Weihaiwei, Mar. 31.—This morning as I entered my garden I noted a flight of about 20 Plover wheeling in that beautiful downward spiral which indicates that they are about to alight: perhaps they were attracted by the newly-turned earth in which they delight to rest... for the earth-clods give them a perfect camouflage, and possibly afford them a meal: seen from below they appeared to be black and white in colour, but their wing-motion in perfect unison easily identified them. (By the way, I may be taken to task for not referring to them as a "dopping lof Plover," for so they are called by sportsmen owing to their dipping or "dopping" flight, but I seldom use these technical phrases). Just as these migrants were some thirty feet from the ground, I was astonished to see the hindmost bird suddenly swerve sideways as the grey brown body of a Falcon appeared as if by magic (possibly from my chimney-top) and hurled itself at terrific speed on the only loose bird: she missed by a matter of inches as the Plover dived into a deep ravine, to appear later flying round in a wide circle to rejoin its brethren: the Falcon all but struck the barbed-wire strands on top of my fence and had almost to "loop the loop" to avoid damage: this gave the Plovers their chance as they rose in a body, gaining height with incredible swiftness, and flying in a solid phalanx, well above the falcon, but following its exact direction of flight. So far as my eyes could follow them, the Falcon
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