like a true tree-creeper.[1] I was, as I say, quite close, and watched it most attentively. It certainly—as far as good looking can settle it—did not assist itself with the wings. They remained close against the sides, or, if they moved at all, it was imperceptible to my eyes (which, by the way, are non-pareils). Nevertheless, at a later period—for I followed along the trees—when I watched it at only a few paces off, it as certainly appeared that it did use the wings, advancing up the trunk by flutterings, but these were so small and slight, and raised the bird so imperceptibly from the surface of the trunk, that it had all the while the appearance of creeping. As I was still closer to the bird during the latter part of my watching, it may be thought that this alone represents the actual fact; but, for my part, I cannot help thinking that my eyesight served me upon each occasion. If so, then here is more 'richness,' from a Darwinian point of view. The tits, it will be remembered, differed individually, but in this wren there was a personal variation. He could creep, in ascending, without using his wings, and generally did so; still he sometimes broke into a little flutter, which, in a more pronounced form, had been prevalent in his youth. His father always did it in this way, and there were very old wrens still living who only flew up a trunk. But this was thought very old-fashioned."
It will not be forgotten how this bird flew from the point which it had reached on one tree, right down to the roots of another, and ascended from these.
- ↑ I allude to the apparent motion. The tree-creeper itself, I believe, really hops.
