WINTER BIRDS. 221 



again dips, jerking his body ceaselessly. By 

 a rapid vibratory motion of his wings he drives 

 himself down through the water, and by the 

 aid of his wide-spreading feet clings to and 

 walks among the pebbles. These he rapidly 

 turns over with his bill, searching for the larvae 

 of water-flies and gauzy-winged ephemeras. 

 He searches the brook carefully downwards — 

 sometimes quite immersed, at other times with 

 his back out, and again with the water barely 

 touching his feet. He does not always work 

 with the stream, for I have frequently seen 

 him struggling against it, but even then retain- 

 ing his position upon the bottom. 



It is from the dark pine forests of Norway 

 and Sweden that the immense flocks of Redwings 

 come that strike our coasts in October. At first 

 small bands are seen under the hedges or in the 

 fields, searching for the tower forms of animal 

 life. At all times the Redwing is less a 

 fruit-eater than its congeners, though the first 

 hard frost immediately drives it to the haw- 

 thorns — the general resort of thrushes during 

 times of scarcity. The fact that the Redwing 

 seems ill adapted constitutionally to bear pro- 

 longed severity did not escape the keen eye of 



