H2 The Gamekeeper at Home. 



spring ; a little later, in the early mornings, the 

 blackbird joins, filling the copse with a chorus at the 

 dawn. But, if the wind turns to east or north, the 

 rooks perch on the oaks in the hedgerows in the 

 middle of the day, puffing out their feathers and seem- 

 ing to abandon all search for food as if seized with 

 uncontrollable melancholy. Hardy as these birds 

 are, a long frost kills them in numbers, principally by 

 slow starvation. They die during the night, dropping 

 suddenly from their roosting-place on the highest 

 boughs of the great beech-trees, with a thud distinctly 

 heard in the silence of the woods. The leaves of the 

 beech decay so gradually as to lie in heaps beneath 

 for months, filling up the hollows, so that an un- 

 wary passer-by may plunge knee-deep in leaves. 

 Rooks when feeding usually cross the field facing 

 the wind, perhaps to prevent the ruffling of their 

 feathers. 



Wood-pigeons have apparently much increased in 

 numbers of recent years ; they frequent sheltered 

 spots where the bushes diminish the severity of the 

 frost. Sometimes on the hills at a lonely farmhouse, 

 where the bailiff has a long-barrelled ancient fowling- 

 piece, he will lay a train of grain for them, and with 

 a double charge of shot, kill many at a time. 



Men have boasted of shooting twenty at once. 



