The Redwing's Song 245 



should hesitate to attribute it entirely to that cause, for it 

 sometimes happens that birds act in direct opposition to 

 what we should consider the most eligible course. 



For instance, the redwing is one of our most prominent 

 winter visitors. Flocks of redwings and fieldfares are 

 commonly seen during the end of the season. They come 

 as winter approaches, they leave as it begins to grow 

 warm. In every sense they are birds of passage : any 

 ploughboy will tell you so. (By the bye, the ploughboys 

 call the fieldfares ' velts.' Is not ' velt ' a Northern word 

 for field ?) But one spring— it was rapidly verging on 

 summer — I was struck day after day by hearing a loud, 

 sweet, but unfamiliar note in a certain field. Fancying 

 that most bird notes were known to me, this new song 

 naturally arrested my attention. In a little while I suc- 

 ceeded in tracing it to an oak tree. I got under the 

 oak tree, and there on a bough was a redwing singing 

 with all his might. It should be remarked that neither 

 redwing nor fieldfare sings during the winter ; they of 

 course have their ' call ' and cry of alarm, but by no 

 stretch of courtesy could it be called a song. But this 

 redwing was singing — sweet and very loud, far louder 

 than the old familiar notes of the thrush. The note rang 

 out clear and high, and somehow sounded strangely un- 

 familiar among English meadows and English oaks. 



Then, looking farther and watching about the hedges 

 there, I soon found that the bird was not alone — there 

 were three or four pairs of redwings in close neighbour- 

 hood, all evidently bent upon remaining to breed. To 

 make quite sure, I shot one. Afterwards I found a nest, 

 »nd had the pleasure of seeing the young birds come to 

 maturity and fly. 



Nothing could be more thoroughly opposed to the 



