The Ring Ouzel 

 THE RING OUZEL 



Turdus torquatus (Linnaeus) 



" Chuck, chuck " — " chuck, chuck, chuck ! " The note 

 is strangely reminiscent of the Fieldfare, but it is now June, 

 and even the latest stragglers of that species have left us. 

 We are on a hillside in Wales, below us lies the Irish 

 Channel, with hardly a ripple on its surface, the hill itself 

 is almost covered with a short growth of furze and heather, 

 the intervening spaces being carpeted with short moss and 

 grass, kept well cropped by the hardy race of sheep for 

 which the Principality is justly famous. " Chuck, chuck " 

 — this time we catch a glimpse of the bird, the beautiful 

 white half- moon on his breast showing up clearly against 

 the black of the rest of his plumage as he sits on one of 

 the boulders that project through the vegetation and refuse 

 to be hidden. He rises, and making a swift semicircular 

 flight, pitches on another point of vantage, whilst the hen 

 also appears and regards us with anxiety. However, as 

 we stay still, she presently disappears, and he, ceasing his 

 monotonous note, hops behind a tussock of grass, and all is 

 quiet. Suddenly he reappears with a fine insect in his beak ; 

 we are still regarded with suspicion, and the clucking note is 

 often repeated as he flies round us several times, continually 

 settling for a few seconds to make sure whether our presence 

 is for good or ill before he betrays the whereabouts of his 

 nest, the all-absorbing interest of his life at the present time. 

 Soon he takes another flight, and we lose sight of him as 



J 9 



