10 
REVIEWS. 
and distance. Never to be approached upon an open shore, the only chance pos¬ 
sessed hy the shooter is by concealment in the vicinity of their flight, or when ob¬ 
served waiting the falling of the tide in fields bordering the shore, the proximity of 
the hedgerow allows an approach to some portion of the flock. 
u Much as we admire the wild beauty of its call-note, it is never heard to more 
advantage than when passing to its feeding stations along the shore at night-time, 
uttered singly in long-echoing whistles, with another occasional call-note more hur¬ 
ried, which serves to bring in stragglers to the main flock. They impart one 
of the most beautiful of the many attractions which nature has so profusely scat¬ 
tered for our enjoyment. Sometimes, also, we hear, amid the deep silence of the 
night, some old veteran curlew, which has become a very Nestor in its precautions 
for safety, and its voice a deep bass, from years of constant whauping, utter a long- 
drawn whistle, so intense in expression, loudness, and solemnity, that even coast¬ 
guards stationed in the vicinity have left their domiciles to observe if the sea was 
burdened with a wreck. Even in our own vicinity, at Rob’s Wall, near Malahide, 
the guard in custody of the Martello Tower represented to us having at times 
started from his bed to ascertain the cause of such an unearthly whistle :— 
‘Soothed by the murmurs of the sea-beat shore, 
His dun-grey plumage floating to the gale, 
The curlew blends his melancholy wail 
With those hoarse sounds the rushing waters pour.’ 
u Feeding upon the shore in winter, during autumn the curlew lives for a short 
time upon seeds and berries, so much so that we have had the pleasure of examining, 
with Mr. Glennon, the stomachs of curlews, on two different occasions, which were 
entirely filled with blackberries, the action of which had not only discoloured the 
intestines, but changed the natural colour of the bones to a light purplish hue. 
“ Towards the approach of spring, the great flocks which we had seen during 
winter, apparently thinned and diminished in number, separate into detached 
bodies, and depart inland to seek a suitable place for nidification. 
“ On some barren and desolate moor, tenanted by the grouse, the moor harrier, 
and lizard, the curlew prepares an artless nest on the ground, in a dry tuft of grass 
or rushes, lined with withered herbage. Sometimes it is formed in a natural hollow 
or depression, smoothed by the bird, and lined with leaves, where the eggs are de¬ 
posited, four in number, of a pale green, blotched with brown. During the breed¬ 
ing season these solitary tracts, frequented by the curlew, appear replete with 
animation. From early dawn to the last hour of twilight, their incessant scream¬ 
ing and repeated motion afford a relief to the otherwise changeless and dull 
monotony of the scene; on the nest being approached, the male and female assail 
the obnoxious intruder with noisy screams, beating at him with quivering wings, 
and, that failing, run and skulk before, in hopes of decoying and deluding him. 
“ The male curlew in spring has a habit analogous to the bleating of the snipe, 
which is usually performed at early dawn. Rising slowly in the air, and sailing in 
easy flight, and at times rapidly descending, the amorous curlew utters at intervals 
the loud, shrill, quivering whistle peculiar to the breeding season ; and at daybreak 
the moving forms of curlew, rendered large and indistinct by the fog, the oft- 
repeated whistles of many birds on the wing at the same time, the challenging of 
the mountain grouse, and the hoarse croak of welcome from the raven sailing to its 
foray in the valley, form one of those little episodes intrinsically so trifling in ap¬ 
pearance, but yet replete with such interest, to greet the observer of nature.” 
As we think that the history of the “ Crallatores” and “Natatores” con¬ 
tains more original matter than perhaps that of the other three orders, we 
annex the following extracts from the latter one, of the roseate tern (Sterna 
Dongallii), and the razor-bill (Alca torda) :— 
u Discernible at once from the elegance of its frail form, we require no history of 
the roseate tern to inform us of its inability to abide the rough blasts of autumn 
and winter, but that, like our summer migratants on the land, its appearance is 
