Compare, now, the two instances, observed by me, of a Hawk first flying with Great Plovers, then with Peewits. The Hawk being a bird of prey, an evil intention is, of course, the first and most natural hypothesis. He is a "suspect," and must take the consequences (which, here, will not be very serious for him). Yet I recall that, even with the Plovers, where this theory seemed most tenable, it did not impress me in that way at the time, though, on reflection, it seemed more and more likely. There (I believe) it was a Sparrow-Hawk, but in the other instance it was a Kestrel—and who can credit a Kestrel with having any serious designs upon Peewits? Afterwards, when it was on the ground, tearing prey, the Peewits all round and about did not betray the smallest apprehension. In the case of the Sparrow-Hawk with the Plovers, it may have been different; but with regard to their actions afterwards, these may have been due to myself, for though I lay as flat as I could, yet I was no doubt visible, the bank at that part not being clothed with bracken. Also, an incident, which I did not trouble to record, had just before occurred—viz. that some men with carts on the road, seeing me crawling flat in the heather, had thought I had broken a leg or otherwise hurt myself, and one of them (a delicious rustic) had walked up to me to make sure. This had put the birds up. The Hawk incident occurred later, after they had gone down again, with a small band of birds that had flown up to join them. But being put up once, and seeing me on the bank all the time, assuming that they did, may have caused the general disquietude I noted, and the Hawk may not have produced it. At any rate, here is one instance, as it appears to me, of a Hawk flying with a flock of birds for pleasure merely, and without a serious design upon them.
About 7.30 or 8 a small group of the Plovers rose from one part of the amphitheatre, and flew to another. In a few minutes they again rose, and, after circling about a little, flew away towards the heather, going straight towards the accustomed place. They numbered twenty-six, for, as they stretched out into a long irregular line, I was able to count them. They were followed shortly by another flight of thirty-three. But it soon appeared that they had not left the one gathering-ground to go to the other spontaneously (as I thought had been the case), but
