True birds-of-prey seldom appear in or over my garden. Occasionally, when watching from my roof-garden, I máy see a kite or a falcon.or one of the Smaller hawks fly by, and once or twice I have seen a sparrow hawk swoop into the garden itself in an attempt to seize a sparrow. Wily birds these. They first spy out the land as they range high in the air. Noting where a group of sparrows are feeding on the ground, they pass on as if they had seen nothing. When out of sight of the unsuspecting sparrows they quickly drop to a low level, turn, and then, flying low to-"ward the feeding birds, and, using a fence, a house or a hedge as cover, they suddenly rise "over the latter and swoop amongst the terrified sparrows, which scatter in every direction as they seek the shelter of nearby bushes. If this diabolically cunning manœuvre succeeds, the hawk flies off with its victim to some coign of vantage where it enjoys a good meal. If it fails, the disappoint! ed hunter goes on its way as if noth-saw a sparrow-hawk or small falcon capture a bat in mid-air and fly away eating it as it went.
While on the subject of bats, it is interesting to note that every evening in the Western District of Shanghai a remarkable phenomenon occurs. Watching from my roof-garden I see daily at about six o'clock, local mean time (seven o'clock, summer time) large flocks of sparrows coming in n surrounded my house. Only from ihe open country to the west ace aren ME T seen tiis bube. Of] hóuses. Exactly half an hour later, boy to roost in the trees amongst the [that is, at six-thirty local mean time (seven-thirty, summer time), bats begin to appear flying in the opposite direction, namely, from the town westward toward the open country, hundreds of them. At almost the same time, coming in from the open country to the west and flying towards ihe town, mày be seen large flocks of crows, or rooks, I should say, which have been foraging all day and now seek a roosting place on the city's roof-tops. At four o'clock in the morning the bats may be seen returning in the direction whence they came the evening before, and a little later the rooks may be seen going out of town westward. At just what hour of the day the sparrows seek the country I cannot say. Certainly those EP in my vicinity do not do so till after I have fed them. I fear I am getting [the younger generation of sparrows, this year's nestlings, into bad habits, for T notice that many of them seem io hang around all day, looking for odd grains of rice or millet or crumbs of bread, instead of going with their parents to learn how to forage in the country.
Just Like Children another frequenter gardens, always goes about of e dozen or more in.
keeping up an incessant chirping the while so that its presence once detected. None of these rds seems to take any interest in he food laid out on the lawn. During 1t is most interesting to watch these young sparrows playing about the lawn, exactly like children and just as mischievous and capable of getting into trouble. As dusk comes on, it is amusing to see them preparing for the night, each seeking a safe and sheltered resting place in the trees or shrubs, with a great chattering and twittering! They seem partjcularly fond of the Firmiana trees, the large leaves of which afford ample shelter in the event of rain. There visit in cold weather.
wagtails some-or settle on my or "roofs, is much pushing and shoving as each tiny bird tries to secure the best place for itself. Suddenly the cry of a Whitley's owlet is heard, and immediately every sparrow is silent and still. A dark form, moving on noiseless wings, appears as the owlet settles on the house-top or in one of the trees. Again that harsh cackling ery shatters the silence of the evening; a frightened sparrow, cowering closer to its perch, makes the faintest rustling noise. There is a scream, a swift swoop, a despairing cheep, and away goes the marauder with its victim tightly grasped in its cruel talons. Later there comes the long-drawn twittering cry of the same night-bird calling to its mate. This, however, is not the harsh cackle with which it frightens its prey, but a series of melodious notes of extraordinary sweetness. And so the day. which awoke to the songs and chirpings of countless little feathered optimists, ends in grim tragedy, yet with a touch of romance, leaving me a little sad on account of the one. but comforted that amidst death there is always the promise of new life which for ever triumphs over death.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.