Ornithological Observations and Reflections in Shetland. 295 



more nearly so. What it is they pick up off the wet sand, as 

 they appear to do — something — continually, it is difficult to 

 make out, except that it is very minute. After-examination of 

 the spot detects nothing, nor do the glasses reveal anything 

 held in the bill. The sand is covered with the castings of 

 sea-worms, and, every now and again, one of these creatures 

 shoots up a miniature geysir, from his burrow which causes a 

 mild degree of surprise, sometimes, in a bird that happens to 

 be near it. But in sea- worms the Ring Plover does not seem 

 interested. He pecks and pecks up, elsewhere, where there 

 seems to be nothing, and it is nothing that he would seem to 

 get, though doubtless, he knows his own affairs. The little 

 piping note that these birds make, along the shore, is like 

 " piffany, piffany, piffany, piffany," or " tiffany, tiffany, 

 tiffany, tiffany," or " tiffany, piffany, piffany, tiffany,' — for 

 now it sounds like one, and now the other. They also cry, 

 dwelling more than we do on the last syllable : ' Cheery, 

 cheery, cheery, cheery,' and all their ways and actions are an 

 eloquent discourse on this theme. 



A Starling perched on a lamb's back, but he soon flies off 

 it, on to the ground, near one of its feet. But he does not search 

 the foot, and is soon feeding, with another Starling, farther 

 off. The little flock, on the sheep, the other daj^ never 

 searched or pecked into its wool — did not seem to think of it. 

 They certainly^ I think, use the sheep as perches merely — often 

 at least — and may like their warm wool. On the occasion 

 referred to, it was towards evening, and the Starlings were on 

 their way to roost, I think. Sheep and cows, here, take, for 

 the Starlings, the place of trees or bushes, elsewhere. They 

 may search them, too, sometimes. Certainly they would, one 

 would think, being there, if it were worth their while — but 

 that is the point. They come down on to the rocks, now, and 

 search the seaweed, but not very profoundly, uttering their 

 pleasant sing-song, the while. 



Have just seen a Herring Gull attacked by a Shag. I was 

 watching the Shag, as it swam, through the glasses, and, out 

 of the corner of them, caught sight of the Herring Gull, not 

 far off it. Just as I did so, the Shag dived, and coming up, 

 near the intruder (so considered), passed towards him over the 

 water, snapping his bill. As he arrived, the Herring Gull 

 flew a little way, and came down on the water, again, whether 

 after receiving a bite or two — for that, with his hooked bill, 

 was the Shag's method — I cannot say, but think he just avoided 

 this. The Shag then dived again, and, a moment or two 

 afterwards, the Gull uttered a sudden, short cry, evidently of 

 pain, and flew right away. As he rose, so did the Shag, just 

 beneath him. This time he had exactly measured the distance, 

 and attacked the Gull from below. No doubt, though this 



1918 Sept- 1 



