life in the snow is an interesting study. I f you stroll out into the woods on a wintry morning, before
the first freshness of the snow-storm has passed away, a dreamy quietness seems to be everywhere;
animals that betrayed their presence amongst the autumn leaves when the ground was bare, now
steal silently .away, and every thing seems changed by the sudden transformation of a night. The
broad-leafed laurels and the dense yews and hollies bend under their heavy pall of dazzling
whiteness. Here and there on the trunks of the forest-trees the snow has lodged in the rifts oi the
bark, and each branch and twig of the hedgerows is clothed in a fair frost-work of silver filagree,
whilst overhead the network of branches comes indistinctly out against the leaden sky above.
Animals are now betrayed by their tracks upon the snow. Here a hare has crossed, and, doubling,
has passed over the turnips, and found her ‘ seat’ in some warm hedgerow. There a weasel has
come from the stone-heap, and, in irregular march, has entered the shrubbery. The Blackbird has
hopped out onto the snowy lawn, in vain search for a scanty sustenance ; and on an old stump a
Robin has perched to warble his morning song. The ‘ spoor ’ of each is now made plain—the telltale
snow reveals them all. But if you want to see the Fieldfares you must not look for them on the
ground, but in the hawthorn trees. Long before you approach them they probably take wing in a
straggling train, scattering the snow in showers from the twigs, and their harsh notes of tsaJc, tsiJe,
isak ring clearly out on the bracing frosty air. From tree to tree they fly before you, always keeping
out of gunshot, or, if thoroughly alarmed, mounting into the air, and, in a widely scattered flock,
taking themselves off to a distance, their dark forms appearing large against the sky as they quickly
pass away. The flight of the Fieldfare is not particularly rapid, but is straight forward, and with
but little undulation, and is performed by a series of quick flapping movements. Sometimes the
birds will go through a number of graceful evolutions in the air before alighting on a favourite
pasture. When alarmed, they fly to the nearest tree-tops, where they sometimes join in a melodious
concert, like Redwings, although just as frequently they will fly straight away. But the Fieldfare is
far the oftenest seen in the branches. Like the Mistle-Thrush, with whom they often associate, they
haunt the berry-bearing trees and shrubs; and as soon as the stock of food is exhausted in one
locality they commence their nomad life again, and are off in search of more suitable pastures. At
nightfall the Fieldfare is found in the shrubberies and near the evergreen trees and bushes, where it
retires to roost. Like the Redwing and the Blackbird, the Fieldfare becomes vociferous at the
approach of dusk, and its peculiar chattering cry and low guttural call-notes are heard well • into
twilight. It has been said that the Fieldfare roosts upon the ground ; but this is undoubtedly from
necessity, not from choice; for the bird, though, like all other Thrushes, for the most part a ground
feeder, has none of the characteristics of ground-birds, as the Larks and Pipits, and where evergreens
are at hand it always avails itself of their shelter. Instances are alleged of these birds having been
flushed from the stubbles or the pastures at dusk; but this is the Fieldfare’s feeding-hour; and if
shrubberies be near at hand, it is there they spend the night.
“ The Fieldfare is less exclusively insectivorous than the Redwing. In winter these birds are
sometimes found upon the stubbles and wilder pastures (places the Lark loves to frequent), where
they consume the scattered grain, and pick out the seeds of the various grasses. But they also
search at times the marshy meadows and' pasture-lands for snails, worms, and beetles; and if the
frost lasts long and vegetable food is hard to find, they will haunt the banks of the running streams
for the sake of the scanty insect-fare they afford. In winter the Fieldfare seems most at home
amongst the branches of berry-bearing trees and shrubs. He is then a thorough berry feederj and
all the winter fruits form his fare. He is often seen in the mountain-ash, or in amongst the dense
thickets of wild rose and bramble, where the ‘ hips * grow the thickest; but the food he loves best
appears to be the berries of the hawthorn. It is a pleasing sight to see a flock of Fieldfares, when
the ground lies inches deep in snow, in the dense branches of these trees, obtaining the berries
which hang in such tempting clusters from almost every twig. It is difficult to say when these trees
look best—in the spring, when they look almost as white as the driven snow, and their delicate
foliage shines like emeralds, or in the winter, when their rich red fruit sets off the leafless branches.
Under the" trees the berries lie in all directions, for the birds drop or knock off almost as many
as they eat; and the-stones are ever falling as they are dexterously shelled out by the feeding
birds above. The Fieldfare’s summer food consists of insects, worms, caterpillars, and grubs,
and, on its arrival at its breeding-grounds in high latitudes, of the various moorland berries that are
preserved by the snows of winter.
“ Although the Fieldfare warbles occasionally during its winter sojourn amongst us, still its
love-song is only heard amongst the wild scenery of its northern haunts. About the end of April or
the first week in May the Fieldfare quits the British shores for the north; and upon its arrival its
love-song commences. This bird is not a free singer at all; and his song is for the most part
confined to the pairing-season. It is often commenced when the bird is on the wing—a wild
desultory warble, which he often supplements on his perch by notes reminding one of the peculiar
chatter of the Starling. From all parts of the forest the birds are heard to sin g ; and their wild
carols break the stillness of the daily lessening arctic twilight. By many persons the Fieldfare is
thought to be a songless bird; others speak but poorly of his musical attainments. But the former
have evidently missed the season of the bird’s melody; and the others have possibly been too much
accustomed to more ambitious songsters to dio justice to his simple strains. The Fieldfare’s love-
song is a pleasant addition to the thousands of songsters that make the Arctic summer so gay and
lively. The call or alarm-note o f the Fieldfare is a sharp chattering cry—a kind of laughing cackle
—several times repeated, and uttered most frequently during the breeding-season; and in the winter
it is often heard to utter a low guttural warble, usually at roosting-time.
“ The Fieldfare builds its nest in the branches of the birch, the alder, or the pine at various
elevations from the ground. . Sometimes, though rarely, it is placed in outhouses, in situations
similar to those which our own Blackbird would choose, or in heaps of rubbish or low bushes only a
foot or so from the earth. Nesting-operations usually commeuce about the third week in May ; and
-eggs may be obtained from that date up to the first week in July. This bird is very irregular in
breeding. You may not unfrequently take young birds and newly laid eggs from the same colony.
The nest is very similar to the Blackbird’s or the Ring-Ouzel’s in construction and materials. The
outside is made of coarse dry grass, with sometimes a few birch-twigs or a little moss interwoven,
then plastered with mud and finally lined with a thick bed of fine grass. The eggs are from four to
six in number, and, in rare instances, as many as seven or as few as three. None of our British
Thrushes’ eggs vary so widely as do the eggs of the Fieldfare. The average type of the egg is bluish
green in ground-colour, thickly marbled, speckled, and blotched over the entire surface with rich
reddish brown, the spots being the densest on the larger end, in fact resembling a very handsome
Blackbird’s egg. Some varieties are pale greenish, with the spots and streaks distributed equally
over the whole surface and very pale and indistinct, like the duller eggs of the Blackbird; in others
the egg is paler in ground-colour, but thickly and boldly blotched with reddish brown, like typical
eggs of the Ring-Ouzel; while yet, again, specimens are more rarely met with almost as blue as
those of the Song-Thrush, and with but one or two streaks of liver-brown on the larger end.
They vary in length from 1*35 to l -02 inch, and in breadth from -9 to '1 inch. When their nests
are approached the birds often become very noisy and behave like Mistle-Thrushes, flying round the
head of the intruder, and endeavouring to drive him away from their haunt. This conduct is more
noticeable should the nests contain young birds; but their constitutional shyness soon prevails over
their parental instincts, and before you have climbed your second tree, all trace of the Fieldfares
has vanished, except the sound of their tsak, tsaJc in the distance.