240 Northern Observations of Inland Birds 



kingfisher jars strongly upon anyone who really loves 

 the beauty of wild things. 



As is the case with most birds and beasts which attract 

 the eye — strange things are said of the kingfisher. I 

 remember a gardener's son warning me when I was a 

 youngster never to thrust my hand into the hole wherein 

 a kingfisher had its nest, because the bird fixes fishbones, 

 thousands of them, slanting inwards along the walls 

 like the teeth of a crocodile, so that, though it is an easy 

 matter to thrust one's arm into the hole, it is impossible 

 to withdraw it ! This belief no doubt had its origin in 

 the curious construction of the kingfisher's nest, which is 

 composed of unique material. For the kingfisher, like 

 the owls and the cuckoo, is able to cast up undigested 

 portions of its food in the form of pellets. These dry 

 out, and form, in the case of the kingfisher, a dry dust 

 of bone fragments, on which, at the end of the hole, 

 its eggs are laid. 



I remember when a boy making up what I thought 

 to be an exceedingly attractive trout fly in which king- 

 fisher feathers figured prominently. But a water bailiff 

 blasted my hopes by saying that no fish will take a fly 

 composed of kingfisher feathers, for the adult trout 

 remembers well the foe of his infancy ! 



Like the wagtails and the dippers and the herons, 

 each kingfisher has his chosen beat, and objects strongly 

 to the intrusion of others upon it. Many an Oxford 

 man, watching from Magdalen Bridge, has seen examples 

 of their pugnacity along that favourite stretch of water, 

 the combatants banking and turning at such dizzy speed 

 that the sight of them fairly dazzles and bewilders the 

 eye. They are specially fond of rivers having high, 

 sandy banks and abundantly overhung by timber, retiring 

 to roost the season through in the sandy burrows, made 

 by themselves or by the martins. They have a great 



