144 SCOLOPACID^E. 



the entire flock, which at once rises with that peculiar light- 

 ness and ease so eminently possessed by the curlew, and wing 

 rapidly their flight from the way of danger, each bird utter- 

 ing the loud prolonged " courlieu," or the harsh and guttural 

 " whaup," so indicative of danger, and which is heard so 

 beautifully modulated both by sound and distance. Never to be 

 approached upon an open shore, the only chance possessed by 

 the shooter is by concealment in the vicinity of their flight, 

 or when observed waiting the falling of the tide in fields bor- 

 dering the shore, the proximity of the hedgerow allows an 

 approach to some portion of the flock. 



Much as we admire the wild beauty of its call-note, it is 

 never heard to more advantage than when passing to its 

 feeding stations along the shore at night-time, uttered singly 

 in long echoing whistles, with another occasional call-note 

 more hurried, which serves to bring in stragglers to the main 

 flock. They impart one of the most beautiful of the many 

 attractions which nature has so profusely scattered for our 

 enjoyment. Sometimes also we hear amid the deep silence of 

 the night some old veteran curlew, which has become a very 

 Nestor in its precautions for safety, and its voice a deep bass, 

 from years of constant whauping, utter a long-drawn whistle, 

 so intense in expression, loudness, and solemnity, that even 

 coast-guards stationed in the vicinity have left their domiciles 

 to observe if the sea was burdened with a wreck. Even in 

 our own vicinity, at Rob's Wall, near Malahide, the guard in 

 custody of the Martello Tower represented to us having at 

 times started from his bed to ascertain the cause of such an 

 unearthly whistle : 



" Soothed by the murmurs of the sea-beat shore, 

 His dun-grey plumage floating to the gale, 

 The curlew blends his melancholy wail 

 With those hoarse sounds the rushing waters pour." 



Feeding upon the shore in winter, during autumn the cur- 

 lew lives for a short time upon seeds and berries, so much so 

 that we have had the pleasure of examining, with Mr. Glennon, 

 the stomachs of curlews, on two different occasions, which 

 were entirely filled with blackberries, the action of which had 

 not only discoloured the intestines, but changed the natural 

 colour of the bones to a light purplish hue. 



In some request as food, the curlew is often exposed in the 

 markets, and seldom fails in producing the average value 

 affixed by the old adage upon it : 



" Be she white, or be she black, 

 She carries ten pence on her back." 



