124 SPRING- 



and the eggs shine with the paleness of ivory in the gloom. 

 A gflint of white shell often shows through the twigs of the 

 nest from below. The hen birds sit brooding through the 

 late May days, with their russet backs crouched low along 

 the platform of twigs. The silence is filled with the murmur 

 of the cock's double coo ; it is less lively than the spring 

 chant of the ring-dove, but sweeter than the musical groaning 

 of the stock-dove, which we hear in spring among old hollow 

 oaks. When a turtle-dove is disturbed from the nest, a 



TURTLE-DOVES 



couple of others will often spring up from neighbouring nests 

 in the same clump of copsewood ; then the white fans of their 

 tails gleam in the twilight of the underwood. But these 

 shy birds easily desert the nest, and it is best to move slowly 

 past the watching mother without frightening her away by 

 pausing, or by any sharp movement. Once the eggs are 

 hatched, there is no longer any fear of her forsaking; then 

 there is no risk in examining the pair of squabs, which have 

 the curious ugliness of all young pigeons. 



By May the female catkins of the sallow and poplars are 

 shedding showers of down- wrapped seeds. Some of the 

 later birds catch up this drifting material from the leaves 

 when it falls, and weave it into their nests. The later 



