170 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



Nothing now remained to do but to snuggle down 

 in a cluster of heather and to sit there motionless and 

 watch, and in due time the bird reappeared with his 

 mate, and they came to and scolded me, then, seeing 

 me so still, went away about their business. 



In one thing this pair disappointed rne. My first 

 object in going to the heath was to make sure that 

 they were still there; I had another, which was not 

 to pull their nesting-bush to pieces, to let in the sun- 

 light, rearrange it, and then photograph the nest "in 

 its natural surroundings," as our fictionists of the 

 camera have it, but to describe the song immediately 

 after listening to it, when the impression would be 

 fresh in the mind. This bird, from dawn to dark, 

 declined to sing or say anything except that he 

 objected to my presence. His girding note is like that 

 of a refined whitethroat — he chides you like a fairy. 

 The songlessness was no doubt due to the fact that 

 there was no other pair, or no cock bird, to provoke 

 him, in that part. 



One evening, three days later, I was in another 

 part of the heath, about half a mile from the breeding- 

 place of the first pair, when a small bird flitted up 

 from the furze and perched for a few moments on the 

 topmost twig of a bush; another furze-wren, his 

 dainty figure silhouetted, black as jet, against the 

 pale evening sky, on the summit of his black and 

 gold furze-bush! It was a joyful moment, a discovery 

 wholly unexpected, as I had previously explored that 

 part and found nothing. It was in a spot where the 

 furze grew in a dense thicket, four to six or seven 



