16 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



heavy mornings, when the mist and smoke hang in the trees, 

 they come just the same, and at times severely try the quickness 

 of the breechloader. If one should happen to be winged, and 

 falls screaming down the tree, the Jays fly in so quickly that the 

 gun-barrels soon become hot in the hand. From about nine to 

 ten in the morning is the time when the Jays appear to be 

 feeding most freely, and it is then when myself and one of the 

 under-keepers wait for them, as, having other duties to attend 

 to, we are unable to spare more than an hour or so each day. 

 However, in that short time we generally manage to kill a dozen 

 or more. During one season a few years ago we bagged two 

 hundred and fifty Jays, up till the end of October, feeding on 

 these acorns. . . . The only injury they do now, is the 

 manner in which their screaming annoys the Pheasants." This 

 last is a most "gamekeeperish" remark, and it would be 

 curious to find out what, if any, grounds Mr. Stonebridge has 

 for making such a remarkable statement. 



The tameness of the birds probably points to their connection 

 with one of those immigrations of Jays to the east coast of 

 England which occasionally take place, and affect Oxfordshire in 

 some degree. 



1898. 



January 5th. — Many primroses and one flower of Pyrus 

 japonica in bloom. 



Oth. — Examined at Mr. Bartlett's a Manx Shearwater captured 

 at North End, Warwickshire, in September last. Although this 

 bird occurred three or four miles outside our boundaries, it may 

 not be out of place to mention it here. 



10th. — While waiting for Wood Pigeons, I watched a Barred 

 Woodpecker for nearly half an hour. It once uttered its loud 

 qui-qui-qui-qui-qui, more commonly heard in spring, and also, 

 but less so, in autumn. It is also heard in summer. The 

 notes of this cry are so run together as to sound like quick 

 rather than qui. This bird also once uttered the alarm cry 

 gik or gek. 



13th. — Snowdrops well out. 



14th. — The "dark still dry warm weather" of Gilbert White. 



