COMMON STARLING. 159 



reappeared the following year, and took possession of another hole 

 in an adjoining tree, where they brought up four young ones, 

 which were stung to death by a swarm of bees that happened to 

 settle in the hole. The old birds, after a few days' wailing, dis- 

 appeared in their sorrow, and did not return. 



In the Outer Hebrides, where there are no trees, the Starling 

 breeds under stones on the beach, in turf dykes, and deserted rat 

 holes. In other places I have seen them take possession of holes 

 in rough stone fences in the immediate vicinity of water. On the 

 river Clyde, where the sailing channel is indicated by barrel-shaped 

 beacons, I have found thousands of Starlings roosting at nightfall. 

 By rowing up to one of these hollow perches, and tapping it with an 

 oar, I have been diverted with the screaming uproar which ensued, 

 and the ludicrous celerity with which the birds made their exit by 

 the bunghole. A few years ago I witnessed a curious scene one 

 summer evening at a country church as I sat watching the 

 lengthening shadows of tower and tombstone. The quiet sexton, 

 with whom I had, half-an-hour previously, been in conversation, 

 left off work unobserved, and entered the tower to ring out his 

 nightly chimes. Suddenly the bell began to toll, and in another 

 moment hundreds of screaming Starlings issued from the crevices 

 and the corners of the church and its gilded spire. Shadowy 

 swifts glanced from under the eaves in alarming haste, returning 

 again and again to the tower, and screaming as they passed; pert 

 jackdaws, troubled sparrows, and bewildered pigeons all joined in 

 the general outpouring, until the clamour and disturbance had 

 cleared out the occupants. As soon as the ringing ceased, the birds 

 returned to their holes: in a minute all was hushed; and as the 

 shadows deepened over the trees and surrounding tombs, the great 

 silence which then prevailed seemed to deny the presence of so 

 many creatures of life. 



The Starling feeds chiefly upon small land shells and beetles. 

 Any specimens that I have examined of late years had their 

 stomachs filled with minute shells, mostly belonging to the genera 

 Helix and Clausilia. At Dunbar I have noticed that great numbers 

 resort to the dried heaps of seaweed the cast-up mounds of winter 

 storms in which they find and feed upon an abundant supply of 

 maggots. I have also seen flocks alight on the rocks and diligently 

 examine the crevices for prey, in procuring which in such situations 

 their wedged-shaped bills seem fitting instruments. In pasture 



