136 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS 



summer-migrants, being seldom either seen or heard before 

 June. Its favoured haunts by day are sometimes amid the 

 most impenetrable spots in all the wild moorland- — on 

 some fell-edge where riven rocks and boulders lie piled 

 in confusion, many half-hidden amidst shaggy heather 

 and 6-foot bracken. 



Not always, however, do they seek such break-neck 

 retreats ; they also frequent lowland woods, and it is 

 one of my silent sorrows that none abide here. In 

 Houxty wood are deep pine-glades, with acres of 

 bracken ; but never a nightjar breaks the stillness of 

 a summer's twilight. The conditions do not suit- — perhaps 

 it is a clay subsoil that offends, or the lack of cockchafers. 

 The latter, by the way, though never seen on wing, 

 we often dig out when tree-planting in March — perfect 

 insects, 6 inches underground. 



No bird surpasses the nightjar in agile flight and 

 command of wing. One may enjoy a beautiful exhibition 

 of specialised bird-life in watching a pair in the gloaming 

 of a summer's clay. To and fro they hawk, as light 

 slowly fades, in swift pursuit of night-flying noctuae ; 

 but so instantaneous are their sidelong swerves, those 

 lightning darts and swoops, that eye can scarce follow- — 

 it loses touch in the twilight. Next instant the bird 

 flashes back, almost in one's face, and one sees the 

 "kill" within 15 feet. 



The nightjars begin what time the crepuscular gulls 

 leave off. For a few moments, one may see both at work 

 together. The black-headed gulls are smart on wing 

 — no bird that is not, need hope to dine on night-moths. 

 They miss but little within reach ; yet their grace- 

 ful performance is presently overshadowed by that of 

 the nightjar. It is darker now, yet the latter seems to 



