FOWLS OF THE AIR. 
9 
or condoning this barbarous amusement, it does not concern 
itself to attack or denounce it. There is plenty of other 
work for it to do. Some of its members, indeed, who have 
travelled in countries where all wild birds are scrupulously 
and spontaneously protected by the natives, may feel more in 
sympathy with the Mohammedan who, from superstitious dread of 
injuring the spirit of one of his ancestors, refrains from taking the 
life of any wild bird, than they feel with the idle English “milor,” 
who ascends the Nile, not content to enjoy the glorious sunshine 
or to explore the relics of the most ancient civilization in the world, 
but intent upon carrying death and wounds among the harmless 
waterfowl that crowd the river banks. 
At the beginning of the great frost of February, 1895, I was 
fishing in Thurso. A brace of beautiful wild swans came up the river 
and offered to light on the pool beside which I was standing, but on 
seeing me they flew on. My gillie said he thought they would settle 
at a place higher up the river, and urged me to get a gun—for I 
would get a fine chance at them. I turned and said, “ Do you 
know that if I were to get twenty guineas for every swan I bagged, 
I never would fire at one of them P ” He looked half amused, 
half incredulous ; but many sportsmen will understand my feelings. 
I don’t want to make myself out better than I am. I was bred a 
sportsman, and, though I shoot no longer, I would be ashamed to 
compound for sins I am inclined for (fishing, for instance) by 
damning those I have no mind for; and, in my opinion, the Society 
for the Protection of Birds has acted wisely in refraining from 
nterference with legitimate sport. 
Of what the law can do—a great deal, perhaps all that can be 
done—has been done in this country. The more defenceless species 
have profited by the low estate to which game preservation has 
reduced birds of prey. Song birds and other small kinds were 
never probably so numerous as at the present time. But several 
birds are still killed as “vermin” which it is the duty of the 
Society to make known in their true character. The kestrel dies 
because he is a hawk (to speak more strictly, a falcon), but his 
chief prey is mice and beetles. Owls have long enjoyed evil 
