to only so recently and had easily identified amidst the general chorus, began at length to be replaced by those of the Ring-Ousel, and, though I am doubtless laying myself open to the charge of bad taste, I cannot say that I regretted the exchange.
A shy bird I am inclined to call the Ring-Ousel, for it will fly from rock to rock, generally keeping at a respectful distance; but when the vicinity of its nest is invaded, temerity becomes a very strongly marked characteristic of the species. In common with the Blackbird, it possesses the habit of elevating its tail on alighting, but in my humble judgment its song bears a stronger resemblance to that of the Mistle-Thrush than to that of the Blackbird. I have been fortunate enough to hear the Ring-Ousel and Mistle-Thrush sing within a short range of each other, and, though it is always far from my wish to appear dogmatic, I cannot agree with those writers who rather liken the former's song to that of the commoner species.
The Ring-Ousel also possesses three or four piping, plaintive notes, pee-up, pee-up, pee-up, pee-up, quickly repeated; they sound inexpressibly weird and sad when heard under certain conditions, and are, I believe, the call-notes of the male. While uttering them the bird will not improbably be found perched low down on a rock, and remaining so still that, unless the listener has a first-rate eye, it will be very hard to catch a glimpse of the performer. The alarm-note is a hurried tac, tac, tac.
A nest I found on the morning to which allusion has been made was placed on the ledge of a rock, and contained four eggs; they were greenish blue in ground colour, richly blotched and flecked with purplish brown. In fact, they were typical eggs of the species. Hard by was a Common Buzzard's nest containing two fresh eggs.
I had never considered the Ring-Ousel from an epicurean point of view until the autumn of 1894, when I formed one of a party Grouse-driving on the Stiperstones, a well-known stretch of rough and rocky moorland in Shropshire, when the bird that is so easily recognized by its conspicuous gorget was daintily served up as a second course one evening for my especial benefit. In my opinion it beats all the other members of the family Turdinæ in flavour, but is not comparable with either the Snipe or Land-Rail. I should add, however, that the bird I sampled was in
