26



Capt. Bernard E. Potter,



cooing. They arrived in flocks, but quickly paired, and now one

sees the newly fledged young. I have never yet seen a Quist, or

wood-pigeon, out here. Early in the year one can observe flocks

of blue pigeons with no ring on the neck. These I have thought

must be stock-doves ; they are not rock-pigeons.


The ring-doves —our domestic kind — are common in Salonika,

and take the place of our London pigeons.


This morning, while out to put up notice boards indicating

our advanced dressing-station, I stopped to watch some gunners

fire cordite from their rifles into a stream to stun and catch fish

for culinary purposes. A good basketful was being obtained. But

during this I heard a note which has haunted me in Macedonia. The

sound was an oft-repeated “ cuckoo ” and “ cuckookoe.” This is a

monotone, and not the major, or even minor third of the cuckoo’s

song. Sometimes I had thought this was a dove’s note. It w 7 as a

naturalist’s delight to unravel the mystery and to spot the bird, only

30 yards away, on the bough of a dead stunted tree—a fine hoopoe.*

I turned my field-glasses upon him, and let the gunner fishermen

enjoy the sight too. Even the most unemotional must like to watch

so quaint a bird with so rich a colouring, with its fine, long, black,

delicately curved bill; its buff head, with two black bars separated

by white upon the crown ; and the long thick crest of black with

white bar. During its song the neck would swell up to resemble a

goitre. Erom time to time it changed its position, and in flight the

black and white barred plumage shows to perfection. In profile the

short legs look comical. The length of the bill is especially notice¬

able when used for preening the feathers.


At this same spot in the stream I heard the muffled croak of

a large green frog, which I saw in the rushes. Only a few moments

later did I discover that a water-snake— a variety with yellow bands

along the sides and black under parts— had seized the frog, whose

plaintive cries died away as it was slowly engulfed. The distended,

flattened head of the snake looked terrifying.


On April 10th, when searching a marsh for the whereabouts

of larvae of the perilous anopheles mosquito, a bittern flew up and



* [The Hoopoe’s note to us seems more like “ Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!” repeated rather

rapidly.—E d.]



