1903-1904-] Wild Life around Edinburgh. 107 



the greatest ease, and as near as it was possible to estimate, 

 were proceeding as fast again as the ship, or at the rate of 

 25 miles an hour, but certainly not more. It was more 

 difficult to say what the speed of the starlings was, but they 

 were travelling at least half as fast again as the larks, and 

 therefore at not less than 35 to 40 miles an hour." The 

 average rate of flight of the Cramond Island starlings was 

 45'21 miles an hour, or, leaving out the two extremes, 42'62, 

 so that these observations taken under different conditions 

 come remarkably close. 



But while it was most interesting to watch the Cramond 

 starlings from a distance, it was even more of a treat to visit 

 them at their home. Of the many trips I made across the 

 sands, the one I most enjoyed was on November 21, 1901. 

 It was about 4.30 p.m. when I reached the woods, and the 

 birds had nearly all arrived before me, though small iiocks 

 continued to drop down. The entire plantation was simply 

 alive with birds, and as it was bright moonlight I could see 

 them clustering together on the trees. The whole colony 

 kept up a continuous chatter very pleasant to hear but diffi- 

 cult to describe. It seemed as if they were all talking and 

 none listening. If I had the gift of descriptive writing I 

 could find no more congenial subject than trying to explain 

 to you the wonderful evolutions these birds sometimes in- 

 dulged in before settling down to roost. I will not attempt 

 to do so, but in watching them I often wondered what induced 

 them to disport themselves in that manner. Was it a pure 

 sense of the joy of living which animals seem to possess in a 

 greater measure than man ? Had they a chosen leader to 

 guide them, or what mysterious power directed their move- 

 ments ? In the moonlight I took a walk round the island. 

 Wandering among the rugged boulders that stud its northern 

 shore, I do not think I ever felt more alone. Far up the 

 Forth I could hear the distant rumble of the trains crossing 

 the bridge. There was a mist over the sea, but from across 

 the mud flats of the Almond came the whistle of the widgeon 

 and the occasional shrill call of the curlew, while the whir 

 of wings overhead told of some of the duck tribe seeking fresh 

 feeding-ground. It was an experience to be enjoyed, not to 



