7 8 A YEAR WITH NATURE. 



immemorial, adorned thejr hair with feathers, and so it was in 

 civilized Countries. What should be put a stop to entirely was 

 the killing of birds during the breeding season, which was a dis- 

 tinctly cruel and unwise operation, and might result in the loss 

 of many birds, while at any other time this would not be the 

 case. The Hon. Walter Rothschild some few years ago introduced 

 a great many Little Owls in Tring Park. Nearly all these have 

 disappeared, although one is recorded as having been found 

 breeding in the County of Hertford in the "Report of Birds 

 in Hertfordshire in 1897," an< ^ probably this was one of them. 

 I must, however, hasten on as to how far we succeeded in the 

 discovery of the Willow Tit. 



The Duke of Bedford's noble woods in the Woburn and 

 Woburn Sands district are not so well known, perhaps, as they 

 might be, and when I say that a gentleman who has travelled 

 almost the wide world over, such as Ernst Hartert has, exclaimed 

 " Lovely indeed," I have said sufficient for them. 



As soon as we were under the welcome shelter afforded by 

 the stately Firs, the Willow Wren and the Chiff Chaff bade 

 us "Welcome." Wood Pigeons flushed off their nests, and 

 startled Jays bounded off into the coppice. A curious noise 

 like that of a young Crow, which was apparently made by 

 a Jay, once interested us greatly, and we hastened to the 

 spot whence it came, but on reaching it we could see nothing, 

 although I caught sjght of a somewhat large bird which, 

 owing to the distance, I could not possibly identify. Thus com- 

 menced the excitement of our hunt for the Willow Tit. The 

 avenues of trees were in the height of their beauty. Even 

 the copious streamlets did not damp our ardour. Everything 

 glistened with silver rain-drops. Primroses, Wild Hyacinths and 

 Bilberries were all in flower, and the herbage by the side of 

 a trickling ditch called forth our admiration. 



Still rambling through these sylvan scenes to the spot that 

 I had promised to direct Mr. Hartert to, we noticed the long 

 pliant branches of Dog Roses ; the light leaves of budding trees ; 

 the fresh green foliage of the Chestnut, the Hawthorn, and the 

 Ffazel; we heard a Green Woodpecker in the distance, and saw 

 a dead Squirrel strung on the low boughs of a giant Scotch 

 Fir. The carol of a Wren and two Nightingales ; the cry of the 



