CHAPTER XXII 



THE FIGHTING OF THE BLACKCOCK 



There are few male birds amongst all the feathered tribes 

 who do not, at the season of spring, give battle with their 

 fellows for the favour of the demure lady who stands quietly 

 by. But of all, I venture to think, the blackcock heads the 

 list, for during the months of spring and early summer he 

 fights each morning with great regularity. His battles are 

 waged not only in the spring of the year, but during the 

 season of summer and autumn as well. 



In the Island of Mull — that island of wild hills and glens 

 — there are birch woods clustering on the wind-swept hill- 

 sides, and it is here that I have many times watched, early 

 of a morning, the blackcock, or "coilleach dubh," engaged 

 in his favourite pursuit of fighting. 



The birds are very conservative in their choice of battle- 

 grounds, and return every morning to the same strip of 

 hillside. 



One such fighting place that I know is situated just 

 above a remote sea loch, through whose narrow entrance 

 the flood tide rushes faster than a boat can pull. Birches 

 clothe the hillside, with here and there gaps in their ranks, 

 where the hill grass is cropped short by the sheep and 

 deer. 



It is to one such open space that there come, flying 

 noiselessly through the gloom as the first dawn shows in 

 the eastern sky, the whole tribe of the blackcock of that 

 neighbourhood. An enthusiastic keeper friend of mine 

 erected, before the season of the battles had commenced, 

 a couple of excellent shelters overlooking this ground, and 

 one morning towards the end of April I made my way in 



