BIRD-LIFE ON THE MOORS IN OCTOBER. 103 



ness of colour, which is distinguishable to a practised eye 

 which knows what to look for. 



To resume : I have already referred to the above- 

 mentioned strange recrudescence of amatory symptoms in 

 mid-autumn in a former chapter, when writing of Blackgame, 

 and therein christened the phenomenon pseudo-erotism. 

 So far as I recollect, neither St. John nor Colquhoun 

 mention this apparently unaccountable trait in the character 

 of certain birds at this season, beyond a passing reference, 

 in the former author's well-known "Sport in Moray" 

 (p. 221), to the habit of Blackgame to assemble, and the 

 cocks to " call," during October. While in the Highlands, 

 I have made inquiries from gamekeepers and others on this 

 point, but without being able to ascertain that the phenomenon 

 was at all known to them. Possibly this may arise from 

 want of observation, for that first-rate sportsman Lloyd, in 

 his " Field Sports of the North of Europe," describes the 

 habit as observed in the Capercaillie in Norway (and, 

 if I remember aright, in the Blackcock as well). Here is a 

 further note on the subject relating to the Golden Plover : 

 " Oct. 81, 1882. To-day, in fine warm sunshine, observed 

 the Golden Plover persistently chasing each other, and re- 

 peatedly uttering their pretty love-note of the spring. There 

 was a large flight of them, perhaps two hundred, and 

 evidently in exuberant spirits ; now high up in the clouds, 

 then suddenly darting down in a hundred curving lines, like 

 falling stars, right to the very heather, whence they rose 

 again, reuniting into close order in the sky, when the pack 

 would again shiver into atoms, dashing headlong downwards 

 in every direction." 



In reference to the spring-note of the Golden Plover, it is 

 often surprising at this season to hear the absolutely perfect 

 imitation of it which is produced by the common Starling. 

 In some old trees before my front door a colony of these 

 birds have their head-quarters, and they frequently amuse 

 me early on a bright October morning, while lighting the 

 matutinal pipe and preparing for a start, by their exquisite 

 reproduction of this soft gurgling note, and also of the loud 

 weird spring whistle of the Curlew. The latter, at any rate, 



