250 BIRD LIFE IN WILD WALES 



I will now describe an eyrie I visited on May 14th 

 of the present year. The information came from 

 my friend Captain Beauchamp, of the South Wales 

 Borderers, a first-rate ornithologist and sportsman, 

 and to him be accorded all honour for having dis- 

 covered the eyrie. 



Forthwith, on the date mentioned, I am bestirring 

 by 4.45 a.m., and first of all see how the weather 

 looks, for cliff-climbing on a wet, windy day is no 

 joke. The fates are kind to-day, for the elements 

 look fairly propitious, it being a cold but bright 

 morning, though threatening rain. Next I see to 

 my tackle— two hundred feet of stout manilla, a 

 crowbar, and a handy little driving hammer weigh- 

 ing some four or five pounds, a first-class tool for 

 carrying long distances. By 8 a.m. I have accom- 

 plished a long train journey, and am enjoying an 

 excellent breakfast with Captain Beauchamp. He, 

 unfortunately, is not able to come with me to-day, 

 but at 9.45 a sturdy keeper appears on the scene, 

 and by 10.15 I am bowling along in Captain Beau- 

 champ's dog-cart for our destination. After a long 

 drive a typical Welsh farm-house is reached, where 

 we unlimber and start on our peregrinations. Skirt- 

 ing a wooded hill, and crossing several bracken- 

 covered slopes, we at last come in sight of the rocks 

 where the Peregrine is " harboured," and though still 

 fully half a mile distant, all eyes are strained in 

 expectancy. Half this distance covered, and a large 

 bird is visible soaring above the crags — a Raven for 

 certain ; and soon any doubt we may have had on the 

 point vanishes, for he flaps grumbling over the valley 



