[From Bird-Life in the Isle of Man]

WOOD-LARK

Late in November 1930, on Clay Head, Cregeen and I came on what appeared to be a very tired bird which, for the moment, I took to be a sky-lark. Cregeen said that it was a strange bird to him, and, knowing his marvellous sight, I joined in a "still hunt" and we got within close range. It was Wood-lark without doubt, from its size and appearance, and the big whitish eye-stripe. The question was finally settled when it rose at last and called. There had been a very severe storm the day before.

SKY-LARK

Is there anything more thrilling when in the early days of the year the first attempts of the cheery song of the Sky-lark are heard as it starts to soar upwards, a song so exhilarating on a murky grey day as a re- minder that spring is.coming? But this early essay, with but a slight uplifting from earth, is as nothing compared with the glorious melody that charms the ear later on in the spring, when this wonderful bird soars up and up into the sky until almost out of sight, as if it would never come down, and trilling all the time until at last it glides gracefully to earth once more to rejoin its mate. It is all so refreshing to watch, that one wonders how anyone can have the heart to imprison these beauteous songsters which are only meant for green places and vast heights.

Always so cheerful is the sky-lark, whether in winter it is disturbed off the field and rises in a flock to settle elsewhere with a happy twitter; or in the days of spring, when one meets it face to face on a grassy stretch and it wonders at you with big eyes before it springs off into the air.

Always sociable, it is to be found in big crowds, ever busy in the fields and the open spaces, the hill-sides and the shore.

Then when the courting time comes, and it spreads its wings on high before its mate, it is always on good terms with the world, and its mate in particular.

The nest of the sky-lark is beautifully constructed — on the ground — and is mostly of grass and as a rule well concealed ; and the bird often sits very tight until nearly trodden on before it flies off. The young birds are funny-looking little chaps, with very dark feathers and big yellow bills.

This bird is, needless to say, one of the commonest in the Island, and I can say that there is no doubt that there is much movement North and South at different periods of the year, and it would be hard to say how many are really resident. And thanks be that it is not shot here for a mere mouthful of meat, as it is in neighbouring countries.

TREE-PIPIT

This is another bird which would be a truly joyous addition to our Island summer visitors; I confess that its somewhat plaintive song hasa great attraction for me, as the bird goes flying off the top of its own particular tree and mounts up singing all the time, and then comes floating down back to its tree as the song slowly dies away. But its visits here, from my personal observation, are but few, and probably accid- ental.

In the autumn I have had in my hands three birds killed at Point of Ayre lighthouse. In the spring I once saw a fine specimen near the shore at Carlane ; it perched for some time on the bank above the stream. Once in early September Mr. Cornish and I came upon a dozen, mostly birds of the year, some of the old ones apparently just over the moult, not far from Port Moar; not an unlikely spot for the arrival of birds which may be found in so many places in Cumber- land. I have no doubt that they had started on their journey South.

Quite recently in October I came on a big party of them — and meadow-pipits — on Clay Head coming straight from the sea, and still sounding so cheerful.

MEADOW-PIPIT

The Meadow-pipit, known locally as the Tweet, is certainly one of the commonest birds in the Island.

When walking on the brows by the sea, or on the heathery sides of the hills, you will constantly see it flitting from bush to bush or hear it sounding its petulant squeaky little "\u2018tweet-tweet''. A bird sombre in its colouring with, nothing striking about it, yet it is interesting to observe, especially in the Spring, when it starts on its sweet little love-song. There is a considerable migratory movement of this bird through the Island there is no doubt; suddenly in the spring the furze-grown heather spaces, whether high or low ground it matters not, will be filled with

these little brown birds which vie with each other in their joyous vitality and their outbreaks of nuptial song. Then time passes on, and again, when autumn is On us, a vast crowd assembles, especially on the open ground near the sea, many, nay most, ready for the great adventure across the sea to other climes. Sad it is too, when out at sea, to watch the weary agonizing struggles of one of these birds making fruitless efforts to reach the safety of the steamer, and then finally disappearing into the ocean wave to be swallowed up as so many have been before on their journeyings south or north as the case may be.

The cheery courting of this pipit much resembles that of many passerine birds, with the spreading of tail and wings and the dart in the air with its pleasant little song.

Courting over, the pair soon get to work on the nesting business, and in some well-concealed place on the ground the nest will be made, mostly of grass, sometimes hair-lined; and it is not unusual to find a full clutch of eggs before April is half through.

I have found a nest right in the bank, like a robin's. Another I found was practically over-hanging a stream on the hillside, and one wonders how many of the youngsters escaped drowning.

No bird accepts the autumn moult apparently more cheerfully, though silently, when it may be seen taking very short flights for a few yards, and then dropping into the heather with hardly a sound.

It is a constant visitor on the shore at all times of the year, but specially of course in winter, when it may be seen running about and feeding on the wrack and refuse: often in close proximity to its more sombre and slightly larger relation, the rock- pipit. Others will be found in parties wandering over the country-side seeking what they can find to feed on, and easily recognized by their little calls, even if not by their flight or shape; the white of the outside tail feathers always helping an observer as identifica- tion. |

ROCK-PIPIT

This Pipit is always to be found either on the rocks or along the shore, and is in no way an inland bird. On Manx coasts, wherever the locality is suitable, it may be found, though, according to the time of the year, some parts may be deserted for others, either for feeding or nesting as the case may be. To the observer there is no more interesting place than Peel headland as a spot to listen to the difference of the call of the rock and the meadow species, the rock's being much deeper and stronger than the mea- dow's, which is shriller. It starts its song, not so very unlike that of the tree-pipit, but less full, early in March, and I have watched the bird perched on the sea-wall of a rock practising hard like a child at its scales on a piano; then presently up it rises, and then practises again until it has got note-perfect and is ready to please its mate with song and spreading of tail and wings and short aerial flights.

As a rule, possibly owing to its usually nesting in more exposed places, it is a later nester than the meadow-pipit, but I have found a nest with its full complement of eggs in the middle of April. This nest, of grass lined with grass and some hairs, was in a hole by a gun embrasure in the fort on Fort Island and beautifully sheltered. But it is in among the rocks that the nests are generally to be found, and wonder- fully well concealed, and seaweed is often used as part of the building materials.

As a parent this bird is most attentive; it becomes very shy and restless if watched when feeding the young.

At Port Soderick in the latter part of July I watched — an old bird feeding a young one, about ten days old, which had got down between two rocks in a big cleft, and it took her a long time before she could face feeding the noisy youngster before my eyes, and it was amusing to watch the round-about course she took to reach it.

In the same neighbourhood I have watched a bird having a splendid bath in a sea-pool, splashing about and puffing out its feathers, looking almost like a young thrush.

How many are residents it is impossible to say, but that many of these birds pass through the Island in spring and autumn is quite certain; and there are days when the rocks on the shore are full of the birds; and presently it is long before one may be seen. Such are the vagaries of migration and home movement of which we really know so little.

YELLOW WAGTAIL

One could wish that this infrequent passer-by in the Island, the most charming and dainty of its species, would stay with us during the summer months, to add to the joys of the country-side. I have been lucky enough to see it in spring and in autumn; in the former season, I have seen and heard it along the

Greeba Curraghs and hoped that it might fancy its surroundings, but in vain. In early autumn I have seen it on more than one occasion near Scarlett. In August I once saw a pair on the Calf flying about and feeding near some horses, and in the same month > I saw a pair mixing with a pair of wheatears near the coast, apparently very happy, springing up in the air and calling and darting about. Perhaps in the course of time it may yet elect to spend the summer here: who can say? Year after year it seems to increase in its spring movements, and perhaps time will tell.

GREY WAGTAIL

There are two things about the Grey Wagtail which have always struck me as curious: one is the strange habit it has at times of flying up against the windows, or even sometimes the wall, of a house: and it will keep on doing it. So far as the window is concerned, perhaps its shadow attracts it. The other is the fact that so many single birds are seen, even well into the spring ; it would appear to be a bird which pre- fers its own company, and goes its own way ; it cer- tainly sounds cheerful enough at all times, except just perhaps during the moult and even then it appears to bear up well. It is a beautiful bird, with its greys and yellows or olives according to the sex: it is smaller and slimmer than the pied, but has a much longer tail. It is mostly along or near the streams that it is to be found, as it flits past with its cheery soft " sissi'"', or perches on the bank or pebbles, and darts out for the unsuspecting insect; and it is in the same parts that it makes its nest, having a very strong preference for the vicinity of mills and mili- wheels. Wherever it places its nest it is generally well concealed, maybe under the over-hanging grass of the river-bank, and it is neatly made and lined with hair, and so compact. For three years running I had a pair nesting in an old quarry in my garden on a ledge of rock, and this gave every chance of watching them, but I fear that the cats from the mill next door frightened them away at last. But prior to the nesting one must not forget the inevitable courting when the solitary bird has at last found its mate, and the male gives its display chiefly with fanning and spreading its tail. I have watched a pair on the water-slide in the Nunnery grounds, a beautiful pair with the male singing softly to his mate between feeds on insects — greedy fellow — sounding like "Chit-chitcheee'' repeated: then they perched on the branches of a tree near by, and finally came the chase away upstream as they disappeared in a yellow flash. Later, when the youngsters are far enough advanced to feed themselves, I have never seen that same family grouping as in the pied; they appear to go on their own, and not care to keep in parties. Like so many other land birds, the grey wagtail is frequently to be seen on or near the shore, and it is a pleasing sight to watch it flicking its tail on a rock over-grown with seaweed or running over the pebbles, whence it darts upwards for a chance insect, or passing on with undulating flight to some other spot. By no means uncommon in the Island, it may be found on every or almost every stream, although there are times when it may not be seen for weeks, until once more one may suddenly hear its pleasing call and note its careless movements: always a joy, for it is one of the most charming residents.

PIED WAGTAIL

In autumn great care must be taken not to confuse the light-coloured pieds with the whites; in the Spring there should be no difficulty, for then the pied is a very black and white bird, and by no means a sad one, as its name might imply; for it is most cheerful and active in its courtings and its feedings, and little disposed to quarrel with the world. It brings thoughts of Spring when one watches the chasing of the female by the male across the field and over the roofs of buildings, as he shows all his white markings for her delectation and cheerily utters his call, or, when not so occupied, the birds dance about over the wrack and seaweed along the shore, seeking contentedly for tit-bits. Nor does it confine itself to the field and shore, for it has no fear of man, and is a common sight on the Douglas Promenade and about Castletown and elsewhere. A frequent meeting place is a small field in Michael Village where I have seen numbers sporting about; and yet there are days and weeks when one wonders where they have all gone: such are the mysterious comings and goings of so many of our birds.

Then comes the nesting season, for the pairs get busy in April and very varied are the sites. There was one place, alas, I fear, cut away by road altera- tions near Glen Camm where a pair built their nest year after year on a ledge of rock under the bank by the roadside; and how tight the female would sit on her five, sometimes six, eggs.

At Port Erin there was a nest made largely of wood chips outside on the rock by the shore road. One day, while I was watching it, I saw the female, which was feeding close by, catch a bee and swallow it after much dancing round it.

Near the shore on the East Coast I found a nest among some big stones practically on the ground in the midst of a vast bramble bush. This was in early July and the youngsters must have been extra hungry, as the parents were never ceasing in their feeding operations. Much later in July I have watched the feeding of some very noisy clamorous young in a hole in a ruined mill near Grenaby ; and many more interesting sites might be mentioned. These birds, as I have already shown, are splendid parents, and even after the young ones have left the nest and are able to get about, with the yellowish tinge about the face, for weeks the whole family may be seen feeding and playing together in some open spot, frequently joined by many other families equally busy.

Then finally follows the migratory movements in the autumn. Whither they go it is hard to say: can it be said that the birds we saw last week at this time of the year are the same this week? It is pro- bable that they go no distance, but the story of the toll of the lighthouses is sufficient to show that there is movement, though one is thankful to note that the toll of these charming birds is not too heavy.

WHITE WAGTAIL

This graceful grey and white bird is often numerous here at migration times, arriving on its way elsewhere the second half of March and passing on its return journey south the latter part of August and early September.

My experience is that far more pass this way on the return journey, having seen quite large flocks at or near Scarlett in September. It is a very beautiful bird, the colours being so much more cheerful to the eye than the sadder-looking pied: I have seen a female with an entirely white head in fine contrast to the grey of the back. Another very beautiful male bird I saw well into May, hanging about Fort Island, and I wondered if it was mated, even perhaps with a pied female, for it is not uncommon for the two species to inter-breed ; indeed there was a nest found and robbed shortly after in this neighbourhood.

Once late in August at Scarlett I saw a little migrat- ory party consisting of a pair of wheatears, a pair of yellow wagtails, and a white and a pied wagtail with their young family. This pair was particularly noticeable, as the white was very grey and white and the pied was very dark.

It is a cheerful, chirpy, busy bird: it is always a joy to see and hear it. And this reminds me of a beautiful April evening out on the Ayres when I was suddenly surrounded by a big migratory party of these and yellow wagtails which made for the nearest pond to drink. Can't you imagine how they, on this long journey from the south and tired and parched, were just longing for the sight of water below them; and the presence of my wife and my- self meant nothing on so joyful an occasion. I like the ways of the tired in-coming migrant, so tame and so confiding.

TREE-CREEPER

About this little bird it may well be said that it goes about its business on the tree trunks in a mouse- like contented way with little or no concern as to man unless its nest is being interfered with. It is not, however, always to be seen on big trees, although that is the usual place. In my garden I have seen a bird busily working a manure-heap before it returned toa tree. I have seen a bird at mating time working on some very low trees, going rapidly from the top of one to the bottom of another without stopping a second, probably under an intense state of sexual excitement. This bird is probably far more common than is thought, as the ordinary passer-by would not notice it, as it silently works its way up a tree, sometimes down it, sometimes circling round the trunk, and then, maybe, along the under-side of a branch ; and then away to another tree, often quite silent, sometimes making its squeaky little note, not unlike that of a gold-crest, but always busily engaged in searching for food, often balancing itself by its strong little square tail while it pulls out some insect with its powerful bill. A brown-backed bird it is, with a very white belly. The bird has a pretty little song which it appears to give forth mostly in the early spring for the benefit of its mate; it is not loud, but quite distinctive, like the bird itself.

It likes to make its nest behind some crevice, whether behind a piece of bark in the branch of some tree or in a hole in some out-house or building which may be near its favourite trees.

One nest I examined was down the side of an old tool-shed between two pieces of timber — and such a small crack to get out of — about two feet from the ground. The bird was sitting and let me touch her before she moved; she had three young ones just hatched and two eggs probably on the point of hatch- ing. She was back like a flash the moment I moved away. Another one was in behind a loose bit of bark some twenty feet up an ivy-covered tree with four young ones in it. I watched the parents for a long time feeding the young ones, backwards and for- wards at a wonderful rate; and when I got up a ladder to have a look, the agitation was tremendous. It was a cosy little nest of moss and feathers, and the young were very dark-coloured. I have watched the male bird doing all the feeding while the female stayed with the young ones.

The autumn comes and they appear to live a roam- ing life wandering from place to place in close company with tits, always busy, with an occasional little call. It is amusing to see a bird drag out an extra big grub or insect from a crevice in a tree and nearly choke in trying to swallow it in a hurry; one could almost expect to hear it cough.

They sometimes move in great numbers. Truly it is a great pleasure to stand and watch these busy little creatures as they carry on at all sorts of im- possible angles, as often as not upside-down and quite careless of being observed.

GREAT TITMOUSE

The Great Tit, which is so specially handsome in its full plumage of green and yellow picked out with black, is a very quarrelsome domineering bird, and its voice may often be heard loudly abusing other birds which are in its way, but I do not think that it is so violently aggressive as some people say. In the Island it is common, and, when tempted by cocoa- nut and suchlike dainties, which are to its liking, is not at all averse to coming near dwellings, though, as a whole, it is a bird of the woods, where it may be seen mixed up with other tits roaming about for food through the long months when the breeding season is over. The courting of this bird begins early; in January his metallic sounding song is to be heard, and he is soon to be seen with a mate with whom he exchanges queer-sounding calls — no bird that I know seems to have so many strange notes, especially in his courting excitements. At the same time, he goes through various gestures with wings and body for the sake of the mate.

And then with the spring well in, comes the all- important questing of a nesting site, frequently in a stone wall, and it is surprising into what small cavities this fair-sized bird will squeeze. One nest I had under observation on the main road near Laxey was roomy enough apparently, but the aperture was only two inches by nine-tenths of an inch; and in this were kept and fed some eight youngsters, and the squeezing in and out of these poor parents must have been most painful work after a time.

This bird will often take to. a nest-box which gives a pleasant opportunity of watching their ways of passing backwards and forwards and of feeding the young, and also of seeing the young as they are gradu- ally able to come out and look after themselves — naturally the most dangerous age, as there are so many unforeseen perils about.

I had also under observation for two or three years a nesting site in the top of an iron pump; the bird flew in by the handle and out by the spout. There was another nest in a letter-box.

Once the young birds are properly started in life to the satisfaction of the parents, the bird again be- takes itself to its roaming ways; allowing for a short space of time in August to get over the necessary moult, it then emerges into its winter plumage, which is, however, very much the same as that of summer. The great tit is a hardy bird too, for even in the rough- est or severest weather it is to be found roaming about, more perhaps than most birds, so that one may always hope to be cheered and interested by a sight of this handsome bird on the most cheerless day.

BLUE TITMOUSE

This pretty, quarrelsome little fellow has become immensely common in the last few years, and is to be found in numbers in and around the outskirts of Douglas, as well as most other localities. The bird is full of pluck. I have seen it snatch a piece of bread from a robin and get away with it. It loves a cocoanut to nibble at and will get at it at all angles. This tit may be heard singing early in January. I have heard it singing at times strangely like a wood- warbler for a few notes. The little chap will presently be singing itself into a state of furious excitement before its mate and carrying on with wonderful aerial performances of fluttering wings whilst the hen bird looks on apparently quite unconcerned. For the nesting place, the blue tits select all kinds of places, the most favourite positions being stone walls, where they manage to get into the wee-est of crevices; and holes in trees or stumps. It is quite unusual to be able to see the contents of a nest, unless they have selected a nesting-box. At my house at Garwick, there was a small crevice between the lead guttering and the wooden top of a window: a pair of these birds pecked away more space, and formed room enough behind the wood to build a nest and hatch out a full clutch of eggs. And the struggles that the little fellows have to get what they want for lining the nest! I saw a bird working hard at a piece of sheep's wool which was entangled round a piece of barbed wire in a hedge; it got most of it at last. On another occasion it was a piece of cotton-wool, and when the bird got it, it fairly staggered along under the weight of it.

With all its pugnacious ways, the blue tit is a most lovable little creature.

COAL-TITMOUSE

The Coal-tit is a fairly common bird in the Island, far more common than may be thought, because it is not an advertiser, except perhaps by its excited noisy song in the courting days: it is essentially a bird of the trees and bracken. There it may be seen performing all sorts of acrobatic feats, at times upside down along a branch, at times tilted at all angles, at times walking up and down the trunk in a tree-creeper-like manner, even hanging on to leaves when looking for insects and fluttering awhile to keep its place. Occasionally it may be seen feeding on the ground, and it is not averse to feeding on cocoa~ nut, and suchlike, by habitations; this not so much as in the case of blue or great tits. Often, especially in the winter and autumn, it may be seen in parties in company with great and blue tits and gold-crests, and always busy ; rarely is it in the majority, though once in Groudle Glen I came across well-nigh fifty together with but few of other species. I have spent some time observing this quiet little tit, and beyond its powerful call-song sounding like "if-he if-he" over and over again —and very crude it is — I have heard it on occasions make use of a note almost canary-like, like "tweet", and in the early days of courting I have heard the female answer the crude song of the male with a quiet little note like "pe-oo"'.

The male becomes very active in its courting display, showing off before its mate with outspread wings and hovering in mid-air and then with quick darts towards her.

The nesting sites are not as a rule easy to find, and even when found, difficult to look into: holes with small cavities in trees or among stones in walls are frequent places.

I have found a nest in a half-fallen rotten tree about seven feet from the ground, and full of feathers ; and near this tree in the same glen, another nest in a wall above a stream, with only a very small entrance to it, with the mother inside, tending five or six youngsters ; also one in a bird-box, with thirteen eggs laid on white feathers, a charming spectacle. The birds are devoted parents; and, even when weary of carrying food, they will still appear cheery ; and, later, the good old cock bird will defiantly shout his evening melody before settling down for the short night's rest.

MARSH-TITMOUSE

On November 15th, 1931, during the afternoon of a stormy day, I was wandering along the drive at Government House when I noticed several tits on the bough of a tree. On putting my glasses on to them, I saw a Marsh-tit close to a great tit, and watched it for some time, as I had not seen one in the Island before. But there was no doubt about it, There had been a recent heavy storm which probably accounted for its unusual visitation. I looked for it next day, but it was gone.

LONG-TAILED TITMOUSE

From my own experience, I consider this bird a most uncommon visitor to the Island. Twice, with four years between, I have seen birds in Kirby Park: each time there were four birds, in the same tree. Once, in September, I saw twelve, or more, in the Nunnery grounds, and apparently they passed on south almost at once. Once, in November, I came on quite a big number in Laxey Glen ; two days later they were gone. Indeed I have not seen nor heard of any about since Captain A. M. Boyd saw a few near Patrick in November, 1928. More's the pity, for they are charming little, active creatures to watch — sporting, squeaking and feeding in the trees.