SKY LAEK. 13 







as he was walking, by the cry of a bird, he discovered a pair 

 of Larks rising out of an adjoining stubble field and then 

 crossing over the road on which he was, one of them having 

 a young bird in its claws, which was dropped in the opposite 

 field, at a height of about thirty feet from, the ground, and 

 killed by the fall. The affectionate parent was endeavouring 

 to convey its young one to a place of safety, but her strength 

 failed in the attempt. The long hind claws seem well adapted 

 for this feat. 



The Lark seems to have, occasionally at least, kindly feelings 

 even towards the young of another species. One of these 

 birds, which had been taken from the nest when very young, 

 and brought up in a cage, was turned out when it was able 

 to fly, and some young Goldfinches put into its place. The 

 Lark returned to her former abode, and was again put into 

 the cage with the Goldfinches. They were weak and feeble, 

 and she not only brooded over them, but fed them. Others 

 have been known to continue to feed their young when cap- 

 tured with them, apparently unobservant of the change, and 

 Mr. Weir has written of one, a male bird, which, while in 

 confinement, acted the part of a faithful step-father, having 

 brought up a number of his own species, and likewise several 

 broods of Linnets, and, what was still more curious, one which 

 was only a few weeks old assisted him most assiduously in 

 giving food to a family of young birds. 



In the wild state, if on the nest, the hen bird will either 

 crouch close, in the hope, very often realized, of escaping 

 detection, or, if disturbed, will fly off to a short distance, in 

 anxious distress, in a low cowering manner, or hover about a 

 little way overhead, uttering a note of alarm, which soon 

 brings up the male. Larks are very good eating, and countless 

 thousands are taken for the table, but still their numbers 

 never seem to decrease. 



As to the flight of the Lark, it is indeed a 'lofty' one, 

 continued upwards, higher and higher as the spring advances 

 and the sun, towards whom he soars, gets higher in the 

 heavens; up, and up, into the very highest regions of the 

 air, so that the eye is literally oftentimes unable to follow 

 it; but if you watch long enough, you will again perceive 

 the vocalist, and downwards in measured cadence, both of 

 song and descent, but rather more rapidly than he went up, 

 he will stoop; nearer and nearer he will come, until at last, 

 suspended for a moment over the spot which contains his 



