i io NATURE'S STORY OF THE YEAR 



ledge down the slope. Some great woodland trees 

 bounded the horizon. It was nearly the middle of 

 May when a friend showed me the way to this 

 bird's home. We walked quietly, yet disturbed 

 the browsing cattle and frightened a brown owl 

 from his beat. My friend said that this nightingale 

 was a remarkable one, and his opinion was justified. 

 Many had I closely observed in order to record 

 their occasional mimicry and the relative frequency 

 with which different ones uttered certain specific 

 notes of the species. One had sung so like a 

 common whitethroat that his strangeness was 

 observed and mentioned to me by a lad who knew 

 very little about birds. Another, after the destruc- 

 tion of his nest (for the benefit of a local lady 

 collector), uttered only at long intervals a single 

 miserable note. A third could repeat an exclama- 

 tion more than thirty times without a rest. But 

 none sang like this nor in so fair a spot. There 

 was a weird charm in the place. The moonlight 

 revealed the outlines of the great trees and 

 glimmered on the dewy grass, betraying the 

 undefinable forms of the cattle. It lit up the 

 delicate greenery of the larches, making this more 



