296 A SPRING AND SUMMER IN LAPLAND. 



stone or heap of earth, uttering this monotonous, 

 plaintive whistle till disturbed, when he rises in 

 the air, much after the manner of the common 

 bunting, soars for a while, and then suddenly 

 drops down to the ground, as we see the skylark 

 into a field of young wheat at home. While in 

 the air, the song of the Lapland bunting is as rich 

 and clear as that of any of our songsters — not 

 so shrill as that of the lark, but far sweeter and 

 more varied, for in this song the clear flute-like 

 note of the corn bunting is blended with the 

 varying strain of the skylark, and I thought I 

 never listened to a sweeter melody. Oh, how 

 often have I at such times envied the feelings of 

 the true naturalist, who can listen to the artless 

 song of the little bird without wishing it in his 

 game bag, and watch its habits without hoping 

 soon to see it lying on his skinning table ! There 

 must, however, be collectors, or our knowledge of 

 the feathered race would stand still ; but depend 

 upon it, the study of the animal creation loses half 

 its innocent charms as soon as we make it a matter 

 of pounds, shillings, and pence. " Bosh !" I fancy 

 I hear the surly critic exclaim ; and so it may be, 

 but it is nevertheless true. 



The nest of the Lapland bunting, as far as I 

 could see, was always placed on the ground, gene- 

 rally sheltered by a tussock of grass, occasion- 



