Half pint - did he make it?

It was time to try again. Half pint had barely stirred during the last nest visit a week ago. His older, bigger sibling was standing up, his developing wings outstretched and hissing at our ringer Justin as he edged up over the nest rim. Half pint lay almost motionless in the nest and was clearly in no state to be ringed or measured. His first few weeks of life had been a real struggle. He had probably food begged and stretched with gaping beak towards the adults arriving every few hours with fresh prey as much as he could manage.

But somehow, he kept losing out and now it showed. While the bigger chick was alert and mobile, Half pint seemed listless. We left him in peace and departed, pleased to have found one healthy chick but subdued that Half pint would probably not survive the week.

One week on. Justin untangled his ropes, fitted his climbing irons and began to ascend. On the ground we felt tense, our mood mirrored by the alarmed adults calling anxiously overhead. Despite the lively banter, we were privately nervous and willing there to be a positive outcome.

This was no easy tree to climb. Larch is notorious for its dead limbs and progress was slow as Justin made sure he was safe and tied on at every available opportunity. I began to hear the calls of just one chick, clearly the older one, alert and aggressive as it sensed something approaching from below. We all exchanged a glance, raised eyebrows and made that 'oh well, it was worth a check' type of face and got back to concentrating on Justin's safety.

Even the adults had more or less given up and drifted off a short distance to perch nearby to await our departure. The wood seemed strangely quiet and now even the cries from the nest had fallen silent. Justin tied himself on for the final time before getting a good look into the nest. We were desperate to know what he could see but dare not rush him at this critical moment.

As he got himself secure, I stared at the ground. Bits of old prey lay round about. White gull feathers fluttered in the grass and bracken. A fulmar wing was caught in the bramble. As the wind dropped, the midges emerged and went to work. At ground level we were enveloped in the cloud of biting mini-monsters. At tree top level, the breeze just about kept them at bay. Justin eased himself up and onto the edge of the nest. We awaited his proclamation...

"Well well, haven't you grown?" we heard him say."What's that? we enquired urgently. "One or two?". A long pause. Silence. "One or two?" we tried again. "Two!" came the answer. Half pint had made it. Not only that but he'd piled on the weight and had almost doubled in size! He was winning through. He may still be smaller than his nest mate but his chances of fledging are now excellent. He was feistier too. He was quickly ringed and measured. Justin abseiled down alot faster than he'd gone up and we left behind in the nest another slab of halibut generously donated from Bill's fish place.

This time we vacated the wood with broad smiles and a sense of relief that all the accessible chicks had now been successfully ringed and that they were all in pretty good shape. As we glanced back towards the nest, there were both chicks sitting up defiantly with a 'don't mess with us' look. Very brave they were too. Just an hour later I watched one of the adults swoop down over the sea and grab a gull with great agility and head straight back towards the nest. Half pint would certainly be dining in style tonight.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

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