BIBDS IN A VILLAGE. 
21 
meadow was one broad expanse of brilliant yellow. 
I had not been standing half a minute in the shade 
before the bird I had been seeking darted out from 
the margin almost beneath my feet, and then 
instead of flying up or down stream, sped like an 
arrow across the field of buttercups. It was a 
very bright day, and the bird going from me with 
the sunshine full on it, appeared entirely of a 
splendid sea green. Never had I seen the king- 
fisher in such favourable circumstances; flying so 
low above the flowery level that the swiftly 
vibrating wings must have touched the yellow 
petals, he was like a waif from some far tropical 
land. The bird was tropical, but I doubt if there 
exists within the tropics anything to compare with 
a field of buttercups — such large and unbroken 
surfaces of the most brilliant colour in nature. 
The first bird's mate appeared a minute later, 
flying in the same direction and producing the 
same splendid effect. These two alone were seen, 
and only on that occasion, although I often 
revisited the spot, hoping to find them again. 
Why are these exquisite birds so rare, even in 
situations so favourable to them as the one I have 
described ? Many are killed by severe frosts. An 
ornithological friend from Oxfordshire assures me 
that it will take several favourable seasons to make 
good the losses of the late terrible winter of 1891-92. 
