78 RURAL BIRD LIFE. 



THE REDSTART. 



Flitting uneasily before us, as we wander down the 

 lanes or through the birch coppices, we often see a gaily 

 dressed little bird, occEisionally uttering a wild and pleas- 

 ing song. As he flies, his rich black and white plumage 

 glistens in the light, and his chestnut tail appears as a 

 dull streak of fire. Ah, then, the secret's out : this gay 

 little bird is the ' Firetail,' or, more learnedlj- speaking, 

 the Redstart, met with so commonly in summer time 

 in every lane, wood, and coppice. 



He arrives here by the second week in April, the 

 females a few days later, and that is the time to hear 

 him sing his best ; for the song with which he invites a 

 mate is perhaps more rich and full of energy than his 

 summer melody. The song puts )-ou in mind of the 

 ^^'ren's loud and varied notes, \"et it wants their \-igour 

 and sprightliness, and is somewhat monotonous. We 

 often see him just after his arrival perched right up the 

 oak's tallest branches, and as he sits and warbles his oft 

 repeated strains, he appears so rich and gorgeous in his 

 nuptial garb, as it shines and glistens in the bright April 

 sunlight, that he seems to have borrowed a few of the 

 glorious plumes of some feathered gem of the tropics, 

 whilst spending his winter amongst them. 



Those places most favoured with the Redstart's 

 presence are woods abounding with old and decayed 

 timber — the birch woods are a favourite place — or in the 



