THE STONECHAT. 319 



merely flit from bush to bush, elude you probably at last, but eventually 

 again appear after some little time on their favourite perching-places. 

 We have thus known portions of rough land, not an acre in extent, always 

 tenanted by a pair of birds, and for years they have not been seen away 

 from it. We would also here note that the name ' Stone ^-Chat is a 

 misnomer as applied to this species. The Wheatear is the true Stone-Cha.t, 

 the present bird and the Whinchat being far more aptly called 'Bush- 

 Chats,' a name applied to them by the ever- discerning and talented 

 Macgillivrav." 



The food of the Stonechat is very similar to that of the Whinchat ; but 

 in the winter it eats seeds of various kinds, worms, and small grubs and 

 larvae. Its summer fare is composed almost entirely of insects, and the 

 small beetles and worms found in marshy places and amongst the droppings 

 of cattle. Like the Whinchat, the present species secures much of its 

 insect food whilst hovering in the air, catching flies on the wing just like 

 the Flycatcher or Redstart. It is in these flights that the bird's varied 

 plumage is seen to best advantage, especially if its quarry be pursued 

 for any considerable distance, as is frequently the case. The Stonechat 

 has been known to make flights after small brown moths, and occasionally 

 to take the common white butterfly. In winter, should the frost be 

 severe, the Stonechat is often seen in marshy places, or on the banks of 

 the streams that wander through them, in search of whatever it can 

 find edible at a time when food is so scarce. 



In spring, when all nature seems reviving under the cheerful beams of a 

 brighter sun, the Stonechat's melody is amongst the first to inform us of 

 the change of season. It is the first music heard on the upland wastes, 

 except, indeed, that of the Skylark. Long before the Meadow-Pipits are 

 in song, or the Buntings chant their monotonous music, the little Stonechat 

 may be heard to pour forth his cheering notes. Nothing very remarkable, 

 it is true — a short performance, low of strain, and little varied ; yet it 

 forms a pleasant variety in itself, and a cheerful contrast to so much that 

 is wild and lonely in the surrounding country. The little creature starts, 

 may be, from a spray of broom, which rebounds and quivers as he leaves 

 it, and, flattering in the air, he utters his music and retires to his perch 

 again. His song is like his flight, short and irregular, and no sooner 

 heard and began to be appreciated and listened to with pleasure than 

 it ceases, only to be renewed when the little chorister bounds fluttering 

 into the air again. Its call-notes are somewhat similar to those of the 

 Whinchat, a sharply uttered u-tsik, tsik, tsik, or, more frequently, but 

 one syllable alone, tsik, tsik, tsik, the tail usually being gracefully wafted 

 to and fro as each note is uttered. 



The barren moors, the wild uplands and heaths where the furze bushes 

 attain such luxuriance, and where the stunted juniper bushes, brambles. 



