a rabbit trap! Now, of course, I had that owl, and have skinned it. I think it is probable that the small Athena noctua owls were mistaken for young tawny owls. Of course these woodmen have practically no experience in stray foreign birds that find their way somehow into England.

However, it is quite possible that young tawny owls were seen at that time as well.

We found several small pellets scattered here and there, wholly composed of pieces of grey-coloured fur, and bits of big bone broken up mixed up in them. It looked as though a fox had, with his powerful jaws, smashed rabbits' bones up with his teeth.

W. found a pellet under a beech tree. It was not like an ordinary Barn Owl's pellet, but was broken up, and was very dry. It contained two birds' legs and claws besides mice's fur. All the flesh was dissolved off the feet pads, and half of the horn claws was dissolved. I should think that there is a terrible dissolving liquid in the owl's crop, to so mangle and emaciate the legs so I think it was a tawny owl's pellet.

March 1st. I went in the afternoon to a place near to the awful hill where Tom and I rushed down on our cycles 3 years ago, at 40-60 m.p.h. I went with Terence. We had a very strong head-wind against us. We frequently saw large flocks of plovers in the green meadows. They ran about on the ground very fast, and suddenly digging their beak into the ground, ran away again. I saw 4 or 5 flocks, each of a thousand, I should think.

Some more birds, flying in a large flock, were feeding in the ploughed fields. I do not know what they were. They had wings arched somewhat like a swallow (bent like a heron's are) and flew very fast. They were about 10 inches long, and about 14 broad. Fawn brown colour, no spots on breast.

There are two ponds where we can fish in Squerryes Park, but they are only the coarse fishponds. We were told that we could fish from now to about April, and then from June onwards.

There were roach, jack, perch, and an occasional trout. There were many more ponds (or rather lakes) that stretched all through the place. Each was in area about half an acre. We were told that they contained trout, but we could not fish there. In the tiny brook that connects the lakes, we found a woodpigeon dead on the stones. (The stream runs through a ripping beech wood.) Nearly all the feathers on the back were struck off, and on the bare visible patch we saw the deep marks of talons. The bird's head had been gouged off, and one side of its breast mangled. Doubtless the work of a sparrowhawk. In some of the old beech trees we saw perhaps a dozen nesting holes of woodpeckers in each rotten tree; nesting holes of all three kinds of woodpeckers.

Saw many rabbits scuttling away through the wood. We saw many enormous warrens.

Wild ducks frequently flew away from the lakes and the stream as we surprised them. They flew away with neck stretched out, crying out their curious quacking noise. We heard their wings whistle, although the birds were high up. We saw one of the keeper's vermin poles. It contained crows, jays, a weazel, several rats, etc., all in various stages of decomposition, from about two years old to a few days. I am sorry to say that this keeper classes the beautiful kestrel among his vermin. I saw the remains of one there about 18 months old. Bagged one of its feet and some feathers.

We passed several old ruined mills along the course of the river Darenth. I should think that several Barn Owls may like these places.

As we were riding back, we saw a pair of pigeons flying very high. Terence had a bad accident by riding into an old woman in the dark. He broke the jar of pickles she was carrying. She cried, and he bought her another in the shop. It was his 14th birthday, and he had 2S. 6d. on him. He bought a pound of biscuits also, and like a decent chap insisted on giving me half a pound.

March 6th. To-day I saw the blue-tits inspecting my little box on the tree. I climbed up to the starling's box, and saw it filled with wallflower leaves and flowers. He frequently goes right in the box now. This is very curious.

March 12th. Beautiful spring-like day. The buds in the elms are bursting into leaf.

This morning I watched the birds on my tree. The starling in the top box appears to have a mate now, and they both go in and out very excitedly. I saw them inspecting the lower box to-day. One jumped on it as though it was a trap, immediately springing off again as though he was still afraid of it. I saw the blue-tits going in and out of the smaller box several times. Another pair appear to be selecting a nesting site, as I saw them hopping about near it. I intend to put up a natural box soon, and, if all goes well, I hope to have five families in my tree in the spring.

March 19th. Went with W. to Monks Orchard. There was a very strong head wind against us going there. Saw the lakes, which are truly good ones. Three of them, one running into the other. Saw a moorhen dive near the edge of the third pond, but did not see it reappear. We were told that the ponds contained pike, but not many other fish. No wonder too!

Went on afterwards by myself to H. Park. Saw many birds, including real old English pheasant, blue neck, no white ring round its neck. Saw funny kind of tit. About as big as great-tit, but large black "cap" on head, with no ..white cheeks, and, from what I could see in the hasty glance, the rest of the body was grey-brown in colour.

Saw Kestrel hovering, With head to wind, on the common. But it had absolutely tail! Arrived home at 6 o'clock.

March 2Ist. I am staying with Charlie. With Charlie's gun, and his double-charge shot, I got several sparrows and chaffinches. I had several shots at a pair of tits, but missed after three or four shots.

Very funny. I am glad now that they escaped. The chaffinches flew in large flocks. The male and female flocks being separate. Coelebs—the bachelor. The best shot of the day, it was agreed, was a shot at a cock-sparrow on a chimney stack 35 yards off. It got him in the head and neck.

Raining in afternoon. Had several shots at a bat in the evening, but could not hit the creature.

March 22nd. Terrible storm in afternoon. Gale, accompanied by thunder-storm for an hour in the afternoon. In the morning Charlie and I walked to Woburn to get fifty more single-charge cartridges. We went over the footpath over the Duke's moors.<. Saw several pairs of snipe fly up, with funny zig-zag flight, uttering a peculiar cry, which sounded something like "tjick, tjick."

Saw many pheasants, hares, rabbits, and wild ducks in the rushes round about the brook.

Saw a single lapwing feeding.

We watched a blue-tit feeding near an old lamp-post in Woburn, and then it disappeared inside it!

As we wend our way home across the old familiar; paths of boyhood days, when we eagerly sought "blackies' and thrushes eggs in the hedges, and as Charlie pointed out the old place where, lads of ten, we found a partridge's nest, the old scene comes back again. The awe with which the eggs were left alone, and the awful fine of "five pounds each egg!"

Another familiar sight, on the path over the wheatfield.

On the lee-side of hedge, under a leafless oak, a small boy sits. A tiny fire, cunningly built up with dry tree-roots, smoulders at his feet. "Grub" is in an old haversack: a big bottle of cold-tea at its side.

As we approach, he gets up, seizes an old pair of noisy wooden clappers, and shouts, apparently to a black speck in the distance, feeding in the furrows, "Hullooo—a, hull—oo—a" meanwhile clapping vigorously. 'Tis a "crow-starver," paid from 4s. to 7s. a week to drive off rooks and crows from the sprouting corn. We wonder if this child, scarcely 12, we should imagine, of the wilds has ever baked moor-hens' eggs in his fire? We ourselves remember how, six years back, in the small fir-copse, scarcely a quarter of an acre, in the middle of the cornfield here, we caught two young rabbits crouching in the grass, and how we cooked them on a similar small fire!

How we also "bagged" a wild-duck's egg each from the moors, and cooked them.

A terrible storm in the afternoon. Six "mollerns" passed overhead at Woburn Sands (herons) just before it.

March 23rd. Very fine day to-day. Shot a male coletit in the morning, besides several others, on the way to church. Went in afternoon to Duke of Bedford's Park at Woburn: saw many strange birds, including a pair of gannets. Saw thousands of deer. Saw silver pheasants and ordinary varieties, etc.

March 24th. Shot the female cole-tit to-day. Now have the pair. Saw a fine pair of kestrels over ploughed field. Large, long-winged birds.

Ambushed myself among the grass and fir-trees at the back of the garden, in the small spinney, and waited for a shot.

In front, a row of cabbages, extending for about twenty yards in the ploughed field. Nothing is seen.

After a few minutes the silence is broken by "chee-' chee, chee-chee" oft repeated. Cautiously peering up, I see a minute blue-tit swinging on the slender twigs of a small larch tree. He is not more than four feet above my head, and yet he appears to be quite fearless. The slight movement I make in looking up does not escape his notice, yet he does not fly away. His tiny little head looks down at me, his beady black eyes watching me. Almost at once, however, he resumes his "hunting," uttering a series of sweet "chee, chees," until his mate joins him.

Silently I resume my watching of the ploughed field.

With a beat of many wings, a flock of male "chaffbobs" settle down, fully sixty feet off.

I wait till they get closer together, then bang! goes a No. 2 cartridge.

The spoil is three beautiful male chaffbobs. Two minutes later a mole appears ('tis evening) in the earth, and bang! he is added to our list of spoil. Found two thrushes' nests, each 4 eggs.

March 25th. Came back to school. S. has got several, decent rooks eggs in the holidays. Skinned the cole tits and cured the skins with my patent curing compound.

March 26th. Agreed to go with S. to the trees to-night, with D. We three met by the workhouse, at the back of which stand some very high elms. After creeping past a farm, and sneaking along the high red-brick boundary wall of the workhouse, we arrived at the trees.

The sun is setting. Across the dreary furrows, a quarter of a mile away, we see something standing up watching us. We retire for a few minutes, and still no one moves. The tall black figure remains motionless. At last we come to the conclusion that it is a scarecrow, and we resume operations.

D. and S. each choose a rugged elm: upon me falls the important responsibility of keeping watch below, and, if anyone comes, to run across in the ploughed field to draw them away from the climbers.

The climbers are half-way up, when suddenly many raucous voices exclaim, "Come out of it, there!" "Hi, you damned boys!" etc., etc. It is only the paupers. However, the climbers hastily come down, and we wait till all is quiet again.

'Tis dusk when they go up again.

In large circles overhead, the rooks caw and scream over our heads. The voices of the paupers are stilled. S., who looks small in the tree, reaches his nest first. Hard luck, it is empty! D. has the most difficult nest to reach. It is situated at the top of a small, slender, twigless branch. It sways terribly as he climbs higher.

At last he is up!

"Three" he calls down. Down he comes, the bag containing them held in his mouth. S. reaches another nest, but still no luck. We cut off via lane and ploughed fields.

March 28th. I think that this morning and the preceding days that I have solved the problem of the starling. I will endeavour, as best I can, to put down the events m correct chronological order.

About the first week in February this year he took his stand outside the box. Frequently he would hop, or rather squeeze inside, and come out again almost immediately.

This singing outside the box continued till about the middle of March. Then his singing became more frenzied. As a starling would fly by he would flap his wings strongly and call and wheeze as loud and t as hard as he could.

I climbed up about March 25th, and found some dead flower stalks arranged in the rough shape of a nest. But remember, he had not yet got a X mate!

I forgot to mention that I frequently saw him pulling off the heads of the wallflowers. Well, about March the 2nd I found them in the box! To-day, March 28th, I saw him pulling sticks off the tree and carrying them in the box. Once he got hold of a piece of string, and tugged at it so hard that I a thought that his neck must break. (The string was tied to the tree.) Then a female starling came and flew into the tree, and hopped near the box.

Then, strange to say, the male took no notice, in complete opposition to his usual behaviour, but continued to wrench off twigs for his nest. Then the female helped him to build. From this case I am convinced that the male builds the nest, or commences to, in order to secure a mate.

Saw a sparrow building in jessamine. [sic] Hedge variety.

March 29th. Showery day. Went with Terence and S. for a ride on one of the new yellow motorbuses.

Walked through the fields, and came to the Rookery in the fields. The trees had no lower branches, so we could not climb up. As we approached the rooks rose in a body, flying overhead in large circles, cawing loudly.

We then cut across the fields of Sir H—, and came to Pickhurst Green. Thence onwards through sodden fields to the Golf Links, thence to L. P. (where we saw several daws) and out near Monks Orchard.

Then we walked on until we finally found we had come in a great circle and were back where we started. We cut across Perry's fields to the several rookeries, and got seven rooks' eggs. S. has three, T. and myself two each. I had two beautiful and well marked specimens of eggs.

ApriI 5th. The buds on the beech trees, so late generally in bursting into leaves, are now hovering between bud life and flowerhood.

Went with Terence to H. Park. As we neared the owl oak, Terence declared he saw an owl mousing in the distance. There were signs of an owl being there recently.

As we go across the grass to the house, an old lady, a young man and woman, and a small child are perceived. Then we are hailed, "Hi, there!" etc.

We discover that it is the old Lady Derby, who speaks affably to us for a few minutes, asks questions; about our observations, etc., etc.

Then we pass on, and come to the Rookery. One: tree we single out: with at least a dozen nests in it, and easy to climb. The only thing against it is the height. Up goes Terence first, I follow.

Before we know where we are, the nests are only about 20 feet above us. Opposite me now is a dead rook sitting on an old nest: doubtless of last season's making.

Then up we go and at last reach them.

Terence calls out that there are four or five eggs in every nest he visits. The nests are huge structures made of large twigs and leaves plastered with mud, and the inside is smooth, and made of grass stalks etc., and is about as big as a whole thrush's nest.

We found blackbirds' nests, thrushes', rooks', and robins'.

Saw several new nesting boxes put up at one corner of the park.

The owl oak looks as though an owl has been there recently.

Terence saw a barn owl flying away from it as though it had just left it.

April 6th. Went in afternoon to F. G. Woods. In S.'s wood we heard the monotonous cry of the chiffchaff; this is the first of the summer visitors I have heard this year. H. showed me the stump where he found the tree-creeper's nest last year, there was a wren's nest in it, nearly built.

.As we returned, we saw several wagtails feeding on a manure heap in a field.

April 9th. Went with M. to H. Park. In the copse we found a single tame duck's egg at the foot of an ivyclad larch tree. Near it, and quite on the ground, was a thrush's nest, containing two young ones and one egg. Last year, about this time, I found a thrush's nest in a similar position very near here, and its full complement of eggs was only three!

So it seems to me that it is the same bird as last year: that in some way the female can only lay three eggs, and that it has a peculiar characteristic of building on the ground. Possibly the offspring of these birds will build on the ground also.

In the woods we frequently heard the "yaffle yaffle yaffle!" of the green woodpecker, and the peculiar drumming-tapping of the magpie woodpecker.

In the thicker coverts were several large "nests" which at first I thought were crows' nests. So I climbed up to these, but none of them had holes in the top: it was very hard indeed to find the entrance at all. Several long scratches up and down the trunk confirmed in me the suspicion that they were squirrels' dreys.

A woodman told us that he had heard the cuckoo several days ago.

I climbed up to some more rooks' nests, and most of them had young. The young rooks were blind, and their skin was quite black, and looked very tough and hard.

They squeaked very shrilly, and gaped widely for food.

Around the rooks' nests were numerous droppings, and most of them were of grubs, etc., etc., but there were many large droppings of grain and wheat! Also there were some shells of small birds' eggs in the nests ! ! !

April 10th. Wet, drizzly day. Cut classes, and went with Y. and S. into E. woods. We saw many young rabbits, and several pheasants. On the vermin pole were jays, weasels, stoats, hedgehogs and rats. In the afternoon we visited a place on the golf links . here, so we were told, a barn-owl breeds every year. We got soaked about twelve, so we made a huge roaring fire in a large perforated bucket. We were enjoying the blaze, when a burly looking beast of a farmer chased us away.

Got back soaked, at about 6 o'clock.

April 12th. Terence and I went to S. Park all day to-day. As we walked along the lakes, we saw many rainbow trout and wild fowl. By the large lake in the garden in front of the house, I saw a willow warbler hopping about on the stones after the flies that were crawling about everywhere. The trout were slashing at them, too. Swallows, sand- and house-martins were flying over the lake, and wagtails now and then landing on the water to catch the flies. The trout were rising everywhere. Oh for my little seven-foot greenheart rod!

We saw the vermin pole. It had a pair of newly killed kestrels on it. When we saw the keeper he volunteered to take us round. We went into the pine forest, where there were many large nests. The keeper, however, said that they were old hawks', owls', pigeons', and squirrels' dreys.

Everywhere we went we saw thousands of rabbits, and the keeper knocked me one over to skin. He showed us how to snare rabbits, and pointed out how to distinguish their runs, etc.

In one large pollard beech there was a huge hole. Out of the edge of this was the wing of a barn owl.

A skeleton of one was hanging among some twigs a little way away.

As Terence was climbing up a large owl flew out. It struck me as funny that one should roost, and possibly think of nesting, in a tree where two of its kind were hanging rotten.

Terence said that the hole went back quite three feet, and that there were thousands of pellets everywhere.

He showed us where a brown owl roosts in a small spinney in the middle of a field where plovers breed.

There were about a score of pellets underneath on the pine needles.

He showed us two plovers' nests, each of which we found only after a great amount of searching.

Both the birds rose straight off the nests, because we appeared suddenly from out of the spinney.

One nest had four, set hard, and the other had three, because one of them had been sucked by a crow.&#9;~:

The keeper's dog, a fine heavy retriever, is very intelligent. He can catch rabbits easily. He knows when to stand still, while his master is stalking a rabbit, or etc., etc.

The keeper has many traps, for stoats, weasels, rats, squirrels, jays, etc., etc.

The jays are attracted by rotten pheasants' eggs. The stoat trap is placed in an artificially made drain, because stoats and weasels, hunting, will always go down a drain if they come across one.

The kestrels, he says, are often caught by means of call-birds in cages.

The keeper's eyes appear to be very sharp: suddenly he would say, "There's an old cock pheasant crouching on the leaves." We look, but can see nothing. At length we discern an oblong patch of colour on the leaves. So perfectly does his plumage harmonise with the surroundings that all but a trained eye would miss him.

The keeper showed us a slender, tall beech tree, slightly rotten in the upper branches, where, he said, a pair of jackdaws and a pair of rock pigeons nest every year.

April 13th. The pair of my tomtits began building a nest to-day. The starlings have commenced laying. Father said that he heard the cuckoo to-day.

April 17th. A tragedy ! Underneath the tree this morning, I find, what? The smashed remains of the clutch of starlings' eggs! ! They could not have possibly fallen out, so that the birds themselves must have ejected them! The hen has disappeared, and the cock still continues to sing for another mate lure Doubtless a matrimonial mutiny has occurred, the eggs have been destroyed, and the pair have parted asunder. To all appearances, the cock is still determined to nest in the beautiful box.

Started at 9.30 with N. to go to H. Park. We did not go in the Park, but around the fields. Near the top of the fields is a small spinney, beside Farthing Street. At the end of the spinney is a large (and probably "hole-y") elm tree, covered with ivy. An owl's pellet under the tree leads us to bang the tree with a stick. Nothing, so far as we can see, happens. Suddenly, however, a chattering of tits and finches leads us to look up, and lo! we see a barn owl just settling on a fir tree. When we see him, however, he flies towards Downe, quite 300 feet in the air. We were told afterwards that there were young birds there last year. The tree is practically unscalable, so, if we must get up, we must borrow a large ladder from somewhere.

In the afternoon we found a tree at Downe where there were several pellets in it.

A farm hand told us that he knew several brown owls' nests at Cudham, one of them containing four eggs, set hard. I fear that our chance for tawny owls' eggs is, this year at least, lost.

April 19th. Very good day, so, Terence's bicycle being hors de combat, I went by myself to H. Park. Looking in the owl oak, I saw that it had not been tenanted for some months.

So, in order, I visited and searched every hollow tree I could, in order to find out where the pair had A gone. After much searching, with torn clothes and hands, I found a pollard oak, where there were several signs of recent occupation by an owl. So I scrambled up, and saw the lower parts of a barn owl, ready to fly out, on the wood inside. Taught by previous experience, I quietly withdrew, and left him to himself, after noting the whereabouts of the tree.

Later I was told that, in a certain fir tree in the garden, a pair of "brown falcons" (kestrels) have nested for the last five or six years!

I suspect that a pair of "Athene noctua" owls will nest in a certain pollard ash near "Sparrowhawk spinney," both from deduction and information from farm-hands about "young owls" hanging about near it for some time past.

April 20th. Went with Charlie in F. G. Woods. We found a stump of a fir tree where a magpie woodpecker was boring a hole. After passing many thrushes' and blackbirds' nests, we came to a huge chestnut (horse) tree from where a large bird flew, with much clattering of wings. Looking up, we saw a bulky nest in the fork. The tree, however, was almost unscalable. In the same tree is a rotten branch with half a dozen magpie woodpecker holes in it, each above the other, thus:—

We visited the remains of the old decayed pollard-plane tree, where H. found a treecreeper's nest last year. Looking carefully around it, I found, near the top, a few twigs, but no apparent nest. Looking inside, however, I saw a feather clinging to the touch-wood. Wrenching a piece off, I found a beautifully formed nest, lined with feathers, moss etc. I replaced the protecting piece of wood, and cut off with a knife the betraying twigs on the other side. I am afraid, however, that it will be found by H. I will visit it next Sunday, and see if there will be any luck.

On coming back, I passed a wind-snapped ash tree covered with ivy. Seeing a blue-tit going in a hole, I climbed up and saw a nest nearly completed. A little below it in a larger hole was a starling's nest nearly made. I should not be at all surprised if an owl nests in the top.

April 21st. Went with myself to Squire N.'s. Having called at the cottage and being told that the keeper was in most probability at the lakes, I followed the 0 S footpath to them. I saw the keeper and his assistant CF (his semi-lamed son) at the lakes, busy getting wild ducks' eggs off the island.

When he came across in his boat, he addressed me jovially, and remarked that he saw his first swallow on March 27th, and heard the cuckoo first on April I5th.

His son showed me a moorhen's nest on some rushes about 5 feet from the bank. I could not get at them. We counted five eggs.

He then told me about the owls' nests, in pollard elms, and remarked that the trees were almost unscalable.

After an unsuccessful hunt with him for pheasants' eggs in the coverts, I wended my way to a place where I was told snipes nested annually. I had no luck there.

On my way back over the fields, I saw several small flocks of larks (about five or six in a flock) flying about; and I heard and saw a nuthatch splitting something on a hollow tree.

I saw many cuckoos to-day. Their cry could be heard everywhere. Many times a cuckoo flew so like a hawk that I was almost convinced that it could be nothing else but a sparrowhawk or kestrel.

The keeper has had thirty-five years of experience in these woods alone, and has a first-rate knowledge of wild birds: all of it culled from Nature itself.

He knows where most of the "birds of passage," as he calls them, will nest. He will be able, he says, to show me, later on, the nests of the different tits, warblers, wrens, hawks, owls, heathjars, and nightingales, etc.

He has many weasels and stoats on his gibbets: and I think that his knowledge of keeping game birds permits him to judge whether hawks, etc., are harmful or not. So I asked him, and his reply was as follows.

"Of the two, sparrow-hawk and kestrel, I think that the kestrel is the worse. A pair of kestrels will, out of spite, kill many young pheasants when they get the chance. Of course, their principal food is the smaller rodents, but the spiteful vein in their nature will often cause the ruin of a whole coop of healthy chicks. To the farmer he is a good friend, destroying rats as he does. But to the keeper, well, I think that perhaps he's better out of it. Now the sparrow-hawk, as I have proved many a time, will only feed on doves and other smaller birds whenever he can. When he can get doves, he will leave the pheasants alone.

"Of the owls, the 'barn' is absolutely harmless to game, and he is the best friend of the farmer. A tawny owl will, sometimes, kill a young pheasant for spite, and then, if he continues it, I have him. otherwise I leave him alone.

"Have I ever met rare hawks?

"Oh, yes, now and then, at rare occasions, I have seen the small hobby falcons, and once I saw some of the half-hawks, the harriers, you know. Once I trapped a buzzard and a pair of merlins. I have had the rarer ones stuffed. Once I heard a great--clack-clacking in an apple tree in the garden, and what should I see but one of those rare 'hawk-teller' birds, the great grey shrike.

"Poachers? Oh, yes, several times. We sometimes put up dummy birds to draw the fire of the poacher. Once or twice I have known them come in gangs, many years ago now, but now and then one will G come singly to poach a few birds."

The keeper is still the best climber in the district, in spite of his advancing years. He is the best specimen of the keeper I have yet met.

In the afternoon I got a long flat board, and tried to get out to the moor-hen's nest. After much g difficulty, I crept out on naked feet to it, holding on to the slender boughs of an alder near. There were eight eggs in the nest, and each was just fresh. The bird had just begun to sit, I should think. I took eight, leaving none.

We had an unsuccessful hunt for a "bottle-tit's" nest, where the keeper had seen the birds going with feathers.

Returned home at 7.30 p.m. I blew the eggs with my scientific glass blower, and fried the contents with bacon. Lovely. 0 7

April 22nd. Day of very good promise in the morning: exceedingly hot. But about 11.30 a.m. the rain came down in torrents. I crouched under a tree, and the rain continued to pour down. A pair of great- and blue-tits chattered over m,- head, and} as the rain was slightly abated, a clear "yaffle, yaffle, yaffle" sounded close at hand, and a beautiful maIe "gally-bird" flew on to a decaying ash tree ten yards away from where I was concealed. When the rain had abated I crept up to the tree, and the "gallypot" flew slowly away, and I saw, twelve feet up the tree, a new hole. I think that the bird was just finishing the hole, because, if there had been eggs, and the hole was about twelve inches deep, the bird would not have flown away at once. However, I heard no sound of tunnelling, so perhaps they are now about to lay. Looking in the tit boxes, I saw where a nest was beginning to be built.

At the foot of a tree I found the mangled remains of a lovely hare. Perhaps a fox could glance at me with wicked eyes and bared fangs and tell me about the tragic end of March-hare !

Warblers were everywhere. Blackcaps trilled in the leafy groves, willow warblers warble everywhere, A and the monotonous cry of the chiff-chaff can be heard in every part.

At five o'clock, from a leafy grove, I heard the flute like bubbling notes of the nightingale. As the soft prelude steals through dell and grove, it is answered by "weet-kurr, weet-kurr," of the female.

I saw many new beginnings of woodpeckers' holes, both of the green and greater spotted species. The birds (some of them) appear to be very backward this year. The pigeons are still flying about in flocks, and starlings have not, to my knowledge, started laying yet. In the afternoon I went in the lower woods, and found a large last year's crow's nest in a fir tree. Now most probably an owl or a kestrel will adopt this.

I heard the "peel peel peel peel peel peel peel" of the wryneck this afternoon.

April 23rd. Went to S Park by myself. Hearing the plovers crying in the field where they nest, I tried to find a nest. So I hid in the spinney, and, appearing suddenly, marked where a plover got up. It got up, and ran a little way, pretending to be picking up seeds. When it had run about 19 yards, it rose suddenly with a loud cry of alarm, just as though I had just flushed it from its nest.

Throwing my cap to where I saw it first rise, I walked round and round till I found the nest, which contained four fresh eggs.

Found many fully made starlings' nests.

I went in the afternoon through the woods with the keeper, looking for pheasants' nests. We did not find any. On our way through the pine woods, we passed a dead brown owl, which the keeper had shot in mistake (in the evening) for a wild pigeon.

Going back I found a jackdaw's nest in a hole in a difficult pollard beech. There was one beautifully marked egg in the nest, which I had. The nest was made of pieces of string and paper!

There was another jackdaw's nest just above it, but I did not climb up to it, as I felt rather shaky.

The spotted woodpeckers will soon be laying.

Returned at 8 o'clock. -'

April 26th. As it was very wet, and the House footer match scratched, I tramped it to F. G. Woods by way of S.'s Wood. The treecreeper's nest contained three eggs, one of which I had. It was so cunningly hidden that I am sure that no one will ever find it, unless by accident, as I did.

A large bird again "slid" off the nest (which I had thought to be a pigeons') in the fork of the large horse-chestnut tree. I could not see the bird, however, in order to identify it. After looking round, I returned home, as the clouds appeared to be very threatening. I heard a cuckoo crying in the woods, but the "oo" syllable was cracked, and sounded like a boy's voice sometimes sounds when it is breaking.

If it had been the end of June I might have thought it as quite proper, but it seems curious at this time of the year.

April 27th. Went with H. to the same woods again.

When we visited the creeper's nest, we saw that it A had been ragged, and that the eggs (miraculously N; enough) had been wedged in the foundations of the D; nest. As we approached the horse-chestnut tree we saw a large carrion-crow fly off! So H. climbed up and brought down four eggs. Two of-them were almost hatched (so much so that the beaks of the birds appeared through the shell) and two were (good luck) unfertile. We put one of the young birds in the nest of a song thrush with far-incubated eggs, and the other I took home and heated up in the oven.

Unfortunately it died.

The nest was cup-shaped in the middle, and was lined with pieces of rope.

When we returned in half an hour's time, we saw the pair fly away. Possibly the birds may decide to lay another clutch in the same nest, as we did not disturb it at all. The pair of swans on the lakes were nesting. We saw several more spotted-woodpeckers' holes in an old tree near the lakes.

I went again there in the evening with Terence. We saw a kestrel hovering on the outskirts of the wood, and then he settled on a wind-snapped pollard-elm where there is an admirable place for a kestrel to nest. As we startled him in the air, two (and only two) tomtits chased him for quite a length of time, round and round in the air for quite a long time. The hawk looked just like a huge swallow about the head and wings, but his long straight tail did not further add to the likeness.

The hawk looked something like this (with the two tits following him).

As we neared the wren's nest, we heard an owl hoot. I put my hand in the nest, and the wren slipped out chattering.

As we were coming back through the gloaming, a black shape ran across the path in front of us, and I was just about to hit it with my stick (thinking it to be a rabbit or rat) when I saw that it was a hedgehog.

Terence wrapped it in his handkerchief, and we carried it home. When we got it there, we put it in front of the fire, and soon it half uncurled, just as though it was sleeping.

We gave it warm milk, and it lapped it greedily, all the while watching us with its beady black eyes.

Then he condescended to eat some biscuit, and even allowed me to stroke his nose.

Then he half curled up and went to sleep.

He was put in the garden next day, but he disappeared the same day.

Rest of Diary is Lost!