426 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



Ruticilla phcenicurus. — A good many at Tonset, about the 

 village and lower pine woods. On the 6th, in a bleak wood of 

 low leafless birch trees, on the edge of the fjeld, and at least 

 2500 feet above sea-level, I found the Redstart ; patches of snow 

 still lay on the ground near at hand. At Trondhjem the Red- 

 start was a common bird in gardens about the town. 



Erithacus rubecula. — I saw only one, in the luxuriant valley 

 of the Nid, between the two falls, Lille Lerfos and Store Lerfos. 



Cyanecula suecica. — Met with only on the Tronfjeld. On 

 June 6th, as we came out of the last of the wood of stunted 

 birches, on exceedingly steep ground, very wet from snow-melt, 

 and emerged on to the fjeld, we passed a great drift of melting 

 snow. All around was bare ground sweeping up to the rounded 

 tops, and undulating a little. The ground was clothed with 

 hummocks of yellow moss, grey lichen, and reindeer moss (Cla- 

 donia), with here and there some crowberry (Empetrum nigrum) 

 and white-flowered cloudberry (Rubus chamcemorus), and the thin 

 wiry stems of the creeping arctic birch (Betula nana), its rounded 

 leaves just bursting from the buds. Grey rocks and bits of 

 white quartz cropped up at intervals. But in a little hollow, 

 holding yet some snow, there was some growth of dwarf willow, 

 and a few stunted birches (both leafless, but their buds bursting) 

 were dotted about among a thick growth of creeping birch. The 

 clouds came flying along, and wrapped us in misty sheets ; the 

 wind was cold and searching, and snow patches gleamed coldly. 

 In this dreary spot the Bluethroat chose to pass the summer. 

 We saw this day a pair and a single male. The bright pure 

 notes of the Bluethroat's song drew my attention to a bird 

 sitting in one of the naked weird black-and-white skeleton 

 birches. I had long looked forward to the pleasure of hearing 

 the song, and I was not disappointed with it; it is wonderful. 

 Well may the Laps call the bird " Saddan Kiellinen," or hundred 

 tongues (* Ten Years in Sweden'). The song is very sweet, and 

 its only fault is that it is a little thin and shrill (the same thing 

 may often be noticed in the Robin's notes). Except that it lacks 

 the fulness and richness of tone, it approaches the Nightingale's 

 very closely in some of its parts. The Bluethroat sings too in 

 the fashion of a Nightingale and of a Thrush ; that is to say, it 

 repeats a phrase at a time, and gives you time to enjoy each, 

 sometimes repeating it once or twice, and then going off into 



