144 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS. 



During heavy snow, especially when the wind has covered 

 the tree-trunks with the drift, it is often difficult to get suffi- 

 ciently concealed. I remember one night in January, some 

 years ago, being greatly disappointed through this circum- 

 stance. The Pigeons almost invariably detected me too soon, 

 and, though there were many hundreds of them on flight, 

 I only managed to get eight. A few days afterwards, under 

 similar conditions, I tried the experiment of putting on a 

 common white nightshirt over all, and a white flannel punt- 

 ing cap. This succeeded admirably, and that evening I got 

 twenty-one out of a much smaller number than were seen on 

 the previous occasion. 



There is a sort of charm in the stillness of the wintry 

 woods as the daylight fades away, and the gloom gradually 

 deepens among the bare trunks — hardly a sign of life except 

 little parties of Chaffinches and Titmice flitting about among 

 the leafless branches, or the rustle of a mouse among 

 the dead leaves at one's feet. Presently a Grey-backed Crow 

 approaches with his triple croak. No bird in creation is 

 sharper of eye, and it is almost ludicrous to see the aerial 

 somersault he turns, when he discovers an ambush, and a 

 pair of barrels rise right under him. Then the silence is 

 broken by the call of the old cock Partridge on a stubble 

 outside ; calling together the scant remains of his once big 

 brood, and as the darkness settles down, the low, cat-like 

 whistle of the Long-eared Owl is a safe warning that it is 

 time to gather up the spoils and be off home. 



As winter commences to merge into spring, we once more 

 get clean, bright-plumaged birds, evidently new arrivals from 

 less smoky regions. Fi-om this and other reasons it is clear 

 that a considerable movement of the pigeon-tribe takes place 

 in early spring, usually in March. The winter stock, in all 

 pi'obability, return whence they came, and their places are 

 taken by those which, having passed the winter further south, 

 now retux-n to the north to breed. By the beginning of April 

 the Cushats commence nesting, and, though they only lay 

 two eggs, make up for any shortcomings in that direction by 

 continuing to rear successive broods over nearly half the year 

 — for young birds remain unfledged in their nests till Sep- 



