150 THE RINGDOVE. 



it. There is something, too, peculiarly singular in 

 the locality of some of the nests. While one is seen 

 placed nearly on the topmost branches of the lofty 

 sycamore, another may be found within four feet of 

 the ground, in the humble shelter of the hedge-row 

 bush. Last year, I found a ringdove sitting on one 

 egg, in a magpie's nest of the year gone by ; and I 

 observed another ringdove, rearing two young ones 

 in a spruce fir tree, below that of a magpie, out of 

 which I had taken seven eggs, and substituted five 

 of a jackdaw in their place. It was interesting to 

 see these two species of birds, one so calm and 

 gentle, the other so pert and roguish, thus close to 

 each other, at so critical a juncture. While I was 

 observing them, I felt convinced that there are cer- 

 tain times in which birds are not so bent on plunder 

 as we would fain suppose they are; and, moreover 

 that they can frequent each other's company in 

 perfect peace and quiet. In this instance it appears 

 that instinct showed the ringdove how to preserve 

 her eggs from being plundered by her crafty neigh- 

 bour, who, according to our own short-sighted view 

 of ornithological economy, would have been apt to 

 make free with them at the earliest call of hunger. 

 The ringdove had settled there with her eyes open 

 to her supposed danger; for the magpie was the 

 first to get possession of the tree. 



I had but a faint idea of the habits of the ring- 

 dove until I had offered it an undisturbed asylum in 

 this " valley free." Its movements are remarkably 

 periodical. In mild winters, or, more properly 

 speaking, in winters of short continuance, it makes 



