THE LANGUAGE OF WILD-FOWL. 109 



intruding living creature, likely to trample upon or injure her 

 young", to some object apart ft"om the immediate spot where her tiny 

 brood may be ! But in no fowl are these stratagems so palpable as 

 in the lapwing : when the human plunderer is farthest from her 

 young, she is most clamorous, and endeavoiu"S to impress him with 

 an idea that he is very near them, whilst she is all the while enticing 

 him away 5 though, when he actually approaches near those about 

 whom she seemed so earnest in her fears lest they should be in- 

 jured, she is silent ; thus endeavouring*, by a careless indifference, to 

 lead the intruder to suppose he is nowhere near the objects of her 

 solicitude. The curlew, and some other fen-birds which make their 

 nests and hatch their young on the ground, perform similar freaks 

 to those of the lapwing. 



Every wild-fowler, from the practised sportsman to the decoy-man's 

 wring-neck, is more or less familiar with the ordinary notes of the 

 species duck, widgeon, geese, and such-like. He knows the trumpet- 

 like noise of a gagg'le of wild-geese, resembling at a distance the rich 

 tone of a pack of foxhounds in full cry ; the sonorous and saucy 

 " Quack! quack ! ' of the wild-duck ; the soft but attractive " Wheow ! 

 wheow!" of the widgeon; the sharp and wailing whistle of the 

 plover ; the shrill but mournful cry of the curlew ; the simple " Pee- 

 wit ! " of the lapwing- ; and the " Frank ! " warning of the majestic 

 heron. With these and many others the wild-fowler becomes so 

 easily acquainted, that a mistake of species cannot well be made ; 

 but it is with other signs of their language that the master of the art 

 has to do, before he can become an adept at evening and midnight 

 sport ; for, whilst these sounds reveal the species, others less voci- 

 ferous reveal their actions, their movements, and suspicions. 



Phny says, most birds cry and sing as they fly ', yet some there 

 are, contrariwise, that in their flight are always silent.* It is as- 

 serted by ancient writers, and confirmed by subsequent authorities, 

 that sea-fowl appear to have some presentiment of tempestuous wea- 

 ther ; and when they anticipate a gale, they assemble together, and 

 are very clamorous. f 



The fowlers of St. Kilda are so well skilled in the difi'erent accents 

 of the solan goose, or gannet, that they instantly understand, through 



* " Sine voce non volant raultse aut e contrario semper in volatu silent." — Lib. 

 X., cap. xxxviii., s. 113. 



+ " Tempestatera futuram pra3cognoscuut, et cum vident earn immiuere voci- 

 ferant atque clamant." — Glantvilla. 



