The Zoologist— April, 1866. 183 



Feeling that there was little to be learned from one who had so high 

 an opinion of his own knowledge, I pursued my course to the north- 

 western portion of the island. Four pairs of terns and one single bird, 

 probably the mate of the one just shot, hovered over our heads ; we 

 soon found two nests, and on handling the eggs their anxiety and 

 cries redoubled, coming so close that I had no difficulty in making out 

 with my glass that they were all of the same species. On shooting one 

 of these birds, it proved to be an arctic tern, and as during a stay of 

 several hours we saw no others, I think I may consider these eggs as 

 well identified. 



Comforting myself with the hope that I should find the roseate tern 

 at the Fame Islands, I left the Lancashire coast, and directed my 

 steps to a valley in the Lake district, where, "from inlbrmation I had 

 received," 1 hoped to find the common buzzard still breeding, for 

 although too late for eggs, yet in these days of strict game-preserving 

 it is something even to see a large bird of prey in its native haunts. 

 Arrived at the locality, we were informed by a guide well acquainted 

 with the haunts of this bird, that there was certainly one if not two 

 pairs in his district, and on the following day we set out for a campaign 

 against the buzzards first and the dotterell on the fells afterwards — I 

 confess with slender hopes of success. 



Crossing a small stream in the valley our eyes were gladdened with 

 the sight of that peculiarly north-country bird the gray wagtail {Mota- 

 cilla boantla) which doubtless had a nest near, but impatience for 

 higher game prevented our slopping to search for it. More than one 

 crag was pointed out by our guide where the ravens were accustomed 

 to build, and one where the peregrine falcon had an eyrie until quite 

 lately. We soon got among the crags ; old Isaac had just pointed out 

 a mere bush where he had taken a nest of the carrion crow that same 

 year, and we were making our way to what might by comparison be 

 called a tree, in which a large nest was visible, when a wild " whew " 

 resounded through the glen. In a few seconds our guide exclaimed, 

 " I see him," and sure enough a pair of buzzards were sailing over the 

 valley, one of them so near that we could distinguish the white in the 

 wings. To my unpractised eye they seemed to exhibit a partiality 

 for the opposite crags, but our guide assured me that their nest was on 

 our side, so we began a rigorous examination of every crag capable of 

 holding a nest. In a short time one was descried — a great mass of 

 sticks almost as big as a cart-wheel and at least afoot thick, the accu- 

 mulation of several seasons. I soon set foot in my first buzzard's nest ; 



