162 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



rest, or pursue their journey. Thus the Golden Plover, the 

 Knot, and many others are often to be met with a few hours after 

 a shift of wind. The following " entry " from my note-book is a 

 case in point : — 



Sept. 30th, 1899. — Wind veered yesterday from south-west to 

 south-east. Rough wet night. To-day Breydon was noisy with 

 birds ; saw some Turnstones and Whimbrel ; number of Grey 

 Plovers, some Greenshanks, and many small birds. Many scores 

 of Grey Plovers were subsequently shot. 



A similar occurrence is noted for September, 1897, as 

 follows : — 



Sept. 5th. — A " rush " of migratorial birds ; wind suddenly 

 veering to east after continuous west and south-west winds. 

 Next day, Sept. 6th, on a game-stall, the following birds were 

 exposed for sale : — Ten Godwits, one Shelduck, one Scaup, nine 

 Curlew Sandpipers, one Reeve, one Greenshank, twenty Knots, 

 two Kingfishers. 



That the movements of certain birds are a fairly reliable 

 indication that some atmospheric disturbance is approaching 

 seems to my mind beyond dispute. Note the following entries : — 



Nov. 23rd, 1897. —Extraordinary thick fog. 



Nov. 24th. — Night noisy with cries of Plovers ; this, with 

 certain other birds being " uneasy," portending bad weather. 

 (The weather changed almost immediately after.) 



Nov. 28th. — Blew hard to-day (and next), the gale causing 

 havoc all round the neighbourhood. Tide rose to an alarming 

 height. The sea broke through the sand-hills at Horsey. 



South-east winds are more favourable to the migratorial birds 

 passing along our shores, whilst that from an opposite quarter, 

 or from a westerly direction, will favour the Dutch coast-line, to 

 the detriment of our own. With light north-west winds and 

 moonlight nights, during October and November, the Woodcock 

 is anxiously looked for. Westerly winds have been responsible 

 for the visits of a few American wanderers — for instance, the 

 Great Spotted Cuckoo. Severe winters, with much snow, drive 

 numerous wanderers south, and there can be little doubt that 

 many birds which rush ahead of hard weather have put off their 

 exit until absolutely driven to it. In the cruel January of 1881, 

 the day before the fearfully disastrous gale on our coast, I wit- 



