1034 WHEATEAR 
WHEATEAR, as a bird’s name perhaps of doubtful meaning,! 
though Taylor, the “ water poet” (0). 1654), in whose writings it 
seems first to occur, and Willughby explain it (in the words of Ray, 
the latter’s translator) as given “because [in] the time of wheat 
harvest they wax very fat.”? 
The Wheatear, the Saxicola cnanthe of ornithologists, is one of 
the earliest migrants of its kind to return to its home, often reach- 
ing England at the end of February and almost always by the 
middle of March. The cock with his bluish-grey back and light 
buff breast, set off by black ear coverts, wings and part of the tail, 
is rendered still more conspicuous by his white rump as he takes 
short flights in-front of those who disturb him, while his sprightly 
actions and gay song harmonize so well with his delicately-tinted 
plumage as to render him a welcome object to all who delight in 
an open country. When alarmed both sexes have a sharp mono- 
syllabic note that sounds like chat; and this has not only entered 
into some of the local names of this species and of its allies, but has 
caused all to be spoken of as Coats. ‘The nest is constantly placed 
under ground ; the bird taking advantage of the hole of some other 
if they are imaginative, are apt to ascribe the same feelings to the bird that utters 
it. Thus we have writers finding in it a resemblance to “the wail of a lost 
spirit ””—that being presumably a sound with which they are acquainted. One 
author terms Curlews ‘‘ Plaintive creatures who pity themselves on moorlands ” 
—a pretty poetic fancy maybe, but sheer nonsense as every naturalist knows. 
Given the moorland, the Whaup leads a happy life ; without it, he would have 
good reason to pity himself. The unsuspecting traveller no doubt may be 
occasionally startled at the sudden and loud cry, especially at night when the 
bird is invisible, and this species is probably in many instances the cause of 
the widely-spread belief, if one may so call it, in the mysterious ‘‘ Seven 
Whistlers,” though the Golden Plover, and perhaps other night-flying Limicole 
oN MIGRATION (pages 571, 572) may contribute to the consternation of the 
listener. 
1 The supposition that it is an euphemism of an Anglo-Saxon name (cf. 
Bennett’s ed. of White’s Nat. Hist. Selb. p. 69, note) must be rejected until it be 
shewn that such a name ever existed. It is true that ‘‘ Whittaile” (cf Dutch 
Witstaart and French Culblanc) is given by Cotgrave in 1611; but the older 
names, according to Turner, in 1544, of ‘‘ Clotburd ” (=Clod-bird) and “‘Smatch” 
(=Chat) do not point in that direction. ‘‘Fallow-chat” is another old name 
still locally in use, as is ‘‘ Coney-chuck.” 
* It would seem also from this author to have been originally the local name 
for the species in Sussex, on the South Downs of which county its capture in a 
very simple kind of trap has been the occupation of many generations of shepherds, 
who thereby have made an excellent trade, since Wheatears in their proper 
season, from the end of July till towards the end of September, are justly 
esteemed for the table and fetch a price that for many years has been continually 
rising owing to the failing supply, which is chiefly due to the bringing under 
tillage of so much of the sheep-walk, heath, down and other open country that 
was formerly in a natural condition. 
