Birds. 9245 
Buzzard. One afternoon, during a stroll along the south shore, I saw 
a large hawk gliding along the face of the cliff. It came right over me 
at the distance of about forty yards. From its flight and colour [ 
have no doubt it was a buzzard, and probably, from its general light 
appearance, Buteo lagopus. 
Wheatear. Common. In my rambles on the cliff-tops constantly 
saw this lively little bird flitting along from buttress to buttress of the 
great broken masses of boulder clay which cap the chalk cliffs. 
Rock Pipit. Numerous, more particularly along the south cliffs, 
Here the sea leaves, at low water, a narrow beach of rock and shingle 
covered with the common bladder-weed. This was a favourite haunt 
of the pipit, and they might be seen, several together, searching busily 
amongst the mass of sea-weed for marine insects. 
Jackdaw. Numerous. Breeds in holes near the cliff-top. I saw 
two young birds, hardly yet able to fly, on a narrow ledge of rock in 
close vicinity to some guillemots. The jackdaws are said to commit 
great havoc amongst the eggs of the sea-fowl. 
Sand Martin. Common. Several colonies of sand martins exist on 
the coast: there is a considerable one in an almost inaccessible posi- 
tion near the south landing. ‘The holes are bored in a narrow band of 
sand between the chalk and boulder clay. 
Rock Pigeon. Breed in considerable numbers in the sea-caves at 
the base of the cliffs. At this season they go far inland to feed, 
returning in the evening to their cotes in the cliff. As they dash 
rapidly out of these caves on the passing of a boat, they offer a very 
difficult mark to the roving gunners, and are seldom killed. By being 
often shot at they have become very shy and wary, and dash out of 
the crevices, and away over the cliff-tops, on the least noise made by 
approaching boats. In extremely severe seasons they will resort for 
a time to the dove-cotes in the neighbourhood, and feed in company 
with the domestic bird. 
Sanderling. Five or six seen. 
Oystercatcher. Several flocks arrived on the Flamborough coast 
during the last week in July. I saw one numbering sixteen and 
another nineteen birds. In walking home late one evening along the 
south coast, at low-water, I heard the shrill whistle of the oyster- 
catchers as they rose from their feeding-grounds on the mussel beds, 
near the shore, long after it was too dark to see the birds. 
Whimbrel. Three seen. A few of these birds (July. 26th) have 
already arrived on the coast. 
Redshank. Shot one, in full summer plumage, near the south 
