Such a fact as this--and numberless facts just as significant allpointing to the same conclusion, might be adduced--shows at once howutterly erroneous is that occasionally-quoted dictum of Darwin's that birdspossess an instinctive or inherited fear of man. These moor-hens fearhim not at all; simply because in Hyde Park they are not shot at, androbbed of their eggs or young, nor in any way molested by him. They fearno living thing, except the irrepressible little hound that occasionallybursts into the enclosure, and hunts them with furious barkings to theirreedy little refuge. And as with these moor-hens, so it is with all ferociousbirds; they fear and fly from, and suspiciously watch from a safedistance, whatever molests them, and wherever man suspends his hostilitytowards them they quickly outgrow the suspicion which experience hastaught them, or which is traditional among them; for the young andinexperienced imitate the action of the adults they associate with, andlearn the suspicious habit from them.

It is also interesting and curious to note that a bird which inhabitstwo countries, in summer and winter, regulates his habits in accordancewith the degree of friendliness or hostility exhibited towards him bythe human inhabitants of the respective areas. The bird has in fact twotraditions with regard to man's attitude towards him--one for eachcountry. Thus, the field-fare is an exceedingly shy bird in England, butwhen he returns to the north if his breeding place is in some inhabiteddistrict in northern Sweden or Norway he loses all his ferociousness andbuilds his nest very close to the houses. My friend Trevor Battye saw apair busy making their nest in a small birch within a few yards of thefront door of a house he was staying at. "How strange," exclaimed he to theman of the house, "to look at field-fares making a nest in such a place!"