THE PIPITS 265 



finding some want in the bird. That little body of his, had it grass- 

 stems to creep in and out amongst, might do so as deftly, as mousily, 

 as his brother Pratensis does; he could not go, then, in such 

 straight uncompromising lines, he must be more sinuous, more 

 meandering, more hesitating consequently more a pipit and less 

 homme d'affaires. He would be sometimes half hidden, then lost 

 outright, in the rank grassy jungle, then seen again, for a moment 

 a full view moving demurely, with little picked steps, amidst 

 (to him) tall bamboos, slender and shapely; he would have to look 

 pretty and dainty then, even when he walked, and when he flew 

 some fair " plant of grace " would receive him, and sway with him 

 gracefully, or, in the rays of broom, or gorse, or of marsh marigold, 

 his quiet plumage would be enlivened. But there are no plant 

 labyrinths for him to thread, here. He walks on bare boards, as 

 it were, with nothing to shade or relieve him, and when he flies 

 he is lost, or as nothing, in the frown of a precipice, or, upon its 

 face, he disappears. The raven, even, does not look impressive under 

 such circumstances I doubt if the eagle would ; as for the poor 

 little rock-pipit, he goes out ceases and even on his black rocks- 

 stupendous fragments of the vast wall that towers above them it 

 is difficult to see or remember him. When one does, one sees but 

 a little, black-looking, unpoetical bird, out of artistic touch with his 

 surroundings. 



If, as has been seen, such pipits as we know, or know best, have 

 this way of the lark that of singing, namely, whilst they, in different 

 degrees but in the same general manner, rise buoyantly from earth 

 to air, and then sink slowly back again, 1 it is the same with others 

 that we know not. One in Petchora, for instance, not only soars and 

 circles, 2 like the skylark itself, but even seems to be developing a 



1 The general assertion is that the tree-pipit sings only when descending, and not when 

 rising. Nevertheless, this is not altogether so, for the song, as I have over and over again 

 remarked, is begun a moment or so before the full height of the mount is attained. I cannot 

 accept Montagu's compromise, if one is intended, and he does not inadvertently contradict 

 himself (see Ornithological Dictionary of British Birds). The beginning of the strain in the air 

 is, in my view, the beginning of the song there. 



2 See Seebohm, Birds of Siberia. 



