THE ZooLoGIsT—FEBRUARY, 1872. 2919 
December 8th. A dull, disagreeable morning, with a strong 
breeze from the south-east. Started by the ten o’clock train for 
Instow, from whence I crossed by boat to Braunton Burrows. On 
arriving near the spot where on a former occasion I procured a 
Richard’s pipit, I kept a sharp look-out, and had not proceeded 
very far through a dense bed of sea-rushes before I heard the 
unmistakable note of the species. It was close at hand, and in a 
moment or two I flushed it. It flew a short distance, and alighted 
on an open spot, where I shotit. It proved to be a larger example 
than the two previously obtained, and in slightly better plumage. 
This bird is becoming tolerably common in England. I have 
little doubt many more might be found at Braunton, and should 
not be surprised to hear it has been discovered breeding there. 
December 24th. A blackthroated diver fired at to-day conducted 
itself in an extraordinary manner. When first seen it was floating 
on the water, about forty yards from the embankment behind 
which my father and I were stalking, and seemed to be basking 
in the bright sunshine. When we showed our heads above the 
bank, the bird, which when previously seen was broadside towards 
us, had faced round, and did not afford such a fair shot as it 
would have done had it remained in the same position. I fired 
and it immediately dived, but instead of reappearing, as one would 
have imagined, a greater distance off, it suddenly rose close to 
us, thrust its neck forward in a plane with the surface of 
the water, and uttered several prolonged melancholy cries. We 
both of us fired this time, and it again dived, but not so 
quickly as on the first occasion, and when it next came to 
the surface it was out of range, and evidently mortally wounded 
as it floated down with the current, frequently repeating that 
peculiarly mournful cry, and when last seen was apparently 
dead. Both my father and myself have often fired at these birds 
but cannot remember having heard one give utterance to any 
sort of cry. 
Last month a woodcock having white wings was shot in a 
covert in the neighbourhood of Bideford. This bird, or one like 
it, had frequented the same locality for five successive seasons, 
but was so wary that no one could shoot it, although many attempts 
were made. 
