Page:The Zoologist, 3rd series, vol 1 (1877).djvu/261

Rh been devoured by its fellows. A pair of Sparrowhawks build every year in the plantations about Moyview, and invariably construct a fresh nest each season, neither repairing their old nests nor those of Magpies or other birds, and I remarked the same habit with the Sparrowhawks building in the finely timbered demesnes of Coolmore and Ballybricken, in the County Cork. Those nests that I discovered before the females began to sit had a well-formed cup-shaped cavity in the centre, with nicely rounded edges; but after the young were hatched the edges got flattened out, and by the time they were fledged the nest had become a loose, slovenly-looking platform, exactly like the ruins of an old deserted nest of Crow or Magpie.

Buzzard, Buteo vulgaris.—Rare in this district, and has only twice come under my notice, at Moyview, flying about the plantations. During the past winter, however, I saw a fine bird of this species on the sands near Bartragh, and again on the Enniscrone sand-hills, beating about over the rabbit-burrows. This bird I have every reason to think must have been the one that was afterwards killed by some boys at night in a plantation at Scurmore; as they were bird-catching with a light they met the bird roosting on a low tree, and fancied it was a young Eagle.

Marsh Harrier, Circus æruginosus.—I cannot with certainty say I have met with this bird, but when snipe-shooting I have occasionally seen birds which may have been of this species.

Hen Harrier, Circus cyaneus.—Rare in this part of the country. I have only seen one old male. It is known to sportsmen about here as the "Sea-gull Hawk," from its colour.

Long-eared Owl, Strix otus.—Common and resident in the wooded districts. A pair rear their young in some old deserted nest (generally a Magpie's) in the plantations here every season, and I have on several occasions sent young birds to the Dublin Zoological Gardens. During the breeding season the males may be heard nearly every evening amongst the trees uttering their very peculiar call-notes, which, when heard at night proceeding from gloomy woods, gives one the idea of some unfortunate person moaning in the extremity of distress. It may be imitated by the words "hoo—hoo—hoo" repeated very slowly; the h quite soft—almost a silent one. My attention was first directed to this moaning call of the owls in January, 1864, by some of the servants rushing into the sitting-room one evening, about eight o'clock, to say that some one was dying in the wood near the cattle-house,