02 



HARDYVICKE'S SC1EN CE-GOSSIP. 



tinctly the hour on a watch." "The question of 

 the amount and the kind of light in these abysses 

 was constantly before us. That there is light there 

 can be no doubt. The eyes in many species of all 

 classes were well developed; in some, very remark- 

 ably so. It is scarcely possible that any appreciable 

 quantity of the sun's light can penetrate beyond 

 two hundred fathoms at most." " It seemed to us 

 probable that the abyssal regions might depend for 

 their light solely upon the phosphorescence of their 

 inhabitants." Here is a new thought dragged up 

 for us, de profundis, from more than a thousand 

 feet beneath the surface of the sea, to fill us with 

 wonder and astouishment. 



. The wild gales that sweep over our coasts in this 

 boisterous month of March will disturb even the 

 bed of the ocean ; and the lashing waves, for ever 



battling with our tall cliffs, and grinding, tearing, 

 and transporting our shingle-beaches and sands, 

 will throw up many strangers at our feet— creatures 

 never seen in calm weather, torn up from below, 

 and carried, perhaps, hundreds of miles by ocean 

 currents ; perhaps, a Gorgonia jiabellum may be 

 brought to us by the " Gulf-stream " : tons of 

 zoophytes of all kinds will be left stranded by the 

 spring tides ; and who knows but that, amongst 

 the innumerable forms of life brought home to us 

 by the storms of the vernal equinox, we may not 

 pick up a few living specimens of the asteroid 

 polypes about which we have been gossiping, the 

 Gorgonice, the creatures furnishing the " spicules " 

 of our microscopic slides, the luminous animal- 

 plants of the mighty deep, the common Sea-fans. 

 Bury Cross, Gosport. 



MY KESTREL. 



f\^ all my numerous feathered favourites, none 

 ^ excite my admiration so much as the Falcons, 

 with their lofty flights and long graceful swoops. 

 Often have I stood on the green hill-side watching 

 with delight one sailing away through the clear air, 

 steadily diminishing in size till it appears but a 

 mere speck against the sky, till at last sight can 

 follow no farther. Unfortunately for the naturalist, 

 though, perhaps, fortunately for farmers and game- 

 keepers, many of our beautiful raptores are becoming 

 great rarities with us. As to the larger species, it 

 is not surprising that as cultivation and civilization 

 increase, they are driven farther and farther away 

 from the haunts of man, to seek their prey in wilder 

 regions. 



Should one make its appearance now, it is pur- 

 sued by every one possessed of a gun, and even 

 then, if fortunate enough to escape its numerous 

 foes, it is only by the exercise of sucli vigilance, 

 that the saying "as wild as a hawk" only expresses 



a fair amount of caution on its part. Of course it 

 is to be expected that the agriculturist would be in 

 arms against the invader to save his chickens and 

 ducklings from slaughter, and certainly he has a 

 fair excuse for waging deadly war against the Kites 

 and Sparrow-hawks which disturb his farmyard. 

 But if he would be content with the destruction 

 of those birds alone, and leave" the rest in peace, 

 it would be quite satisfactory; but with a sweeping 

 denunciation he includes the whole race of raptores 

 among the "vermin" he has some cause to hate, 

 and thus not only does the greatest injustice to my 

 little friend the Kestrel, but in fact declares war 

 against his very best ally. And after all it is chiefly 

 through carelessness or obstinacy that he persists 

 in his folly. 



No one would mistake the Kestrel hovering on 

 the wing, and watching for his prey beneath him, 

 for the Sparrow-hawk or Kite sailing and swooping 

 in large circles round the farmyard, looking out for 

 a chicken or small bird. The effect of the presence 

 of the two species is also very different. On the 

 approach of the Sparrow-hawk, the whole yard is 

 in an ecstasy of fear and anger, the smaller birds 

 hiding themselves in a twinkling, and the larger 

 uttering warning notes, and preparing for the foe. 

 The Kestrel, on the other hand, passes without 

 notice: small birds, indeed, do now and then as- 

 semble in flocks, and chirp defiance ; and not long 

 ago I saw one mobbed by a large flock of starlings. 



If only farmers and others could be brought to 

 see the injury they do themselves for every Kestrel s 

 head they nail to their barn-doors, we might hope 

 that we should see them more frequently than we 

 do ; for although they are oftener met with than any 

 other raptores, there is reason to fear their numbers 

 are slowly diminishing. 



But, notwithstanding his numerous enemies, the 

 Kestrel still keeps close to man's habitation, know- 

 ing that his chief prey is found there rather than in 

 less-cultivated regions. Probably on every occasion 

 he hovers over the farmer's grass -land, unless 

 driven off, he swoops down on some hapless field- 

 mouse creeping through the close-cut grass ; and 

 knowing from experience how many mice each bird 

 can devour per diem, the estimated number of vic- 

 tims demolished per annum must, I am convinced, 

 amount to some thousands. These, there is no ques- 

 tion, are his staple food; but when they fail, small 

 birds, lizards, frogs, and coleoptera are very accept- 

 able ; and though gamekeepers are apt to complain 

 that young game suffers at his hands, I am in- 

 clined to believe that the amount of chickens, young 

 partridges, and pheasants that are consumed by 

 them may be estimated at nil. 



But it is as a domesticated pet that I would gos- 

 sip of the Kestrel, rather than as we find him at 

 large. In a state of captivity, I have had abundant 

 opportunities of observing his instincts and idio- 



