CURLEW 235 
sink in long, smooth slopes from the highest mountains of 
the island, whose summits close in the view. Along the 
main ravine in the centre are a few patches of low trees, 
one of which contains a small rookery. Northward the 
sides of the glen close in upon it more steeply and 
picturesquely, broken by rocky scarps, and the increased 
stream foams into frequent waterfalls as it struggles through 
the defile, but in this topmost valley there is no rock nor 
rapid flow of water; the whole scene at the Curlews’ nesting 
time is of the sallow faded hue of the last year’s grass. The 
wet ground round the spring heads becomes, later on, gay 
with white flowered cotton-grass, purple butterworts, rose 
heather (Hrica tetralix), and orange bog asphodel, and 
verdant with fresh fronds of sphagnum moss, but is now 
without flower or green-blade. In this solitude rings out 
the keen, wild, and musical note, one of the most delightful 
sounds in nature, and the dun-coloured birds flit like ghosts 
high above the dreary landscape. Even at its breeding 
grounds the Curlew is exceedingly shy and wary, and keeps 
at a great distance from the intruder. 
During the great frost and snow of 1895 a living speci- 
men was found buried in the snow near Kirk Michael, and 
another was picked up dead in the garden of a house in 
that village. 
The Curlew breeds in the Dublin, Wicklow, and Antrim 
mountains ; on nearly every hill and moor in Galloway, 
and all over the fells of north-western England; it nests 
also in Anglesea. On the coasts it is of course abundant. It 
nests sparingly in Shetland and Orkney, and apparently not 
at least commonly in the Outer Hebrides. 
