SEARCHING FOR THE WILLOW TIT. 79 



Cuckoo; the rapturous trill of the Tree Pipit, and the bell-like 

 note of the Great Tit mingled harmoniously together. Dog 

 Violets peeped out of the many varieties of Moss which here 

 abound; the Furze bushes blazed out in gold and Anemones 

 besprinkled the thickets. 



We at last arrived in the locality where I was under the 

 impression we might find the Willow Tit, but my companion 

 at once gave it as his decided opinion that the surroundings 

 were not nearly thick or dark enough for our excursions to 

 prove successful. However, we immediately saw what was 

 apparently the common Marsh Tit, and this gave us hope, but 

 unfortunately it was the only one we saw, and it flitted off into 

 the thick wood. The only way of seeing what it really was 

 would have been to shoot it, but this was not our intention, 

 and we preferred to watch its movements and endeavour to 

 find its nest. All along the ditches and the hedgerows, among 

 the tangled masses of tree stumps, we searched in vain. Now 

 and then a Blackbird's or a Thrush's nest was presented to view, 

 and occasionally that of a Chaffinch. Many old homesteads 

 bore evidences of their excellent construction last Summer, and 

 we could see and hear everything almost excepting the Willow 

 Tit. These are the Titmice family that we saw and heard : 

 Long Tailed Tit, Blue Tit, Coal Tit, Great Tit, Marsh Tit (seen 

 once only). The woods were alive with the first four, but the 

 Willow and Marsh varieties were absent. 



We left this paradise for a few hours, making our way across 

 an open track, where on a Summer's evening I have in days 

 gone by heard as many as six Nightjars pouring out their 

 jarring warble at one time, and watched a passing Barn Owl. 

 To a Spruce Fir plantation we betook ourselves. On the 

 way we saw and heard the Golden Crested Wren - the most 

 diminutive of our British birds the Chiff Chaff was everywhere, 

 and the Willow Wren likewise. 



Another company of Titmice were chattering away in the 

 matted branches of a tree, whilst up another green drive, we 

 h id the satisfaction of observing what was undoubtedly a small 

 stray flock of Bramblings, who, by this time, should be back 

 in the far distant regions of Scandinavia, though this bird comes 

 South in large flocks in Winter. A Nuthatch was to be heard 



