110 A BIRD COLLECTOR’S MEDLEY. 
Where the pools were deeper the only method of progression was by a series of 
precarious leaps along the tussocks; and where the reeds were uncut it was 
almost useless to try and advance at all. 
After a short rest we commenced our search. To our intense surprise 
Swallowtails swarmed on all sides, and we could have obtained literally 
any number of specimens; but they were quite alone in their glory—not a 
single other sort of butterfly was to be seen. The first nest found was that 
of a Snipe, which rose almost under our feet, and disclosed four eggs of 
a very dark colour. Several other Snipe were visible high up in the air, 
drumming and uttering their bleating note, mingled with the wild “‘ pee weet ” 
of the Lapwings, which were also breeding in some numbers on the Fen. 
Redshanks, too, are said to patronize it, but their eggs are very difficult to 
discover. The find of the day was a Kestrel’s nest. The eggs, as is not 
unusual in this locality, were placed in a scantily lined hollow in the 
sedge, and we thought at first that they were Merlins’. We found, in 
addition, nests of the Turtle-Dove, Sedge-Warbler, Reed-Bunting, Bullfinch, 
and Redpoll, but were too early for those of the Reed-Warbler, birds which 
swarmed in every dyke. 
While resting a few minutes from our exertions, our attention was 
suddenly attracted by a loud ‘“‘chirring”’ noise, proceeding from a clump of 
sedge and willows two or three hundred yards away. We _ instantly 
recognized it as the note of the Grasshopper-Warbler, and, advancing 
cautiously, we obtained a distant view of the bird itself; but long and 
diligently as we searched, we failed to discover its nest, though a friend, 
who went rather later, found two, one in the side of a clump of sedge, the 
other almost on the ground. There is no mistaking the eggs, which are 
speckled so closely with tiny red spots that in many the ground colour at the 
larger end is quite obscured. The shade of red varies considerably, being in 
some cases light pink, in others almost the hue of cocoa. It was now 
growing dark, so we returned to the inn, and after a plain but hearty meal 
set “Wildfire”? once more in motion, and arrived at Cambridge without 
further mishap. 
Far different were the visits I used to make to the Fen in winter. It 
was such cold work driving, that we generally walked trom Waterbeach 
along the river, there being just the chance of meeting with some Duck or 
Snipe on the way. At times Gulls frequented it, especially the Lesser 
Black-headed, and Grey Crows were almost always to be seen. It was 
the custom to put up the shooting, over a portion of the Fen, for auction 
at a local inn, the bidding being allowed to continue until a wax match 
