S8 ON SURREY HILLS. 



one killed with a cross-bow. It was early in tlie 

 season, when the cock birds were playing up to 

 attract their sober - coloured companions, the grey 

 hens. I had marked one of their playing places 

 the day before, when I had started five fine fellows 

 quite by accident. It was a flat kind of green ter- 

 race which jutted out from the hillside. I had come 

 upon them from a clump of firs above, on which they 

 roosted if the cover was too damp for them. All 

 birds show off more or less as the breeding season 

 comes round, but the blackcock is a perfect adept in 

 the art. One moment you see him with his head on 

 a line with the ground, his wings trailed and his 

 curved tail thrown up well over his back. With a 

 quick spring this position is reversed, and he appears 

 with head thrown up and well back, his wings 

 drooped and his tail nearly touching the back of 

 his head, showing the pure white of the under tail- 

 coverts to great advantage. The next moment he 

 will adopt the action of a gamecock slightly modi- 

 fied. One thing is certain — he is not so wary at 

 such times as at others. 



We started for the playing place before daylight, 

 and got into hiding close to, just as things were be- 



