ORNITHOLOGICAL RAMBLES. 121 



severely shattered by the charge. Close by, and 

 snugly shaded by the branching fern, lay her flat but 

 slightly-hollowed nest, built of dead sticks and dry 

 coarse-grass, and containing five eggs.* I saw no 

 appearance of the male bird, though I watched and 

 waited some time. I now elicited from my guide that 

 another of these birds continually haunted the neigh- 

 bourhood of a burn, about a mile to the southward. I 

 at once set off enlivened with success, and, as we 

 approached the course of the said rivulet, the worn and 

 sunken bed of which, walled in, as it were, by its pre- 

 cipitous banks, was almost screened from view by the 

 luxuriance of the heather on either side, an exclamation 

 from the herd-boy arrested my attention, as he pointed 

 to a small black speck, a long distance ahead, circling 

 and hunting about in a hawk-like manner. " There 

 he is, sir !" he remarked ; and I paused a considerable 

 time to enjoy the interesting spectacle of a bird of the 

 owl kind busily engaged in seeking its prey in the 

 broad bright daylight. 



Crouching low in the bosky heather, I waited in 

 delusive expectation that in one of his widening and 

 varied flights he would approach within shot. This 

 manoeuvre proved of no service, and as I soon perceived 

 that his evolutions were confined to a limited area, I 



* " The eggs of this bird," says Yarrell, " seldom exceed 

 three in number." 



