146 STORIES ABOUT BIRDS. 



But a naturalist thought he had discovered the reason. 



The nest of the lark is liable to be injured, placed as it is in the 

 grass. The mower's scythe often passes over it, or even the cattle as they 

 graze might destroy it. But the parent birds have been seen in this case to 

 remove their eggs to another place, by means of their long claws. And the 

 bird can also walk among the grass with much more ease. 



The lark, much as we cherish him, has many enemies. His lowly 

 dwelling is quite open to the attack of the weasel, as it prowls along the 

 ground, and you may often have seen the hawk hovering just over it. 



A lark under these circumstances utters cries of the utmost distress, and 

 his neighbours sympathise in his grief. ' ; 



The lark is a very affectionate parent. A man once took a pair wath the 

 nest of young ones, and put them into a cage. The old birds soon began to 

 feed the brood, and continued to do so until they were able to peck. Another 

 person had a tame lark that was very devoted to his young ones. And he 

 not only reared his own brood, but acted as stepfather to several broods of 

 young linnets that were put into his cage. 



The song of the lark, though it seems so wild and fitful, is arranged 

 according to a certain method by the musician. 



Those who have studied the subject can tell whether the bird is rising or 

 descending. There is first a lively air, that increases in volume as the singer 

 ascends. Then, when he reaches his utmost height, it becomes moderate, and 

 divides into short little passages, repeated several times over. He performs 

 the finale as he descends, and half way down ceases to sing. 



The first part of the song expresses eagerness and impatience ; the 

 second composure and calmness ; the third a gradual dying away of the 

 music. 



The lark also seems to keep time by the vibration of his wings. 



If there is any wind, he bounds upwards in a direct line, bound after 

 bound. Then he poises himself in the air, his breast opposed to the tempest. 

 But should the day be calm, he ascends in circles, and comes down in a 

 zigzag manner. 



The music of the lark stays with us longer than that of any other bird. 

 He begins to sing quite early in the year. Our spirits are cheered, when the 

 winter is w^ell over, by the sound of his gladdening lay, on a sunshiny morning. 

 And he sings to us till late in the autumn. 



