232 Northern Observations of Inland Birds 



creature devoid of anything in the way of fixed decision 

 as regards destination or purpose as the water wagtail. 

 Now for a moment it sits still and mopes with feathers 

 puffed out, quite a melancholy little figure. Then 

 suddenly it darts a yard, sits and waggles a second or two, 

 then darts off in another direction, seeming to attain 

 nothing by these mad spirts beyond the satisfying of a 

 spasmodic, brainless whim. All at once it rises with a 

 cheery double note, sets off due south, changes its mind 

 and heads for a favourite perch. In the act of alighting 

 it turns again, and as likely as not comes back to within 

 a yard of the point from which it originally rose ! A 

 daddy-long-legs in a gale is not less uncertain than the 

 wagtail. He, at any rate, is borne to one point, and, if 

 he can, he sticks. 



This erratic manner is, however, to be noticed in many 

 insect feeders, for the very obvious reason that their 

 directions of travel being influenced by things which are 

 here, there, and everywhere, are subject to alteration 

 every yard or two. Thus the hedgehog seems to have no 

 more idea of direction than a clockwork mouse, wandering 

 in an aimless, zig-zag course about the verdure, but when 

 a hedgehog picks himself up and runs, as he sometimes 

 will if he thinks he can get there unseen, he runs as 

 straight as any other beast. Insect feeding birds are, of 

 course, notorious for their zig-zag flight, as, for example, 

 the swallows, the flycatchers, and the wagtails under 

 discussion. 



The wagtail is not among our singing birds, and few 

 people know its voice other than the double cheery, 

 pebbly note uttered as it rises and when flying. Yet the 

 wagtail does sing and even warble, at that time when 

 every man, during some period of his life, becomes a 

 poet — though, mercifully, he may be too proud to own 

 it. And similarly we have one thing for which to thank 



