Hatched in a neat nest of bents and dry grass lined with finer materials and placed on the ground in the middle of an open field, the youthful Lark has early to contend with enemies. Mice and other ground vermin, or the heavy foot of some grazing cattle, frequently destroy the nest and its contents, and the fact that so many escape must be largely ascribed to good luck. His food is of a very varied nature and nothing comes amiss. The young are fed exclusively on insects, but after leaving the nest they spend their time eagerly feeding on seeds, berries, or anything that comes their way. As summer wanes, giving place to autumn, they collect in large flocks and seek the stubble fields, where the scattered grain gives them abundant nourishment, and on which they become very fat. It is at such times, while they are asleep by night, that they are netted by hundreds for the market. This form of catching can, however, only be successfully carried out shortly after dark on the blackest of nights, for, like all wild animals, they seem to rest with one eye open, and should there be the faintest glimmer of light they will be up and away long before the bird-catcher is near them. In October they become restless, and many wander to the coast, and thence to other countries, their place being taken by the inhabitants of more northerly climates. So the months pass, until a northerly gale and severe frost moves even these hardy northerners, and at such times they may be seen migrating in millions (for they travel almost entirely by day), relentlessly pursuing a southerly course in front of the biting norther. With a change of wind and temperature a large number will drift back again, but the movement will not be so noticeable, and thus they pass their lives, wandering wherever the weather and food may dictate, till in the very early days of spring, or even on fine days throughout the winter, we may hear their voluble song, breathing as it does the joy of freedom in every note. This is almost always uttered on the wing. Springing from the ground with rapid, fluttering wings, he rises perpendicularly higher and higher till he is almost lost to sight in the clouds, though his song still drifts down to us with unaffected clearness; higher and higher he goes, and then in a spiral curve he slowly descends, the song ceasing as he reaches a spot within a few feet of where he rose. Nest-building is begun in April, and several broods are reared in a season, the song being continued except when he is actually feeding young in the nest.