little black pool, I discovered the birds we were in search of. They seemed not the least alarmed at our presence, being, I suppose, accustomed to the keeper's boat. They swam rapidly along within ten yards of us, the old bird and three young. There had been five, but something had destroyed them; the keeper blamed the big eels, of which there are quantities in the pond. I left the man here, lauding close by the old cottage, and walked across the heath down towards the harbour. About thirty Curlews got up from the top of the hill as I came up over the brow. The keeper had previously informed me of their breeding in the vicinity of the pond. As I got within a quarter of a mile of the beach my attention was attracted by some small white object running rapidly along the turf, which had been cut for peat. I soon made it out to be a Ringed Plover, and after a little search discovered its four eggs, in a very poor apology for a nest, on the bare turf at least three hundred yards from the water. I came out upon the shore close to a long tongue of gravel, the end of which was absolutely covered with birds, of two kinds only—Herring Gulls and Cormorants. As I approached the Gulls flew off, while the Shags walked slowly into the water, swam across a small creek and waddled out on the mud, with a look of lazy unconcern, which was justified by the extreme heat of the day. A pair of Oystercatchers, with their shrill cries and prettily contrasted plumage, accompanied me on my walk back to the boat, while a handsomelooking Shieldrake, whose nest was probably in one of the numerous rabbitholes near the beach, flew uneasily round my head, and was no doubt relleved to see the brown sail of our una-boat hoisted to a favourable breeze.—T.M. Pike (Westport, Warehara).
Ring Ouzel Nesting near Malvern.—This bird has nested on the North Hills this summer, and has succeeded in rearing its young. On two other occasions the Ring Ouzel has nested on the hills, but in both cases a mishap prevented the hatching.—Isaac Harding (10, Lansdown Crescent, Malvern).
Scarcity of the Corn Crake in the West of England.— A few years since I wrote to 'The Field' on the almost complete disappearance of the Corn Crake in the West of England, where it used to be one of the commonest of our spring migrants. I was not led to do so from the phenomena of an exceptional season, but from the observation that year by year the Corn Crake was surely deserting us, and many meadows and clover fields which used to be vocal with its familiar "crake, crake" seemed destined to re-echo those sounds of spring no more. At Lundy Island Corn Crakes used to assemble in large numbers in September on their autumnal migration, and afforded good sport for a few days. The Rev. H.G. Heaven tells me that Corn Crakes are now rarely seen on that island. The last place where I came across these birds in any number in the West of England was Dartmoor, and here in August I found them on
