1104 



THE NATURE BOOK 



val of about a sixth — ^just such a whistle 

 as one would give to call a dog. 



No less interesting is the silent Tree- 

 creeper as he climbs the boles spirally, 

 searching unerringly every tiny hole for 

 insects, and gi^•ing one the opportunity 

 of noting his dark brown back with pale 

 spots, and the silv-ery under-parts. 



The Finch genus is fairly numerous. 

 A short full whistle reveals the presence 

 of the handsome Bullfinch, which can also 

 be recognised by its heavy lilting flight, 

 and the conspicuous white patch over 

 the tail. The song consists of httle more 

 than the whistle given on two or three 

 notes. The Greenfinch has now put on 

 its brightest attire of yellow and green, 

 and the somewhat coarse " wheeze " 

 which ends its song is heard almost in- 

 cessantly from all parts of the woods. 

 The Chaffinch is more numerous than its 

 relative, and the famihar song, together 

 with the well-known call-notes " pink, 

 pink," meet one at every turn. 



That most interesting nocturnal bird, 

 the Nightjar, finds a good retreat in the 

 woods, for bracken abounds, where he 

 delights to hide during the day. If 

 flushed by anyone, he simply flies a short 

 distance and drops again into the under- 

 growth. He is sometimes discovered 

 lying " along " a branch of a tree, a 

 method of perching peculiar to himself, 

 which serves admirably to hide his iden- 

 tity from the branch itself. At dusk he 

 throws off his lethargy, and becomes ex- 

 tremely active in his pursuit of moths, etc. 



The twofold shout of the Cuckoo is 

 often heard in the woods, although this 

 visitant prefers more open country, flying 

 from tree to tree and frequently " calhng " 

 fctr a mate when doing so. 



Woodpeckers and Jays can always be 

 seen or heard. By stalking the laughing 

 call of the Green Woodpecker, you may 

 get a peep at him as he ascends a tree. 

 The Great Sjiotted Woodpecker also makes 

 his home here, nesting regularly in the 

 woods. 



Gulls and Jackdaws are inseparably 

 associated with the Avon Gorge. Nearly 

 all the former belong to the Black-headed 

 species. They are frequently to be seen 

 in large companies at low tide, walking 

 over the muddy banks and showing plainly 

 their red legs and beautiful plumage. At 



other times they swim on the water 

 as gracefully as ducks. Sometimes, too, 

 they rise together high up over the Gorge, 

 carrying out very remarkable evolutions 

 of a circhng nature and never colhding 

 one with the other. The Daws are seen 

 all the year round, flying to and from 

 the inaccessible rocks on the Clifton side, 

 where they nest, happily and unmolested, 

 in the springtime. 



That graceful and useful bird of prey, 

 the Kestrel, is occasionally seen hovering 

 o^'er the Gorge, giving an opportune 

 moment for looking " down " on his 

 mottled brown plumage as he rises and 

 falls below you. The quivering wings, 

 the inclined head and fan-like tail cannot 

 fail to arrest the attention, and you 

 watch every movement until the Wind- 

 hover returns to the woods. I here 

 wish to urge an earnest plea for the 

 Kestrel and other useful birds of prey. 

 Nature has herself provided these Arabs 

 of the air, and it is to man's advantage 

 that this provision should be respected. 

 Yet how frequently are both Kestrel and 

 Owl — the very best possible friends of 

 farmer and agriculturist — relentlessly 

 trapped and shot for their pains in keep- 

 ing down vermin ! 



Retracing our steps from this ramble 

 in Nature's domain, we linger by the 

 edge of the cliffs near the bridge to 

 enjoy the scene on the CUfton side 

 of the Gorge. A remarkable wealth of 

 arboreal foliage clothes the slopes of 

 the Bridge Valley Road. You listen to 

 the Thrush and Blackbird engaged in 

 a vocal contest for the mastery until the 

 Nightingale defiantly breaks in upon 

 them. The Cuckoo continues to " call " 

 and the Nightjar commences his per- 

 sistent " churring." Willow Wrens warble 

 unceasingly, and nothing seems to repress 

 the trill of the Robin. The Gorge has 

 become shrouded in a mantle of blue. A 

 spring tide fills the Avon. The last Gull 

 is going homewards to the Severn Sea. 

 Later a full moon will rise upon this 

 wondrous scene. Here and now will 

 the Nature lover reahse, if he has not 

 already done so, that the old City of the 

 West possesses a fairyland of natural 

 beauty, pulsating with life, and rich in 

 the mystical music of springtime. 



H. Vicars Webb. 



