Letters, Extracts from Correspondence, Notices, ^c. 135 



to try to ascend the top of Hermon. Thence they descend to 

 Damascus, spend July in the Lebanon, and return home via 

 Beirut. 



Mr. Tristram has ah'eady forwarded to us the following 

 notes made in Central France, where he spent a few days, en 

 passant, in order to study the geology of the volcanic district of 

 Auvergne : — 



" Our journey through France has proved that the decree of the 

 Emperor in favour of small birds has not yet been productive of 

 any great improvement in their condition. A Kittiwake, two 

 Hooded Crows, a barren Grey Partridge, and a few parties of 

 Magpies were the visible bird-population from Boulogne to Paris. 

 Arrived at Clermont, the poulterers' shops revealed very plainly 

 the fact that the Passerine birds have small chance of safety unless 

 the gastronomic taste of the people be changed. The stock in the 

 principal shop of this town of 40,000 inhabitants consisted of a 

 few Hares and Rabbits, one Alpine Hare, two brace of Grey and 

 three brace of Red-legged Partridges, upwards of a dozen Ring- 

 Ouzels, a few Thrushes and Blackbirds, two Tree- Sparrows, some 

 Yellow Wagtails and Crested Larks, three Cirl Buntings, nine- 

 teen Great Tits, nearly thirty Blue Tits, and four or five Cole- 

 Tits. 



" We made an expedition to the summit of the Puy de Dome, 

 4850 feet high. On the way we observed the Cirl Bunting 

 taking the place of our Yellow Hammer, and several Yellow 

 Wagtails apparently on their migration. At the foot of the 

 mountain is a little cabaret, closed for the season ; and here an 

 excited chasseur, who had had the good fortune to secure two 

 Alpine Hares among the stunted hazels on the mountain-side, 

 in his paroxysm of delight rejected the previous contents of his 

 bag, consisting of a Cole-Tit, which I picked up and skinned as 

 a souvenir. Arrived at the summit, the only signs of bird-life 

 were a solitary Kestrel, a Tithys Redstart, and a lonely Rock- 

 Sparrow [Petronia stulta), which sat Wheatear-like on its rocky 

 perch, giving forth its monotonous note in the confidence that 

 the ascent of the mountain was too fatiguing even for the most 

 ardent chasseur. 



