190 The Secret Flight 



ways of finches and warblers, and penetrate the 

 perplexing disguises of moulting adult plumage 

 and the first dress of the young. Birds are never 

 so confusing to the eye as in late July and August. 

 Those slender yellowish birds slipping silently 

 among the currant bushes are young willow-wrens ; 

 a few weeks ago we saw them as downy atoms in 

 the nest, and we may not catch sight of them again 

 till they return in the familiar olive dress in early 

 April. A harsh repeated call in the hawthorns at 

 length challenges us to see what bird jars so mono- 

 tonously on the August calm. The cry proves to 

 be uttered alternately by two young bullfinches, 

 keeping in touch by these untuneful signals ; they 

 wear an unfamiliar dress of dingy greenish brown, 

 and but for their beaks and the characteristic white 

 patch on the back would be hardly recognizable. 

 These elusive phases of August life speak strongly 

 of passing immaturity and the coming of stormy 

 change. 



In the wider fields outside, the change to autumn 

 restlessness is more marked. For a month past the 

 peewits have stopped screaming above the meadows 

 where their young were hidden ; and now, with 

 their flight feathers gained, the young have left the 

 glossy cover of the marsh marigold leaves and form 

 with their parents a troop of lapwings in the sky. 

 Jackdaws and starlings feed in flocks in the pastures, 

 and wood-pigeons begin to form small parties 

 distantly foreshadowing their great winter packs. 

 The unit of every bird-flock is a single family party ; 

 and in early August we can see the first aggregation 



