172 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



sight of a minute, black-looking bird flitting rapidly 

 out of one low ragged furze-bush and vanishing into 

 another. Here was my furze-wren ! 



Nothing now remained to do but to snuggle down 

 in a cluster of heather and to sit there motionless and 

 watch, and in due time the bird reappeared with his 

 mate, and they came to and scolded me, then, seeing 

 me so still, went away about their business. 



In one thing this pair disappointed me. My first 

 object in going to the heath was to make sure that 

 they were still there ; I had another, which was not 

 to pull their nesting-bush to pieces, to let in the sun- 

 light, rearrange it, and then photograph the nest " in 

 its natural surroundings," as our fictionists of the 

 camera have it, but to describe the song immediately 

 after listening to it, when the impression would be fresh 

 in the mind. This bird, from dawn to dark, declined 

 to sing or say anything except that he objected to my 

 presence. His girding note is like that of a refined 

 whitethroat — he chides you like a fairy. The songless- 

 ness was no doubt due to the fact that there was no 

 other pair, or no cock bird, to provoke him, in that 

 part. 



One evening, three days later, I was in another part 

 of the heath, about half a mile from the breeding-place 

 of the first pair, when a small bird flitted up from the 

 furze and perched for a few moments on the topmost 

 twig of a bush ; another furze-wren, his dainty figure 

 silhouetted, black as jet, against the pale evening sky, 

 on the summit of his black and gold furze-bush ! It 



