Vanellus cristatus [Lapwing].
Found on heaths and moors, and in fields, where they breed. Many of them leave us towards winter. This is another species which endeavours to mislead you when searching for its eggs. Of all our field and heath birds, the lapwing is one of the most useful in destroying destructive insects, such as Zabrus gibbus, etc.
Strepsilas interpres [Turnstone].
An occasional visitor, generally in winter. (See [p. 242].)
Calidris arenaria [Sanderling].
A regular visitor, generally arriving in August, a few of them remaining through the winter. I have met with them, too, in summer, when their predominant colour, instead of being whitish, is a most beautiful reddish fawn. On their first arrival here they are very tame, allowing you to approach within a yard or two. (See [p. 175].)
Hæmatopus ostralegus [Oystercatcher].
Why this bird is called oystercatcher, I cannot understand. Had it been named “limpetcatcher” I could have understood it. I have crawled amongst the rocks in order to see them feed; when I have seen the limpet driven from its hold, and scooped out of its shell with as much apparent ease as I could have picked up a Gammaris locusta; but I have never seen it attempt to catch an oyster. On this part of the coast its food generally consists of the limpet, and very rarely of Acmæa testitudinalis. I have counted as many as forty-one of the former in the stomach of a single bird, whilst of the latter I have not met with more than three or four examples. The oystercatcher is a summer visitor with us, arriving here to breed. Now and then it may be seen during winter. Large flocks visit us some seasons, generally in September, and after remaining for a day proceed farther south. “Sea piet” is the name the bird is known by here.
Ardea cinerea [Heron].
We have some small spots where these birds breed, but which hardly deserve the name of heronries. At one time, however, they were in greater numbers. I remember taking from the stomach of one a large water-rat, three middle-sized trout, and fifteen minnows. Some time ago, a person belonging to this town, whilst passing through one of the streets, was startled at being hit on the head by something which had fallen from above, and which proved to be a small fish, the five-bearded rockling, apparently quite fresh. On looking up he saw nothing but a “craigie” passing over the houses, pursued by a number of crows. Of course the fish had dropped from the heron; but the man could not be persuaded that it had not dropped from the clouds.