NATURE NOTES 
164 
formed by an outflow of lava. But in the uncultivated country 
between that lake and Le Mont Dore one traverses mile upon 
mile of almost uninhabited, desolate volcanic highlands. A few 
pipits could be seen, a crow or two, and occasionally a brown- 
coloured member of the order Accipitres, which I took to be 
probably the common buzzard {Biiteo vulgaris). Generally, in the 
grand solitudes of the Auvergne the avifauna, as might have been 
expected, was scanty. 
At a small wayside inn at Le Vauriat, near Clermont- 
Ferrand, where I sheltered three or four hours from the rain, two 
Frenchmen, of the middle class, came in, laden with fungi, 
chiefly the “ parasol ” {Lepiota procera) and a species of Marasmius. 
The last-named kind they ate raw at luncheon. After the rain, 
starlings, sparrows and greenfinches were as noisy as their 
relatives in England under like circumstances. 
By this time I was going northwards again. In the Depart- 
ment of Cher there are large farms, reminding one of England. 
One such farm, the occupier said, comprised 70 hectares, say, 
170 to 180 acres. The fields were very different in size from what 
one sees in Brittany and Normandy, and the farming seemed a 
little rough in character. The windmills and brickyards seemed 
home-like, and I noticed an English winnowing-machine and a 
Rochester steam - engine. Here, too, was another English 
feature, fortunately the only one met with of its kind, a kestrel 
nailed to a wall ! For some kilometres there followed con- 
tinuous pastures. In this district wheatears, stonechats, whin- 
chats, and red-backed shrikes were abundant. A flock of eleven 
magpies crossed the road on one occasion. Crows and wood- 
peckers were not rare. But the goldfinches predominated. 
During a single day, entered in my note-book as “ Goldfinch 
Day,” I counted seven flocks, varying in number from four to 
over a score. An odd tree- sparrow or two, and a few willow- 
wrens — very scarce birds, apparently — were also seen that day. 
At Bourges Cathedral — why was it not Rheims? — there was 
a colony of jackdaws. From 200 to 300 swallows had collected 
on the telegraph wires at La Motte Beuvron (Loire-et-Cher). In 
this department, now betraying patches of golden stubble over 
vast lengths — a land of fat turkeys and geese — I saw a party 
of sixteen magpies and a “ desert ” of about twenty lapwings. 
In Loiret 1 crossed a flat, treeless, wind-swept plain. There 
hovered the kestrel, and once the great grey shrike appeared. 
There were many crows, and several times I saw what appears 
to have been the lesser kestrel (Cerchveis nanmav.ni), but of this I 
am not sure. In fact, several birds, rendered doubly doubtful 
by their unfamiliarity and their transitory exposure to view, are 
left unrecorded. In Seine-et-Oise the soil seemed unkindly, all 
was dried up, there were few flowers, and the star-thistle reigned 
supreme. Between Arpagon and Paris rooks circled overhead 
in the park lands, a welcome sight. 
To sum up, the impression left on my mind is that France is 
