134 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



existence. A thrush, it is true, but modified and raised 

 as far above those olive-coloured spotty birds as the 

 lovely and graceful grey wagtail is above the modest 

 little creeping pipits it springs from. That we have 

 been told of other blackbirds in many lands does not 

 matter, since what we hear about such things does not 

 impress us — we forget and practically disbelieve it. 

 The sight of a ring-ouzel thus deprives us of an 

 illusion. 



I was not affected in that way at the Peak, having met 

 the bird a long time before in other parts of the 

 country, but its song had remained unknown and I 

 had come to hear it. Nor had I long to wait for that 

 pleasure. On my way to the small hovel of a farm- 

 house, on Axe Edge, where I had arranged to stay, 

 while walking in the old forsaken road, worn very 

 deep and thickly bestrewn with loose stones like the 

 bed of a dry mountain torrent, I caught the sound 

 of a bird voice unknown to me, and peeping over 

 the bank at the roadside, beheld the ring-ouzel 

 within twenty yards of me, sitting on a stone wall, 

 emitting his brief song at intervals of less than half a 

 minute. 



After listening for about fifteen minutes till he flew 

 off, I went on my way rejoicing at a new experience 

 and marvelling that this simple little bird melody, 

 which one would imagine any child could imitate or 

 describe to you so that when heard afterwards it could 

 easily be identified, had yet never been described in 

 the ornithological books. Such a statement may seem 



