v 
species till then unseen by me began to dawn upon my imagination. I replaced the eggs 
without disturbing the nest; and carefully marking the spot, we retired. In half an hour or so 
we returned, going softly to the place; and Mr. Hudleston, reaching his arm over the protecting 
hassock of grass, dexterously secured the bird in his hand as she was taking flight. I then at 
once knew, from her pale fawn-coloured throat, that the nest we had found belonged to a species 
which, up to that time, I believed had been known in Europe only as an accidental visitant, the 
Motacilla cervina of Pallas, the A. rufigularis of Brehm. A day or two later Mr. John Wolley 
returned from a Swan-upping expedition he had been making in the territories of our then 
imperial enemy. He told us that previously to his starting he had shot, somewhere in the neigh- 
bourhood of Vads6, an example of a Pipit which had puzzled him a good deal. ‘This bird 
(which during his absence had been kept in a cellar) was produced, unskinned, and still fresh, 
but unfortunately half eaten by mice. A very short inspection served to show that it was a male 
of the same species as the hen we had, as above mentioned, taken from the nest. Being too 
much injured to be preserved, it was reluctantly thrown away. 
“In a week’s time we were quartered at Nyborg, a small settlement at the head of the 
Varanger Fjord. Here willows and birches grew with far greater luxuriance, even at the water’s 
edge, than lower down the inlet. Some even attained to nearly twice the height of a man, and 
formed thickets which, the intervening spaces being exceedingly boggy, were not easily explored. 
In this secluded spot we found our red-throated friend not unplentiful. We could scarcely go 
out of the house without seeing one; and in the immediate neighbourhood we procured several 
more identified nests, making a total of five, and a fine series of nine birds, all, of course, in their 
breeding-plumage. We had also abundant opportunities of. watching their habits, and, above 
all, of contrasting them with those of the Titlark (4. pratensis), which was not uncommon in the 
district, and to which this species has been so unjustly annexed as a variety. The two birds had, 
according to our observation, an entirely different range, A. pratensis haunting a station less 
wooded (saving the expression) than that of A. cervinus, which latter we found at times feeding 
on the sea-shore, a habit we did not there notice the former to indulge in. No one with ears 
either could for a moment be in doubt about their respective notes. It is true that the full song 
of A. cervinus did not differ so strikingly from the more feeble performance of A. pratensis as does, 
for instance, the joyous burst of A. arboreus ; but it had an unmistakable resemblance to the louder 
and, perhaps, harsher strain of A. obscurws, and in all cases was sufficiently characteristic for 
one to be quite certain as to the nature of the performer, even when the individual was not in 
sight. In a word, none of our party had any hesitation as to regarding A. cervinus as a perfectly 
good species. do not take upon myself a description of the specimens which I have had the 
pleasure of sending to Dr. Bree. A young bird, obtained at Mortensnaes (between Vadso and 
Nyborg), July 16th, and which, as it was attended by its parents (both of which were well seen by 
Mr. Wolley and myself), could only have just left the nest, seems to differ only from the young 
of the Titlark in being of a ruddier complexion; a coloured drawing of it, made only a few hours 
after its death, is now before me. I have already mentioned what the eggs looked like; and it 
would be difficult in words to convey a better idea of them. 
““All the nests that I saw were simply built of dry bents, without any lining or feathers or 
hair. I may, however, add that it was only in this restricted locality in East Finmark (between 
