confined to these localities, as I have found it in all suit- 
able places on the shores of that sea, from the eastern 
face of the Rock of Gibraltar to the promontory of 
Akroteri in Cyprus. On the coast of Sardinia and its 
adjacent islets the Rock-Dove is especially abundant, 
and affords very pretty shooting from a boat. The 
so-called “Blue Rock” of the dealers im Pigeons at 
home is, if full-winged and vigorous, not, as I am 
informed, “everybody's money” when liberated from 
the traps at a fair distance. I cannot write on this 
subject from personal knowledge, as the idea of shooting 
at a bird that has been in captivity has always been 
repugnant to me, but I can assure my readers that the 
killing of wild Rock-Doves from a boat rocking on a 
heaving sea, as they dart out of their caves, often almost 
into the gunner’s face, is by no means a contemptible 
exercise of the art of shooting. From many of these 
Mediterranean sea-caves, at the first shout, or rattle of 
the oars, a cloud of Shags will dash out or drop like 
stones from the rock-ledges into the sea, a pair of Blue 
Rock-Thrushes will set up notes of very musical defiance, 
a few White-bellied and Common Swifts, and perhaps a 
Kestrel or two, will rush out with the Doves, and keep 
screaming around, and occasionally a Seal will glide 
from its resting-place and, passing under the boat, show 
its head at a respectful distance out at sea. On the 
only occasion on which I visited a cave on the English 
coast in the hope of finding some Rock-Doves, we 
discovered nothing more interesting than a few males of 
our own species in a state of nature, a bundle of marine 
fern, and an empty beer-bottle. Mr. H. Saunders states 
