on the coming of the Nightingale.



187



I have ever since lived in hope that I should some day find

this colony again, in new and less troubled surroundings, but its fate

has remained an unsolved problem. I fancy that what usually

happens in such cases is that the outcasts endeavour to establish

themselves in the territory of the nearest settlement of their race,

with resulting warfare and disaster to both communities.


Another sad memory connected with this spot is that I brought

my friend, the late-T. H. Nelson (author of ‘ The Birds of Yorkshire ’),

here on the occasion of our last ramble. He had never heard the

Nightingale sing, and I had promised him this treat if he would

come as far south as Devonshire. Another friend, who lived in the

Midlands, had made him the same promise, but this friend was

(as T. H. N. himself) a collector, and all that he had been able to

show Nelson was some empty nests, which he had looted of their

contents. Naturally the unfortunate Nightingales in the district

were too grieved to oblige by a song or even a single note. So

Nelson came to Devon, and one beautiful afternoon in May I was able

to present to him five Nightingales singing at one and the same time.


I was curious to see what effect such an experience would

have on a collector, because a collector is a unique type. What

Nelson may have thought I know not, but all that he said was

“Why did the Owl ’owl? Because the Woodpecker w r ould peck

her.” He also lost no time in suggesting that we should try to

obtain a “ clutch,” but, somehow or other, as on many other occasions

when I assisted (?) him in nesting expeditions, there was no loot.


I w T ell recollect that on another occasion Nelson came to

lunch with me, and saw a w T ell-marked Sparrow-Hawk’s egg taken

from the nest that morning. During lunch he skilfully introduced

a discussion on the damage Sparrow-Hawks did to game and

poultry, and was much elated when I told him that the nest was in

a most accessible position, and that he could take the entire clutch

if he wished. After lunch, therefore, we made our way to the nest

which was, as I had described it, only some fifteen feet from the

ground ; but just a small portion of the trunk was bare of branches,

and had to be “ swarmed.”


Now T. H. N., though an ardent collector, was no climber;

the eggs, as I well knew, were absolutely safe. Having vainly



