A WEEK IN THE HILLS 5 



This bird may have its eyrie somewhere close at 

 hand, and so, desiring a closer acquaintance with his 

 domestic arrangements, we plod on over the never- 

 ending moor, disturbing as we go a pair of Red 

 Grouse, which tell us to " gobac-bac-bac " plainly as 

 any human being. Further on, the plaintive and 

 trilling " curlee " of the Curlew is wafted pleasantly 

 to our ears by the soft spring breezes ; no doubt the 

 ever-watchful male's signal to his long-billed partner, 

 who probably is incubating her four large eggs at no 

 great distance from us. No time now, though, to 

 search for their nest, as twilight is already upon us, 

 and if we would see Buteo in his haunt this night, we 

 must hasten our steps. 



We now approach a line of rocks, not very pre- 

 cipitous certainly, but still not an unlikely spot for an 

 eyrie. Some way off, in a moderately tall mountain- 

 ash growing from the hillside, a nest is visible, a 

 Carrion Crow's for certain. There, too, on nearer 

 approach, is the black rascal on her eggs ; and she, 

 seeing that we are gunless, remains brooding within 

 easy range. 



The keeper is not pleased at the sight, and is 

 delighted when we tell him that we will loot the nest. 

 We should here mention that in this neighbourhood 

 this species is not preserved, and though we have a 

 lingering affection for this bold freebooter, yet un- 

 questionably he does a deal of harm at times, espe- 

 cially in the lambing season. 



But here we are under the nest, which is a bare 

 five-and-thirty feet up ; and the first bough gained, 

 all is plain sailing. Mind that decaying branch ! so 



