196 Northern Observations of Inland Birds 



sidled away with a ludicrous air of suspicion. I have 

 found these birds gorged with acorns the size of the end 

 of a man's thumb — so large, indeed, that an ordinary 

 domestic fowl could not have swallowed them, and on 

 another occasion my brother and I shot several pigeons 

 which were gorged to the limits of repletion on elder- 

 berries. On picking up the dead birds they disgorged 

 such an alarming quantity of the purple pulp that we 

 left them in disgust. 



Woodpigeons are pleasant birds to have under close 

 observation, as their home life is almost as ideal as that 

 of the partridge. It is very strange that these birds, so 

 shy and suspicious by nature when amid rural surround- 

 ings should have attached themselves to the parks of 

 London as they have, living their lives amidst the rumble 

 of traffic and the tread of human feet, and pursuing their 

 daily affairs much as do the thousands of domestic pigeons 

 of our Metropolis. Their soft note of courtship is a very 

 welcome sound, so fragrantly reminiscent of the country, 

 when, during a busy day in town, one's steps lead for an 

 interval from the hot and crowded pavements into the 

 welcome shade of green surroundings. 



In winter, thousands of ring doves migrate from the 

 Continent to this country, and one sometimes sees the 

 most amazing packs of them flying across country or 

 alighting together. Travelling through Dorsetshire by 

 road a few years ago I was amazed to see flock after 

 flock of such size that one marvelled as to how they all 

 obtained food. Evidently they had recently arrived from 

 overseas, and one presumes that the great packs duly 

 split up into smaller packs. I have seen great numbers 

 flying together in the Lowlands, but nothing to compare 

 with the Dorsetshire packs. In the Highlands these 

 birds are comparatively few and far between. From my 

 own observations, I should say they are more numerous 



