H the Fields 
and Woods. 
>M 
THE BIRD WORLD. 
In the Fields and Woods. 
By H. NORMAN. 
IN THE FIELDS, 
Although yellow autumn is with us ; we occasion¬ 
ally cannot resist the temptation to let our thoughts 
wander back to the delights of the past summer, 
for it has been a most glorious time, and all that 
one could wish for, let him be botanist, entomo¬ 
logist, bird-lover, or a seeker after the hidden mys- 
. teries of Nature. We have had soft breezes and 
warm, sunny days, and whether we have stood and 
watched the gorgeous butterfly flitting past, the 
heavily-laden bees pass from flower to flower ; or, 
prone upon the ground, have listened to the carol¬ 
ling of the tiny speck of feathers high up in the 
vault of blue, the time spent in the open has been 
more than usually interesting. 
INCREASING BIRD LIFE. 
So fast has wild bird life increased, especially 
among the smaller species, that each hedge, and 
almost every bush, has contained, during the sea¬ 
son, its cradle full of downy youngsters, sleek and 
satisfied, for few creatures tend, and care for their 
young as wild birds do. The wind may blow and 
rock the cradle, occasionally, bumping it against 
some handy branch, yet the birds lie tight and 
cosy; but touch it with one’s hand, and all the 
heads bob up, the beaks are open, for something 
living has come in contact with the structure. The 
sense of touch must be keen in such little mites to 
enable them to so quickly detect the difference. 
And when the eyes first open, how quick they are 
to note the strange presence, for to wild creatures 
anything unusual is dangerous, something to be 
shunned, to be hidden from; and yet birds are 
not long in knowing their friends, and soon get 
accustomed to daily visits from the same person. 
Go near a colony, no matter, what the species, and 
see how quickly they recognise the presence of a 
stranger; but visit the place daily, and after a 
time they get to know you, and go about their 
usual duties quite unconcerned. Some even of the 
most wary birds may be observed by following this 
. plan ; the noisy redshank, for instance, will cease 
X; his yelping, and after a few flapping circles settle 
- on a distant gate, and simply keep his eye on you. 
OUR MISSING FRIENDS. 
Now that the harvest is gathered, an,d the fields 
'G have lost a good deal of their colour and beauty, 
|\ we naturally feel that in the passing of summer we 
have lost a host of friends. The hedgerows are still 
beautiful with bunches of crimson berries, but we 
miss the flitting warblers, the chattering song of the 
-I ^whitethroat, and the gentle “whit-whit” of the 
L . nightingale. 
THE CHANCE OF THE COMMONER. 
But so rich is our land in wild bird life that we 
\ have plenty left to study and interest us, and had 
we the warblers always with us it is doubtful if our 
t commoner birds would get the notice they deseive. 
A 0 That flock of chattering linnets would pass un¬ 
noticed, although they are clearing the land of the 
^ scattered seeds of charlock and other noxious weeds, 
‘ doing good service to mankind. We see the flocks 
of busy starlings rising as we approach, with a 
(A twirling, skimming flight, settling again close 
^ handy; the hordes of sparrows, Tike some big com¬ 
munity, working for dear life—no idlers here, each 
for himself, for the lazy or weak would soon perish. 
And then, as the season changes, our wild life 
changes, too. The bramblings and the handsome 
fieldfares have come from northern climes, the flocks 
of pigeons from the east, the blue tits from their 
summer quarters. Cheery robin has come from the 
distant woods, and we love to see him, for his crim¬ 
son breast gives a spot of living colour to the som¬ 
bre surroundings. 
IN THE WOODS. 
The woods have lost the brightness of the sum¬ 
mer months; the changing foliage has been fol¬ 
lowed by the falling leaves, but the thinning of the 
tops adds, if possible, to the beauty of the timber, 
for we can. now trace the limbs of the sturdy oaks 
and the slender ash, while the graceful birch, with 
the golden catkins swaying in the breeze, are net 
now hidden by the dense foliage. The long, dry 
summer caused a shedding of the leaves rather 
earlier than usual, but the rains stayed the fall,' 
and now we get the full beauty of the woods. 
The leaves have changed while hanging, and the 
artist’s palette needs all the colours that the in¬ 
genuity of man can invent to imitate such glorious 
colouring. 
SEEN IN THE FOREST. 
Like the fields and the hedgerows, the forest has 
lost its summer denizens. We miss the warbling 
blackcap and the fire-tailed redstart, the pretty 
wood-wren and his cousins, the no less sprightly 
chiffchaff and willow warbler. -The pheasants strut 
proudly under the trees, their soft tread hardly dis¬ 
turbing ' the thick carpet of leaves ; a pair or two 
of wood pigeons are plainly discernible, their blue 
mantles and white heck-patches catching the eye, 
making them conspicuous- objects among their 
brown surroundings ; several are in the trees feast¬ 
ing upon the ripe acorns, for of all the fruit of the 
woods these are the most plentiful this season. 
The beech-nuts are scarce, more’s the pity, for 
many of our resident birds feed largely on them 
during the short winter days, and badly they will 
be missed if the weather is at all severe. Now the 
woods are thinning we can see the cunning jay, 
who, screaming at some fancied danger, dashes 
through the branches, startling for the moment the 
feeding birds, but these, hearing nothing but a dis¬ 
tant noise, resume their meal, being joined by a 
magpie in beautiful feather, who, with black and 
white coat, looks spick and span, the sheen of green 
and blue on his wings and tail glistening in the 
autumn sunlight. Down in the glade a glossy 
blackbird searches the long grass for favouiite food, 
and here and there a song thrush takes short, sharp 
runs, stopping now and then to listen, and with 
vigorous thrusts digs out some luckless worm. A 
party of twittering tits go by, compelling attention 
by their very activity. Regular nomads are these 
when summer is over, wandering far and wide in 
search of the necessary life-giving morsels, for little 
comes amiss to these bright little fellows. 
Occasionally, when the winter sunshine warms the 
tree-trunks, the bright brown squirrel will sit for 
a few minutes to enjoy the warmth. 
