BIRDS OF THE HEATH 297 



bent-grass grows, interspersed with clusters of rank 

 thistles, coltsfoot and yellow-flowered tansv. To 

 this No-man's-land, many birds come. Here one 

 may see precisely as Tennyson did — - 



" the thistle shake 

 When two grey Hnnets wrangle for the seed." 



And here, too, on the smoother stretches may often 

 be noted the white, flickering tail of the Wheatear, 

 or the dark head of the Stonechat as it flits amidst 

 the bents. 



But there is one visitor — growing rarer, alas — 

 which seems to be especially the bird of the thistles. 

 Sometimes on the tangled slopes one catches the 

 gleam of a yellow wing — - 



" A fairy fan of golden spokes it seems ; " 



and soon a party of Goldfinches may be made out 

 as they hang and flutter about the purple tufts. 

 Now a mimic conflict arises as two birds, with open 

 menacing bills, essay to rest upon a single plume. 

 Now one drops into the grass to follow a fallen 

 seed, or flies to a low rock, where the crimson-red 

 of head and throat banded by pure white, and the 

 harmony of brown, black and gold of the body- 

 pjumage, stand in clear contrast against the dull 

 grey hues of the stone. For a little while only they 

 remain, tearing the down of the thistles away in 

 white streaks; then, filling the air with faint, sweet 

 call-notes, and with quick beating of gold-lined 

 wings, they disappear over the distant angle of the 

 clift". 



Although the Goldfinch is becoming less numer- 



