The Jay 



little short of marvellous that we can still hear his harsh 

 scream in most of our, woods. 



He is very wary and cautious, and spends most of his 

 time, except when actually feeding, on the tops of the trees, 

 flying off with many protestations to another part of the 

 wood on the least sign of danger. His great supposed sin 

 is the destruction of the Pheasants' eggs, though we doubt 

 whether his depredations are sufficiently great to warrant 

 his wholesale slaughter. The fox has been saved from 

 extermination in the interests of hunting, and it is now 

 conceded that, after all, his presence does not so greatly 

 affect the interests of those whose sport lies with the gun 

 rather than with the horse, and if only keepers could be 

 taught to leave the Jay alone the loss of a few head of 

 game, that would hardly be missed, would surely be more 

 than compensated for by the sight of this beautiful species 

 as he dodges through the wood in front of the beaters. No 

 better watch-dog could be found, and many a trespasser 

 will quit a wood owing to the tell-tale warning given by 

 the Jay. Noisy and active as he is during the winter, he 

 becomes in spring exceptionally quiet, and only when the 

 nest is approached does he give any indication of his 

 presence in the neighbourhood. The nest is generally 

 placed some ten feet from the ground in the fork of a 

 tender sapling and is made entirely of twigs and lined with 

 fine roots. It is open and cup-shaped, and the eggs, small 

 for the size of the bird, are pale green in ground colour 

 very thickly mottled with olive brown with, generally 

 a narrow black irregular line at the larger end. The 

 young are chiefly fed on insects, spiders, and grubs, but 



'57 



