FEBRUARY 43 



and now alighting in a field. Sometimes we meet with 

 large and excited gatherings of from eight to a dozen, 

 the subject under discussion being evidently connected 

 with matters matrimonial. Two jack-hares chase 

 madly over the springing corn, scuffling and boxing, so 

 blind in their rivalry that they will run right up to the 

 feet of an onlooker. A squirrel in his winter coat of 

 brownish-grey, not red as in summer, hunts with quick 

 jerky movements amongst the leaves for a chance 

 acorn, carrying his brush curled up over his back as 

 if to keep it clean and dry. Here by the lake side we 

 come upon a heap of loose, peaty soil nearly a yard 

 across, so much bigger than the mole's ordinary hillocks 

 that it evidently marks the site of his fortress . Opening 

 it up, we find the whole of the mound crossed and re- 

 crossed by a connected system of galleries or tunnels, 

 which, however, exhibit none of the beautifully sym- 

 metrical arrangement so often figured. At a depth 

 of ten or twelve inches is the central chamber which 

 contains the nest, a double handful of oak-leaves and 

 pieces of sedge, beautifully dry inside, but untenanted. 

 On the coast the air is full of the cries of the Curlews 

 after dark, this unusual stir always marking the time 

 of the year when they leave for their breeding-haunts 

 in the hills. The Black-headed Gulls begin to acquire 

 their black hoods, and the Herring Gulls circle slowly 

 round at a great height, uttering their jubilant spring 

 cackle. 



