Northern Observations of Inland Birds 83 



roosting quarters remained at their feeding grounds 

 later than those in other directions, knowing that, having 

 the afterglow of the sunset in their favour, their landmarks 

 would stand out clearly to guide them home. 



Birds are arriving to roost among the ruins practically 

 all evening, but the huge packs that appear after sunset 

 invariably come from the east — never from the north, 

 west, or south, albeit that to the east lies a vast stretch 

 of bleak moorland country offering few attractions for 

 bird life other than that which belongs essentially to the 

 hills. 



Another reason for the success of the wild starlings 

 lies in the fact that they are a systematic and well- 

 organized community. They have as many foes as any 

 other bird in the land — in fact far more than most, for 

 their nesting sites, so noisily advertised by old birds and 

 young, are often such that they are at the mercy of stable 

 cats, stoats, and the like. Great numbers are destroyed 

 for food, and I remember once, walking across the sand 

 flats near Southport, I came across a gigantic cage 

 containing hundreds of starlings. Their noisy endeavours 

 to escape were attracting other birds of their species to 

 the vicinity, and scores were searching for a way of 

 entrance — which, when found, automatically closed behind 

 them, shutting off all way of escape. Doubtless the same 

 thing goes on all over the country, yet in spite of their 

 natural foes, in spite of the fact that untold numbers 

 are destroyed and sent to our cities, the starlings manage, 

 by their industry and adaptability, very ably to hold 

 their own. 



In winter starlings live a life of the strictest routine, 

 and the skilful manoeuvring of the packs is unrivalled 

 for simultaneous action by the best drilled company of 

 soldiers. They bank and wheel and rise and alight like 

 so many pivotted puppets controlled by one string, 



F 2 



