8 
NATURE NOTES 
herring gull, and one greater blackback, who warily remains in 
the offing. Turning one’s eyes inland, motley groups of birds 
are seen following the plough — rooks, seagulls, starlings, but 
dominating all, the hooded or Royston crow, the “ Dane crow ” 
of Lincolnshire. The Dane crow is a resident in Ireland, but 
in England he is seen only in w’inter, and even then is chiefly 
confined to Norfolk, Yorkshire, and Lincoln, particularly the 
last named. Look at this crow a moment. His hood is deep 
black, so are the wings ; the undersides are distinctly grey. At 
a distance he has an uncanny appearance, and by one of those 
strange unaccountable freaks of fancy, he ludicrously calls to 
mind a starveling goose. He is terribly suspicious, and will 
raise a hue-and-cry almost before you can get your field-glass 
in focus. Having alarmed his associates, he flops languidly on 
the newly-turned furrow a few yards further away. Shoot him 
not ; he is the very prince of scavengers, and such are sorely 
wanted in these primitive places. Dead sheep, fish offal, 
garbage from dust bins — all are his. The starlings which just 
rose from that farmyard garth, shall we number them by 
hundreds or by thousands ? The cottager loves a starling pie, 
and pies are easily obtained since a dozen or two of these birds 
can be brought low at one shot. But not even the hardiest 
agricultural labourers will try a meal of “ Dane crow,” hence, 
wdth his bodyguard of gulls, rooks, and starlings, hoodie need 
not fear to take advantage of the slight thaw which has set in. 
Passing by a typical marshland church of dark brown lime- 
stone, it is noticeable that the crannies of the wall shelter a 
delicate fern, the rue-leaved spleenwort. In place of the 
customary yew, the churchyard contains four fine walnut trees. 
Just visible on the murky sky line is a kind of twin church, 
whose register contains this curious entry ; “ 1546. A witch was 
devoured in the bounds of ye fields (of the village) and buried 
there ye second Julye.” The tombstones of the burial ground 
are all laid flat on account of a singular wish of a late benefactor. 
But we must hasten forward or the old Abbey will never 
be reached. Life is not w’anting around us. Yellow-hammers 
flit about amongst the immemorial grey thorn clusters. These 
birds sang all through the hot summer and did not cease till 
September. There is a jenny-wren, and if you care to walk 
along the hedge side she will follow you a quarter of a mile, 
giving a queer little chirp at intervals. The movements of the 
little creature along the mound are quite mouselike. Three 
birds there are which accompany the rambler in his walks in 
friendly comradeship — the wren, the hedge-sparrow, and the 
yello\v-hammer. The wren remains among the thorns, or runs 
along the bank ; the hedge-sparrow or shuffle-wing gives his 
wings a shake before he removes to another bush, but he keeps 
well in view ; the yellow bunting flies straight and seeks the 
topmost twig. 
Whilst observations have been made, ground has been quickly 
