128 THE BIRDS OF OUR RAMBLES. 



to rest a moment on a rough beam which does 

 duty for a foot-bridge. Almost directly a King- 

 fisher flew along the stream towards me, and 

 dropped upon the long bare branch of a sycamore 

 which grew above a pool. How brightly his 

 plumage shone in the gloom of the archingbranches. 

 how sharply defined his reflection in the still, clear 

 water ! Soon he dropped with a splash into the 

 stream, and the minnow he had caught struggled 

 for its life as the bird flew away down-stream with 

 his victim. Three times was this operation re- 

 peated from the self-same branch within half an 

 hour, and then, his appetite apparently satisfied, 

 he flew under the bridge on which I was standing 

 away up the stream, and I saw him no more. It 

 is such little incidents as these that endow Orni- 

 thology with its greatest charm. The Kingfisher 

 is a resident in our islands, but the naturalist will 

 note that its numbers are increased in autumn 

 by birds from more northern latitudes. Small fish 

 and various insects and mollusks inhabiting the 

 water are the food of this species. Kingfishers 

 pair for life, and return year by year to the old 

 nesting-place. This is in a hole in the banks of 

 the stream, either one made by the birds them- 

 selves or the old burrow of a rat. At the end of 

 this tunnel the eggs are laid on a platform of fish- 

 bones, often surrounded by a mass of putrid fish. 

 From such a filthy hole we should scarcely expect 

 to take eight such spotless, glossy white eggs 

 (they are a delicate pink before blowing), but 

 such is the case, although how they escape be- 

 coming as dirty as the eggs of the Gannet or 

 the Grebe is a mystery. 



Two species of Warbler are also closely 



