Notes on various Birds. By Robert Dick Duncan, Esq.
Allow me to express the delight with which I have hitherto perused 'The Zoologist.' If the following remarks contain anything worthy of record in that periodical, I shall be much gratified.
The Skylark is frequently called the "bird of the dawn," and doubtless the designation is most appropriate. Who can wander forth on a May morning without having recalled to his mind Shakspeare's beautiful song in Cymbeline?
"Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phœbus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes," &c.
A few weeks ago, however, whilst returning home from an evening ramble in Drumshoreland moor, I heard, long after sunset, two skylarks singing their songs. The night was too dark for me accurately to ascertain the hour; but it was so late that it was impossible to recognise, at any distance, individual hedges or fields or woods. As I passed along a lea, a lark commenced warbling in a low inward tone. It seemed as if sitting by the side of its nest, and singing its mate asleep. Soon, however, the notes swelled louder and louder, till the still air of night resounded with its song. The unusual circumstance in a short time awakened another lark in an adjoining field, and then the two emulous creatures strained every nerve. It was a delightful hour to me. As I gazed up into the firmament, and—the earth being enveloped in darkness—could only think of the worlds above, while listening to the songs of the larks, I felt as if for once I had an angel's ear, and heard the music of the spheres.
The Titlark (Anthus arboreus), is generally reckoned a 'rara avis' in the Lothians. This year, however, three pairs have taken up their summer residence in our neighbourhood. For a long time I confounded this bird with its friend the titling; but, as in the case of Mr. Weir, the discovery of its nest, and its almost invariable habit of rising from and alighting on trees, at length convinced me that I had the pleasure of being acquainted with two of the pipit family.
The Fieldfare. The roost of the fieldfares has often been adverted to. Selby, Jardine, Thompson, &c, contrary to the assertions of other naturalists, tell us that they occasionally resort to pines and
