In the Neighbourhood of Salisbury. 217 



visitant from warmer climates, such as the south of Europe and 

 Egypt, I have a note of one that was killed at Boyton, in Wilts, 

 in 1775. Another specimen was shot on June 8th, 1S32, near 

 Christchurch, which is now in Mr. Hart's collection. A third was 

 shot by a Mr. Jackson, at Eneombe, in the Wareham district, on 

 May 5th, 1865. His attention was first drawn to it by seeing a 

 flock of Rooks mobbing some strange bird, as they often will, and 

 he succeeded in stalking and procuring it. It is rather a small bird 

 compared with many others of its tribe, being in length about 17 

 inches. It would seem by no means a shy or timid bird, and is 

 very fond of associating with cattle. Meyer observes that in 

 Hungary it is often found keeping company with large droves of 

 swine. 



Ardea Stellaris. "The Bittern." One of our most handsome 

 and attractive birds, and one that would be by no means uncommon 

 were it not for the incessant drainage of all its chosen haunts. The 

 first one I ever saw, and which I recognised by a kind of ornitho- 

 logical instinct, was in Yarnton Withy-bed, between Godstow and 

 Ensbam, when I was at Oxford. It rose within fifteen yards of me, 

 with a perfectly noiseless flight like that of an owl j but what was 

 my dismay, when my watch chain caught in the hammers of my 

 gun, and it sailed away unsaluted. I spent a useless hour hunting 

 every hedge and cranny within a mile of the spot, but not then 

 knowing sufficiently the habits of the bird, I could not flush it a 

 second time ; and two days after I had the vexation to see it lying 

 in the stuffer's shop, it having been killed by a Christchurch man 

 in the very same withy-bed from which I had flushed it. I un- 

 doubtedly missed finding it the second time because I looked too far 

 ahead, instead of at my feet, in the same way that you so frequently 

 overlook a hare in its form, which you as often kick up with your 

 foot as discern by the eye ; and this Bittern had undoubtedly dropped 

 in again at the end of the same withy-bed, where there was a patch 

 of thick rushes which I never properly beat out. In 1861, when I 

 was a curate near Taunton, I remember a bargee running into Mr. 

 Haddon's shop, who was a great bird-fancier, and telling him that 

 he had just seen a yellowish bird as big as a hen standing in some 



