PEEWIT. 47 



It is a fine sight to see a large flock of these birds wheeling 

 about, and as they turn their dark or their light sides towards 

 you, now gleaming and glancing in the setting sun, and now 

 shadowing into the blackness of the dense moving mass. In 

 the spring season 'their flight, particularly that of the male 

 birds, is very peculiar, being subject to a variety of evolutions, 

 in the course of which they frequently dart perpendicularly 

 upwards to a considerable height, then throwing a summerset, 

 as it would seem, in the air, suddenly descend almost to the 

 ground, along which they course with many -turnings and 

 great velocity, till the same manoeuvre is repeated.' I have 

 been looking at them the day of writing this, and though I 

 had so often watched them before, did so again with increased 

 curiosity. 



They feed on worms, slugs, caterpillars, and insects, and 

 this chiefly during twilight or clear nights. Bishop Stanley 

 says that one which a friend of his had, used to stand on 

 one leg and beat the ground regularly with the other, in 

 order to frighten the worms out of their holes. I should 

 have thought that it would have had a contrary effect, but 

 his Lordship gives the following as the theory on the subject: 

 'Their great enemy being the mole, no sooner do they 

 perceive a vibration or shaking motion in the earth, than 

 they make the best of their way to the surface, and thus fall 

 into a greater and more certain peril.' Dr. Latham says the 

 same. 



The well-known note of the Peewit, from whence it derives 

 its name, composed namely of these two syllables, the latter 

 uttered 'crescendo,' 'pe-wit, pewit, pe-wit,' 'pees- wit, pees-wit,' 

 or 'pees-weep, pees-weep,' is one that cannot fail to attract 

 the ear, whether heard for the first or the thousandth time. 

 The French, in like manner, call the bird Dixhuit. It has 

 also a note of alarm or 'quasi' alarm, which after listening 

 to to-day, I can best describe as a sort of whining sound. 



The young are often hatched as soon as April, and begin 

 to run about almost immediately after being hatched. Mr. 

 D. M. Falconer relates, in 'The Naturalist,' vol. ii, p.p. 33-34, 

 a curious instance of the parent bird when disturbed from 

 the nest, running off with an egg under her wing, a distance 

 of two hundred yards. 



The nest is that which 'Mother Earth' supplies by a small 

 and slight depression in the soil, with the addition sometimes 

 of a few bits of grass, heath, or rushes, and this, perhaps, 



