These are all the Pigeons that have any claims upon our consideration. An individual of the American Passenger or Migratory Pigeon, Ectopistes migratoria, is recorded by Dr. Fleming, as having been shot in December 1825, in the neighbourhood of a pigeon-house at Westhall, in the parish of Monymeal, Fifeshire. The feathers, according to the describer of this specimen," were quite fresh and entire, like those of a wild bird." Why not? If it had escaped from confinement, and resided in a dove-cot for half a year, it might have its plumage as neat as that of any other bird. Such a circumstance affords no criterion. A beautiful specimen of the Dominican Grosbeak, Loxia dominicana, in perfect plumage, was sent to me fresh in the winter of 1831. It had been shot somewhere near Dalkeith, and I made a drawing of it for my collection of British Birds; but soon after it was reported to have escaped from Lady Dalhousie's aviary. In June 1835, a lovely little bird, fresh and with perfect plumage, was brought to me from Braid Hermitage near Edinburgh, where it had been shot when in company with another of the same species, supposed to be the female. It turned out to be the Loxia Astrild. Its skin forms part of my collection; but I should no more think of assigning this species a place among British birds, than of admitting the Migratory Pigeon. Yet its claims are certainly equal, for its feathers" were quite fresh and entire, like those of a wild bird," and remain so to the present day.

PRACTICAL ORNITHOLOGY.

SECOND LESSON.

WINTER EXCURSION DURING A SNOW-STORM FROM EDINBURGH TO PEEBLES. BIRDS OBSERVED. BAT-HUNTING IN NIDPATH CASTLE. THE VALLEY OF THE TWEED. BIRDS FOUND AROUND EDINBURGH IN WINTER. SNOW-STORM IN THE OUTER HEBRIDES VIEWED FROM THE SUMMIT OF CLISHEIM. BIRDS FOUND THERE IN WINTER.

THE naturalist must not confine his observation to objects that can be contemplated under circumstances conducive to personal comfort, nor shut himself up in his study when the wintry winds sweep fiercely over the blasted heath. He who is familiar with the actions and haunts of birds during the fine season only, knows but half of their history. How do they contrive to procure the means of subsistence when the country is covered with snow, especially when the storm has lasted for weeks; and what influence is exerted upon their character by the frosts and tempests of winter? To solve these problems, let us sallyforth into the fields, now that the snow has been two days on the ground, and the cold blasts of the north-east wind howl among the leafless twigs. But as it is only half-past two in the morning, and the clouds are fast pouring down their feathery flakes, obscuring at intervals the full moon, I can scarcely recommend to the comfort-loving citizen to leave his warm bed. Indeed I feel assured that I shall contribute to his amusement more effectually by relating a nocturnal expedition in the midst of a snow-storm than by dragging him out to shiver in the cold moonlight on a bleak moor. As to the real enthusiasts in ornithology, from Audubon down to myself, they can never rest contented with the ordinary occurrences of life, but if the tide of events flows too smoothly, must ruffle it now and then by throwing some blocks into its channel.

In the morning of Monday the 26th December 1836, the

ground being covered with snow to a moderate height, the wind blowing strongly, and the moon about full, I left Edinburgh, accompanied by a young friend. It was only three o'clock when we commenced our expedition, but the moon and the snow together rendered it quite light, and we tripped along briskly in the direction of Peebles. Near Greenlaw Barracks, finding ourselves perspiring copiously, we sat down in a sheltered place to cool and rest ourselves. Not a living creature, man or beast, bat or owl, had we seen by the way. All animated nature seemed buried in sleep or congealed by the frost, the effects of which we very soon experienced, and therefore proceeded on our journey, which afforded us no other objects of contemplation than the Pentland Hills wrapped in their cold white mantles, walls and hedges nearly overtopped with snow, of which deep wreaths stretched at intervals across the road, and magnificent clouds driven over the sky, and dissolving into thick showers, which at times completely obscured the surrounding objects. At Pennicuik we met a man with a lantern, who informed us that it was half-past five; but no other other living thing occurred until near seven, when, perspiring profusely, but at the same time having our hands and faces half frozen, we arrived, after wading through a long wreath, and in the midst of a bitter blast accompanying a heavy shower, at a large house, which we found to be the Wellington Inn, upwards of twelve miles from Edinburgh. Fortunately some of the people were up, and there was a large fire in the kitchen, at which we seated ourselves. In half an hour we were furnished with a comfortable breakfast, which we prefaced and concluded with a glass of whisky, a practice which, under similar circumstances, notwithstanding the prohibition of temperance societies, I would strongly recommend as a sovereign remedy against fatigue.

It was now daylight, and the boys of the house were preparing their gins. On resuming our march we found ourselves on an open moor, but with no other birds in view than a few Rooks. Here the road was blocked up for about two hundred yards by a deep wreath, which afforded us some amusement. A small covey of Partridges flew past us at a distance, and soon

after we observed, cowering among the snow-tufts, some large birds, which I presently discovered to be Brown Ptarmigans, alias Red Grouse. Five of them were crouched near the road, but on our going up, flew off and joined another covey among some peats. These in their turn removed to a distance, and finally sped away in company with others, forming altogether a pack amounting to about fifty. As the wind blew strongly the drift was not so deep as entirely to cover the tips of the heather tufts, so that these birds could still procure a sufficiency of food; but they seemed entirely exposed to their enemies, being unable to conceal or even shelter themselves among the snow, on which their dark colour rendered them very conspicuous. Finding the locks of our guns crusted with snow and their muzzles filled, we could only wish the Grouse a merry Christmas. The only other birds we met with on the high moor were a few Rooks, which hovered over the fields, although they could scarcely obtain anything from them. By a small stream running towards the Tweed we observed a Dipper, as cheerful and lively as ever, and in a corn-yard a congregation of Chaffinches, Greenfinches, and Yellow Buntings, with a few Blackbirds, all busily occupied.

In the narrow valley of Eddlestone Water the snow lay deeper than on the high ground, it being sheltered from the north-east wind, which, sweeping the hills almost bare on the windward side, deposited the drift on the lower grounds, so that occasionally we had some difficulty in making our way through the wreaths. There is a good deal of wood in this valley, but in the plantations very few birds were to be seen. On the open grounds were observed a few Rooks; by the stream a solitary Dipper here and there; and in the little rills or springs which sometimes occurred unfrozen, as well as in the ditches by the road, we started a few Snipes. These birds rose without emitting any sound, flew high, and wheeling for some time, generally alighted again in or near the same place. Above Eddlestone we observed two Goldfinches discussing the tops some thistles that protruded through the snow; but the only other small birds that occurred were those common in all parts of the country, namely, the Chaffinch, Green Linnet, House

of

Sparrow, Yellow Bunting, Blue Tit, Black Tit, Hedge Chanter, White Wagtail, Wren, and Gold-crest. A single Stonechat also was seen near a cottage. A few Magpies and Jackdaws, with two Missel Thrushes, were observed; but of Fieldfares and Redwings, so abundant about Edinburgh, not a single individual was anywhere seen. About houses, however, we met with some Blackbirds and Thrushes, and towards Peebles saw Rooks and Jackdaws in abundance, some flying slowly over the fields, others walking along the slopes, a few wading by the edges of the stream, and numbers pulling at the cornstacks, while in the shelter of a fence was a very large flock of Wood Pigeons, probably amounting to two hundred. But, upon the whole, the number of species that occurred was much less than I had anticipated. At length, after a tedious march along the valley, we arrived in the ancient town of Peebles, situated on the Tweed, at the distance of twenty-one miles from Edinburgh, and were welcomed by my excellent and esteemed friend, the Reverend Mr. Adam.

Next morning, the weather being similar, but the snow deeper, we resolved to attempt a journey to Nidpath Castle, about a mile distant, which we accomplished without much difficulty, although in several places we had to make our way through snow-drifts of great depth. A Kestrel, some Rooks and Daws, a Wren, two Missel Thrushes, a Fieldfare, a few Blackbirds, and a number of Sparrows, Chaffinches, Yellow Buntings, and Hedge Chanters, were all the species that occurred. The gamekeeper had a small collection of stuffed birds, among which however was nothing remarkable, excepting a Peregrine Falcon shot in the neighbourhood. Our object in visiting this building, which is partially in ruins, although the roof is kept in repair, was to obtain, if possible, a few Bats. We therefore ascended by a winding stair to the deserted apartments, which we searched for a long time, but without success, until at length Mr. Adam discovered one in a very small crevice in the wall. It was a Pipistrelle, of which the gamekeeper had procured a specimen some days before. Three stuffed individuals of the same species also obtained in the castle, and a Long-eared Bat, Plecotus auritus, formed part of his collection. It is certainly