BIRDS OF PREY 157 



have seen fine specimens stuffed out of all shape by 

 local bird and animal preservers. The mothers that 

 hatched them would tear them in pieces as abortions 

 could they see them. I feel I have borne much in 

 this way, but really when my attention has been 

 directed to a case about the size of a small chest of 

 drawers, containing a buzzard sitting on the same 

 branch with a woodpigeon, beneath them a teal faced 

 by a squirrel with a white tail, and then right in front, 

 in the place of honour, a dropsical cock-pheasant with 

 a white stoat looking up at him in a most amiable 

 manner, the whole decorated with tufts of dyed reed, 

 grasses, and everlasting flowers, my wrath has burst 

 all bounds ; I have bestowed anything but a benedic- 

 tion, and departed. 



A man would have to take a pretty long railway 

 journey nowadays before he could get sight of a 

 buzzard, unless he were satisfied with looking at one 

 in the Zoological Gardens. In the wildest parts of 

 the forest lands of Sussex he might possibly find one. 

 They know him in Somerset, and expect to see him 

 on the downs and in the hollows just before rain 

 comes ; for then the moles heave in all directions, and 

 the buzzard watches their mounds until a mole heaves 

 close to the top, then grips him. He is a clever bird ; 

 so is his relation, the rough-legged buzzard. I give 



