196 BIRDS OF THE WAVE AND WOODLAND 



But oddest of all is the following superstition from an 

 English book of the twelfth century: — "These little birds, if 

 they are preserved in a dry place, when dead never decay ; 

 and if they are put among clothes and other articles, they pre- 

 serve them from the moth and give them a pleasant odour. 

 What is still more wonderful, if when dead they are hung up 

 by their beaks in a dry situation, they change their plumage 

 every year, as if they were restored to life, as though the 

 vital spark still survived and vegetated through some mys- 

 terious remains of its energy." 



None of our British birds probably feels a severe winter 

 more keenly than the kingfisher, for when the streams are 

 frost-bound and icicles hang from the willows where it 

 used to perch so blithely in the summer clays, the little 

 creature is in a desperate plight. Insect-eating birds have a 

 last resource in berries and vegetable food, but the kingfisher, 

 when the streams are frozen and the ponds all ice-locked, has 

 nothing to fall back upon, and so he wanders off to the sea- 

 shore and the mouths of rivers that are still open. " Even 

 here," says a writer, " the poor kingfisher often fares badly, 

 and after an unusual spell of frost numbers of them are picked 

 up starved to death. Sometimes they are found frozen to the 

 branch on which they have been sitting." But in open 

 weather its life is as joyous as any bird's can be, and is passed 

 among the prettiest of scenery. 



You will note, or may fancy that you do, that it is 



