THE TITLARK 79 



have done before by feigning lameness; and yet he feeds 

 his hen whilst she sits, so we must go and hide behind the 

 wall and wait till they return to the nest ; for that is the 

 easiest way to find the reddish eggs an you wish. 



But hold ! ere we have hidden another appears, looking 

 lighter in plumage than he did in the dark days of winter, 

 when he resembled the hedge-sparrow and starling in the 

 white snow-fields. Watch him; he is hunting along the 

 bank, the colour of his feathers being a shield as he hunts 

 in and out of the grassy tussocks. Naturally shy, he sneaks 

 along something like a rail in a reed-bed, taking advantage 

 of any bit of cover, like the skirmisher he is. Look ! he 

 has sighted his prey yonder, a yard ahead of him. You 

 see he is running swiftly towards it ; lo ! he has seized and 

 swallowed it, and look ! he has already begun skirmishing 

 again. But he has stopped again at yon little silver pool 

 and is sipping the water ; and now look how he preens his 

 feathers, raising his head as suspiciously as a guilty lover. 

 He is in deshabille now, his wings hang loosely by his side, 

 his feathers are shot out ; still his quick little eye sees an 

 insect drop into the pool, and, after a swift glance all round, 

 he seizes it quickly, looks round swiftly again, and darts 

 his head down into the feathers between his legs for another 

 insect that irritates him. But up rises the head again. 

 There ! you moved, and he is gone like a startled hare, and 

 we will follow; for we have disturbed the breeding birds 

 to-day, and they will sit about on the tops of blossoming 

 gorse-sprays, budding brambles, and even on the shaft of 

 that old fork left idly in the marsh, whence they will fly 

 along the heaps of stuff till they think they have wearied 

 you, notwithstanding their eggs are cooling. 



All summer long, from May until the golden harvest, you 

 may find their eggs or nestlings over the marshlands. 

 There you may see them hovering with laden bills over 

 their cradles or flying up in courtship, or with their young 

 following the marsh-mowers, snapping at the moths and 



