2 8o BIRD LIFE GLIMPSES 



produce in a bird, even when its young do not 

 come into question. Moorhens, too, are excitable, 

 even as birds. Their nerves, I think, are highly 

 strung. I have often noticed that the report of a 

 gun in the distance — even in the far distance — will 

 be followed by half-a-dozen clanging cries from as 

 many birds — in fact, from as many as are about. 

 Especially is the hen moorhen of a nervous and 

 sensitive temperament, open to " thick-coming 

 fancies," varying from minute to minute. How 

 often have I watched her pacing, like a bride, on 

 cold, winter mornings, along the banks of our little 

 stream. Easy, elastic steps ; head nodding and tail 

 flirting in unison. She nestles, a moment, on the 

 frosted grass, then rises and paces, as before, stops 

 now, stands on one leg a little, puts the other down, 

 again makes a step or two, then another pause, 

 glances about, thinks she will preen herself, but 

 does not, nestles once more, gives a glance over 

 her shoulder, half spies a danger, rises and tip-toes 

 out of sight. What a little bundle of caprices and 

 apprehensions ! But they all become her, " all her 

 acts are queens." Some special savour lies in each 

 motion, in each frequent flirt of the tail. Though 

 this flirtation of the tail is very habitual with moor- 

 hens, though nine times out of ten, almost, when 

 you see them either on land or water, they are flirt- 

 ing it, still they do not always do so. " Nonnun- 

 quam dormitat bonus Homerus " — " Non semper tendit 

 arcum Apollo^ It can be quite still, that tail. I 

 have seen it so — even twenty together, whose owners 

 were reposefuUy browsing. But let there be any 

 kind of emotion, almost, and heavens ! how it flirts ! 



