30 WILD LIFE IN THE TREE TOPS 



When, however, the writer visited the part of the country we are now refer- 

 ring to, he experienced considerable difficulty in finding a Buzzard's nest. 



Of course the shapes of Buzzards soaring high in the evening air, sometimes 

 three or four together, were very encouraging and inspiring ; but after having 

 spent several days of fruitless endeavour, the only way of solving the problem 

 seemed to be to ask the natives if they had ever come across a Buzzard's nest 

 anywhere. 



The replies were very interesting, but not altogether what was wanted. 

 For he learnt that the Buzzards' nests were exceedingly difficult to find ; that 

 they were usually constructed in some precipitous cliff overhanging the sea, 

 that the birds laid as many as six eggs, and fed largely on lambs. 



A little more persuasion, and maybe the informants might have been 

 encouraged to declare that they sometimes even carried off babies ! 



The writer had, 4 before the war,' been lowered on a rope to some Buzzards' 

 nests in the cliffs of our south-western shores and now seriously contemplated 

 making a trip to the sea coast. Being, however, particularly interested in the 

 tree-nesting birds of these Islands, he decided to continue the search among 

 the wooded country on the edge of the moors. 



For a time the hunt was continued without any indication of a nest 

 except that one evening a Buzzard was seen flying low over a beech hedge 

 towards some distant trees, the consequent search revealing only a Kestrel's 

 nest with eggs, and a magpie's nest containing a solitary young Tawny Owl. 



The next day, however, a Buzzard was seen jat really close quarters. 

 Fifty yards ahead of us as we approached across the moor, he rose from the 

 side of a mountain stream where apparently he had been indulging in a bath ; 

 at any rate, he settled on a rock some 200 yards away, and by the aid of the 

 glasses we watched him preening himself and arranging his feathers with the 

 utmost solicitude. 



The Buzzard, in spite of his evil reputation, is much addicted to a bath ; 

 probably even more so than many of his more distinguished relatives. 



The direction of his flight when he eventually did take wing was no guide 

 to the location of the nest, as he straightway soared to an immense height, 

 and at length disappeared from view. 



The following day, whilst sitting on a bank overlooking a deep, partially 

 wooded valley, and discussing the possibility of a visit to the seashore, the 

 writer or his companion chanced to spy in a distant tree, a dark lump that 

 looked from such a distance probably a good half-mile like a large nest. 

 Closer investigation, with the aid of glasses, showed that it certainly was a 

 nest, and by all appearances a new nest. 



Hoping devoutly that it wouldn't turn out to be a crow's, and not daring to 

 suggest even to one another, that it looked as though it ought to be a Buzzard's, 

 we collected our belongings and set out towards it. 



