404 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
Farther on, in a high beech-tree, is a broad flat nest, which, 
by the fluttering rags we recognise as that of the Kite (Kénigs- 
gabelweihe), and, indeed, a couple of these scavengers are now 
approaching, carrying rags, with which to line their nest. More 
of a thief than a robber, the Kite is little feared by other birds ; 
and in the dry branches of an oak-tree close by we hear a Wood 
Pigeon (Holztaube) cooing softly to his mate, whose long absence - 
has made her anxious; while ‘‘ Master Carpenter” (Woodpecker) 
is busy in the same tree building for himself and his family. 
The same duties are being performed in a very artistic manner 
by the kindred families of Finches (Finken) and Titmice (Meisen). 
A Great Titmouse (Kohlmeise) already sits assiduously on twelve 
eggs; one can hardly comprehend how a pair of such small birds 
are afterwards able to feed so many hungry bills. 
From a neighbouring brook a little party of Green Sandpipers 
(Schwalbenschnepfen) announce their arrival with sharp notes. 
Quick as lightning they circle through the trees, searching for the 
last year’s nests of Thrushes (Drosseln), and Jays (Heher), as a 
foundation for their own. 
Storks, both black and white, and all the Heron family 
(Reiher), have arrived, and with renewed strength recommence 
their struggle with every living thing that they can subdue. 
Screened by the trees we quietly watch a couple of Cranes 
(Kranich). With half-open wings, and curious springs and turns, 
the male bird dances round his mate, calling tenderly to her 
the while. 
The marsh leads into a large meadow, which in turn stretches 
down toa lake. Scarcely have we entered the marsh when a watch- 
ful Plover rises from the grass and warns the sitting birds of the 
approach of danger. The hen Plover (Kiebitz) runs quickly through 
the grass, then rising at some distance endeavours with her mate 
to allure the intruder from the neighbourhood of the nest by 
anxious cries and odd mancuvres; now they dart towards us as 
if they were going to attack us with their beaks, or tumble side- 
ways as if with broken wing; then they run on some distance, 
and rise again to recommence their play until we have safely passed 
their nest. From this curious behaviour those who look for 
Plover’s eggs can tell with exactitude where the nests are, and 
whether they contain newly-laid eggs or young birds. Not less 
loudly than the cry of the Plover sounds the clear whistling 
