The Zoologist/3rd series, vol 1 (1877)/Issue 7/Ornithological notes from the Lake District and Walney Island

by William Arthur Durnford

 

THE ZOOLOGIST

 

THIRD SERIES.

 

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ORNITHOLOGICAL NOTES FROM THE LAKE DISTRICT
AND WALNEY ISLAND.

By W.A. Durnford.

 

As a field for ornithological observation, I know no district of similar extent so entirely barren as the well-known Lake country. Residing within thirty miles of the heart of this district, it may be easily imagined that I should lose no opportunity of exploring its mountains and valleys, and thus pursuing the study of Natural History amidst some of the finest scenery our island can afford. The result is, however, most disappointing so far as animal life is concerned. During a three days' walking tour in the early part of June last, in the course of which I traversed a distance of about sixty miles, chiefly by unfrequented paths, the only birds which came under my notice, exclusive of those commoner species which seldom seem to wander far from human habitations, were a few pairs of Buzzards and Ravens, which I am glad to see still hold their own amidst the more inaccessible peaks in the neighbourhood of the higher mountains; a Merlin caught in a trap; a few Grouse, one of which I put up on Burnmoor—evidently the mother of a brood—succeeded, by feigning lameness, in leading a spaniel which accompanied me at least half a mile across the heather; a couple of Ring Ouzels; several Cuckoos; a Heron, which flew across Rydal Water, where floated a few Coots and Wild Ducks; a pair of Common Sandpipers sitting on the edge of Wastwater; a number of Curlews, which, to judge from their clamour, were breeding on the high ground above Ullswater; and some Gulls, chiefly Lesser Blackbacks, which are said to nest on some of the islands in Windermere.

This dearth of birds on the higher ground is, however, partly compensated for by the numerous species which may be seen at any time on the neighbouring coast extending from Morecambe Bay to Solway Firth. Notwithstanding the fact that the past winter has, in this neighbourhood at least, been one of the mildest on record, yet I am glad to be able to note that greater numbers of birds—mere especially those which come under the designation of sea-fowl—have visited our shores than have been observed for several seasons past in this locality. This fact must in the main be attributed to the prevalence of westerly and north-westerly gales, but I think it may be safely alleged that the protection afforded by the Sea Birds and Wild Fowl Preservation Acts has in some measure brought about this satisfactory state of things.

The Gullery on Walney Island was more thickly tenanted than ever during last summer—indeed the mortality arising from overcrowding was very considerable among the young birds. I observed that a larger number than usual of the Black-headed Gulls had taken up their abode towards the south end of the island, at a distance of four or five miles from the main body. Numbers of this species nest also on the Cumberland coast.

The local names of the birds which breed on Walney Island are perhaps worth noticing, and may be of use to future visitors to the locality. The Gulls are known as "Sea Maws"; Common and Arctic Terns arc designated as "Sparlings," the same term being applied to a Sandwich Tern which was brought to me on May 5th, and which I was charitable enough to suppose had been picked up dead. Ring Plovers are called "Grundlings"; the name Peewit is pronounced "Peuit" or "Teuit"; and Lesser Terns, or at least their eggs (for I can hardly think that such an unsuitable name can be applied to the bird itself), are termed "Sea Mice." "Shelducks" and "Sea-pies" speak for themselves; and the Stock Doves, which are tolerably plentiful, come under the general designation of "Pigeons." I may add, in reference to an editorial note in 'The Zoologist' for April, that Herons are here, as in Ireland, universally known as "Cranes."

Of the birds enumerated above as natives of Walney Island the most interesting is the Sheldrake, numerous pairs of which nest annually in the sand-hills both here and on the coast of Cumberland. This species disappears in the autumn, and resorts, I presume, to some more secluded spot, though where situated I have not been able to discover. On the 13th January of this year I saw a flock of about a hundred on the channel, preparing no doubt to spread themselves along the coast, where they may now be seen in pairs—a small remnant of the thousands which, within the memory of man used to frequent the warrens in this locality. Considerable numbers are unfortunately killed during the spring, and fetch a large price for ornamental purposes. Having always been under the impression that the young of these birds take to the water for refuge at the least alarm, I was somewhat surprised at what I witnessed on the 4th August, whilst out with my gun on one of the Cumberland estuaries. I had been watching, with a telescope, a brood of nine young Sheldrakes, which, together with their parents, were basking in the sun on the mud bordering the river,—at that time three or four hundred yards in breadth,—when, having inadvertently shown my head, the whole brood rushed helter-skelter into the water, swam rapidly across the stream, and, climbing out on the opposite bank, made off across the marsh towards a hedge which bounded the adjacent cornfields. About an hour later I came suddenly upon another brood in a much narrower part of the river, and they at once proceeded to dive with the speed of lightning, popping up and down again with such rapidity that I doubt whether I could have killed any had I felt so inclined. As in the former case, as soon as these had reached what they seemed to consider a safe distance, they also left the water and disappeared on the marsh the other side. On going round by the nearest bridge I could find no trace of the young birds, though the old ones were flying round at a safe distance. I ought to mention that at low tide the river was reduced to three or four feet in depth and about thirty yards in breadth, which would be sufficient to account for these unusual proceedings on the part of the young Sheldrakes, though the old birds might have provided more effectively for their safety by leading them down to the sea, about half a mile distant. A male bird which I killed later on the same day presented a very shabby appearance—a marked contrast, especially as regards the scarlet knob at the base of the beak and the brilliancy of its plumage, to a magnificent specimen which was obtained in March by the keeper of the Walney Lighthouse.

The first of what may be called the migratory ducks—those, namely, which do not, as a rule, nest in England—appeared on our large warm water reservoir (situated about a quarter of a mile from the sea, and in close proximity to the town of Barrow) on October 14th; and on the same day I obtained two Knots in winter plumage on the sea-shore. For about three weeks from this date ducks were tolerably plentiful on the reservoir and neighbouring ponds, and twelve or thirteen specimens, including Wigeon, Scoters, Goldeneye and Scaup Ducks were, to my knowledge, bagged during this period, independently of those killed on the coast. These birds were doubtless stragglers from flocks migrating southwards, and I could hear of no more being obtained till December 30th, when I killed a pair of Goldeneyes and a male Scaup on the same reservoir. At the same time a friend wounded another Scaup, which, being unable to fly, remains still (April) with us, fraternizing with some tame ducks, but always roosting on an island by itself. It remains to be seen whether it will interbreed with its domestic companions.

Very few birds came under my immediate notice during the northward migration in the spring of this year. On March 1st I observed a large flock of Golden Plover, some of which were in summer plumage, on a fallow field in the neighbourhood; and on the 4th a number of wild geese, twenty-seven in all, were seen wending their way towards the East, evidently ignorant of the fact that by the operation of a recent Act of Parliament, which protects these migrants during the breeding season, they might have descended from their elevated position without much fear of molestation.

The rough cold weather that prevailed at the end of 1876 and the commencement of the present year brought in a number of sea birds which are not, as a rule, to be found in our channel. On December 28th a fine specimen of the Great Northern Diver, together with two immature Redthroats, were seen, and I regret to add killed close to the town, and on the 31st twelve wild geese appeared on Walney Island, though, as it chanced to be Sunday, they were allowed to pass on their way unharmed. On the 1st January the harbour was full of Ducks of various species, Gulls, Divers, Razorbills, and Gannets, though, owing to the prevalence of a strong easterly gale but few specimens were obtained. A fine Gannet, an old male, measuring six feet across the wings, was, however, procured by a friend, together with a male Scoter, large flocks of which have frequented Morecambe Bay throughout the winter. In the gizzard of the last-mentioned bird I found several whole cockles of considerable size, and numerous fragments of this and other mollusks. About this time a Red-breasted Merganser in immature plumage, was killed on the estuary of the Duddon, and brought to a local birdstuffer for preservation.

At the beginning of February, happening to be on Walney Island, I took the opportunity of calling upon the owner of a pair of Pallas's Sand Grouse, which were killed at the time of the notable irruption of this species in 1863. I was glad to find the specimens in good condition, though sadly spoiled in the stuffing. The history of their capture is interesting. The man who first saw them (the father of the present owner) came upon the flock of, I think, eight while out with his gun on the island, but had no ammunition with him beyond the two charges in his piece. He succeeded, however, in bringing down two, and at once ran home for more powder. On his return the rest of the birds were gone, and were not heard of again nearer than Lincolnshire, where some were killed on the following day.

The Walney farmers have been crying out this winter against the wholesale destruction of Short-eared Owls, which have visited the island in greater numbers than usual, and might be seen at any time of day hawking after the mice, which here abound, owing I presume to the absence of their natural enemies. The first flight appeared, with the Woodcocks, on October 28th, and throughout the following month numbers were killed almost daily. I doubt, in fact, whether one in a dozen lived to depart again in the spring. Long-eared Owls may also be seen every winter in Sowerby Wood, an extensive coppice to the north of Barrow-in-Furness. This wood is noted for its Woodcocks, and I may mention, as a fact which I have not hitherto seen noticed, except by a single writer in 'The Field,' that those which breed there annually depart with their young, about July; at least, I gather from those who are most likely to know that although old birds are tolerably plentiful, and young ones have been found in June, none are ever seen in August and September.

On the whole, what are known as rare birds have been extremely scarce during the past twelve months, the only one which has actually come under my observation being a specimen of Tengmalm's Owl, which was killed by a gamekeeper at Irton, in Cumberland, in October last.