

THE ASIATIC STEPPES AND THEIR FAUNA. 105 



the lesser white-throat chatters, the white-throat and the barred 

 warbler sing their familiar songs. 



When we traverse the dry stretches of the steppes we see an- 

 other aspect of animal life. Again it is the bird-life which first 

 claims attention. At least six, and perhaps eight species of larks 

 inhabit the steppes, and give life to even the dreariest regions. 

 Uninterruptedly does their song fall on the traveller's ear; from 

 the ground and from the tops of the small bushes it rises; from 

 morning to evening the rich melody is poured forth from the sky. 

 It seems to be only one song which one hears, for the polyphonous 

 calandra lark takes the strophes of our sky -lark and of the white- 

 winged lark and combines them with its own, nor despises certain 

 notes of the black lark, the red lark, and the short-toed lark, but 

 blends all the single songs with its own, yet without drowning the 

 song of its relatives, no matter how loudly it may pour forth its 

 own and its borrowed melodies. When, in spring, we listen enrap- 

 tured to our own sky-larks in the meadows, and note how one sweet 

 singer starts up after another in untiring sequence, heralding the 

 spring with inspired and inspiring song, we hardly fancy that all 

 that we can hear at home is surpassed a hundredfold on the steppes. 

 Yet so it is, for here is the true home of the larks; one pair close 

 beside another, one species and then another, or different kinds living 

 together, and in such numbers that the broad steppes seem to have 

 scarce room enough to hold them all. But the larks are not the 

 only inhabitants of these regions. For proportionately numerous 

 are the lark's worst enemies, full of menace to the dearly loved 

 young brood the harriers, characteristic birds of the steppes. 

 Whatever region we visit we are sure to see one or another of 

 these birds of prey, in the north Montagu's harrier, in the south 

 the steppe-harrier, hurrying over his province, sweeping along near 

 the ground in wavy, vacillating flight. Not unfrequently, over a 

 broad hollow, four, six, eight or more may be seen at once absorbed 

 in the chase. Even more abundant, but not quite so widely dis- 

 tributed, are two other children of the steppes, almost identical in 

 nature and habits, and vieing with one another in beauty, grace of 

 form, and vigour of movement, the lesser kestrel and the red-footed 



