The Zoologist — November, 1874. 4221 



through the marshes, I suddenly observed a pair of phalaropes close 

 together near the bank, partly concealed by the marsh marigolds, and never 

 for a moment at rest, now swimming rapidly out with a pretty noddiu<y 

 motion of the head, and next moment threading their way among the tall 

 stems of Equisetum, occasionally darting forward to pick some floating 

 particle of food from the surface. Thinking to obtain them both, I fired. 

 One, the female, fell over dead, the other fluttered to the land, as I thought, 

 mortally wounded. So heavy was its flight that my companion immediately 

 gave chase, making sure that he should catch it with ease. He pursued it 

 for a considerable distance over the grass, more than once nearly getting 

 his hands upon it, when suddenly, to his dismay as well as my own, it rose 

 and flew vigorously towards the loch, where it went quietly down among 

 the thick herbage and was lost to us." — P. 916. 



Edward Newman. 



(To be continued.) 



Notes from Castle Eden. By Mr. John Sclater. 



(Continued from Zool. S. S. 4070.) 



June, 1874. 



A hen pheasant was seen carrying a bird in her mouth, sometimes 

 laying it down and pecking it; she had left off before I could 

 witness it, but on going to the place as directed I found it was a 

 hen sparrow newly killed. 



Blackbirds and thrushes are suffering severely from the drought ; 

 they are so weak that the high wind of the 11th instant killed a 

 great many full-fledged young by blowing them about : they all 

 have the same puffed-out, starved appearance as in hard winter 

 weather. In the woods, where the oaks are being felled and 

 barked, the thrushes that have young to feed may be seen hopping 

 and running amongst the work-people's feet, on the look-out for 

 worms, &c. ; they can hardly be made to take wing. Both species 

 are particularly numerous this season, principally owing to the 

 ambiguity of the Wild Birds Protection Act to the boys in this 

 dark region. 



There are perhaps few readers of the ' Zoologist' who have not 

 seen the awkward, clumsy chase of the sparrow after the cabbage- 

 butterfly, showing how ill adapted that bird is for such pursuits. 

 The other day I saw the most laughable instance of this kind 

 1 ever met with — a pair of sparrows trying to capture a rather 



second series — VOL, IX. 3 H 



