THE SISKIN. 



the tones of its song mingled so as to re- 

 semble the noise made by stocking looms. 



One day I watched and listened to a 

 cock in a Highland forest for some 

 time. He sat for a little while on the 

 topmost spray of a tall fir tree uttering 

 his somewhat low but sweet and varied 

 notes, then took an excursion into the air 

 as if he intended to fly away, but changed 

 his mind and his course several times, 

 and on each occasion repeated his melody, 

 and finally came back and alighted on 

 the same twig from which he started. 



The call notes are shrill and oft-re- 

 peated during flight, sounding some- 

 thing like tit, tit, tit, or tut, tut, tut. 



