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On the Yellow Wagtail.



their North African winter quarters in the next spring. But as fate

would have it, I was obliged to see that spring and summer go by

without result, and during the dull days of winter I forgot them

altogether. With the welcome song of Willow Wren, White-throat

and Cuckoo in the following April the Yellow Wagtails came back

to memory, and towards the end of that month I set off to the

rough meadows by the stream to find them. I was soon greeted by

a slightly drawn-out high cry “ Wheet,” and a Yellow Wagtail

alighted upon a fence near by with material for nesting purposes.

After watching both birds visit a particular spot a few times, I went

and found they were busy making their home cosy with a lining of

horsehair, both birds meanwhile hovering overhead uttering a

repeated anxious cry of “ Wheesit,” “ Wheesit.” Apparently the

nest would be ready for eggs in about two days’ time, and being

thus satisfied with my mission I returned home. My next visit was

early in May ; the nest then contained four eggs indistinctly spotted

over with ash-grey spots on a dirty white background, and five

ultimately made the full clutch. Some bitterly cold weather whilst

incubation was in progress reduced the number of fertile eggs to

three, which had hatched out three or four days previously to my

going over with a camera and “hiding” on the 19th of May. As

the weather conditions were favourable I commenced work at once.

The hiding ” was erected barely four feet in height about twelve

feet from the nest, and then from a distance, by the aid of my field

glasses, I watched the birds frequently go to the nest. Being thus

assured they were not alarmed at the strange object, I left the

immediate neighbourhood. Returning in a few hours I slipped into

the hiding and hitched it up by degrees from the inside during the

birds’ absence until I got it within workable distance. I found the

Wagtails uncommonly indifferent to any little sound proceeding from

the tent, and the parent birds sat alternately quite unconcernedly on

the nest whilst I arranged the camera, taking of course all care to

work as quietly as possible. The hen Yellow Wagtail often retired

to a favourite spot a yard or so from the nest for a moment’s pause

in the arduous task of foraging for the family, and here her actions

were interesting. Should a fly venture near she would crouch low

like a cat getting ready for a spring, then, at the opportune moment’



