252 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



strained " chu-whay-ays " rise strangely from a full chorus of 

 whirbling (a sound somewhat resembling the quick earnest 

 cooing of Dove-cot Pigeons, but louder, and with very much 

 more poetry in it), to both of which, and that other plaintive 

 note of full hostility, is added the whirr of wings, as one or 

 other of the excited birds, and often several together, leap into 

 the air, as also — but this is very occasional, and never lasts 

 more than a few seconds — the sounds of violent blows of wing 

 on wing, denoting an actual encounter. 



On account of the mistiness of the morning — wondrous 

 effects on the near and distant hills as it lightened — it was much 

 longer before I could see even the cock birds, either with or with- 

 out the glasses, and longer still before the form of a hen, here 

 and there, was discernible. These, as before, seemed very few 

 in number ; I, in fact, do not clearly remember to have seen 

 more than two, on the ground, at once, nor did more than a 

 single one fly in, at a time, and this only twice or thrice — since 

 it lightened, of course, that is to say ; how many may have 

 done so, and gone off, again, invisibly, I cannot say. I was 

 witness, this morning, of two coitions, though, of course on such 

 a large space, with so much of tufted grass upon its outer mar- 

 gin, in which several of the birds were, and especially whilst it 

 was still too dark for me to see, there may have been more. In 

 the first case, a hen walked right down over the ground, almost 

 from end to end, till she came to a certain bird, whom she, as it 

 were, by this, invited to court her. He did so, of course, on 

 which his nearest male neighbour came up and interfered. 

 There was a scuffle, of very short duration, between them, but 

 for the most part they merely got in each other's way, so to 

 speak, strutting past and following one another. Then they fell 

 away, a little, each walking about importantly, eyeing the other, 

 and were thus occupied, and still at pretty close quarters, when 

 the hen, going quickly up to the one she had at first come to, 

 crouched, and coition was effected. The rival, however, at once 

 interfered — perhaps successfully — and the hen, running out 

 from the struggling birds, shortly flew away. In this case, 

 therefore, the hen seems certainly to have chosen a male, nor 

 was she diverted from this predilection, but asserted it a second 

 time, acting with decision and address. In the other instance I 



