228 BIRDS 



liim occasionally, perchance leading his family 

 through the tangled Briar-bush, and preparing 

 them for the long migration journey, but even- 

 tually we lost sight of him and his family, and 

 their departure from the wild greenwood was 

 silent, their going was unseen and unheard. 



The Nightjars which frequented that open tract 

 of country by the big wood every Summer even- 

 ing, and made the whole countryside vibrate 

 with their curious jarring warble — gone are they, 

 but when did they go ? Did they collect together 

 in little companies ready for the journey, or flit 

 off independently of one another, or in pairs, or in 

 family groups, or what ? 



The Terns, which fascinated us with their grace- 

 ful evolutions during the Summer-time, have for- 

 saken their old haunts and have moved onwards. 

 Five species of these most delightful feathered 

 friends breed in our island home, but they are all 

 migrants, and come to us in the Springtime. The 

 pair of Nightingales who never disappoint us in 

 their visit to the thick blossoming thorn-bush in 

 the Summer, were last seen busily engaged feeding 

 their young and uttering a monotonous, complain- 

 ing note, but some little while afterwards the 

 voice ceased, the birds were never seen again, 

 and they have gone. But when did they leave 

 us — by daylight or at nightfall, and how did they 

 go ? Do they perform their journeys bit by bit, 



