The Bird Book 



flight, calling plaintively and using every en- 

 deavour to attract your attention from their eggs. 

 They settle near by, and rise again with ostenta- 

 tious swishing of wings, pretending that they have 

 just left their nests, and afford ample opportunity 

 for observing their green backs with purplish-red 

 reflections, their white breast with its black gorget, 

 and their long, up-turned crests. 



The falcon of the moors is the Merlin, who 

 delights in the wide open spaces, where he can 

 chase down his quarry, be it Thrush, Lark, or 

 Twite. The female bird is rather larger, able to 

 strike down a Plover or Pigeon, and is easily dis- 

 dinguished by her brown plumage, for that of the 

 male is slaty-blue above. In this feature they 

 resemble the Sparrow Hawk and Harriers, and 

 like the latter, nest upon the ground among the 

 heather. From three to five eggs are laid 

 creamy-white, but so thickly blotched over with 

 dark reddish-brown, that little of the ground colour 

 is visible, and so closely resembling the darker 

 varieties of Kestrels' eggs that it would be im- 

 possible to distinguish them, apart from the situa- 

 tion of the nest and the appearance of the birds. 



It is rather curious that a general migration 

 should take place from the moorlands to the sea- 

 shore in the winter, yet so it is, and the Merlin is 

 no exception. There he may then be seen raiding 

 the flocks of Dunlin, and thither we must follow 

 him. 



