HEN-HAERIEES 149 



the air in immense spirals, till she becomes an 

 insignificant line, and perhaps disappears altogether. 

 Or and this is customary after the prelude of 

 rising diagonally, she circles round and returns to 

 the fray, sweeping boldly over the intruder's head, 

 quacking angrily, while now and then she may 

 settle on the ground. 



On these occasions the male is usually nowhere 

 near; but at intervals, and especially at early dawn 

 and again at sundown, he attends the sitting hen, 

 poised statuesquely, often on one leg, on some 

 adjacent tump of ground or heather. If you can 

 catch him at these hours by slipping suddenly 

 over the brow of a hill, you may sometimes dis- 

 cover an unknown nest ; but you must keep your 

 eyes well ahead, for he is vigilance personified, 

 and the moment you appear he is up and off, 

 drifting down dale with a vehement squeal or so, 

 or with a mournful chatter. You must recollect, 

 however, that your chance of catching him nap- 

 ping depends absolutely on whether any one else 

 has passed that way at all previously ; for the 

 Hen-Harrier is the essence of wariness, and will 

 not even brook the near presence of the 

 indefatigable peat-cutters, whom it must see daily. 



Often before the nest is found, sometimes indeed 

 after it is discovered, the female, if off, or when 

 flushed, flies about excitedly in short dips, curving 

 up and diving down like a switchback; or else, half 

 closing her wings, turns a somersault sideways, 



