It haunted a marshy piece of ground in quest of wild-ducks and snipes; but, when it was shot, had just knocked down a rook, which it was tearing in pieces.
Common Rat.
I cannot make it answer to any of our English hawks; neither could I find any like it at the curious exhibition of stuffed birds in Spring Gardens. I found it nailed up at the end of a barn, which is the countryman's museum.[e7]
The parish I live in is a very abrupt, uneven country, full of hills and woods, and therefore full of birds.
notes to letter x.
e1 ↑ The reader will observe, as he proceeds, that White leans more and more to the idea that swallows live in a state of torpidity through the winter, and do not migrate. He never, however, discovered any proof of this theory. It has been ascertained beyond a doubt that swallows do migrate, and that if any solitary individuals do lie torpid, it is because they were too weak at the end of the summer to undertake their long journey to warmer countries. It is questionable, however, whether any such specimens live through the winter, although it is of course possible that they might exist in some sheltered crevice where insects might also hide and cluster. The late appearance of solitary swallows simply shows that some have lingered beyond others, and the early appearance of some in spring is in accordance with the usual practice of migratory birds, pioneers arriving before the main body.
If any swallows appeared during some of the warm days we sometimes have in December and January, when insects are abroad, it would point to the hybernation of some specimens, but I am not aware of any such occurrences. Mr. Jesse, in his edition of White, gives an instance of a pair of swallows (presumably house-martins) sealing up their young in their nest, and the young ones lived until the next spring, when they pecked their way out. This interesting instance, however, did not come under his own observation. The
