THE NIGHTINGALE. 623 



the nest is nothing more than a heap of seaweed, on the top 

 of which is excavated a very slight hollow; and in no case 

 does the bird seem to exercise any skill in the disposition of 

 materials. As it returns year after year to the same spot, and 

 never clears away the old nest, it manages in time to accumulate 

 a heap of seaweed that is sometimes more than two feet in 

 thickness, and of considerable width. The bird is gregarious 

 in its nesting, the rocky ledges being crowded with the rude 

 nests, and the odour that proceeds from them being absolutely 

 intolerable to human nostrils. The eggs are rather pretty, being 

 of an orange colour, spotted and splashed with red and purple 

 of different shades. 



It is rare in England, but there are many British birds that 

 bnild in a sioular manner, such as the Solan goose, or gannet, 

 the cormorant, the guillemot, and various gulls. 



The nest of the Nightingale {Luscinia Philomela) could 

 hardly be classed in any of the preceding groups, and therefore 

 takes its place among the miscellaneous habitations. 



It is not built in the branches, nor in a hole, nor suspended 

 from a bough, nor absolutely on the ground. It is always set 

 very near the ground, and in most cases it is scarcely raised 

 more than a few inches above the soU. In one sense it is not 

 a pretty nest. It is certainly not a neat one, and its apparent 

 roughness of construction is probably intended to make it less 

 conspicuous. The discovery of a Nightingale's nest is not an 

 easy task, unless the eye be directed to the spot by watching 

 the movements of the bird. It is always most carefuUy hidden 

 under growing foliage, and so well is it concealed that even in 

 places where Nightingales abound, the detection of a nest is 

 always welcome to the egg-hunter. 



The materials of the nest are equally calculated for conceal- 

 ment, consisting of straw, grass, little sticks, and dried leaves, 

 all being jumbled together with such " artless art," that even 

 when a nest is seen its real nature often escapes the discoverer. 

 If the same materials were seen in a branch at any height from 

 the ground they would at once attract attention, but in the 

 position which they occupy they look like a mass of loose debris 

 that has been blown by the wind and arrested by the foliage 

 among which it has lodged. 



