The Zoologist/4th series, vol 6 (1902)/Issue 737/Notes on the Birds of Anglesea

by Thomas Alfred Coward and Charles Oldham

 

THE ZOOLOGIST

 

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No. 737.—November, 1902.

 

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NOTES ON THE BIRDS OF ANGLESEA.

By T.A. Coward and Charles Oldham.

 

The Menai Straits, separating Anglesea from the mainland, are so narrow that they alone would not account for any difference in the avifauna of the island from that of the adjacent portions of North Wales; but the character of the country is entirely different from that of Carnarvonshire. The rugged mountains of the Snowdon Range, with their narrow glacial valleys and ice-scooped and volcanic tarns, are replaced by lowlying undulating country, under cultivation of a primitive sort, interspersed with gorse-covered commons, extensive marshes, and shallow reed-fringed pools. With the exception of the isolated Holyhead Mountain, the high land is all to the northeast, from whence the country gently slopes towards the western shores, where the few insignificant sluggish rivers debouch in sandy estuaries.

Anglesea is singularly treeless, and the clumps of trees—mostly ash—which here and there have been planted round the more pretentious houses, bear evidence, in their gnarled trunks and matted branches, of the fierce salt-laden winds that sweep across the island. The sheltered shores of the Menai Straits, however, are well wooded; from Beaumaris to Llanidan are extensive plantations, giving shelter to Warblers and other woodland birds, rare or unknown in the greater part of the county.

In this paper we have dealt only with the birds observed during short visits in the spring of 1902 to the district lying south-east of a line drawn from Redwharf Bay, through Pentraeth, along the Cefni valley to Malldraeth Bay. Later we hope to treat of other portions of the island, comparing the different faunal areas.

From the shrubberies and plantations in the park at Baron Hill, behind Beaumaris, a thin belt of deciduous trees—beech, ash, oak, and sycamore—fringing the road, extends to the confines of Plas Newydd. Here a well-timbered park, half a mile to a mile in width, lies along the shores to Llanedwen, where for two miles the country is sparsely wooded as far as Llanidan. No one visiting these woods in April and May can fail to be struck, as we were, with the abundance of the Chiffchaff, which far outnumbers any other Warbler. Mingled with the rhythmic notes of this bird were the "long, tender, delicious warble" of the Willow-Wren, and the shivering trill of the Wood-Wren.

Of the Leaf-warblers, the Chiffchaff was undoubtedly the most numerous; though all were abundant, not only in the continuous woodlands between Baron Hill and Plas Newydd, but in isolated Pheasant-coverts further inland. In the woods, too, the Blackcap and Goldcrest were very common, but we only met with the Garden Warbler in one spot—near Llanfair P.G., where we watched a male singing in a thicket on several occasions. The Spotted Flycatcher was abundant, but we failed to find the Pied Flycatcher, which is so common in the Conway Valley at Bettws-y-Coed. The Redstart, in a district apparently admirably suited to its habits, was very rare; we only saw a single bird—between Garth Ferry and Beaumaris. We did not see the hen, but, as we often heard the male singing at this spot, we concluded that she was sitting.

Throughout the whole district the Wood-Pigeon was abundant, being by no means confined to the woodlands. At Plas Newydd, in mid-May, small parties of birds flew at our approach from the beeches with clattering wings. They had been gorging themselves in the tree-tops, and the ground beneath the trees was strewn with broken twigs and torn leaves and catkins that the birds had dropped in their orgie.

Of the Tits, the Blue was undoubtedly the most abundant, though the Great Tit was by no means rare. We saw Coal-Tits feeding young in three different places, but the bird was not common, and we did not meet with either the Marsh or the Long-tailed Tit. The Creeper has the reputation of being a shy singer, and when the trees are in leaf is easily overlooked; but, from the number of times on which we heard the song in many different localities, the bird must be very plentiful. The Tree-Pipit, like the Redstart, was unaccountably rare; we saw a pair in a wood at Holland Arms, heard three or four in song between Llanfair and Menai, and one at Llangoed, but none elsewhere. The Chaffinch and Greenfinch swarmed in the woods and in the cultivated district beyond; the Bullfinch was fairly numerous, but we only met with the Goldfinch in one locality—near Menai Bridge, where a pair frequented an orchard. In this part of Anglesea the Jay and Magpie, if they occur at all, must be very rare, for we did not meet with either species.

The neighbourhood of the old Priory at Penmon, in the extreme east of the island, proved to be an exceedingly interesting district. Just behind the ruins of the Priory is a little dell, where many ancient ashes, alders, thorns, and elders, together with the Spanish chestnuts and walnuts in the Priory grounds, provide shelter for numerous birds. In the tree-tops was a small colony of Rooks, while the hollow limbs of the older trees were tenanted by Jackdaws and Tawny Owls. In mid-May the latter bird was much in evidence, enlivening the night with its musical call; but during a second visit—in the first week of June—it was silent. We did not come across the Tawny Owl elsewhere, nor did we personally observe the Barn-Owl, but a quarryman at Penmon had a stuffed example which had been captured in a disused boiler a few months before. The Green Woodpecker, which we only met with sparingly in the larger woods, was astoundingly abundant in the neighbourhood of Penmon. The rotten timber of the old trees was riddled with nesting-holes, and even the smaller branches were pitted with the bird's borings. The Woodpeckers were not restricted to this isolated clump of trees where they nested; we used frequently to come across them on the bare bracken-covered limestone uplands which constitute the Deer Park, where they were no doubt feeding on the ants which swarmed beneath the stones. It was strange to continually hear the laughing cry of the bird in a district so dissimilar from the well-timbered park-land which we usually associate with the species in Cheshire.

The hollow trees in the dell provide accommodation for a large colony of Tree-Sparrows—a bird whose distribution in Wales is but little known. Many pairs, too, were nesting in the walnuts and ashes in the Priory grounds, and we noted a single isolated pair in a hedgerow sycamore near the schoolhouse at Penmon. On June 3rd and 4th we saw several birds carrying nesting materials into holes, presumably preparing for a second brood. House-Sparrows were often nesting in the same trees as the smaller species, and in two cases at least their untidy structures were visible in the loose foundations of nests in the rookery. The pushful Starling was, as might be expected, abundant. At Penmon birds were feeding young in the old Woodpeckers' holes; while in old walls, cottage roofs, the limestone cliffs, and trees in the woods, every likely hole was occupied by Starlings. During the first week in June numbers of birds were still busily feeding young in the nest, but many others had packed, and flocks of two to three hundred individuals were roosting in the old thorns in Penmon Park.

Several pairs of Spotted Flycatchers and Creepers were nesting in the dell, and Wood-Wrens, Whitethroats, Blackcaps, Willow-Wrens, and Bullfinches in the undergrowth. The Wren, of course, was common here; we found a nest in an unusual situation—suspended at the extremity of a drooping branch of elder, concealed by the surrounding leaves.

At midday on June 1st, when one of us was sitting beneath the trees, a male Siskin alighted in the lower branches of an ash, not fifteen paces away. Its forked tail, greenish plumage, greystriped flanks, and black crown, forehead, and throat showed clearly in the strong sunlight. Subsequently we both searched for the bird on many occasions, but without success.

The stream that trickles through the dell is dammed, forming a little tree-sheltered pool, where a pair of Moorhens had a brood, and where at dusk the Pipistrelles hawked for flies, replacing the Swallows and House-Martins that fed by day, as, above the trees, the Noctules replaced the Swifts. At this pool, one day, we watched a Robin take insects repeatedly from the surface of the water. In its flight from bough to bough it checked its course, hovering for an instant as it seized its food; not taking its prey "in its stride," as a Swallow or Flycatcher does.

On June 3rd a pair of Creepers were feeding fully-fledged young (they left the nest on the following day) in a nest between the thick stem of an old ivy and the park-wall at Penmon. In nineteen minutes the parent birds made thirty visits, bringing green caterpillars and some black insects we could not identify from the neighbouring thorns.

Save for the trees near the Priory, and a few old gnarled thorns, the low limestone hills of the Penmon promontory are treeless; several hundred acres are enclosed within high stone walls. The turf is cropped by innumerable Rabbits, whose burrows honeycomb the ground, providing nesting-holes for many Wheatears, and a few pairs of Stock-Doves and Sheld-Ducks. In the bracken, which covers many acres, a fair number of Nightjars crouched during the day; and Lapwings, though common in the open country everywhere, were nowhere so abundant as here. There were several pairs of Meadow-Pipits near the Point, and along the cliffs from Penmon to Redwharf Bay; but the bird is not generally distributed. The Sky-Lark, on the other hand, was common everywhere.

At the lowest part of the park is a shallow pool, which, sheltered by a high wall from the road that skirts the beach, affords a secluded retreat for Curlews and Ringed Plovers at high water. Indeed, one or two pairs of the latter bird had forsaken the adjacent shingle, and were nesting on the rush-grown turf by the pool-side. A male Sheld-Duck constantly frequented the water, where at times he was joined by his mate, who was brooding in a Rabbit-burrow on the limestone bank two hundred feet above, and a quarter of a mile inland. On the evening of June 5th, as we were walking across the high land in the Deer Park, we saw a small bird swimming on this pool. When we approached nearer we found that it was a Red-necked Phalarope, and though, in the pouring rain and fading light, it was impossible to distinguish its colours, its buoyant pose upon the water left no doubt in our minds of its identity. Early next morning we were at the pool, and found the little wanderer swimming within a few yards of the bank. Although we approached it quite openly, the bird made no effort to elude us; in fact, it hardly seemed to notice our presence. So lightly did the bird rest upon the water that it looked as if a breath of wind would pick it up and blow it away; yet, though it generally swam head to wind against a stiff breeze, it appeared to experience no inconvenience when swimming in the opposite direction. The bird was busily feeding—dipping its beak constantly in the water, and now and then uttering a soft "peep peep." After we had watched the Phalarope for some time, as it swam with a zigzag course but a few feet from us, we threw a stone into the water near it, for we wished to see it on the wing. The bird rose, hovered for a second a few inches above the water, and then flew off over the grass, somewhat resembling a Ringed Plover in its flight, and distinctly showing its white wing-bars. It was back again in a minute, and recommenced feeding. During the day we visited the pool several times, but we never succeeded in inducing it to fly again; when disturbed by a splash it simply rose and hovered for a moment, dropping again a yard or so further on. At nightfall the bird was still there, but it had gone by the following morning.

It was an adult female; the rich fox-red of the neck contrasting sharply with the pure white chin and under parts and the dark grey of the upper breast. The clearly defined white spot immediately above the eye was distinctly noticeable at a distance of some yards.^[1]

Between Penmon Point and Redwharf Bay the limestone cliffs rise to a considerable height, affording nesting ledges, in places, for many rock-haunting birds. At one spot there was a small colony of Guillemots and Razorbills, the species being in almost equal numbers; in another place a few Razorbills were breeding in horizontal fissures, but we failed to detect any Guillemots there. The Herring-Gull was the dominant Gull in this district; mature and immature birds were common in the Straits, where the only other member of the family that we observed was the Black-headed Gull. Some of the colonies of Herring-Gulls on the cliffs numbered hundreds of pairs, and in one place there was a fair admixture of Lesser Black-backed Gulls. We saw many Cormorants fishing in the Straits and on the inland lakes, and along the coast birds were constantly passing between their feeding-grounds and a precipitous cliff where a large number were nesting.

Of birds of prey, we noticed several nesting Kestrels, and one or two Merlins; and at one spot a pair of Peregrines had their eyrie. Whenever we passed the place the falcon, and sometimes the tiercel, flew out, wheeling in circles above the sea, barking fiercely "hek hek hek." Again and again the falcon would stoop, as if in sport, at the Herring-Gulls which were passing along the cliff to their nesting-places, sweeping up again just before she reached them. The Gulls always swerved a little from their course when the falcon was all but on them, uttering a short single frightened scream. A Kestrel, on the other hand, which was nesting in a disused Carrion-Crow's nest, several times hovered over and stooped at the Peregrine, which merely swerved aside and made no attempt to retaliate. The Kestrel was not uncommon inland, but we only met with the Sparrow-Hawk once—at Gaerwen, where a male was gibbeted in a keeper's museum, along with a couple of Stoats and eighteen Weasels.

There were several large colonies of Jackdaws along these cliffs, and a few pairs of Carrion-Crows were scattered here and there. At one place we came upon a pair of Ravens in attendance on a brood of young which had not long left the nest. As at Penmon, the Meadow-Pipit was not uncommon, and the Rock-Pipit was feeding young in many places early in June. The tangle-covered débris at the foot of the cliffs provided a feeding-ground at low-water for many Oystercatchers and a few Sheld-Ducks. It was evident from their excited behaviour that some of the Oystercatchers had young along the edge of the crags. On the sand at Redwharf Bay were a number of Sheld-Ducks, which were breeding in an adjacent warren; here, too, on the shingle were a few pairs of Ringed Plovers, a species which was nesting in several places on the low-lying coast between Penmon and Beaumaris.

At one place on the cliffs the Swift, which was distributed throughout the district, was nesting in some numbers; and at the same spot a colony of about thirty pairs of House-Martins had their nests on the precipitous limestone rock-face. The House-Martin, unlike the Swallow, was by no means common; indeed, we did not meet with any in that part of the district south-west of Menai Bridge. The Sand-Martin, too, was not plentiful, but a few pairs were nesting in the low marl-cliffs between Penmon and Beaumaris.

Half a mile north-east of Penmon Point lies Priestholm, or Puffin, an island, rising some two hundred feet above the sea, bounded by rugged limestone cliffs. "On this island," according to Willughby, "build the Anates Arcticæ of Clussius (here called Puffins), Razorbills, Guilliams, Cormorants, and divers sorts of Gulls." On June 6th we visited the island, where we found the "divers sorts" to be three species—Herring and Lesser Black-backed Gulls and Kittiwakes. Herring-Gulls, abundant on the cliffs of the mainland, swarmed here; the colonies practically extending round the island. Most of the birds were feeding downy young—some of them well-grown—but hundreds of nests still contained eggs. The clamour of thousands of voices, and the sight of the cloud of white birds above the blue water was most impressive. On the seaward or northern side of the island there were a few scattered pairs of Lesser Black-backed Gulls amongst the Herring-Gulls, but at the southern extremity they were massed in a large colony, and at this place far outnumbered the other species. Pennant was acquainted with the Lesser Black-backed Gull, for in his 'Zoologia Britannica' (4th edit. 1776–77) he accurately described the bird, which he met with in Anglesea, in his article on the Great Black-backed Gull, although he was undecided whether it was a distinct species or merely a variety of the larger bird. It does not appear, however, to be common during the breeding season in North Wales, and Mr. O.V. Aplin, to whom we are indebted for calling our attention to Pennant's description, has not so far found it nesting on the coast of Lleyn.

The Kittiwakes were restricted to a short stretch of low precipitous cliffs on the northern side, where they had availed themselves of the slightest projections on which to place their apparently inadequate nests. In addition to the small colony on the island, a few pairs were nesting at one spot on the adjacent mainland. Though there were many Cormorants standing with outspread wings on the rocks, none appear to nest now on Puffin; nor did we see Shags here, or, indeed, in any other part of the district. Except on the seaward side, the cliffs are hardly steep enough for Guillemots or Razorbills, but a fair number of each were breeding in proximity to the Kittiwakes.

The thrift-covered turf slope above the cliffs on the western side is honeycombed with the burrows of Puffins, but the colony cannot compare in size with others which we have visited on the coast of Wales. The birds were brooding in their holes, and at every few steps, as we crossed the turf, one would bustle out, fly down the slope, just clear of the ground, and drop diagonally to the water. The Puffin appears to have formerly resorted to the island in much greater numbers, for Bingley ('A Tour through North Wales,' 1800) says:—"I had a sight of upwards of Fifty Acres of Land literally covered with Puffins, and my Calculation is much within Compass, when I declare that the Numbers here, must have been more than Fifty Thousand."

It is asserted that the Puffins were at one time almost, if not entirely, driven away by the Rats, which had taken refuge on the island from the wreck of a Prussian vessel in 1816 or 1817. Bell ('British Quadrupeds,' 2nd edit. p. 313), referring to this occurrence, says that not only were the Puffins evicted, but the vast numbers of Rabbits with which the island was stocked were destroyed by the Rats, which soon overran the place. The birds certainly do not now resort to the island in anything like the numbers mentioned by Bingley, and it is possible that they suffered from the increase of the Rats, but it is doubtful if they were ever entirely banished. The old sexton at Penmon assured us that, when he was a boy, his father used to visit the island in July for the purpose of collecting the nestling Puffins, of which he used to gather as many as fifteen dozen in a morning. These were pickled, packed in small barrels, and sent into England, where they commanded a ready sale; but the practice had been discontinued for about sixty years. According to the old man's statement, it would appear that the young birds were taken regularly for at least twenty years after the wreck of what he called "the Rooshian barque," the particulars of which disaster had often been related to him by his parents.

The custom of farming the young Puffins is evidently an ancient one; it is alluded to by Edward Pugh ('Cambria Depicta,' 1816). In his description of Puffin Island, he says:—"I was a little surprised to find so desolate a place, extending threefourths of a mile, and literally half covered with those indolent birds called puffins.... We walked to the extremity of the island, the boatman frequently shoving his arm up to the shoulder in the burrows, and bringing out the young puffins, to examine whether they were ripe, or fit to take." The island was "farmed" by the Bulkelys "to this man, and one or two others, who take the young birds when not yet able to fly, pickle, and put them in barrels of 12 inches long; then they are sold at about three or four shillings per barrel, sent to different parts of England, and are considered a great luxury."

A few demonstrative Oystercatchers, and a pair of Lapwings evidently had young on the island, and Rock-Pipits were nesting in several places on the cliffs. The Sheld-Duck is usually associated in one's mind with warrens, marshes, and coast sandhills, and we were rather surprised to flush a party of sixteen adults from the top of the cliff, between 100 and 150 ft. above the sea, and to find at this spot that the birds were nesting. In one Rabbit-hole we found eight fresh eggs on a nest of light grey down, within arm's reach, and pieces of down at the mouths of other burrows showed that there were more nests in close proximity.

We saw a pair of Carrion-Crows, and on the Puffin ground a Lesser Black-backed Gull repeatedly swooped at a young Crow which cowered amongst the pink thrift. There is hardly any cover for hedge-building birds, but Blackbirds, Thrushes, and Hedge-Sparrows were feeding young in a small patch of brambles, stunted elders, and thorns on the lee-side of the island. The other species we noticed—Starling, Wheatear, Sky-Lark, and Meadow-Pipit—were all abundant on the adjacent mainland.

Away from the coast, on the gorse-covered commons, and where the outcrops of metamorphic rock defy the efforts and primitive methods of the Anglesea agriculturist, the Linnet and Stonechat were dominant birds. On Mynydd Llwydiarth, a rough hilly country overlooking Redwharf Bay, we noticed one or two pairs of Whinchats, a species which we only saw in one other locality. Snipe were drumming on these hills, and we met with others near Llangoed. The Nightjar, which was also here, appears to be a common species in Anglesea.

Many of the small stony pasture-fields are bounded by low bramble-grown turf walls, which provide abundant cover for Whitethroats, Blackbirds, and Yellowhammers. Here the Corn-Bunting, perched on the highest spray, uttered his grating but not unpleasing song; this bird, however, was by no means generally distributed, being nothing like so plentiful as in the north and west of Anglesea. The Snow-Bunting is probably not infrequent on the coast in hard weather; we saw a bird at Penmon which had been killed against the telegraph-wires in January, 1902. Throughout the inland district, as well as on the coast, the Cuckoo was fairly plentiful. We may here mention that on Nov. 10th, 1899, a female Yellow-billed Cuckoo was found dead on the shores of the Menai Straits at Craig-y-don, near Garth Ferry, during a westerly gale (Geo. Dickinson, 'Ibis,' January, 1900, p. 219).

We saw a good number of Mistle-Thrushes in the fields and about the smaller plantations, and near Penmon we picked up the shrivelled bodies of two Redwings. The old thorns in the Park had probably proved an attraction to this species in the hard weather in the previous February. Although we kept a constant look-out, we failed to meet with the Yellow Wagtail. The Pied was not uncommon, and the Grey was nesting in two places; a pair were feeding their young in the bed of a stream at Plas Newydd Park-gates on May 21st, and we several times saw another pair in a little dell between Menai and Garth Ferry. The twitter and trill of the Redpoll in flight attracted our attention everywhere; the bird was exceedingly abundant, not only in the wooded belt near the Straits, but along the hedges, and on gorse-covered hill-sides and commons.

Pheasants are hand-reared in many places, and the Partridge, owing to preservation, is not uncommon. The Landrail we found exceedingly abundant; in May and June birds were incessantly craking in almost every field. Both Coots and Moorhens were nesting in some numbers in the llyns near Beaumaris, and the latter on brooks and small ponds in many places. The Coot was specially abundant on Llyn Bodgolched, a fair-sized pool, much choked with rushes and buckbean. Here were also a pair of Redshanks, several Mallards, and a few Reed-Buntings. The last-named bird appears to be very local in Eastern Anglesea.

The nature of the country in the southern part of the district is very different from the high land on the north-east coast. Here the Rivers Cefni and Braint enter Carnarvon Bay after they have flowed through low-lying marshy valleys separated by a low ridge of cultivated land which terminates in Newborough Warren, a great waste of sand-hills extending two miles back from the shore, and with a sea-frontage of nearly four miles. From just below Llangefni to Maldraeth Yard, a distance of some five miles, the Cefni flows between artificial banks which prevent the valley from being inundated by the tide. The reclaimed land is, however, in many places impassable swamp, while even the best pastures are thickly grown with rushes. The lush meadows are divided by deep muddy ditches, and in places by dense untrimmed whitethorn hedges, which, when we visited the marshes, were full of noisy Whitethroats.

On May 21st the hedgerows and the beds of rank herbage in swampy places were ringing with the songs of Sedge-Warblers. We had not noticed this bird in the wooded country between Beaumaris and Llanidan, and it was by no means common elsewhere. At noon, in bright sunshine, a Grasshopper-Warbler was reeling from the top of a low thorn-hedge; it allowed us to approach within a few yards, and we were able to see that during the snatches of song its widely gaping mandibles were never closed. When the bird flitted along the hedge its rounded tail was very noticeable. When we passed the spot some three hours later the bird was still singing. Like the Sedge-Warbler, the Reed-Bunting, though rare elsewhere, swarmed in these marshes; and here also we saw one or two Whinchats.

At one place on the marshes—near the site of some old colliery workings—are two or three fair-sized shallow pools, fringed with extensive beds of rushes and a few patches of reed. A Cormorant was fishing in the open water, a Heron in the shallows, and on an old spoil-bank, by the margin of the pools, a solitary Whimbrel was feeding. Swifts and Sand-Martins were hawking above the water, whose surface was dotted with Coots and Moorhens. Many of the Coots were attended by young, and one nest, in a patch of rushes, contained a young bird and some unhatched eggs. The little creature, which was actively scrambling about in the nest, constantly uttered a querulous wheezing pipe. Its whitish beak, brilliant scarlet forehead, shading into orange on the sides of the head, and vivid blue crown, together with its hairy black down, rendered it strikingly different from an adult bird. A female Mallard with downy young took refuge in the reeds as we approached, and a pair of Teal rose from the water; on another pool we saw a second Teal drake. On the marsh contiguous to the pools about a hundred Mallards, mostly drakes, were resting; some standing, others lying on the short turf. With them was a pair of Shovelers, the white on the neck and back and the chestnut breast of the drake making it conspicuous amongst the darker-plumaged Mallards. When the birds rose, the Shovelers flew apart, their low "tuk tuk" sounding very different from the noisy "quack" of the commoner species as they passed over.

Newborough Warren, a desolate waste of blown sand, whose unstable dunes are but partially held in place by the roots of maram-grass and dwarf willow-scrub, provides, in its innumerable Rabbit-burrows, nesting-holes for Wheatears, Stock-Doves, Starlings, and Sheld-Ducks. In the hollows between the dunes, where after heavy rain the water lodges and where butterwort and other marsh-plants abound, the Snipe and Lapwing were nesting. On the edge of the Warren, a little llyn, pink at one end with the flowers of buckbean, was inhabited by several pairs of Coots and Moorhens; and on its sandy margin we saw a pair of Sandpipers. We only observed this bird elsewhere, on the Cefni, in Malldraeth Marsh, and on the shore of the Straits near Menai Bridge. On May 19th, when we first visited this pool, we found the floating nest of a Dabchick moored in a bed of Equisetum; and, on removing the sodden covering of weed, we found five eggs, four belonging to the legitimate owner, and one being that of a Moorhen. The only other spot where we met with the Dabchick was on Llyn Llwydiarth, where we saw a pair on June 9th.

At dusk we heard the churring of the Nightjar in many parts of the sand-hills. In one place we saw a pair of Merlins which were evidently nesting; we were also shown eggs which had been taken from a nest in the maram-grass more than two miles from this spot. A colony of about forty pairs of Common Terns had their nests on the summits of the sand-hills near Aber Menai Point, and a few pairs of Lesser Terns had eggs in the shingle in the same locality, and on the sands of the Malldraeth Estuary. On June 12th, when we were near the colony of Common Terns, two Great Black-backed Gulls passed over; they were hotly pursued by the Terns, as were the Herring-Gulls which drifted by from time to time. When the big Gulls pitched on the sand we could see that one was an adult, and the other not fully mature, having the back lighter, and the tail tipped with black. On this day we found eggs of the Oystercatcher and Ringed Plover near Aber Menai. Both species were plentiful along the beach, the former often in flocks; the previous day we saw between fifty and sixty on the saltings near Malldraeth. Blackheaded Gulls were abundant in the upper part of the estuary.

During May and June the majority of the Curlews are on their breeding-grounds, but we saw a few in the Straits, and on the Malldraeth Estuary. The Whimbrel, however, is more in evidence at this time; we saw the bird near Beaumaris, in the Straits below the Bridges, and in Malldraeth Estuary. On May 18th we watched a party of twelve at low water on the shore below Llanidan. Their characteristic cry, uttered especially on the wing, first drew our attention to the birds, which were feeding on the exposed banks, or wading belly-deep in the pools. In the strong sunlight the light stripe on the crown was very conspicuous when the birds lowered their heads to feed.

Malldraeth Estuary at low water is a broad expanse of sand, with many shallow lagoons, separated from the Warren by an extensive salt-marsh, which is resorted to by large numbers of Sheld-Ducks. On May 19th, when walking along the shore, we saw several odd birds and pairs, and on reaching the saltings we were delighted to find no fewer than sixty-one Sheld-Ducks sitting or standing amongst the rushes. In striking contrast to a pair of yelping Redshanks, the Sheld-Ducks were surprisingly tame, often allowing us to approach within a few yards; and even when they flew, they merely moved as far as a lagoon at the edge of the marsh, where they waded and fed in the shallow water. Near Malldraeth Yard, where the high road skirts a big tidal pool, the Sheld-Ducks, unlike the Herons which were feeding in the pool, paid but little attention to passers-by. Many domestic Ducks were feeding here, but the wild birds would allow no encroachment upon the spot where they happened to be feeding, driving the domestic birds away. The Sheld-Ducks often rose from the marsh in pairs, the duck, on the wing, being noticeably smaller than the drake.

When we visited the district later—on June 12th and 13th—we found about the same number of birds on the saltings; and in several places on the sand-hills we saw the footprints of old and young leading down to the shore. Near Aber Menai Point we came suddenly on a pair with eight small young ones, which were paddling at the edge of the tide. Both old birds at once squattered along the water like a Mallard duck, while the young rushed into the waves, paddling out to sea in a different direction from that taken by their parents. The male desisted first from these alluring tactics, and presently both birds swam out and joined the young, which were by then some distance from the shore.

Other birds with young broods were swimming at sea, and on the marsh we came across a family which scuttered through the rushes before us. One of these which we captured—a bird about a third grown—was clothed in greyish-white down, with a broad brown band from the forehead to the tail, crossed on the shoulders by a band extending to the tips of the wings, and by another, in the pelvic region, which extended to the thighs. The bill was lead-blue, with a small whitish nail, and the legs and feet leadblue, tinged with olive-green.

 

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1. This spot appears to have escaped the notice of many ornithologists, whose descriptions have been compiled from the examination of dried skins. The spot is not shown in the figures of the bird in Dresser's 'Birds of Europe,' and Lilford's 'Coloured Figures of the Birds of the British Islands,' although it is undoubtedly present in the skins from which the figures were drawn. We have examined these skins in the Dresser Collection at Owens College, Manchester, and found that, owing to the contraction of the skin over the orbit, the spot is practically obliterated in dried specimens.