on the Nesting of the Crested Latk.



275



much to recommend it. It is extremely hardy and takes kindly

either to a cage or an aviary. Unlike our Skylark, the males of

which species are absolutely intolerable in the breeding season,

the Carretera is at all times extremely peaceable and inoffensive.

I have watched it closely when rearing its young this summer

and have been much impressed by the fact that, despite its bulk

and powerful beak, it would allow any other bird— even a pair of

Woodlarks— to approach its nest. Moreover it is a bird which

shows itself freely in fin aviary, spending much of its time on the

wing and perching boldly even on slender twigs. Though never

becoming very familiar it does not possess that most annoying

habit — so common among the harks — of going up, when flushed,

like a sky-rocket into the zenith and for this reason its long,

silky crest, of which it is evidently very proud, is generally

intact.


But the greatest attraction of this species I have kept to

the last — its gift of song — and I lay special emphasis on this

because I think I might almost claim to have discovered the

Carretera as a song-bird. Its biographers have told 11s much

about its habits and appearance but of its song they have either

said nothing or have even spoken slightingly. In a sense they

have been right in their estimate for its ordinary song is not

remarkable and is often marred by discords, but they seem to

have entirely overlooked the fact that this bird possesses fin

unrivalled latent gift of mimicry. Some half-dozen years since

I spent a considerable time trying to discover the identity ol an

unknown songster in one of my aviaries. The song would

commence with a plaintive warbling, soft and sweet as the breath

of spring; then the pitch would rise and one would distinctly

detect the silvery notes of the Blackcap; then it would fall and

would merge into the mellow lay of a Garden Warbler, changing

in a single instant to the bubbling strain of the Starling. Over

and over again I stalked the singer but always with the same result

— the instant cessation of the song. At last one day through a

screen of leaves I saw a swelling throat and a sandy tail all

a-quiver : it was a Carretera perched in an apple-tree. Not all

Crested Larks sing as well as that one but all will show some

talent, if caged separately, and I have one now, for which a



