THE WIIEATEAK. 
GO 
Snarravoe, a fine male Wheatear sitting upon a large stone, 
after entertaining me for a while with the cry of the ringed 
plover, suddenly went off into an exceedingly good attempt at 
that of the lapwing ; hut soon afterwards, having inadvertently 
destroyed the whole effect by a ludicrous mixture of the two, 
it stopped for a short time, and then began a monotonous 
“peewit, peewit,” which was continued as long as I remained 
within hearing. Upon very many occasions I have heard the 
Wheatear successfully imitate the notes of the following birds, 
— house sparrow, skylark (part of song), common bunting, 
mountain linnet, peewit, golden plover, ringed plover, redshank, 
oyster-catcher, and herring gull. So complete is the deception, 
that when the bird has been out of sight I have many times 
been thoroughly taken in. One April morning, hearing, as I 
thought, the cry of a redshank, I was preparing to follow up, 
when to my surprise I discovered that the notes proceeded 
from a Wheatear, the first of the season, perched upon a stone 
not many yards distant. 
Incubation having fairly begun, the male, who, by the way, 
has taken an active part in the process of building, keeps his 
fidgety watch in the neighbourhood, sometimes employing him- 
self in carrying food to his mate, and occasionally taking his 
turn upon the eggs. I have seen him, when driven from the 
nest, flit away for a short distance, alight upon a stone, and 
rising in the air indulge in song without the smallest sign of 
alarm. This song is often to be heard even as late as mid- 
night, when the weather is fair. However, no sooner are the 
young hatched than the behaviour of the male undergoes a 
considerable change. The song is laid aside as unbecoming to 
the dignity of paterfamilias, who„ jealous of every intruder, 
flits about restlessly in every direction, endeavouring by 
numerous devices to divert attention from the concealed 
treasure ; although, by his newly assumed and incessantly re- 
peated '‘peep, cliack, chack,'' he most unmistakably betrays the 
secret. The young of the first brood are left to themselves as 
soon as they are well fledged, the parents immediately begin- 
