2980 Birds. 



bited f jeld. It was incessantly repeated round our shed, and as the 

 bird continued to bewail her hard fate (as it seemed to me), and the 

 wind howled in unison, it became almost insupportable ; and more 

 than once did I rush out into the snow to throw a stone at the 

 offender, and to drive from our hut the miserable bird, whose com- 

 plaints were so mournful to the listener : and, indeed, I think the my- 

 thological poets proved themselves to be but sorry ornithologists, or 

 they would certainly have changed Philomela into a plover rather 

 than a nightingale ; for the nightingale gives us sweet and delightful 

 music, whilst nothing can be more mournful and plaintive, and express 

 more abject woe and melancholy, than the cries of my companions on 

 the wild fjeld, the golden plovers. 



The Hazel Hen. This is the bird most highly prized by the epi- 

 cure, if, indeed, there be such in Norway, which I am inclined to 

 doubt, judging from the bill of fare one usually meets in that country. 

 However, epicures or not, the Norwegians and Swedes do appreciate 

 the dainty white delicate meat of the " hjerpe," which English sports- 

 men denominate the "hazel hen:" I must confess my ignorance as 

 to its scientific name. I never shot but one, and that certainly was 

 the most delicious, tender bird it was ever my good fortune to taste. 

 I was driving through a thick forest, when two birds, feeding on the 

 side of the road, and resembling pigeons, flew up among the trees : 

 I quickly followed them with my gun. The trees and underwood 

 were so dense that I could not see many yards before me, but at every 

 step, the whirring noise of a bird rising from the ground within a very 

 short distance, served to urge me on, with eyes wide open and my 

 finger on the trigger. It was very evident that I had met with a covey 

 or pack of some strange fowl'; but before I could emerge into compa- 

 ratively open space, where I could look around, some ten or twelve 

 birds must have risen up : and now the last lingerer (as if waiting for 

 my arrival) rose from the ground some distance off, and flew straight 

 up to the extreme top of one of the highest larches : bang, and down 

 he dropped. I knew him at once to be the Norwegian hjerpe : he is 

 a very handsome bird, with beautifully marked plumage, and about 

 the size of a red grouse. While I was loading again, I spied two 

 more sitting on the top of a fir-tree : I soon crept under the tree, but 

 the foliage was so thick, and the trees so numerous, that I could not 

 catch sight of them. Again and again, I dodged about the tree and 

 tried to get a view of them from underneath ; and again and again I 

 returned to my former post to assure myself they were not gone : no, 

 there they sat, side by side, as motionless as the cones around them, 



