138 IN BERKSHIRE FIELDS 



elms which stand back in the fields. I have won- 

 dered if the automobile is not responsible for this. 

 Has any one else observed the same condition? 



The birds of the meadow, the wide, smooth 

 stretches of tall grass and sunny spaces with a wind- 

 ing river or a pond in the distance, the reaches where 

 you stand "knee-deep in June," are a gay and 

 pleasant lot. Their very names are musical — the 

 bobolink, the meadow-lark, the bob-white, and the 

 humorous if not musical tip-up. 



But it is one thing to see the black-and-white 

 bobolinks darting in flocks over the meadows, or 

 to hear the piercingly sweet song of the lark pour- 

 ing from an elm by the swale at sunset-time, and 

 quite another matter to find their nests. The bobo- 

 link, meadow-lark, and quail (we have, alas ! practi- 

 cally no quail in Berkshire) all build their nests on 

 the ground, in the long grass, the first choosing usu- 

 ally a spot where the ground is fairly damp, the last 

 often a spot close to a hedge of bushes or shrubs. 

 Moreover, their nests are woven of grass, and the 

 lark always and the quail often weave a protecting 

 arch over the nest, still further concealing it. Our 

 golf-course is on a fine river meadow, and the fair- 

 way runs between strips of tall grass. It is alive 

 all summer with both bobolinks and larks. I have 

 even seen a bobolink chase after a ball, flying down 

 to it on the ground to investigate. The caddies go 

 poking for wild shots into the tall grass constantly. 

 Yet few nests are ever found. Last summer the 

 mowing-machine was running along within ten 

 feet of the fairway, at a point where sliced drives 

 are constantly entering the rough, and the knives 



