DECEMBER 237 



a bold, rocky promontory, whence the cliff falls almost 

 vertically to the sea ; in front, there is a curving sweep 

 of sand, whereon often thunders the surf, but to-day 

 only wavelets break with a gentle, measured throb. 

 On the left, the land rises again, to descend to the 

 shore in grassy slopes, and a long spit, boulder-strewn 

 and fringed with golden tangle, runs out into the tide. 



There are a couple of kestrels aloft, not hovering as 

 they do when hunting for a meal, but playing with 

 each other; now rising to a great height, and now 

 plunging headlong with amazing speed, and recovering 

 themselves within a few inches of the rocks below, 

 wheel round the cliff in hot pursuit of each other a 

 magnificent display of wing power. Presently they 

 alight together on the crag ; direct the glass upon them, 

 and you will be charmed with their beauty. They are 

 not hawks these, but true falcons ; the lens brings them 

 so close that you can mark one of the badges of their 

 clan the dark iris, distinguishing the falcons from the 

 yellow-eyed, short-winged hawks. Despite his warlike 

 mien and active habits, the kestrel is almost guiltless 

 of destroying game. His staple diet consists of mice, 

 beetles, and large moths ; and if at times he is tempted 

 to lift a young pheasant from the coops, it is an excep- 

 tional lapse from virtue which may well be overlooked, 

 in consideration of the good service this bird renders 

 to farmers and gardeners. 1 



1 Partial as I am to kestrels, and convinced of their blameless 

 habits in general, I must admit that certain individuals acquire a 

 depraved taste for young hand-reared pheasants, and that when they 

 take to frequenting the coops there is nothing for it but to shoot them. 



