heavy mornings, when the mist and smoke hang in the trees, they come just the same, and at times severely try the quickness of the breechloader. If one should happen to be winged, and falls screaming down the tree, the Jays fly in so quickly that the gun-barrels soon become hot in the hand. From about nine to ten in the morning is the time when the Jays appear to be feeding most freely, and it is then when myself and one of the under-keepers wait for them, as, having other duties to attend to, we are unable to spare more than an hour or so each day. However, in that short time we generally manage to kill a dozen or more. During one season a few years ago we bagged two hundred and fifty Jays, up till the end of October, feeding on these acorns.... The only injury they do now, is the manner in which their screaming annoys the Pheasants." This last is a most "gamekeeperish" remark, and it would be curious to find out what, if any, grounds Mr. Stonebridge has for making such a remarkable statement.
The tameness of the birds probably points to their connection with one of those immigrations of Jays to the east coast of England which occasionally take place, and affect Oxfordshire in some degree.
1898.
January 5th.—Many primroses and one flower of Pyrus japonica in bloom.
6th.—Examined at Mr. Bartlett's a Manx Shearwater captured at North End, Warwickshire, in September last. Although this bird occurred three or four miles outside our boundaries, it may not be out of place to mention it here.
10th.—While waiting for Wood Pigeons, I watched a Barred Woodpecker for nearly half an hour. It once uttered its loud qui-qui-qui-qui-qui, more commonly heard in spring, and also, but less so, in autumn. It is also heard in summer. The notes of this cry are so run together as to sound like quick rather than qui. This bird also once uttered the alarm cry gik or gek.
13th.—Snowdrops well out.
14th.—The "dark still dry warm weather" of Gilbert White.
