CHAPTER VIII 



THE NESTING OF THE MERLIN 



IACKING as he does the tremendous wing power of the 

 peregrine or the stealthy, silent flight of the sparrow 

 hawk, the merlin has a grace and charm on the wing 

 which is unsurpassed by any of his tribe. I have often 

 remarked on the resemblance of this flight to that of the 

 swift; there is the same rapid motion of the wings, the same 

 turning and wheeling in the air, the same joy of motion and 

 of art perfected. 



One season on a certain wide moor in the North of 

 England I had reason to believe that a pair of these birds 

 were nesting, but the way in which I actually found the nest 

 was not a little curious. While sitting on a prominent 

 mound I noticed a small company of rooks winging their 

 way past, about a quarter of a mile distant. Then I became 

 aware of a smaller bird flying after the rooks and rapidly 

 overhauling them. Having seen the trespassers off his beat, 

 the pursuer turned, and I marked him down over a ridge 

 more than half a mile from me. 



Crossing the moor, a few minutes' walk brought me to the 

 spot, and sure enough a cock merlin rose from the hillside, 

 carrying what appeared to be a small bird in his claws. 



His behaviour was interesting. Apparently ignoring my 

 presence, he flew steadily away until lost to sight, so that I 

 was inclined to doubt whether he really had a nest near. 

 But very soon he returned, having deposited his prey some- 

 where, and now circled round, calling anxiously. Some 

 patches of old heather, such as merlins love as a nesting site, 

 were near, and after a careful search I was very glad to see 

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