Page:Bird Haunts and Nature Memories - Thomas Coward (Warne, 1922).pdf/95

Rh wild carrot was still out; probably some were survivals from the autumn, and had been flowering all winter.

Along the Dowlands Landslip, where the whole cliff has moved towards the sea, the laugh of the green woodpecker resounded again and again. Ancient timbers have suffered from root disturbance, and decay having once set in the insect hordes have hastened to assist in disintegration; the woodpeckers have come to aid the trees, smashing the softened wood with iron bill and dragging out the larvæ of the wood-boring Rhagium, of clearwing, goat or wood leopard. The goldcrest, a common resident as well as winter visitor, was singing its simple song, and nomadic flocks searched for tiny insects amongst the opening buds.

One inhabitant of the Landslip had much in common with the signs of devastation, the deep gashes in the soil, the bent and fallen trees, the great folds of slithering earth; the carrion crow, perched on some tottering tree, uttered his sinister treble croak. The rook has no fixed limit to the number of successive caws, the jackdaw is garrulous, but both carrion and grey crow usually pause after every third call.

Ring-doves abound on the Landslip, and doubtless some of the birds which cooed incessantly had decided upon nesting quarters; but elsewhere in the county crowds of pigeons, mostly foreigners, roamed far and wide, laying waste the land. Desperate farmers arranged combined attacks on the birds at roosting time; the Board of Agriculture gave advice; many fell, but many more survived to retire a month later towards our eastern seaboard en route for northern lands.

At Watcombe ravens were paired and busy; their deep glog was as distinctive as their deliberate and powerful flight. Every day a bird mounted guard, looking