28 The Mice Plague. [Sess. 



our native owls, to those who have observed the frequency of 

 their visits with food to their young it is scarcely conceivable 

 that they would fly such long distances. It must therefore 

 appear manifest that, however plentiful, they would never be 

 instrumental in clearing off the voles. It is otherwise with 

 the short-eared species. Following the voles, they nest in 

 the midst of them, and with such a large family to provide 

 for, and breeding more than once in a year, it is easy to see 

 how quickly they would decimate them. Approaching to 

 about four yards of a nest, I was interested in observing a 

 young vole within a foot of an owl sitting on her eggs. Her 

 bright yellow eyes, however, were too intent watching my 

 movements to notice the tiny creature. Going a step closer 

 she flew off, leaving ten eggs exposed to view. There was 

 practically no nest, the eggs being on the bare ground beside 

 a bush of heather, with nothing to protect it from the rays of 

 the sun. Unlike other owls, this species does not dislike bright 

 sunshine, as I observed a pair of them in my aviary continually 

 basked in the sun, while beside them a pair of long-eared owls 

 shunned the light, and roosted in the darkest corner. 



A great deal is said in the report of the Commission of In- 

 quiry regarding the kestrel, and a gamekeeper is held up to 

 ridicule because he killed one which he asserted was an "enemy 

 to game." This bird has always been a special favourite, for 

 who does not love to see it hover ? Years ago I wrote plead- 

 ing for its preservation, even though I had shot one in the act 

 of carrying a young partridge. Seldom having found anything 

 but mice, beetles, &c, in their crop and gizzard, that act has 

 long since been forgiven. Two summers ago, when spending 

 a day at Abington, in Lanarkshire, I had a conversation with 

 the gamekeepers regarding the destructive habits of various 

 kinds of hawks, and, as I always do, I pleaded for the protec- 

 tion of the kestrel. The underkeeper, a young lad, replied, 

 " It's no use arguing with me ; come to the hill, and I'll show 

 you." 1 went, and he showed me the remains of a number of 

 young grouse at a kestrel's nest. In a recent peregrination 

 over a moorland district in Perthshire I saw a number of kes- 

 trels hovering in the air. Pointing one out to the keeper of 

 Loch Kenard, who accompanied me, he said, " We have few 

 about, but I don't like to touch them, although they do kill 



