on the moor. Here, in a precisely similar manner to the Blackbird, the Ring-Ouzel seeks his food,
which consists of the worms and small sings abounding in the earth and on the blades of grass.
Every few moments he hops forward, looks warily around, and then commences digging for his
prey, occasionally pausing in his labours with head erect, as if fearful of discovery so far from the
friendly cover of the heath. On the moor itself he obtains much of his sustenance. The droppings
from the cattle and the sheep that pasture there abound with small beetles and insects, which the
bird searches for and captures, just as the Blackbird does on the lowland pastures, lhen, too,
amongst the wild luxuriant growth of vegetation on the moor, numerous shells are found; and the
snails that tenant them are eaten, the bird breaking the shells, just like the Thrush or Blackbird*
on some convenient stone or rock. The Ring-Ouzel is also passionately fond of fruits and beiries,
indeed, from July to the time of his departure for the south, these form his favourite fare. The wild
berries of the moorland, the billberry, cranberry, clusterberry, and other fruits, are eaten, as are also
the berries of the mountain-ash. The gardens near the Ring-Ouzel’s haunts are also visited and
plundered, all the smaller fruits being eaten, and also the plums and cherries. Ivy-berries,
elder-berries, and the luscious fruit of the bramble are also part of the bird s autumn food; and the
vineyards o f France and Spain are visited on the bird’s passage south for the sake of the dainty
fare they afford.
“ Soon after their arrival at their breeding-grounds the male Ring-Ouzels are heard singing in all
directions, and, by exercising a little caution, you may get within a few yards of the bird and thus
observe him closely. Sometimes he is perched on the rocky walls that there do duty for hedges;
sometimes he is sitting on a tuft of heather, or on a gorse bush, or on the branches of some silver
birch or mountain-ash, yet, perhaps, most frequently of all on the summit of a grey boulder.
Monotonous as is the song of the Ring-Ouzel, still its loud tones and the bold bearing of the bird
itself fully harmonize with the wild surroundings. You may often see him perched on some
storm-riven tree growing out of the grey rocks, where, with his white breast glistening in the sun, he
sits motionless and pours forth his wild notes. His . song resembles in part that of the Starling, the
Blackbird, and the Song-Thrush. The bird, after several piping notes, utters a few harsh tones, as if
in mockery of his own performance, probably a minute passing between each snatch of song. I f you
alarm him, his wild notes cease at once, and, with his wild cries echoing in the rocks around*, he
either drops down into the heath or flies away to a more secluded resting-place. The claims of the
Ring-Ouzel to the rank of a first-rate songster may be disputed, and his musical powers be
unfavourably compared with those of the Song-Thrush or the Blackbird; still there is a wild freedom
in them which gives them a peculiar charm, and the wild nature of the surrounding landscape is also
much enhanced in beauty by a soDg as clear and melodious in tone as the scenery around is grand
and impressive; If it be the surroundings alone that gain the Ring-Ouzel his musical reputation,
then most surely it is the shaded dells and wooded copses' that bring the Song-Thrush s music and
the Blackbird’s trills into such high repute.
“ The call-notes of the Ring-Ouzel are somewhat varied. Sometimes they are as low and
musical as a Wheatear’s (call-notes to each other, in fact); sometimes the note is a piping cry,
apparently confined to the male bird alone, with which he speaks to his mate. But the alarm-note
is a sharp tac-tqc-tac, tac-tac-tac, repeated more frequently and loudly should you happen to be in
the neighbourhood of the nest.
“ The Ring-Ouzel very probably pairs annually, soon after its arrival at its breeding-grounds;
and a week or so later the birds are engaged in the duties of the season—towards the end of April ;‘
yet eggs can be obtained throughout the whole of May and even till July, although these may be the
eggs of birds whose first clutch was destroyed. The nest of the Ring-Ouzel is generally placed on
the ground, in a hollow in the midst of the ling, which effectually conceals it. Occasionally it will
be found in a bush or stunted tree, but never at any great elevation. In the heather on an
embankment, where the soil has given way and left an abrupt edge, is a favourite place. Wherever
there is a steep bank covered with high heath, whether it be sloping down to a stream or an old
road, you may almost safely calculate on finding a nest every few hundred yards or so, always placed
in the shelter of the highest heather (a foot high or more). Sometimes holes in the rock itself are
chosen, where: a few plants of heath have gained a footing and almost completely shelter the nest
from view. Like the nests of all the Thrushes, that of the Ring-Ouzel undergoes three distinct
stages before completion, and is always well and compactly constructed. I t is made of coarse grass,
with perhaps a few twigs of heather to bind the materials together; and a few withered leaves are
sometimes added. This grass-formed nest is then lined with mud or clay from the neighbouring
bogs or stream-banks. At this stage the nest is remarkably deep; but the thick lining of fine
grass which is now added brings the nest, to more even proportions. When examining the nest-
of this bird, its close resemblance to that of the Blackbird will be noticed, Indeed it would
be almost impossible to discriminate between them, were we not aware that the Blackbird does
not haunt the wild open moor. In the districts where the habitats of these two birds adjoin
(the boundary of cultivation and the wild), nothing but a sight of the parent birds can make
identification sure.
“ The Ring-Ouzel lays four or five finely-marked eggs, bluish green in ground-colour, boldly
and richly blotched with reddish brown, and sometimes streaked with dark brown. One variety is
very elongated and very pale in ground-colour, the markings being represented by small specks,
with a. few splashes on the larger end. A second is almost rouDd, intense bluish green in
ground-colour, boldly yet sparingly blotched with surface-markings of purplish brown and pale
dashes of purple. A third is brownish green in ground-colour, blotched, clouded, and spotted
with pale reddish brown and light dashes of purple; while a fourth is similar in ground-colour,
but has the brown markings chiefly on the larger end of the egg, where they form a broad zone, and
is also streaked with dark wavy lines of brown. So closely do the eggs of this bird resemble those
of the Blackbird and the Fieldfare, that, were a series of the eggs of these three birds mixed
promiscuously, it would be absolutely impossible to separate all of them correctly. Nevertheless, on
an average, the Ring-Ouzel’s eggs have the ground-colour clearer, and are more boldly and richly
marked, than those of the Blackbird. They vary in length from 1*55 to 108 inch, and in breadth
from 0-9 to 0*78 inch.
“ No birds defend their eggs or young with more matchless courage than the Ring-Ouzel.
Approach their treasure, and, although you have no knowledge of its whereabouts, you speedily
know that you are on sacred ground, or, more plainly speaking, on the nesting-site of this bird of
the moor. Something sweeps suddenly round your head, probably brushing your face. You look
round; and there the Ring-Ouzel, perched close at hand, is eying you wrathfully, and ready to do
battle, despite the odds, for the protection of her abode. Move, and the attack is renewed, this
time with loud and dissonant cries that wake the solitudes of the barren moor around. Undauntedly
the birds fly round you, pause for a moment on some mass of rock, or reel and tumble on the
ground to decoy you away. As you approach still closer, the anxiety of the female, if possible,
increases; her cries, with those of her mate, disturb the birds around: the Red Grouse, startled,
skims over the shoulder of the hill to find solitude; the Moor-Pipit chirps anxiously by; and the gay
little Stonechat flits uneasily from bush to bush. So long as you tarry near their treasure the birds
will accompany you, and, by using every artifice, endeavour to allure or drive you away from its
vicinity. Even when the nest is but half built, the birds display remarkable attachment to it, as is
also the case with the Chaffinch; and the same motions are gone through as though it contained
eggs or young birds.