ground, so that in walking it is not unusual to sink up to the knees; but if the penguin chance to be at home, she revenges herself upon the passenger who has destroyed her roof, by fastening upon his legs and biting him severely. The species are so numerous on most of the uninhabited islands of the South Seas, on both sides of Cape Horn, and the Cape of Good Hope, that Pyrard says, one cannot stir a foot without crushing their eggs or their young. Another species of these birds, called the Cape Penguin (Aptenodytes demersa, LATH.), smaller than the preceding, makes its nest among brambles, scraping in the sand and forming a hole, in which it lurks so closely that in passing along it is not readily perceived, though the traveller soon receives no very friendly notice to quit the premises, by the penguin biting his legs with her formidable bill. The Viscount de Inerhoënt informed Buffon that these birds nestle on the islets along the southern coasts of Africa; and what is remarkable, they were observed, in one instance, to prefer a raised knoll, though it was half a mile from the sea. a knowledge most probably acquired by the reiterated experience of having their nest-trees fired at when the young are fit to be made into pies. It is stated in some accounts of newly-discovered countries, that the birds were not at first frightened by the presentment of a fowling-piece, but soon became so after some experience of its effects. We also think it not unlikely that the crows acquire part of the skilful vigilance which they exhibit as sentinels during the building of their nests, when one of a pair usually watches the nest while the other makes excursions to procure materials*. Our observations by no means bear out what is recorded of rooks being so determined to keep their associates together, that "if a pair offer to build on a separate tree, the nest is plundered and demolished at once t." On the contrary, we do not recollect ever observing a rookery without seeing one or more nests on detached trees, sometimes at some little distance from the main establishment. In the rookery at Lee there were, in the summer of 1831, two such nests, each on a detached tree, which, we are certain, were not molested during the season. The sentinels of gregarious birds were observed by the ancients, and legends told of them no less exaggerated than those of our modern crow-courts. The crane, in this respect, the most celebrated bird among the ancients, was placed, by Aristotle, at the head of gregarious birds §; and Festus, the grammarian, is of opinion that the words congruous and similar derivatives are from Grues, the Latin name (Grus) of the cranell. "The cranes," says Aristotle, Bingley, Anim. Biog. ii. 240. * J. R. J. R. "Congruere," says Festus, "quasi ut grues conveniere."De Significatione Verborum, ex Verio Flacco. as we may translate the passage, "have a leader, as well as sentinels placed in their rear rank, so that their alarm-call may be heard *." Pliny gives a still more minute detail of their proceedings. Speaking of their migration, he says, "They put not themselves in their journey, nor set forward without a counsel called before, and a general consent. They flie aloft, because they would have a better prospect to see before them; and for this purpose a captain they chuse to guide them, whom the rest follow In the rereward behind, there be certain of them Hist, Anim. ix. 10. eighteen inches above the surface of the soil. The entrance is placed either at the top or on the side, and the whole mound is beaten down externally, especially at the summit, resembling a much-used footpath. From the entrance, the passage into the mound descends vertically for one or two feet, and is thence continued obliquely downwards until it terminates in an apartment, within which the industrious marmot constructs, on the approach of the cold season, the comfortable cell for his winter's sleep. This eell, which is composed of fine dry grass, is globular in form, with an opening at top capable of admitting the finger; and the whole is so firmly compacted, that it might, without injury, be rolled over the floor. It is delightful, during the fine weather, to see these lively little creatures sporting about the entrance of their burrows, which are always kept in the neatest repair, and are often inhabited by several individuals. When alarmed, they instantly take refuge in their subterranean chambers; or if the dreaded danger be not immediately impending, they stand near the brink of the entrance, bravely barking and flourishing their tails, or else sit erect to reconnoitre the movements of the enemy. The mounds thrown up by the marmot, in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains, have an appearance of greater antiquity than those observed on the far-distant plains. They sometimes extend to several yards in diameter, although their elevation is trifling, and, except immediately surrounding the entrance, are clothed with a scanty herbage, which always distinguishes the area of these villages. Sometimes several villages have been ob❤ served almost entirely destitute of vegetation; and recollecting that the marmot feeds exclusively on grasses and herbaceous plants, it seems singular that this animal should always choose the most barren league's distance from each other. There is one in the flock who is looked upon and acknowledged as master, or king. His voice is louder than the others, and well-known, and is their signal for congregating. The peasants name him the caller, and pretend to distinguish him by his notes being longer than those of the rest. At his rising he utters a cry resembling The bien huit. The peasants on the frontiers, who go in bands, assemble in the evening, where they have heard the king plover, and where they may find him at dawn; and having set out before day, some here and some there, scattering themselves about over the corn lands, they wait till day-break, and when they hear the whistle of the king, which may be heard at a league's distance, calling his company together, they make straight towards him, being certain that the whole covey will repair to the same place. The plover is not so early a bird as the partridge, the lark, or the lapwing; but rises soon after dawn. And when the plovers of the flock have heard the notes of their caller they immediately hasten to him. If by chance, also, two flocks are upon the plain, and mixed together, the plovers will distinguish the cries of their king and make towards him. When day appears the peasants assemble, and report to each other what they have heard, and resolve what they shall do. Then the company depart, marching in battle array and keeping the same road. But when they approach the spot where the plovers are encamped, they spread into an arch or crescent, and as they advance attentively look before them to ascertain all they can of the covey which is around its caller. Each peasant carries a long pole, and one or two among them bear the harnois,' or net, to take the plovers, which they have observed in the level plain. And the peasants knowing that plovers are exceedingly timid, stretch the net as near them as they · |