myself been fortunate enough in the Forest to find their nest, but I have often watched a pair on Black Knoll and Beaulieu Heath skimming over the ground, pausing to hover just above the furze, then flying forward for some ten or twenty yards, turning themselves suddenly sideways; and then again, for a minute, poising, kestrel-like, beating each bush, and every now and then going up a little higher in the air, but quickly coming down close over the cover.
Passing from the falcons, let us look at the owls, of which the Forest possesses four, if not more, varieties. The commonest is the tawny (Strix aluco), whose hooting fills the woods all through the winter. At Stoney Cross I have repeatedly heard, on a still November night, a pair of them calling to one another at least two miles apart. It not only breeds in holes of trees, but in old crows'-nests, and will often, when its eggs are taken, lay again within a week. The barn owl, strange to say, is not much more abundant than the long-eared (Strix otus), which breeds in the old holly-bushes, generally taking some magpie's nest, where it lays three eggs. Rarer still is the short-eared (Strix brachyotus), which visits the Forest in November, staying through the winter, and in the day-time rising out of the dry heath and withered fern.[1]
Leaving the owls, let us notice some of the other birds. Many a time, in the cold days of March, have I seen the woodcocks, in the new oak plantations of Wootton, carrying their young under their wing, clutching them up in their large claws. Here, on the ground, they lay their eggs, which are of the same colour as the withered oak-leaves—a dull ochre, spotted
- ↑ For some account of the little owl (Strix passerina), see Appendix III. under the section of Stragglers, p. 314.
