movements, more especially in October, keeping much to the beach and vicinity of the North Denes.[1] Amongst many observations made, the following few may be of interest:—I noticed that Larks were our commonest immigrants. Before daybreak their call-note might be heard as they "struck" shore. As light dawned they might be seen skimming shorewards just above the waves; as the day wore on they gradually flew higher, till sometimes a great altitude was obtained by succeeding flocks. Larks usually fly in from direct east. Fieldfares and Redwings generally arrived from north-east. Rooks and Hooded Crows at ordinary times leisurely trooped in, flying east to west. Occasionally "rushes" of these Corvidæ, more particularly Rooks, strike the coast farther north, and lead along, in quick succeeding flocks, the line of trees bordering Caister road. Small birds usually do the same, Linnets, Twites, and such like keeping more to the cliffs and sand-hills, in which line of flight the bird-catchers fix their nets. Jackdaws often mix with other corvine immigrants, and invariably are noisy, except when with the "rushes" referred to. My experience leads me to believe that by the first week in November the majority of immigrants have arrived, and not till the first spell of severe weather sets in does another movement take place, and that November generally is our dullest local bird-month. Lightship men, who formerly captured many tired migrants on board, complain of a falling off in late years. The autumn arrivals of 1899 were scanty, beyond the fairly regular incoming of Rooks, Hooded Crows, and Larks. But early in December the weather set in cold, with wind at southeast. On the night of the 6th it was squally; the air was "alive" with cries of Golden Plover, which were plentiful on the marshes on the 8th. Snow fell on the 10th, with sharp frost ensuing. Snipe, which had hitherto been scarce, "inrushed" to the brackish ditches on the marsh-lands, Common and Jacks being shot in unusual numbers. I believe this abundance was, in Norfolk at least, universal. On a local game-stall I saw the following numbers of Snipe:—
Dec. 11th.—47 Common Snipe, 17 Jack-Snipe.
Dec. 12th.—(Almost identical numbers.)
- ↑ My spare time and many nights are now spent on Breydon, to and from, and in my houseboat.
