THE FAERY YEAR 



them, I opened my window and let one out. He 

 was instantly attacked by six or seven sparrows. It 

 was like putting a worm into an aquarium of min- 

 nows. Only they could not catch hold of him, and 

 I thought that he was going to get off safe, when, 

 swish ! came flycatcher, straight as an arrow right 

 through the middle of the sparrows and bore off 

 my poor admiral, pierced to the very heart, to the 

 nearest croquet hoop." The swallow, my friend 

 thinks, is still more expert. " If the butterfly had been 

 a small one, and the bird a swallow, you'd just have 

 seen four bits of wings come fluttering to the ground, 

 all that the swallow had left after that one deadly 

 snap." These insect-eaters that live on the wing 

 know how to seize the body of the butterfly and 

 moth, and clip off the wings and indigestible outside 

 parts in the very act : the seizure of the food, its 

 preparation, and its swallowing are all so quickly 

 effected as to be practically one act. 



Under the hawking bats or nightjars, at a spot 

 where moths or scarabaei are very plentiful, you may 

 be conscious of little showers of wings, heads, and 

 wing-cases falling through the air the refuse. The 

 stonechat is not so dexterous a hunter of a fair-sized 

 and nimble butterfly as the swallow, but very persis- 

 tent. At the edge of the cliff, where the ling will 

 soon be coral, a pair of stonechats have just hatched 

 out a brood, though another pair had full-fledged 

 young a fortnight ago. The nests were built entirely 

 by the hen birds, who are also much more attentive 

 to the young. The cock bird, with his petty melody, 

 128 



