46 BIRD HAUNTS AND NATURE MEMORIES 



Birds come and go ; the watcher can never guess what 

 he may see any morning, nor how many thousands have 

 drifted by during the night unseen, unheard. The grey 

 geese, in small skeins, passed at sea; ducks of many kinds 

 floated by, or took nights close to the water; the first 

 of the Brent geese was spotted by three or four gunners, 

 but was intercepted on a water hole by one of the oldest 

 inhabitants and his ancient muzzle-loader. On dark or 

 foggy nights the southward flight of many individuals 

 is checked by the dazzling rays from the lighthouse; 

 even in November the list of casualties may number two or 

 three hundred birds of a dozen different species; before 

 me is one night's report when knots, redwings, fieldfares, 

 blackbirds, starlings, lapwings, golden plovers, a rail, 

 and a goldcrest struck in a fog. But the numbers slain 

 at the lantern are as nothing when compared with the 

 disaster caused by strong contrary winds. Dead gold- 

 crests on the tide line were far too common, and some 

 even reached land safely and perished from fatigue; it 

 was almost possible to pick them from the bushes and 

 marram when they first reached land. 



Fatal, too, are the wires which run along the ridge. 

 After a big arrival of knots we enjoyed knot pie, all our 

 victims being unfortunates which were running about 

 the sand and road with broken wings or other injuries. 

 With a wind behind them birds would strike so violently 

 that a wing would be torn off or both legs shattered; it 

 was a kindness to end their pain, though the attendant 

 hawks and the hooded crows did not leave them neglected 

 for long. 



