146 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



picks up a leaf, again walks on for a little, drops it, and dis- 

 appears with quick darting flight after another — probably rival — 

 male. Presently he returns, crawls to the top of a bush, com- 

 mences to sing, in the middle suddenly breaks off, and again 

 darts off after the other male, then returns and marches on in 

 front of the female, and again picks up and carries a leaf. She 

 meanwhile threads her way in and out of the dead and growing 

 herbage, apparently unconscious to anything that might in any 

 way tend to produce the same nervous tension in her own mind, 

 and oblivious to the sexual selection proceeding around her. In 

 fact, I cannot call to mind a single case where I have seen any- 

 thing approaching frenzy in the female of any species while 

 mating. 



The conclusion I formed after remarking the behaviour of 

 the males at this season was that the picking up and carrying of 

 a leaf was due solely to the fact that, inasmuch as the con- 

 struction of the nest must be commenced within a few days of 

 the time of my observations, and the bird's mind being full also 

 of this same idea, this action might be ipso facto a commence- 

 ment ; but, in the light of later observations, any theory of this 

 kind falls to the ground. The following spring I was attracted by 

 the movements of a Blackcap flying from tree to tree in hurried 

 flight, carrying a piece of one of the dead grasses with which the 

 nest is generally constructed. But herein lies the difference — 

 that it was one of the first Blackcaps that had arrived, and there 

 was no sign of any female ; in fact, the females had not arrived. 

 Again, last year, the first Whitethroat arrived in this district 

 — and how well I remember the day — on the 20th April, the 

 first day of that long spell of dry weather. The sun was just 

 rising, and the rays of light coming through a slight mist gave 

 all the trees and foliage that extraordinary glow which those who 

 are accustomed to being out at that time of day will readily 

 understand. Not having seen the bird for six or seven months, 

 I thought I must sit down and watch. The bird was in that state 

 of restless frenzy, at one moment diving into a bramble-bush, 

 then climbing up the topmost sprays, singing all the while inter- 

 mittently. After one rather longer dive into the bush than usual, 

 he reappeared, carrying a piece of dead grass in his bill, full of 

 excitement, flying from spray to spray, with no apparent object 



