26 BIRD WATCHING 



intervals one or another of them will make its peculiar 

 throw or somersault in the air. This, in its com- 

 pletest form, is a wonderful thing to behold, though 

 so familiar that no attention is paid to it. The bird 

 in full flight — in a rushing torrent of sound and 

 motion — may be seen to partially close the wings, 

 and fall plumb as though it had been shot. In a 

 moment or two, but often not before there has been 

 a considerable drop, the wings are again partially 

 extended, and the bird turns right head over heels. 

 Then, sweeping buoyantly upwards, sometimes almost 

 from the ground, it continues its flight as before. 

 Such a tumble as this is a fine specimen. They are 

 not all so abrupt and dramatic, but there is one point 

 common to them all, which is the impossibility of 

 saying exactly how the actual somersault is thrown. 

 Do these tumblings add to the charm of the peewit's 

 flight? To the charm, perhaps; certainly to the 

 wonder and interest, but hardly (unless we are never 

 to criticise nature) to the grace. The contrast is 

 too great, there is something of violence, almost of 

 buffoonery, about it. It is as though the clown came 

 tumbling right into the middle of the transformation 

 scene. 



As the birds sweep about, they begin to enter into 

 their bridal dances, pursuing each other with devious 

 flight, pausing, hanging stationary with flapping wings 

 one just above the other, then sweeping widely away 

 in opposite directions. Shortly afterwards they are 

 again flying side by side, or the sun, " in a wintry 

 smile," catches both the white breasts as they make 

 a little coquettish dart at each other. Then again 

 they separate, and again the joyous " coo-oo-oo, hook- 



