The Zoologist/4th series, vol 5 (1901)/Issue 720/Notes and Queries
NOTES AND QUERIES.
MAMMALIA.
CARNIVORA.
The Aardwolf (Proteles cristatus) in the Transvaal Colony.—On Aug. 10th, 1900, when coming back from a visit to Zuurfontein Station, I saw an Aardwolf out on the veld. I drove towards him, but he took no more notice of me than he would of a post. When I got to within a distance of about twenty yards from him he looked up and stared at me. I approached a few yards nearer: there stood the brute in broad daylight, not fifteen yards distant, contemplating me with the utmost sangfroid. I called out, whereupon he uttered a few snorts or grunts, and made off at a clumsy trot, his hind quarters sloping so much as to appear a burden to him. After putting a dozen yards or so between us, he stood still again, and watched me slyly. He appeared to be doing an extraordinary thing, viz. stalking "Crown-headed" Lapwings, or "Kwikies," as they are locally termed, as he quietly continued to slink after them. His utter contempt for my presence seemed to point to the fact that he knew perfectly well I had not the wherewithal to harm him. After shouting and driving towards him, he made off again at a trot, every now and then breaking into a clumsy gallop, and ever and anon standing and looking back. It was half-past five in the afternoon, and the sun was not yet touching the horizon. Extreme hunger could have alone driven the brute out at such an hour. A few evenings before a friend of mine shot one about three miles from the spot where I saw my specimen, though it was absolutely dusk and among trees, whereas my animal was out on the flat veld.—A.C. Haagner (Modderfontein).
[This animal appears to be changing what was considered as its purely insectivorous diet. Mr. W.L. Sclater ('Mammals of South Africa,' vol. i. p. 82) has recently recorded that farmers have found that their sheep and kids are attacked by this animal; and Mr. Haagner has now seen it hunting Lapwings. Nicolls and Eglington, in their 'Sportsman in South Africa,' seem to correctly describe the food of this animal as consisting "of insects and reptiles, as well as small animals (mammals) and birds."—Ed.]
Suggested Mimicry of the South African Weasel.—It seems possible that the Snake-Weasel (Pœcilogale albinucha) of South Africa mimics the Polecat or Muishond (Zorilla striata) of the same region. How this is done, in what direction it lies, and the reasons, I will proceed to try and explain, or rather offer the following explanation:—Both these animals are black with white stripes down the back; both are moreover very much alike in looks, notwithstanding the marked generic differences. Now "Zorilla striata" is defended by its power of emitting a strong odour at will, thus resembling the American Skunks, and "Pœcilogale albinucha" is not so defended. As they reside in much the same localities, and, as far as I know, their habits are also similar, we may infer herefrom that the latter animal mimics the former. The Stink-muishond, as the mimicked is generally called in South Africa, is nocturnal, although it may be, and has been, caught wandering about shortly before and after sunset. They are noted poultry-stealers, and if one, during a nocturnal visit to a poultry-yard, happens to be disturbed or irritated in any way by something or other which may cause the animal to emit the renowned (?) stench, the smell is fearful and very apparent to anyone entering the poultry-yard next morning, and may hang about the place for days. I have seen this animal chased by Dogs, and no sooner did they get near the Polecat than it halted, humped up its back, emitted a sort of purr, raised the long hair on its back, and—phew! the Dogs made off in the opposite direction, howling dismally. Sportsmen-friends of mine tell me that Dogs do attack this animal.[1] In this case they have another trick to fall back upon—that of feigning death. Here the smell always present in the animal must no doubt assist in completing the delusion. I have myself seen one, on getting timely knowledge of the approach of Dogs, quietly stretch itself out and feign death, allowing the canine enemy to approach quite close, and even smell it. The Dogs in this case do nothing but walk away again. Now the Weasel, through natural selection—adaptation to circumstances—may mimic the warning colours of the Polecat. In addition to this it feigns death as good as the mimicked animal, and, what is more, has much the same odour as the Polecat, without the gift of being able to emit the awful stench so characteristic of the former. I would be very glad if any reader of 'The Zoologist' would give his experiences or ideas, either to corroborate the above or prove it without foundation. I think it well worth while investigating, and as matters stand I think I am justified in my opinions and deductions. Of course, until more is known of the habits of these two animals, one will never be able to reason clearly.—Alwin C. Haagner (Modderfontein, Transvaal Colony).
RODENTIA.
Climbing Powers of the Long-tailed Field-Mouse.—In 1899 my friend Mr. C. Oldham contributed a note to 'The Zoologist' (p. 27) on the climbing powers of the Long-tailed Field-Mouse, in which he described its habit of using an old birds'-nest as a platform on which to eat the hips gathered from the wild rose trees, or acorns carried up from the ground. For some time before we captured a number of Long-tailed Field-Mice on these nests, we had been puzzled by the litter of gnawed kernels and pulp which filled the nests, and, although we made many enquiries, we could not find out that anyone had ascertained what species was responsible. A few days ago I was looking through a volume of children's poems—Mary Howitt's 'Sketches of Natural History,' 1834, and I came across the following verse in a poem on the Wood-Mouse:—
"In the Hedge-Sparrow's nest he sits,
When its summer brood is fled,
And picks the berries from the bough
Of the hawthorn overhead."
From the context it is perfectly clear that Mary Howitt refers to Mus sylvaticus. In nests, besides hips, we have found haws, seeds of the blackberry and holly, and stones of the sloe, from all of which the kernel has been extracted in a similar manner by chiselling off one end.—T.A. Coward (Bowdon, Cheshire).
The Coloration of the Variable Hare.—My friend Mr. Coward's note on the above subject (ante, p. 73) interested me not a little, especially in regard to some questions indirectly touched therein. Firstly, regarding the introduction of Scotch Hares into England or Wales, and the retention by them when in presumably milder surroundings of their original white winter coloration, I am aware of several similar instances. In fact, it may be taken as the rule, that when variable Hares are transferred from Scotland to some more southern country they will continue to assume their white winter coat, apparently to the same extent as when in their natural surroundings. Sooner or later, however, the habit is usually dropped, but I am in want of exact statistics as to the manner in which the change is effected. I am not aware, in fact, whether the originally transferred individuals gradually change less and less white in each succeeding season, or whether it is only in their progeny that the white colour ceases to appear. Mr. Coward's letter seems to supply a fact of interest in this connection, since he states that the Hares which formed the subject of his note are the descendants of some Perthshire animals which were exported about twenty years ago. In this case, unless, indeed, the climate of their new home is sufficiently severe to keep the white winter coat in constant use, we might perhaps assume that the loss of the winter coat may not be effected even after a period of twenty years. Secondly, Mr. Coward's words—"the Hares were still in their white winter pelage, though most of them had already patches of brown about the head and flanks" (in March, 1899)—seem to imply his surprise that the mild weather had not the effect of causing the Hares to reassume their darker pelage. Now it is my experience that, whatever be the cause and date of the assumption of the winter coat, once assumed it cannot be thrown off until the regular annual moulting time—in my experience the first week of May. Thus I have already recorded the incongruous spectacle of a Hare of Scotch blood browsing the flowery pastures of late April in the South of Ireland, the while clothed in a conspicuous livery of white. And the same thing happened in the case of a Hare kept captive at Cambridge. The patches of brown seen by Mr. Coward were not then, as his remarks would imply, the advance guard of the dark coat of summer, but the rearguard of that of the previous summer, to which the winter change had never extended. Before concluding this short note, I should like to mention (what, indeed, has been partly the cause of my having written) how grateful I shall always be for any information which may tend to throw light upon the interesting question of winter whitening in animals.—G.E.H. Barrett-Hamilton (Kilmanock, Arthurstown, Waterford, Ireland).
AVES.
Curious Accident to a Young Mistle-Thrush.—A friend of mine in Hampstead caught a young Mistle-Thrush (Turdus viscivorus) in his garden, which was not old enough to fly, and put it into a cage to preserve it from Cats. On handling the bird the first time he noticed what appeared to be a skewer sticking out about half an inch near the left shoulder, and which was apparently securely imbedded. When examining the bird I found that a twig was firmly fixed, and upon pulling out the same with some effort it proved to be an inch and a half in length, and an eighth of an inch in diameter. The point was stuck into the membrane of the left wing close to the bend, and penetrated nearly half an inch below the skin. The bird did not appear to suffer any pain, though quite a deep hole was left where the twig had been. The piece of stick is before me as I write, and is clotted with some little blood, and a number of small feathers are adhering to the larger half. Had the bird not been relieved from the stick it is conceivable that the latter would have become even more firmly imbedded, and ultimately prevented the use of the wing altogether. The outer end of the twig has apparently been broken off, which tends to show that it may have been considerably longer when first it came in contact with the bird. One solution as to how the bird became transfixed is that it may have fallen out of the nest on to a small branch with an upturned sharp-pointed twig, and in falling the latter, being firmly fixed in the bird, was broken off from the main stem.—Basil W. Martin (Elm House, Hampstead).
Active Mimicry by the Chaffinch.—I recently observed the nest of a Chaffinch (Fringilla cœlebs) near my house, in a hedge by the turnpike-road, and built in a blackthorn-bush in full bloom. In order, I imagine, to make the nest as little distinguishable as possible from its surroundings, the birds had dotted it all over with small pieces of white paper; one fragment which I detached appeared to be blotting-paper. Passing the place a few days since I noticed that all the bloom had fallen from the bush, and that all the pieces of paper had been removed from the nest. This had not been disturbed, and contained eggs. It seems a fair inference that the birds recognized that their object in putting the scraps of paper about the nest was likely to be defeated when the blossom fell away, and accordingly removed them.—R.H. Ramsbotham (The Hall, Meole Brace, Shrewsbury).
Rose-coloured Pastor in Kent.—A fine adult male of the Rosecoloured Pastor (Pastor roseus) was obtained on May 14th last near Appledore, in Romney Marsh, Kent. It was sent for preservation to Mr. G. Bristow of this town, to whose kindness I am indebted for the privilege of examining the specimen in the flesh.—L.A. Curtis Edwards (31, Magdalen Road, St. Leonards-on-Sea).
[This record is an interesting one to ornithologists, but describes a distinct disregard to the laws relating to a close-time for birds.—Ed.][2]
The Lesser Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopus minor).—I have read Mr. Stanley Lewis's note (ante, p. 184) with much interest, but I regret that I cannot support his suggestion that this Woodpecker produces its vibrating sounds by any exercise of the laryngeal muscles. In a note which I drew up for Dr. A.G. Butler, and which he printed at length in 'British Birds, their Nests and Eggs' (vol. iii. p. 29), I have discussed the subject. The method by which the vibratory sound is produced is, that the bird employs its bill to strike one particular piece of bark again and again with extraordinary rapidity. It is not peculiar to either sex. Both sexes are expert in the production of this curious effect. In 1894 it was my good fortune to acquire a pair of Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers. They lived in an aviary-cage beside my bed, and entertained me with their lively actions from break of day onwards. They knew me so intimately that they allowed me to follow their every movement. I wrote pages and pages about them with the birds at my side, when the majority of people were sleeping soundly. The male died in the following winter, but the female lived in my possession until she escaped through an open window in the summer of 1895. I feel sure that if Mr. Stanley Lewis will keep this Woodpecker in captivity, he will endorse my explanation of the way in which the sound which has interested him is produced. There is nothing so satisfactory as personal experience.—H.A. Macpherson (Pitlochry, N.B.).
Red-footed Falcon (Falco vespertinus) in Shropshire.—On May 18th a specimen of this rare Falcon was shot near Shrewsbury, and I examined it in the flesh. It is an immature female measuring 12 in. long; wing not quite 10 in. Amongst the contents of the stomach was an unmistakable Shrew (Sorex vulgaris). Few birds of prey except Owls will eat Shrews, probably because of their odour; so it is of interest to find that these form part of the diet of F. vespertinus. As the specific name indicates, this species seeks its prey chiefly in the evening. It has occurred twice previously in Shropshire (cf. 'Fauna of Shropshire,' p. 137).—H.E. Forrest (Shrewsbury).
Nesting of the Pigmy Falcon (Microhierax eutolmus) in Upper Burma.—The simple but wasteful system of taungya cultivation is pursued by a large proportion of the inhabitants of the villages in Upper Burma, and also by the wild tribes—Karens, Shans, Lishaws, &c.—who keep, as a rule, to the wilder tracts in the mountains. In cultivation by taungya, a patch of forest is chosen, often containing valuable timber, and the whole of the growth on it is felled, and left for a couple of months to dry, and then burnt, the ashes forming a rich manure. Occasionally a number of the larger hardwood trees, such as Pyinkado (Xylia dolabriformis), Pyinma (Lagerstrœmia flos-reginæ), &c., are only girdled—i.e. the bark and sap-wood cut through all round, and the tree allowed to die and decay standing. These solitary dead trees in taungya areas are much frequented for nesting purposes by the various wood-boring birds—Woodpeckers, Nuthatches. Barbets, &c. On April 23rd, 1899, in a deserted taungya alongside the high road leading from Thabeitkyin, on the bauks of the Irrawaddy above Mandalay, to Mogok, the site of the famous ruby mines of Upper Burma, I saw a Pigmy Falcon (Microhierax eutolmus) disappear into a hole on the under side of a branch excavated in a large dead tree. The dead and splitting bark and some horizontal lower branches made the ascent to the nest easy, and I was able to climb up and inspect the nest-hole. This was evidently once made by a Barbet, but whether the rightful owner had been ejected by the Falcon, or whether it was an old Barbet's nest-hole, I could not say; anyhow, it was occupied by the little Falcon. On enlarging the hole I was able to look into the nest, which was laid at the end of a tunnel dug out of the wood, about fifteen inches long. Nest, properly speaking, there was none, but where the tunnel ended in a slightly enlarged and oval chamber there was placed a fairly firm pad of chips of wood, a few leaves, with an upper stratum quite two inches thick composed almost entirely of the wings of Cicadas, with a few butterfly and moth wings interspersed therein. To my disappointment, I found neither eggs nor nestlings. During the rifling of their nest both the male and female Falcons sat on a neighbouring tree, but made no demonstration of any kind. Further south, in Tenasserim, I found the eggs of this Falcon in a precisely similar situation early in April, as well as I can remember. That nest was composed almost entirely of butterfly wings.—C.T. Bingham.
AMPHIBIA.
Palmate Newt (Molge palmata) in Carnarvonshire.—On May 12th I found a small pond at the back of the Little Orme's Head teeming with Palmate Newts. There were also numbers of Great Crested Newts, but no Common Newts, nor could I find any of the latter elsewhere in the district. The male Palmate Newts were all showing in perfection the webbed feet and tail-filament characteristic of the breeding season. The females were still full of spawn, and some that I brought away have laid eggs since in the aquarium.—H.E. Forrest (Shrewsbury).
PISCES.
File Fish off Brighton.—Thinking it may interest the readers of 'The Zoologist,' I am sending (in place of a description) a rough sketch of
a File Fish (Balistes capriscus), taken about five miles off Brighton on the 10th October, 1900, which has been presented to the Brighton Museum by Mr. W.F. Goodwin. Though common in the Atlantic, I believe its capture on this part of the coast is a very rare occurrence.—Herbert S. Toms, Acting Curator (Brighton Public Museum).
[The above figure differs somewhat from that given by Couch, in which the apical margin of the tail and the outer margins of the fins are very much more concave. I have, however, compared the drawing sent us by Mr. Toms with a spirit specimen from Madeira in the British Museum, with which it agrees. Jordan and Evermann, in their recently published 'Fishes of North and Middle America (p. 1701), describe its distribution as "Tropical parts of the Atlantic; occasionally northward in the Gulf Stream; very common on our coast and in the Mediterranean, rarely north to England." Under the name of Balistes carolinensis, they figure the species, in which the tail and fins differ from Couch, and agree with our diagrammatic figure.
Of this rare fish, Couch gives three instances in which it has been caught in British seas. In 'The Zoologist' (1868, p. 1027) Mr. Cordeaux reports a capture off the Flamborough coast; but Messrs. Clarke and Roebuck (Zool. 1884, p. 183) state that they had satisfied themselves that that fish was an Opah. In the same volume (p. 472) is an extract from the 'Field,' recording a capture near Folkestone in September of that year. The peculiar structure of the first dorsal fin is generally known. Frank Bucklaud wrote that he had shown it to his friend, a well-known gun and rifle maker of Newcastle-on-Tyne, who was so struck with its conformation that he promised to try and adapt its principle for some of his safety-rifle locks (Nat. Hist. Brit. Fishes).—Ed.]
THE PROTECTION OF BRITISH BIRDS.
The Society for the Protection of our British Birds—a society which is trying to do a great deal of good in many ways—some time ago offered two prizes of ten and five pounds respectively for the two best essays on the subject. These have just recently been awarded. The question of protection to be accorded to our British birds, many of which are sadly in need of it, is a somewhat difficult one to deal with. That overworked, heterogeneous combination known as the Government has, in these stirring times, but little space to devote to legislation on the matter; and even were legislation satisfactorily accomplished, there yet remains the still more difficult matter of enforcing the law. Unfortunately, as at present administered, the Wild Birds' Protection Act is, in many places, little better than a dead letter, and were it not that private enterprise frequently steps in, it would be reduced to a mere farce. What is the use of fining a man a nominal sum, when he has a wealthy collector behind his back, ready and willing to pay all his expenses, with a substantial margin for himself to boot? Is this likely to prove any deterrent? I would have every bird that was not proved to be distinctly injurious to agricultural or horticultural produce properly protected for a certain season by a proper law, properly enforced; and should any bonâ fide collectors desire eggs or specimens of any particular species, they should, on payment of a fixed fee, receive a proper permit to acquire the same. When the true history of the gradual extermination of many of our rare and interesting birds comes to be written, a very heavy indictment will have to be laid at the door of the egg-robber, who takes every clutch that he can come across, if perchance one should differ slightly from the rest. Drainage and reclamation of the bird's favourite haunts, and the increase and spread of an ever-growing population, are very important factors in the case, but the trail of the egg-collector is over them all; and the worst of it is that many collectors pose as naturalists with their right hand, and with their left employ men, honest enough fellows as a rule, but in these hard times glad enough to earn an additional penny, to collect for them every clutch of the eggs of some particular bird that they can come across. Such a collector can only be compared to his ornithological prototype, that arch-robber the Carrion Crow. Birds which are rare in one particular place are generally pretty common in some other locality; and it has always been a mystery to me why such ridiculously high prices should be offered by collectors for certain British taken eggs, when these are common enough upon the Continent. The eggs of certain birds have acquired an altogether fictitious value, and as a consequence are practically farmed by certain people to whom their nesting haunts are known. Here in Yorkshire a great amount of good has been done by the extension of the close-season, so that now most of the vast concourse of seafowl that breed in the cliffs, in certain places, get off their young in safety; but before that happy event, as I have mentioned elsewhere, cruelty, which I can only characterize as damnable, used to be practised. So-called sportsmen used to go out, on the opening day, with the avowed intention of firing away so many cartridges; they never even troubled to pick up one quarter of what they shot; and I have witnessed the pitiable sight of a wounded Guillemot, with broken wing and its wounds exposed to the salt sea-water, trying to clamber up the cliff with a fish in its bill, to its starving young one, many of which perished through the death or maiming of their parents.
Conversant as I am with almost every phase of Yorkshire bird-life, I have often procured immunity for certain species by the judicious distribution of a little of the current coin of the realm; but at the same time I have at times been obliged to witness scenes of which I thoroughly disapproved, but which I was powerless to prevent; and so, to a certain extent, like Naaman the Syrian, I have been compelled to bow myself down in the House of Rimmon. Ladies have much to answer for as regards the slaughter of birds. At a certain village on the coast a large trade is still done in shooting the beautiful Terns or Sea-Swallows, and the Kittiwakes, for millinery purposes. Seven boats used to be employed; now, I am glad to say, there are but two. Thanks to the afore-mentioned extension of the close-time, most of the Terns are gone, and the pretty tame little Kittiwakes provide the greatest number of victims. During the third week in October, 1899, 120 were shot in one day, 96 on another, and 60 on the morning of October 30th. Some 360 were shot during the week. A man from London was occupied in skinning the birds, which at this season will keep for about a week. Some 260 birds were hanging up on October 30th, waiting to be skinned. When this operation is over the birds are packed up and forwarded to London. Sixpence apiece is the price paid. Now, I do not blame the men who obtain these birds—they are hard-working, honest fellows, not overburdened with this world's goods—nearly as much as I blame those who employ them, or those who reap the fruit of their labours. Qui facit per alium, facit per se. The men pursue a perfectly legitimate calling, when everyone is free to shoot what they will; but this wholesale destruction of beautiful birds is very grevious, all the more so when one considers that it is perpetrated for the adorning of ladies' hats and bonnets; and I feel sure that if only those ladies who love to adorn themselves with birds' feathers, wings, and bodies knew half the abominable cruelty that is perpetrated, in various parts of the world, at the shrine of the Goddess of Fashion,—feathers plucked out of the living bird, wings torn off while they are yet alive, and the mangled remains thrown back on the salt-water to linger in agony, till death comes as a merciful relief to their sufferings,—they would for ever forswear ornaments purchased at the price of such terrible suffering. With regard to the senseless destruction of those most useful birds, Owls and Kestrels, I am very glad to say that a far more enlightened view obtains at the present day, both with game-preservers and with game-keepers, and it is comparatively seldom that one comes across their mangled remains hanging up in the keeper's "museums." That most excellent and practical ornithologist and lover of birds, the late Lord Lilford, used to say that the man who would shoot an Owl was only fit for a lunatic asylum, and the sheltering ægis of many a landowner is now extended to them. One thing I should like to see entirely abolished by Act of Parliament, and that is that most iniquitous institution known as the "pole-trap." I regard it as a veritable invention of the Evil One, and I make no excuse for having buried dozens of them. They not only catch the various species of Hawks and Owls for which they are set, but I have known Cuckoos, Nightjars, Wheatears, Ring-Ouzels, Meadow-Pipits, and even Grouse to be caught in them; and these unfortunate birds are often left for hours, sometimes for days, hanging in lingering misery with a broken limb, till either death from exhaustion, or a knock on the head from a belated keeper on his weekly rounds, at last puts an end to their sufferings. To my mind the best mode of opening the eyes of the public to the wanton and senseless destruction of birds, is by getting the children in the various schools interested in them, and taking them out at least on one afternoon during the summer months, and explaining to them the various birds, mammals, reptiles, insects, flowers, &c., that are to be met with in such a ramble; also by the giving of lectures by practical people, who know what they are talking about, to the landowners, gamekeepers, collectors, gardeners, &c. A vast amount of nonsense is unfortunately both talked and written upon the subject by the ignorant, and then far more harm than good is unwittingly wrought. Some few are, I believe, beyond reclamation.
Much may be done by private enterprise, and here in Yorkshire several of us, who are much interested in preserving from extinction some of our rarer breeding species, have employed a watcher with marked success. Many landowners and game-preservers only need to have the usefulness of certain birds pointed out to them, by those who know what they are talking about, to give immediate orders for their protection; and children can be easily trained to take an interest in these things, and not destroy them. I would be the last to advocate Draconian methods, as in these days by so doing we should defeat the very object that we desire to attain, and many a well-known naturalist has been induced to take up some special study, through the pleasure derived from a day's bird's-nesting in his boyhood. Nor would I ever try to hinder the perfectly legitimate shooting of birds in moderation during the proper season; but while I yield to no one in my love of sport—in pursuit of which I have sat for hours in a hole dug out on the mud flats, waiting for wildfowl to drift in with the tide or pass over at flight-time, with the thermometer standing at many degrees below freezing point; have worked a single-handed punt on the flood water till my hands were so numb with ice and frost that when I got up to the Ducks I could hardly pull the trigger of the big gun; and have been out at sea all day in a small yacht in a driving snow-storm, on the mere chance of a shot—yet I can safely say that I have never killed for killing's sake. The birds I have shot were mostly waifs and strays, here to-day and gone to-morrow; and it gives me far greater pleasure and interest to lay aside the gun and rifle, and take up the field-glass and watch the birds at home in their natural haunts and surroundings. I would far sooner do this than destroy and preserve for my collection any of the rare and beautiful birds that would remain and breed with us, if only their arch-enemy, the man with the gun, would allow them to do so. I believe most fully in the principle of "live and let live," and consider it a thousand pities that certain birds—e.g. game—should be protected at the expense of the extinction of certain other beautiful birds—viz. the Jay and the Magpie. Of course I well know that these two are inveterate egg-stealers, nor would I for a moment recommend too many to be kept on an estate, but a pair or two add much interest and beauty to the landscape; and I hold that no true sportsman would utterly exterminate these birds, even though they caused him to lose a few gamebirds' eggs every year. In the same way I am glad to say that the stately though destructive Heron is not utterly exterminated on our trout streams, and I hope devoutly that it will be many a long day before such is the case. To sum up, I do not think that any real assistance can be expected from public bodies in the matter of bird protection. They hesitate to devote public funds to matters which they, in common with many officers of the law, look upon purely as a question of sentiment; and, therefore, if any real good is to be done, our sheet-anchor is private enterprise. We have legislation dealing with the matter, but unfortunately those who are most eager for legislation very often, when they have got it, are the most remiss in seeing that it is enforced.—Oxley Grabham.
[Among the most destructive agents to bird-life, I would instance village children and Cats. On the Surrey hills I have absolute knowledge of the eggs of Blackbirds, Thrushes, and other birds having been cooked and eaten when a successful day's collecting has been accomplished, such as the acquisition of more than fifty eggs by one boy alone. During two seasons, among the many nests constructed in my garden at Warlingham, not a single brood was reared. A lady in my immediate neighbourhood possessed three "magnificent" Cats, as I heard them described. These brutes were pampered by day, and always turned out at night. All my garden nests were rifled when the young were nearly fledged. One of these furies I privately buried; the other two escaped many dangers. These Cats were practically bird-eaters.—Ed.]
- ↑ The Polecat is, however, bound to have many enemies less plucky than a Dog.—A.C.H.
- ↑ One of the "Hastings Rarities"? (Wikisource-Ed.)