The skylark.—At the first glance, it is obvious that the skylark (Fig. 204) is adapted for a life spent largely upon the ground. The large toes lie flat on the earth, and the long claw of the hind toe is plainly not very suitable for grasping the twigs of trees in the act of perching. In fact, the skylark only occasionally perches, on low [Pg 317] bushes. Walking or running on the ground, it lives upon grubs, caterpillars, flies, worms, etc., and also upon seeds, which its strong beak enables it to extract from the husks. The body is brown, the wings being streaked with black, and the dull-white throat and breast being marked with brown spots—a colouration which is a considerable protection. The nest is built in March, in a hollow or rut on the ground; it is lined with dry grass. The four or five eggs are greenish-grey, and spotted with brown. Whilst the hen sits upon her eggs (Fig. 205) the cock-bird either hunts for food or sings his delightful song as he soars in the air. The wonderful powers of soaring of this bird have already (p. 278) been referred to. When the lark drops to the ground he alights at a little distance from the nest, and then runs up to it through the grass. By this device he avoids revealing the position of his mate and young. Fig. 205.—Skylark at Home. [Pg 318] Skylarks rarely sing in the depth of winter; in autumn they form large flocks which patrol the fields until spring in search for food—rendering incalculable services to mankind by the destruction of insect-larvae. During the coldest weather of winter the birds crouch under banks and hedges. The rook.—The rook (Fig. 206)—often called the crow—is a rather large bird, measuring about 17 inches from head to tail. Its plumage is black, but as it becomes adult the feathers covering the face and nostrils are shed, leaving the skin of these parts bare. The bird has long and pointed wings, and is a strong flier. The bill is stout and almost straight. Rooks are no songsters, their harsh “caw” being destitute of musical qualities. When heard at a distance, however, the cry “becomes a confused noise or chiding; or rather a pleasing murmur, very engaging to the imagination, and not unlike the cry of a pack of hounds in hollow, echoing woods, or the rushing of the wind in tall trees, or the tumbling of the tide upon a pebbly shore.”[23] Fig. 206.—The Rook. (× ¹ ₁₀.)