rest, or pursue their journey. Thus the Golden Plover, the Knot, and many others are often to be met with a few hours after a shift of wind. The following "entry" from my note-book is a case in point:—
Sept. 30th, 1899.—Wind veered yesterday from south-west to south-east. Rough wet night. To-day Breydon was noisy with birds; saw some Turnstones and Whimbrel; number of Grey Plovers, some Greenshanks, and many small birds. Many scores of Grey Plovers were subsequently shot.
A similar occurrence is noted for September, 1897, as follows:—
Sept. 5th.—A "rush" of migratorial birds; wind suddenly veering to east after continuous west and south-west winds. Next day, Sept. 6th, on a game-stall, the following birds were exposed for sale:—Ten Godwits, one Shelduck, one Scaup, nine Curlew Sandpipers, one Reeve, one Greenshank, twenty Knots, two Kingfishers.
That the movements of certain birds are a fairly reliable indication that some atmospheric disturbance is approaching seems to my mind beyond dispute. Note the following entries:—
Nov. 23rd, 1897.—Extraordinary thick fog.
Nov. 24th.—Night noisy with cries of Plovers; this, with certain other birds being "uneasy," portending bad weather. (The weather changed almost immediately after.)
Nov. 28th.—Blew hard to-day (and next), the gale causing havoc all round the neighbourhood. Tide rose to an alarming height. The sea broke through the sand-hills at Horsey.
South-east winds are more favourable to the migratorial birds passing along our shores, whilst that from an opposite quarter, or from a westerly direction, will favour the Dutch coast-line, to the detriment of our own. With light north-west winds and moonlight nights, during October and November, the Woodcock is anxiously looked for. Westerly winds have been responsible for the visits of a few American wanderers—for instance, the Great Spotted Cuckoo. Severe winters, with much snow, drive numerous wanderers south, and there can be little doubt that many birds which rush ahead of hard weather have put off their exit until absolutely driven to it. In the cruel January of 1881, the day before the fearfully disastrous gale on our coast, I wit-
