EARLY SPRING IN SOUTH DEVON 65 



flowering wild carrot was still out; probably some were 

 survivals from the autumn, and had been flowering all 

 winter. 



Along the Dowlands Landslip, where the whole cliff 

 has moved towards the sea, the laugh of the green wood- 

 pecker resounded again and again. Ancient timbers 

 have suffered from root disturbance, and decay having 

 once set in the insect hordes have hastened to assist in 

 disintegration; the woodpeckers have come to aid the 

 trees, smashing the softened wood with iron bill and 

 dragging out the larvae of the wood-boring Rhagium, 

 of clearwing, goat or wood leopard. The goldcrest, a 

 common resident as well as winter visitor, was singing its 

 simple song, and nomadic flocks searched for tiny insects 

 amongst the opening buds. 



One inhabitant of the Landslip had much in common 

 with the signs of devastation, the deep gashes in the soil, 

 the bent and fallen trees, the great folds of slithering 

 earth; the carrion crow, perched on some tottering tree, 

 uttered his sinister treble croak. The rook has no fixed 

 limit to the number of successive caws, the jackdaw is 

 garrulous, but both carrion and grey crow usually pause 

 after every third call. 



Ring-doves abound on the Landslip, and doubtless 

 some of the birds which cooed incessantly had decided 

 upon nesting quarters ; but elsewhere in the county crowds 

 of pigeons, mostly foreigners, roamed far and wide, 

 laying waste the land. Desperate farmers arranged 

 combined attacks on the birds at roosting time; the 

 Board of Agriculture gave advice; many fell, but many 

 more survived to retire a month later towards our eastern 

 seaboard en route for northern lands. 



At Watcombe ravens were paired and busy; their deep 

 glog was as distinctive as their deliberate and powerful 

 flight. Every day a bird mounted guard, looking sea- 



