A Year with the Birds / Third Edition, Enlarged

Both these fables may, I think, have been built up on a slender basis of fact—the only fact which the Greeks seem to have known about the bird. Aristotle (Hist. Anim. v. 8. 4) tells us that the ἀλκύων was very seldom seen. “It is the rarest of all birds, for it is only seen at the setting of the Pleiades (about Nov. 9) and at the winter solstice; and it appears at seaports flying as much as round a ship, and then vanishing away.” Whether the bird is still seen in Greece only in late autumn and winter I cannot say; but Mr. Seebohm tells us (Brit. Birds, ii. 345) that in Eastern Europe it is compelled by the cold to migrate, some finding their way to Egypt, and therefore necessarily crossing the Ægean, or passing over Greece or the western coast of Asia Minor. I think it is a fair guess that those known to Aristotle were on their way from Thrace and Scythia to a warmer climate; and this hypothesis would explain not only their short stay, but their connection with the sea and harbours, and their mysterious character. Even supposing that a few haunted the Greek rivers at other times of the year, they would not be often seen there by a people not given either to sporting or to exploring out-of-the-way places; the one fact which would impress itself on the unscientific mind would be the sudden apparition in winter, and especially in mid-winter, of this little blue-green spirit about the harbours, and its as rapid disappearance.

If this be so, I think we have not far to seek for the origin of the two fables. Nothing being known of its nesting, it was assumed that it nested at or about the time when it appeared; and the not unfrequent calm and fine weather of mid-December would confirm the fancy, and give it a new mythical colouring. (The matter-of-fact philosopher does not of course allow that these fine days always occurred in his own experience; they are not always met, he says (v. 8. 3), in this country at the time of the solstice, “but they always occur in the Sicilian Sea.”) When this fable of the nesting-time had once established itself, it would be not very difficult to find a nest among the curiosities of the sea. So the little blue bird came to suffer “a sea-change, into something rich and strange,” through the careless fancy of the imaginative Greek.

Note D. Redpolls in the Alps. (p. 195.)

On page 49 of the first edition of this book there was a paragraph which described the shooting by Anderegg of a Lesser Redpoll (Linota rufescens) on the Engstlen Alp. The date was June 30 (1884), and I had little doubt that the bird (which was a female) was one of a pair which had been breeding there. And this idea was confirmed by the discovery of a nest in the same place by Anderegg in May of the present year (1886), which Mr. Scott Wilson, who was with him at the time, considered to belong to the Lesser Redpoll.

The form, however, of the Redpoll which is usually found in the Alps is that which is usually called ‘Mealy’ (Linota linaria); this has been reported by Mr. Seebohm as pretty frequent in the Engadine, and by Prof. Newton, on the authority of Colonel Ward, as having been abundant in Canton Vaud in the winter of 1874-5. All the Redpolls I saw last September were, to judge from size and colouring, of this form: so also were all that I have seen in Swiss museums marked as having been shot in the Alps. Believing therefore, on these grounds, and in deference to the arguments of the Rev. H. A. Macpherson, that both Mr. Scott Wilson and myself had made a mistake, I struck out the paragraph in question from my second edition.

Since doing so, however, I have paid a visit to Cambridge, where Prof. Newton pointed out to me a passage in Prof. Giglioli’s recently published catalogue of Italian birds bearing on the point. He writes without hesitation of Linota rufescens as occasionally breeding in the Italian Alps. This induces me to add this note to the present edition; for if it could be distinctly proved that L. rufescens is found breeding in the Alpine region, new light would be thrown, not only on the curious geographical distribution of this form, but on the abnormal character of the ornithology of the Alps. Prof. Giglioli may be himself mistaken, and as Anderegg and I failed to skin our bird, we cannot produce it as evidence; but my notes made while examining it point decidedly to L. rufescens rather than L. linaria, the length, for example, appearing as only four inches.

Footnotes

[1]The name is sometimes said to be a corruption of bud-finch. But Prof. Skeat (Etym. Dict., s. v. Bull) compares it with bull-dog, the prefix in each case suggesting the stout build of the animal.

[2]See Mr. Seebohm’s British Birds, vol. ii. p. 345.

[3]Mr. O. V. Aplin, of Banbury, tells me that he has heard it stated that if you shoot a Kingfisher, and it falls on the snow, you cannot see it.

[4]In 1885 Gray Wagtails were much less common in the south than in 1884; at the present time (Oct. 1886) they are again in their favourite places (see Frontispiece).

[5]The scientific name is Motacilla sulphurea (in Dresser’s List, M. melanope).

[6]At this same south-east corner, in May 1889, I have several times found the trees above me alive with these bold little birds. I have also seen an egg taken from a nest in the Botanic Garden. We may now, I think, reckon these as residents both in summer and winter.

[7]A Jack-snipe picked up under the telegraph wires at Banbury in July, 1885, was (Mr. Aplin tells me) in an emaciated condition; possibly an injured bird unable to migrate.

[8]In May, 1886, I saw one in a pollard willow at the northern edge of the Parks, near the new boathouse.

[9]At Lulworth, in Dorset, when the berry-season begins, I have noticed that the blackbirds will congregate on the hedgerows in considerable numbers, and abandon for a time their skulking habits. This makes it often difficult to distinguish them at a distance from the Ring-ousels, which are there about the same time.

[10]I.e. for the Rasores, in Love’s Meinie; where are some of the most delightfully wilful thoughts about birds ever yet published.

[11]What this sense is may be guessed from Milton, Paradise Lost, Bk. v. 195—

‘Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow

Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.’

The word seems to express a kind of singing which is soft, continuous, and ‘legato.’

[12]Published by its author at 6 Tenterden Street, Hanover Square.

[13]The three species were the Wood-warbler, Phylloscopus sibilatrix (Bechst.), Willow-warbler, Ph. trochilus (Linn.), and Chiff-chaff, Ph. collybita (Viell.). Markwick declares that he could not distinguish the first of these from the other two.

[14]The song ceases about mid-June, and is not renewed till August: it is then usually so wanting in force as to be hardly recognizable. See Note B. at end of Volume.

[15]The spring of 1886 saw this hedge deserted by both species; the result of an outbreak of lawn-tennis in the adjoining field. They were lucky enough to find new quarters not far off.

[16]The scientific name is appropriate, viz. Sylvia rufa.

[17]Our Summer Migrants, p. 82.

[18]Mr. Courthope’s Paradise of Birds. No one who loves birds or poetry should fail to read Mr. Ruskin’s commentary on the chorus from which these lines are taken, in Love’s Meinie, p. 139 and foll.

[19]Unless it be in the westernmost branch, which runs at the foot of the Berkshire hills. Near Godstow the nest is to be found, as Mr. W. T. Arnold, of University Col., has kindly informed me: for obvious reasons I will not describe the spot.

[20]In the summer of 1886 this interesting bird was quite abundant in and round Oxford. If I am not mistaken a nest was built in the reeds of the fountain at the south end of the Botanic Garden, a perfectly secure spot. I heard the song there as late as the end of July.

[21]This bird cannot really be wholly missing in summer, but it is strange how seldom I have seen or heard it. It is wanting also from a list sent me by Mr. A. H. Macpherson, of birds noticed by him in Switzerland last summer (1886). But Anderegg tells me that its song is often heard near his house at Meiringen. The Missel-thrush is certainly more abundant.

[22]This name (Alpenlerche) seems to be applied by the peasantry both to this species and to the Alpine Accentor. Mr. Seebohm, in his British Birds, calls the former, very appropriately, the Alpine Pipit.

[23]E.g. on the rocks about the Devil’s Bridge near Andermatt, or on these of the Gemmi-pass.

[24]In common with other Woodpeckers, as Mr. H. Wharton has reminded me in the Academy. It is indeed very doubtful whether this striking bird was known either to Aristotle or Pliny; it is now an uncommon bird in Italy, and is properly an inhabitant of northern Europe. But when Italy was covered with forest (cp. Theophrastus, Hist. Plant, v. 8. 2) it must have been known to the country people.

[25]The closer acquaintance has been made, and I have learnt the song of this bird, which is not unlike that of the Lesser White-throat described in Chapter II. Of all the warblers I know, this is the most restless and difficult to observe when once the leaves are fully out. It is the only bird, I think, which has completely baffled me during a whole morning spent in pursuing the song without once getting a fair look at the singer. (June, 1889.)

[26]Mr. Seebohm’s British Birds is a remarkable exception to this tendency.

[27]This kindly patron of birds is E. D. Lockwood, Esq., late of the Bengal Civil Service, and author of Natural History, Sport, and Travel in India.

[28]They came, but found the hole occupied by the ubiquitous Starling. He again gave way to a pair of bold Blue-tits, who brought up their young here, flitting about the garden like large blue butterflies.

[29]For exactly four years I saw no other Black Redstart in Oxfordshire. But on November 5, 1888, another caught my eye within half a mile of the spot described in the text. This time it was another new and ugly wall that he patronized, transferring his attention now and then to the cabbages in a cottage garden hard by.

[30]The discovery in Germany (see the Ibis for April, 1889) of a Cuckoo hatching its own egg should put all English observers on the look-out. We have taken it too much for granted that such a thing could not happen.

[31]Col. Barrow tells me that now (August, 1886) they have come to prefer bread to nuts, and will leave the latter so long as they can get the former.

[32]When does he leave us? On Aug. 23, 1886, I saw an astonishing number of Flycatchers all on the same side of an orchard, and felt sure, from their restlessness, that they had assembled, as swallows do, in view of migration. On the 24th I went to S. Wales, where, during a whole week, I only saw one, though they were abundant up to that time. Letters from ornithological friends led me to believe that the birds have almost entirely disappeared from South and East England by about Sept. 12; and Mr. Seebohm is probably right in giving the first week of September as the usual date of their departure. How much less we know of the departure than of the arrival of birds, so quietly do they slip away!

[33]Mr. Seebohm (Brit. Birds, i. 325) tells us of a quiet little warble, so low as to be scarcely heard at a few yards’ distance; but this I have never yet succeeded in catching.

[34]This year (1886) I took all the sparrows’ nests on my house, and examined the young birds. Only one or two young peas and grains had been given them: they had been fed largely on insects.

[35]Mr. Aplin tells me, however, that the upper parts, in summer at least, “have a decided wash or gloss of green”: Mr. Seebohm calls it “dull olive-brown.”

[36]Stone-chats have been observed busy in this way near Oxford.—A. H. M.

[37]The chat of the Whin-chat is a dissyllable, ‘u-tic’; that of the Stone-chat a monosyllable, ‘chat.’ (O. V. A.)

[38]The Meadow Bunting (Emberiza cia) seemed to me, when I met with it in Switzerland this summer, to be more lively and restless than other Buntings.

[39]See Note B at the end of the volume.

[40]Or like a delicate electric bell, heard at some distance, while the door of your room is slowly opened and again closed.

[41]Another cause is doubtless the crescendo and diminuendo which the bird uses: see a valuable note in The Birds of Cumberland, by the Rev. H. A. Macpherson and W. Duckworth.

[42]In May this year (1886) I nearly trod upon a pair of these birds, near the same wood: yet they showed no fear, allowed me to approach them within six paces, and continued to reel close at hand.

[43]As in Milton’s “most musical, most melancholy.” But as Coleridge remarks in a note to his own poem of the Nightingale, in Sibylline Leaves, these words of Milton are spoken in the character of the melancholy man, and have therefore a dramatic rather than a descriptive propriety. Coleridge’s own conception of the song is the true one and most happily expressed.

[44]A Woodpecker on a railway bridge is a curiosity. But a Lesser Spotted bird was once seen on the stonework of the bridge which spans the Chipping Norton branch line, by the Rev. S. D. Lockwood, Rector of my parish, who knows the bird well.

[45]Vol. ii. pp. 461-463. Hickwall seems to be the recognized orthography; but I spell the word as it was pronounced.

[46]They will often build their nests in holes in the timber of the houses. Anderegg tells me that this was the case in his own house two years ago. Nor is this the only instance of the habits of birds being affected by the nature of the house-architecture in these parts; for the House-martins, being unable (I suppose) to make their nests adhere securely against timber, or disliking the large projecting eaves, build in the Haslithal under ledges of rock, and are known there as the Rock-martin, as distinct from the Rock-swallow (Felsenschwalbe), which is the name there given to the Crag-martin. It is well-known that there are places even in England where this bird prefers rocks to houses.

[47]I afterwards saw three of the same species about some stunted thistles on the Furka-pass, at a height of 8000 feet, and on a bitter cold day. See Note D. at end of Volume.

[48]It is worth noting that Knox observed that the progress of the Pied Wagtail is chiefly observable between daybreak and 10 a.m. All the movements I noticed in the Alps were observed during the earlier morning hours.

[49]Ancient Lives of Virgil (Prof. Nettleship), p. 33.

[50]

I Virgil then, of sweet Parthenope

The nursling, woo’d the flowery walks of peace

Inglorious, &c.

[51]“Habuit domum Romae Esquiliis juxta hortos Maecenatianos, quamquam secessu Campaniae Siciliaeque plurimum uteretur.” (Life by Suetonius, ch. 13.)

[52]Plin., N. H. x. 60. Aristotle refutes the fable, which is alluded to by Aristophanes in the Birds (1137). See Arist., H. N. viii. 14. 5.

[53]

And all the while, with hollow voice, thine own

Loved wood-pigeon shall soothe thee, nor alone,

For from the lofty elm the dove shall ever moan.

[54]Eclogue iii. 68.

[55]Columella viii. 8. Cato de Re Rustica, 90.

[56]Philemon Holland so translates palumbes in his version of Pliny.

[57]Nissen, Italische Landeskunde, p. 374.

[58]

But no whit the more

For all expedients tried and travail borne

By man and beast in turning oft the soil,

Do greedy goose and Strymon-haunting cranes

And succory’s bitter fibres not molest

Or shade not injure—

[59]

Time it is to set

Snares for the crane, and meshes for the stag,

And hunt the long-eared hares.

[60]

The Dardanians on the walls raise a shout to the sky.

Hope comes to kindle wrath; they hurl their missiles strongly;

even as under black clouds cranes from the Strymon utter

their signal notes and sail clamouring across the sky, and

noisily stream down the gale.

—Aen. x. 262 foll.

[61]

Never at unawares did showers annoy:

Or, as it rises, the high-soaring cranes

Flee to the hills before it, or, with face

Upturned to heaven, the heifer snuffs the gale

Through gaping nostrils, or about the meres

Shrill-twittering flits the swallow.

—Georgic i. 373.

[62]

In blushing spring

Comes the white bird long-bodied snakes abhor.

—Georg. ii. 320.

[63]Mirabilia 23.

[64]See Petronius, Satyr. 55. Cp. also Juv. Sat. 1, line 116, and Mayor’s note. In the London Zoological Gardens, in March 1889, a pair of Storks were illustrating Petronius’ lines admirably—except in that they were captives.

[65]Gibbon, vol. iv. p. 240, ed. Milman.

[66]Georg. i. 120, 139, 156, 271.

[67]Cic. de Div. i. 29.

[68]N. II. x. 32.

[69]

Then the crow

With full voice, good-for-nought, inviting rain,

Stalks on the dry sand mateless and alone.

—Georg. i. 388.

[70]

Soft then the voice of rooks from indrawn throat

Thrice, four times, o’er repeated, and full oft

On their high cradles, by some hidden joy

Gladdened beyond their wont, in bustling throngs

Among the leaves they riot; so sweet it is

When showers are spent, their own loved nests again

And tender brood to visit.

—Georg. i. 410.

[71]Sundevall (Thierarten des Aristoteles, p. 123) pronounces κόραξ to have been our Raven.

[72]See Newton’s Yarrell, ii. 290.

[73]

Whose weedy water feeds the snow-white swan.

—Georg. ii. 199.

[74]With that a great noise rises aloft in diverse contention, even as when flocks of birds haply settle on a lofty grove, and swans utter their hoarse cry among the vocal pools in the fish-filled river of Padusa.

—Aen. xi. 456; cp. vii. 700.

[75]

When cool eve

Allays the air, and dewy moonbeams slake

The forest glades, with halcyon’s voice the shore

And every thicket with the goldfinch rings.

—Georg. iii. 338.

[76]

Not to the Sun’s warmth there upon the shore

Do halcyons dear to Thetis ope their wings.

—Georg. i. 398.

[77]This exception is singular, as Pliny seems to depend on Aristotle for everything else which he tells about the bird. I am inclined to think that in this case Pliny must have supplemented his master’s account from his own observation. He had a villa on the bay of Naples, which bay was probably the ‘littus’ referred to by Virgil; and both may here have seen the bird on the shore.

[78]I have seen a photograph of this coin, and satisfied myself that the bird was meant for a Tern. But I have so far been unable to discover any connection between Eretria and the ἀλκυὼν. Sundevall is confident that Aristotle’s bird is the Kingfisher.

[79]E.g. Aristotle gives, and Pliny copies from him, an extraordinary account of the nest and eggs. N. H. ix. 14. See Note C, at end of volume.

[80]For the connection between ἄκανθα and ἀκαλανθίς see Conington’s note on Georg. iii. 338.

[81]Theophrastus, for example, applies it to the Egyptian mimosa, the thorns of which lately proved so damaging to our troops in the Soudan. (Lenz, Botanik der Griechen, p. 735.)

[82]There is another reading, ‘et acanthida.’

[83]Κακόβιοι καὶ κακόχροοι, φωνὴν μέντοι λιγυρὰν ἔχουσιν.—Hist. Anim. ix. 17.

[84]A sibilant trill is probably what is meant in a passage of the Greek Anthology (i. 175), λιγυρὸν βομβεῦσιν ἀκανθίδες; suggesting the Grasshopper Warbler (see p. 154), or the Sedge-warbler.

[85]Georg. i. 356 foll. I quote this time Mr. R. D. Blackmore’s admirable rhyming version.

Ere yet the lowering storm breaks o’er the land

A sullen groundswell heaves along the strand,

On mountain heights dry snapping sounds are heard,

The booming shores bedrizzled are and blurred,

And soughs of wind sigh through the forest stirred.

The wave already scarce foregoes the hull

When homeward from the offing flies the gull,

With screams borne inland by the blast; and when

Sea-coots play round the margin of the fen;

The heron quits the marsh where she was bred

And soars upon a cloud far overhead.

[86]Following Keightley’s Commentary, which is the best we possess on Georg. i. 351-423.

[87]Aen. xii. 473. Mr. Mackail translates: “As when a black swallow flits through some rich lord’s spacious house, and circles in flight in the lofty halls, gathering her tiny food for sustenance to her twittering nestlings, and now swoops down the spacious colonnades, now round the wet ponds,” &c.

[88]Aen. ix. 564; xi. 721, 751; xii. 247.

[89]

As in the poplar-shade a nightingale

Mourns her lost young, which some relentless swain,

Spying, from the nest has torn unfledged, but she

Wails the long night, and perched upon a spray

With sad insistence pipes her dolorous strain,

Till all the region with her wrongs o’erflows.

—Georg. iv. 511.

[90]Aen. vi. 309. “Multitudinous as leaves fall dropping in the forests at autumn’s earliest frost, or birds swarm landward from the deep gulf, when the chill of the year routs them over seas and drives them to sunny lands.”

INDEX OF BIRDS MENTIONED IN THE VOLUME.

(The scientific names are those used in Dresser’s List of European Birds.)

A
Accentor, Alpine. Accentor collaris (Scop.), 95, 196.
Accentor, Hedge. Accentor modularis (Linn.), 95.
Aquatic Warbler. Acrocephalus aquaticus (Gmel.), 86.

B
Bittern. Botaurus stellaris (Linn.), 85.
Blackbird. Turdus merula (Linn.), 31, 60, 82, 88.
Blackcap. Sylvia atricapilla (Linn.), 51 foll., 119, 164.
Bonelli’s Warbler. Phylloscopus Bonellii (Vieill.), 109.
Brambling. Frangilla montifringilla (Linn.), 172.
Bullfinch. Pyrrhula europaea (Vieill.), 12, 120.
Bunting, Corn. Emberiza miliaria (Linn.), 139, 149.
Bunting, Reed. Emberiza schoeniclus (Linn.), 149.
Buzzard. Buteo vulgaris (Leach), 88.

C
Chiff-chaff. Phylloscopus collybita (Vieill.), 38, 42 foll., 83, 92. Note B.
Chough, Alpine. Pyrrhocorax alpinus (Koch.), 82, 93, 194, 235.
Chough, Cornish. Pyrrhocorax graculus (Linn.), 93.
Citril Finch. Chrysomitris citrinella (Linn.), 80, 97.
Corncrake. Crex pratensis (Bechst.), 65.
Crane. Grus communis (Bechst.), 224 foll.
Creeper. Certhia familiaris (Linn.), 25, 190.
Crossbill. Loscia curvirostra (Linn.), 188.
Crow. Corvus corone (Linn.), 153, 187, 236, 237.
Cuckoo. Cuculus canorus (Linn.), 125-128.
Curlew. Numenius arquata (Linn.), 143.

D
Dipper. Cinclus aquaticus (Bechst.), 98.
Diver, Great northern. Colymbus glacialis (Linn.), 33.

E
Eagle, Golden. Aquila chrysaetus (Linn.), 92.

F
Fieldfare. Turdus pilaris (Linn.), 35, 143.
Flycatcher, Pied. Muscicapa atricapilla (Linn.), 92, 133.
Flycatcher, Spotted. Muscicapa grisola (Linn.), 65, 130-134.

G
Garden-warbler. Sylvia salicari (Linn.), 51 foll., 88.
Goldfinch. Carduelis elegans (Steph.), 138, 171, 242.
Grasshopper-warbler. Locustella naevia (Bodd.), 154 foll.
Greenfinch. Ligurinus chloris (Linn.), 65, 119.
Gull, Common. Larus canus (Linn.), 141.

H
Hawfinch. Coccothraustes vulgaris (Pall.), 120.
Heron. Ardea cinerea (Linn.), 248.

J
Jackdaw. Corvus monedula (Linn.), 232.
Jay. Garrulus glandarius (Linn.), 153.

K
Kestrel. Falco tinnunculus (Linn.), 32, 141, 154.
Kingfisher. Alcedo ispida (Linn.), 13, 14, 187, 240, 241, 260.

L
Lark, Sky. Alauda arvensis (Linn.), 88.
Linnet. Linota cannabina (Linn.), 171, 172, 244.

M
Magpie. Pica rustica (Scop.), 153.
Marsh Warbler. Acrocephalus palustris (Bechst.), 86.
Martin, Crag. Chelidon rupestris (Scop.), 91, 190.
Martin, House. Chelidon urbica (Linn.), 7, 190, 250.
Missel-thrush. Turdus viscivorus (Linn.), 98, 119.
Moorhen. Gallinula chloropus (Linn.), 13.

N
Nightingale. Daulias luscinia (Linn.), 66, 161 foll., 250.
Nightjar. Caprimulgus europaeus (Linn.), 134.
Nuthatch. Sitta caesia (Wolf), 25, 128.

P
Petrel, Stormy. Procellaria pelagica (Linn.), 33.
Pipit, Tree. Anthus trivialis (Linn.), 153.
Pipit, Water (or Alpine). Anthus spinoletta (Linn.), 94, 194, 196.
Plover, Common. Vanellus vulgaris (Bechst.), 101, 143.
Ptarmigan. Lagopus mutus (Leach), 82, 100.

R
Raven. Corvus corax (Linn.), 232, 234.
Redpoll, Lesser. Linota rufescens (Vieill.), 21, 193, 262.
Redstart. Ruticilla phoenicurus (Linn.), 62, 63, 88, 121.
Redstart, Black. Ruticylla tithys (Scop.), 80, 89, 123 foll., 193.
Redwing. Turdus iliacus (Linn.), 30, 142.
Reed-warbler. Acrocephalus streperus (Vieill.), 41, 56, 57, 86.
Ring-dove. Columba palumbus (Linn.), 219 foll.
Ring-Ousel. Turdus torquatus (Linn.), 82, 98, 151.
Robin. Erithacus rubecula (Linn.), 9, 88, 119, 125-127, 140, 206.
Rock-dove. Columba livia (Bonnat), 219, 221.
Rook. Corvus frugilegus (Linn.), 134, 141, 142.

S
Sandpiper, Common. Totanus hypoleucus (Linn.), 137.
Sandpiper, Green. Totanus ochropus (Linn.), 136, 137.
Sedge-warbler. Acrocephalus schoenobaenus (Linn.), 41, 42, 57.
Serin Finch. Serinus hortulanus (Koch.), 97.
Siskin. Chrysomitris spinus (Linn.), 120.
Snipe, Jack. Gallinago gallinula (Linn.), 24.
Snow-Finch. Montifringilla nivalis (Linn.), 82, 100, 101.
Sparrow. Passer domesticus (Linn.), 64, 88.
Stonechat. Pratincola rubicola (Linn.), 147.
Swallow. Hirundo rustica (Linn.), 7, 90, 201, 250.
Swan. Cygnus musicus (Linn.), 237, 238.
Swift. Cypselus apus (Linn.), 65, 90.
Swift, Alpine. Cypselus melba (Linn.), 91.

T
Teal. Querquedula crecca (Linn.), 241.
Tern. Sterna fluviatilis (Naum.), 33.
Thrush, Song. Turdus musicus (Linn.), 30.
Tit, Blue. Parus caeruleus (Linn.), 29, 105, 151.
Tit, Cole. Parus ater (Linn.), 52, 105.
Tit, Crested. Lophophanes cristatus (Linn.), 106, 184.
Tit, Great. Parus major (Linn.), 29, 105, 151.
Tit, Long-tailed. Acredula caudata (Linn.), 29, 105, 142.
Tit, Marsh. Parus palustris (Linn.), 29, 105.
Turtle-dove. Turtur communis (Selby), 133, 143, 219.

W
Wagtail, Gray. Motacilla melanope (Pall.), 17, 98, 186.
Wagtail, Pied. Motacilla lugubris (Temm.), 87, 148, 186.
Wagtail, White. Motacilla alba (Linn.), 87, 98.
Wagtail, Yellow. Motacilla raii (Bp.), 64, 138.
Wall Creeper. Tichodroma muraria (Linn.), 82, 101.
Wheatear. Saxicola oenanthe (Linn.), 98, 172, 204.
Whinchat. Pratincola rubetra (Linn.), 88, 145, 146.
Whitethroat. Sylvia rufa (Bodd.), 41, 54 foll.
Whitethroat, Lesser. Sylvia curruca (Linn.), 40, 53 foll.
Willow-warbler. Phylloscopus trochilus (Linn.), 40-42, 47, 88.
Wood-pecker, Great Black. Dryocopus martius (Linn.), 104, 184, 185.
Wood-pecker, Green. Gecinus Viridis (Linn.), 26, 165.
Wood-pecker, Lesser-Spotted. Dendrocopus minor (Linn.), 26, 166.
Wood-pecker, Greater-Spotted. Dendrocopus major (Linn.), 181.
Wood-pecker, Three-toed. Picoides tridactylus (Linn.), 104, 191.
Wryneck. Yunx torquilla (Linn.), 167.

Y
Yellow-hammer. Emberiza citrinella (Linn.), 88.

THE END.

A Year with the Birds / Third Edition, Enlarged

About This Book

Note D. Redpolls in the Alps. (p. 195.)

Footnotes

INDEX OF BIRDS MENTIONED IN THE VOLUME.