156 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
surprised at the length of time she remained away from the nest, 
and fully expected the eggs would be addled, but she hatched off 
safely. This year she sat so close that, for so shy a bird, I could 
not have credited it had I not been a witness of it. She would 
allow me to fire off my gun beneath the tree without quitting the 
nest. I had been constantly shooting Sparrows for some time 
before I noticed this. Twice these Missel Thrushes have reared 
two broods in the same nest. There are three or four trees in 
which they invariably build, but very seldom nest two years in the 
same tree. Only one pair returns each year. 
A male Shoveller and a male Teal were seen on the river on 
May 2Ist, which looked as if the ducks of each species were sitting 
somewhere in the neighbourhood. 
In the “carrs” near the river, about six miles from Beverley, 
two pairs of Redshanks were nesting, for the first time, to my know- 
ledge, on May 24th. No doubt the swampy nature of the ground 
from the recent floods had invited them to remain. The actions of 
these birds were very interesting and new to me. They toyed 
about a long time and were very noisy; one of them alighted on 
some posts and rails near me, whistling and making a chatting 
noise like the word “chick, chick, chick, chick,” repeated any 
number of times. Presently it rose on the wing and flew a little 
way, gave a few very rapid vibrations of its wings, then held them 
pointed downwards in a peculiar manner, reminding one of the 
Common Sandpiper as it skims along a drain, or a butterfly that 
has been nipped the wrong way in the net. Every now and again 
it would return and go through the same performances. A Dunlin 
in full summer plumage, on the river the same day, was probably 
on its way to its breeding haunts. 
On May 27th four young Redshanks, a few days old, were found, 
and I regret to say the old female, after five or six unsuccessful 
shots, was killed, on one of our commons called Swinemoor. This 
common lies very low, and was once a swampy morass where the 
Bittern and Redshank held their sway: it is now drained and made 
into a pasture for cattle and a so-called “recreation ground” for 
the people. [We regret to learn that the Wild Birds Protection 
Act is not more respected there. A momentary consideration ought 
to convince the shooter that a nesting bird is as useless for the 
table as, from its ragged state of plumage at this season, it must be 
to the collector.—Eb. | 
