BIRDS OF THE PEAK 129 



catches the light at the right angle and shines with love- 

 liest colour, you may safely say that it was a whinchat. 

 A fugitive sound heard at a distance, of so exquisite a 

 purity and sweetness, so tender an expression, that you 

 stand still and hold your breath to listen and think, 

 perhaps, if it is not repeated, that it was only an 

 imagined sound. 



An even more characteristic sound of the high moor 

 than these small voices which are not listened to is the 

 curlew's voice : not the beautiful wild pipe nor the 

 harsh scream, the whaup's cry that frightens the super- 

 stitious, but the gentler lower varied sounds of the 

 breeding season when the birds are talking to one 

 another and singing over their nests and eggs and little 

 ones. Best of all of these notes is the prolonged trill, 

 which sounds low yet may be heard distinctly a quarter 

 of a mile away or further, and strongly reminds me of 

 the trilling spring call of the spotted tinamou, the 

 common partridge of the Argentine plains a trill 

 that is like a musical whisper which grows and dwells 

 on the air and fades into silence. A mysterious sound 

 which comes out of the earth or is uttered by some 

 filmy being half spirit and half bird floating invisible 

 above the heath. I liked these invisible curlews, sing- 

 ing their low song, better than the visible bird, mad 

 with anxiety and crying aloud when the nest was looked 

 for. But the curlew has one very fine aspect when, 

 at your approach, he rises up before you at a distance 

 of three or four hundred yards and comes straight at 

 you, flying rapidly, appearing almost silver-white in 

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