199 



ORNITHOLOGICAL NOTES 

 FROM THE HUMBER DISTRICT, MAY 1890. 



JOHN CORDEAUX, M.B.O.U. 

 Great Cotes, Ulcehy, Lincolnshirf. 



Merlin {Falco ccsa/on). May loth. When taking nests of the 

 Carrion Crow {Corvi/s corone) in the plantations and hedge-row 

 timber to-day, we disturbed a MerHn, sitting on eggs in the old 

 nest of a Crow, placed at the very top of a tall straight oak 

 growing in an ash-holt, which stands on the edge of the marshes. 

 Subsequently I watched for some time through the glass at 

 half gunshot, the old male sitting on a tree-top near the nest. 

 From the very retired position of the plantation I had good 

 hopes that the young might be brought off, but this was not the 

 case, for on returning a few days later, the tree had been 

 climbed and the nest plundered. 



Grey Plover and Dunlin. May 13th, N., slight. The beach 

 at high water near Kilnsea Warren this morning was lined with 

 countless waders — hundreds of Grey Plovers {Squataroia hel- 

 vetica) and thousands of Dunlin {Tringa alpina), all in summer 

 plumage. They were very restless, flying out to sea. A constant 

 stream of drifting birds filled the field of my large telescope as 

 long as I could hold it out. When the flights turned once 

 more to the coast, the Grey Plover looked very much like 

 floating discs — white above and black below — moving noise- 

 lessly down upon me. Later in the day as the tide receded, 

 there was abundant opportunity to watch the waders through 

 a glass as they sat grouped along the coast — the Dunlins so 

 closely packed that they resembled sheets of brown velvet, 

 with some sort of a grey pattern worked over them. One large 

 flock of Grey Plover at rest, were very difficult to pick out 

 individually, so nearly did they assimilate with the back-ground, 

 a bank of rough shingle. All the flocks of Grey Plover were 

 associated with Dunlins, but the two species were seldom 

 actually mixed ; where the one ended, the other commenced. 

 I think most' of this large assembly took their departure either 

 that night or early in the morning, for I saw comparatively few 

 after this. On the 15th the wind was west and squally, and 

 I found nothing except a few noisy Turnstone and stray 

 Whimbrel. This was a regular spring day — a play of sunshine 

 and showers, with a rain-swept plain of cold grey water, trans- 

 formed in a few seconds into glimmering sheets and shifting 



July 1890. 



