60 BRITISH BIRDS WITH THEIR NESTS AND EGGS. 



as a nest that which they would have passed as a hole in the ground, or 

 a bunch of leaves. 



The structure itself is loosely put together, the cup very deep ; the outer 

 walls composed of coarse dry flattened bents, rushes, or even fine flags, lined 

 with finer bents, root-fibre, and sometimes a little horsehair ; the whole of the 

 outer wall is covered and concealed by dead oak-leaves. The eggs, which 

 number from four to six, are brownish olive ; rarely, with a red-brown zone 

 round the broader extremity. Still more rarely, they are bluish green, mottled 

 with reddish brown, and somewhat resemble eggs of the Bluethroat : but eggs 

 of this type I have never found, and those with the red-brown zone only 

 twice ; the colouring is doubtless protective, for the typical eggs look at 

 first glance much like oval pebbles at the bottom of a small hole in the 

 earth. 



The call-note is said to be waie, wate, cur-cur; but this always appeared 

 to me to be a note of caution or auger ; the call to the female is either a 

 piercing thin key-whistle like that of the Blackbird and Robin, to which she 

 replies in the same manner, or a soothing tooey to which she does not reply, 

 at least I never heard her; but perhaps the fact that a human being was in 

 dangerous proximity to her nest, may have made her cautious : the alarm 

 note is a low guttural sort of croak. The song of the Nightingale com- 

 mences soon after his arrival on our coasts and continues until the young 

 are hatched, which is usually in June, after this it is only heard in the 

 evening after the arduous duty of providing for its family is completed for 

 the day. 



As the young birds hear but little of the song which is their greatest 

 gift, during the rearing season, it has been suggested that they may learn it 

 while still in the egg ; but this idea seems to me far fetched, and most 

 improbable ; at best the unborn chick could barely be capable of appreciating 

 sound for a day or two before hatching : but, what seems to me to clinch 

 the matter, is the fact that, if taken from the nest when eight days old 

 and hand-reared, Nightingales in confinement do not sing a note ; or such 

 is my experience. I think it far more likely that the song is partly 

 learnt when the father is at evensong and most other voices are hushed, for 

 then the Nightingale's melody sounds most impressive ; probably the finishing 

 lessons are given in Africa, during our winter months. 



It has been said that Nightingales do not bear confinement well, yet I have 

 seen individuals which have lived for years in quite small cages ; I remember one 

 which hung against the wall of a house exactly opposite our hotel bedroom 



