22 WILD LIFE IN THE TREE TOPS 



Even from a distance the observation post looms large and clumsy, and 

 we wonder whether the local -populace will imagine it is an enormous rook's 

 nest or part of a derelict Zeppelin. In any case the rooks seem to ignore it, 

 and we are deUghted to notice as we draw closer that ' our ' nests are attended 

 by the old birds. 



Our arrival, however, seems to be much resented ; the whole colony of 

 Rooks rising in the air and circling above us with angry caws of remonstrance ; 

 their shadows dancing the while upon the meadow below. 



No time is to be lost, for it is unwise to keep the birds from their nests 

 for any length of time ; and to the distant accompaniment of wild shouts 

 from my companion, who is busy throwing his hat up and chasing it, the 

 jom-ney to the observation post is commenced. 



The trees are elm, and consequently too much confidence must not be 

 placed in their thinner limbs. Still, by keeping close to the trunk there is not 

 much fear of an accident, and with a rope trailing behind, by which the 

 camera may be hauled up, the observation post is ultimately reached. 



In order to enter it, one has to reach up into its interior with one hand, 

 grasp a stoutish branch which serves as a seat, and haul oneself high enough 

 to get a footing on a convenient branch. The camera is then hauled up and 

 fixed in position, and the word given to the hat thrower to go away, and return 

 in four hours' time. These instructions have to be repeated some five or six 

 times, as owing to a stiffish breeze which is blowing, it is impossible for him to 

 hear a word of what is being said ; and it is only when he at last stands immedi- 

 ately beneath the observation post and listens with his head on one side that 

 he understands what is required. 



And now that all is in readiness we can lean back and take things easily 

 — for a while. There is a wonderful light to-day, but rather too much wind; 

 Through a tiny peep-hole in the sacking we can see the form of our companion, 

 dwarfed by distance, slowly making its way over the cornfield towards the 

 farm on the edge of the marsh. 



But in the meantime, how are the Rook families faring ? Immediately 

 opposite to us as we sit on the branch, and at the same level as the head, is 

 an opening in the canvas some six inches broad by one inch high, over which 

 black mushn has been stitched. It is quite a convenient idea for watching 

 the Rooks without any possibility of their seeing through into such a dark 

 interior. 



There are two nests under observation, about four feet from one another. 

 The nest on the right contains eggs which must be on the point of hatching, 

 whilst that on the left holds a family — two in number — of fully fledged young 

 Rooks. These young Rooks are at the moment lying on the edge of the nest, 

 apparently overcome by the heat ; at least they are in the direct rays of a 

 summer sun, and with half-open beaks are panting heavily. 



