28 DOWN NIGHTINGALE VALLEY: 
which perhaps no other indigenous plant in 
England does. 
In due time the eggs are laid. One by one 
they come until the usual five are there, the 
colour a brownish olive green. Now follow 
long days and nights of quiet rest. The 
male bird sings his song, with its burden, 
‘Peace at home,’ to his contented mate. 
But the notes are those of rivalry as well, 
daring all other nightingales; for they are 
brave and jealous birds withal. 
We knew their ways, that singing ceases 
when the young are hatched (they have no 
time then to indulge in song!), and as the 
valley here and there resounded with their 
thrills, we thought we should soon find the 
object of our search. It was not so easy 
as we had thought, for the nests were 
well concealed; but patience and close 
search rewarded us. Low down, close to 
the ground, a bird flew out, and there we 
found her home, a cosy nest with three 
warm eggs. 
These birds build either in a bush or small 
