CHAPTER X 



THE WHITETHROATS 



The Greater* Whitethroat, or " Hay-jack," as he is locally 

 called, is by no means uncommon in the gardens and hedge- 

 rows near the Broads. 



When the lanes are white with May and the cherries are in 

 bloom, the whitethroat's short, cheery song, half land-bunt- 

 ing, half-chaffinch, may be heard for the first time, for he 

 comes from across the mysterious sea, when the blue spring 

 air is dappled with moths' wings and traceried by the flight- 

 lines of insects. For he is an insect-feeder; and when the 

 fenman hears the hay-jack's song, he knows well the cheery 

 sedge-warbler will soon follow. 



Nor is he a laggard in love, for within a fortnight of his 

 arrival his brief courtship is over, and the happy pair may 

 be seen flying along the thorn-hedges building, their delicately 

 tinted bodies flitting in and out, the cock being the architect, 

 carrying the delicate materials — dead whip-tongue, grass, 

 and roots — briskly making six or seven journeys in ten 

 minutes, his white throat and buff coat shining softly be- 

 tween the green leaves of the hawthorn as he disappears 

 with a mouthful of fine grass or horse-hair; for he takes 

 but little pains with his cradle — indeed, you may often see 

 through it, so slightly is it built. Nor does he confine him- 

 self to a thorn-tree, though it is a favourite site. Still you 

 may see his nest in a bank where the violets bloom, in a 

 tangled growth of brambles and dog-rose, on the border of 



* Though I have seen a few pairs of the lesser whitethroat in this district 

 I believe them to be rare. 



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