66 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



bordering upon several weed- grown creeks which communicated 

 with the river, Nightingales, Common Redstarts, and Tree 

 Sparrows abounded. I twice got a sight of a Hobby in the 

 neighbourhood of one of these quiet back-waters of the Sieg. 

 Before entering the Rhine the Sieg flows parallel with that river 

 for about a mile. The narrow strip of land thus formed, 

 together with the adjacent foreshore of the Rhine, was most 

 noticeable of all for the interest and variety of its bird-life. It is 

 a sandy tract liable to be flooded, planted with osier and various 

 other species of willow, amongst which are water-holes, from 

 which the frogs raise an unearthly chorus. Bare enough in 

 winter, it becomes a veritable jungle by the end of May, as with 

 the growth of the willows comes an upgrowth of nettles and tall 

 weeds of every kind, so matted together with hops, bindweed, and 

 the parasitic dodder that by midsummer it is all but impassable. 

 There are stony tracts at the water's edge, and here on May 8th 

 some small waders drew my attention by a note which seemed 

 unfamiliar. There were three of them in company with Common 

 Sandpipers. It was extremely difficult to see them as they ran 

 over the sand, which they nearly matched in colour, but the 

 telescope soon showed me that I had made the acquaintance of 

 the Little Ringed Plover. They once rose with quite a trill, at 

 another time with a note more like that of their larger relative. 

 I saw a Little Ringed Plover again at the same spot on June 10th, 

 so that a pair may possibly have bred there ; but on the 27th, 

 owing, I suppose, to the melting of the Swiss snows, the river 

 was high, and these stony tracts were under water. 



A good many Blue-headed Yellow Wagtails were nesting 

 amongst the willow-scrub. The males, in spring dress, perched 

 upon the osier-sprays, or rose from the ground with shrill 

 •' chit-ip." Reed Buntings chirped and fluttered into cover. 

 Here and there a patch of willow had been left uncut from the 

 previous year, and every such patch seemed to shelter at least 

 one pair of Reed Warblers. Here they skulked and sang, and 

 here, in default of reeds, they made their nests. I noted that 

 incubation lasted fourteen days. A nest at Nonnenwerth, on 

 May 26th, was about six feet from the ground, in the fork of a 

 small poplar ; it was evidently intended to pass for one of the 

 many knots of drift which had caught amongst the twigs. I 



