THROUGH THE WOODS. 107 



composed of insects, fruit, grain, seeds, and tender 

 shoots of herbage. It usually departs southwards 

 again in September. 



Almost everywhere the woodlands are sacred 

 to Game they are the jealously guarded sanctuary 

 of the PHEASANT (Phasianus colchicus], with whom, widely 



,. , * , . /J , distributed 



according to the game preservers views, no other wherever 



i -i i i i i- r> i preserved. 



large wild birds may live in peace. bven the 

 naturalist may be forbidden to enter these shady 

 preserves in quest of knowledge, unless he makes 

 friends with their keeper first. Everything likely 

 to disturb the royal bird sacred to sport, is 

 religiously tabooed. And yet the Pheasant is an 

 alien after all, in spite of his being so thoroughly 

 at home, for his natural habitat is far away in the 

 East, on the borders of the Black and Caspian 

 Seas. Although he has got to be looked upon 

 as almost indigenous, it is most probable that this 

 handsome bird would soon become extinct without 

 man's protection. From the naturalist's point of 

 view, Pheasants are very interesting birds, and I 

 love to watch their ways in the woods. Certainly 

 they are an ornament to the forest, as we catch 

 hurried glimpses of the splendid long-tailed 

 creatures, running timidly along the drives, or 

 rising with a clashing clatter among the under- 

 wood, topping the saplings on whirring wing, and 

 startling us from time to time as they hurry away 

 alarmed at our footsteps on the crumpled leaves, 

 or bramble-laced grass and fern. Then it is most 

 interesting to watch their wiles as they endeavour 

 to elude discovery. Only the other day an 

 instance of this kind came under my notice. I 

 had been listening to the pertinacious crowing of 

 a cock Pheasant amongst a tangled thicket, and 



