AUTUMN BIRD LIFE 253 



open, since the passage out of the last harvest cart. 

 One is not bound to the high-road, but may turn 

 aside anywhere, without fear of being rudely 

 challenged. 



A flock of larks rise from the stubble, and 

 flutter away with their vibrating mode of flight. 

 If this bird is decreasing, it is because of the cook, 

 and the lessened area of breeding-ground. I do 

 not think the cook counts for much in Scotland. 



On the far side, the field passes into the links, 

 with only a turf dyke to mark the transition. So 

 long as we have barren stretches such as these, the 

 larks are safe. Men do not plough the sand. The 

 life of the bent is largely from home at present. 

 A solitary stonechat poises for a moment on the 

 extreme top of a furze bush, and then flits off to 

 another and more distant perch. A solitary 

 meadow - pipit rises from the grass, and drifts 

 away. 



The linties, or such a miserable remnant of last 

 year's flocks as are left, were feeding on the fallow 

 field as I passed. If the larks are safe because 

 they build on the ground, which no one can 

 remove, the case of the bush-building linties is 

 different. 



The olden charm of the links was the glow of 



