CHOUGH 



at other times the cliffs hold their own against this powerful enemy, 

 until, broken and disheartened as it were, the heavy, roaring waves 

 sink down again, and in their place, gentle, sun-kissed ripples play 

 their own soft music, as they lap-lap the proud cliffs, or barely move 

 the little stones amongst the rocks. 



The Chough's home is, in very truth, a land of contrasts. 

 One day Nature's wildest deep bass anthem rolls up and along 

 the shore, and the next it is answered by a tiny rippling song. 

 Such a joyous, dancing little song is it, that one cannot recognise 

 in the notes a companion of the storm. But the Chough loves his 

 home, and whether the sea be rough or calm we shall often see 

 him searching along the high-water mark for his food. With his 

 long red beak he turns over seaweed, pokes under small stones, 

 but is ever on the alert, and I do not think that I have ever seen 

 such an eager, restless bird. 



The Chough, however, finds most of his food inland, like other 

 members of the Crow tribe, and upon the farms, where the natives 

 call him the Chow, he will search on the ploughed land for all 

 kinds of insects and worms. Above all, the Chough likes wood- 

 lice, and we can attract him to the camera by placing before it a 

 piece of rotten wood which contains these insects, and for hours 

 he will peck, and search in the decaying parts for these delicacies; 

 for birds as well as men have their favourite foods, and if we can 

 only discover what this is, it is fairly easy to bring before the 

 camera many species of feathered folk that otherwise it might be 

 impossible to photograph. 



The Red-billed Chough is certainly a fine bird, and far and 

 away the most beautiful of our dark-plumaged birds. His red legs 

 and bill and glossy feathers combine to make him a , -thing 'of real 

 beauty, and this species and the companion of his haunts, the 

 Oyster-Catcher, make two of the most handsome frequenters of the 

 shore. 



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