The Land of Tiree 



discontinued and coal and thill wood have taken the place of 

 peat. 



Lying as it does, well out into the Atlantic, Tiree is visited 

 by many birds during the time of their migration. In 

 the early days of May, whimbrel and white wagtails halt 

 awhile here on their journey north, and many flocks of 

 golden plover, resplendent in their nesting plumage, feed 

 on the grass fields before moving on to the Arctic with 

 swift and powerful flight. Hence the Gaelic proverb, 

 "Cho luath ris na Feadagan," "As swift as the whistling 

 plovers." One season a pair of cuckoos took up their abode 

 on the island for more than a month, so it is probable that 

 the hen bird laid her eggs in some of the many nests of 

 the meadow pipits which breed here. Amongst the chil- 

 dren of the island the cuckoos were a source of not a little 

 excitement. The birds were to them quite unknown, and 

 their call was universally a matter for talk. 



Amongst the Gaels the cuckoo is spoken of as "Eun 

 sith," or "the fairy bird," and this name has been given 

 to it from the fact that it was said to have its home under- 

 ground, like the fairies. To this underground retreat it 

 retired on Midsummer's Day — surely rather an early time 

 this for one's winter sleep I — and so was ranked with the 

 wheatear and the stonechat as one of the Seven Sleepers. 



In autumn many wild swans visit the island, coming, 

 perhaps, on the arms of a gale from the nor'west, when 

 even the solans have difficulty in facing the squalls, and 

 rise and dip aslant the gale with wings pressed back and 

 stern and grim appearance. The wild swans have great 

 power of flight, and it is a fine sight to see them forging 

 their way, in a line, against the storm, each bird seemingly 

 unaffected by the gale, save that its progress is slower. 

 The first of all the winter migrants to take their departure, 

 the wild swans leave the island during the very earliest 

 days of spring, when, away to the northward, the Coolin 

 Hills of Skye still stand out clothed in a mantle of unrelieved 



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