A Cloud of Starlings 189 



lighter colour. This may not be an invariable rule (for 

 the birds to range themselves according to age), but it 

 is the case frequently. Viewed from a spot three or four 

 fields away, the copse in the evening seems to be over- 

 hung by a long dark cloud like a bar of mist, while the sky 

 is clear and no dew has yet risen. The resemblance to a 

 cloud is so perfect that any one — not thinking of such things 

 — may for the time be deceived, and wonder why a cloud 

 should descend and rest over that particular spot. Sud- 

 denly, the two ends of the extended black bar contract, 

 and the middle swoops down in the shape of an inverted 

 cone, much resembling a waterspout, and in a few seconds 

 the cloud pours itself into the trees. Another minute and 

 a black streak shoots upwards, spreads like smoke, parts in 

 two, and wheels round back into the firs again. 



On approaching it this apparent cloud is found to con- 

 sist of thousands of starlings, the noise of whose calling 

 to each other is indescribable — the country folk call it a 

 ' charm,' meaning a noise made up of innumerable lesser 

 sounds, each interfering with the other. The vastness of 

 these flocks is hardly credible until seen ; in winter the 

 bare trees on which they alight become suddenly quite 

 black. Once or twice in the summer starlings may be 

 observed hawking to and fro high in the air, as if imitating 

 the swallows in an awkward manner. Probably some 

 favourite insect is then on the wing, and they resort to 

 this unwonted method to capture it. 



Beyond the fir trees the copse runs up into a corner, 

 where hawthorn bushes, briar, and bramble succeed to the 

 ash-stoles, and are in turn bordered by some width of furze 

 and brake fern. When this fern is young and fresh the 

 sunshine glistens on its glossy green fronds, but on coming 

 nearer the sheen disappears. On a very hot sultry day 



