148 



Wild Life in Wales 



the other birds were so indignant that they banished the 

 Owl to the furthest depths of the wood, and he now never 

 ventures abroad during daylight ; while even at night his 

 appearance is always greeted by loud hooting. The Wren, 

 too, paid rather dearly for his frolic ; for his feathers, not 

 being adapted by nature for so near an approach to the sun, 

 became so scorched that they have not yet recovered : hence 

 their present-day singed-brown colouring. His tail also 

 was shrivelled to a mere stump. The council ended in 

 disorder, some members proclaiming the Eagle as their 

 king, while others elected to be ruled by the Wren, and 

 to this day no unanimous decision has been arrived at. 

 The consequence is that, while the Eagle is regarded as 

 king in some countries, the Wren holds sway in others. 

 There are many versions of this fable, a number of which 

 will be found in Mr Swainson's delightful book on The 

 Folk-lore of British Eirds^ to which the curious reader must 

 be referred. In that work a long list of names, in different 

 languages, is given, all conferring the title of King upon 

 the Wren ; but, with the exception referred to below, they 

 cannot be noticed here. In Ireland the Wren is almost 

 everywhere known as the King of birds, a distinction not 

 always to be envied, since it often leads to the poor birds 

 being hunted to death on St Stephen's Day, Christmas Day, 

 or other holidays. Something of the same custom prevails 

 in other countries ; and where a Wren is met with in an 

 open country (such as on a moor), away from trees and 

 bushes, its short flights, and dodging habits, offer consider- 

 able temptation to young people to hunt it. More than 

 thirty years ago, the writer has frequently joined in such 

 a chase, the run often lasting more than half an hour, and 

 more often than not resulting in the quarry's being " marked 

 to ground " in some mouse-hole, and having to be left 

 there. 



Upon the Welsh mountains, I one day met a man 

 (needless to say his name was Jones) who volunteered to 

 show me a Raven's nest upon a bleak, but not very high, 

 cliff, near the summit of the range. After we had completed 

 our journey, and duly inspected the nest, we were seated, 



