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автор C.A. Johns

Transcriber's Note

The Table of Contents is added to facilitate the search for a particular bird or group of birds.

Table of Contents

 

Systematic

Page

   

Details

Page

SYSTEMATIC ARRANGEMENT

OF THE GENERA OF BIRDS

v  

—

ORDER PASSERES

v   1

ORDER PICARIÆ

xiii   123

ORDER STRIGES

xv   142

ORDER ACCIPITRES

xv   147

ORDER STEGANOPODES

xviii   165

ORDER HERODIONES

xvii   170

ORDER ANSERES

xviii   176

ORDER COLUMBÆ

xix   203

ORDER PTEROCLETES

xx   211

ORDER GALLINÆ

xx   212

ORDER FULICARIÆ

xx   228

ORDER ALECTORIDES

xxi   234

ORDER LIMICOLÆ

xxi   238

ORDER GAVIÆ

xxiii   275

ORDER PYGOPODES

xxiv   291

ORDER TUBINARES

xxv   304

BRITISH BIRDS IN

THEIR HAUNTS

By the late

REV. C. A. JOHNS, F.L.S.

Author of Flowers of the Field

Edited, Revised, and Annotated by

J. A. OWEN

Author of Birds in their Seasons, etc.

Collaborator in all Books by a 'Son of the Marshes'

Illustrated with 64 Coloured Plates (256 Figures) by

WILLIAM FOSTER, M.B.O.U.

WITH A GLOSSARY OF COMMON AND PROVINCIAL NAMES AND

OF TECHNICAL TERMS

TWELFTH EDITION

LONDON

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, LIMITED

NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.

UNIFORM WITH THIS WORK.

Each with a series of Coloured Plates and Text-illustrations.

FLOWERS OF THE FIELD. By

C. A. Johns

, F.L.S., revised by

Clarence Elliott

.

BRITISH BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS. By

Dr.

W. E. Kirby

.

BRITISH FERNS AND THEIR ALLIES. By

C. T. Druery

.

BRITISH FUNGI. By

George Massee

, of

Kew Gardens.

BRITISH TREES AND SHRUBS. By

C. A. Johns

. Edited by

E. T. Cook

.

ILLUSTRATED NATURAL HISTORY OF

THE WORLD. By

Ernest Protheroe

,

F.Z.S.

ALPINE PLANTS OF EUROPE. By

H. S. Thompson

. With 64 coloured plates.

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, LTD.

John's Birds, edited by Owen.

First Edition, February, 1909; Reprinted, July, 1910; Reprinted, December, 1915; Reprinted, November, 1917; Reprinted, June, 1919; Reprinted, January, 1921; Reprinted, October, 1922; Reprinted, March, 1925; Reprinted, August, 1928; Reprinted, December, 1931; Reprinted, January, 1935; Reprinted, January, 1938.

Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London

EDITOR'S PREFACE

This admirable work by the late Rev. C. A. Johns, F.L.S., which is now offered in a new form, has already proved the making of many a naturalist and it will be a delight and help to many more nature lovers who wish to determine a species without recourse to bulky scientific works.

In editing the present edition I have carefully preserved all Mr. Johns' delightful personal stories and his descriptions of the birds and their daily life in their haunts, but I have brought the scientific arrangement of the species up to date, as well as altered the nomenclature, in accordance with present-day knowledge and use.

We begin with the Passeres because modern ornithologists are now nearly all agreed that this order attains the highest Avian development.

I have rectified statements as to the local distribution of various species which, with the progress of time and local changes, no longer apply, and have added facts here and there which I considered of some value.

The faithful and beautiful presentments made by Mr. William Foster for this new edition have no need of our commendation to the public.

J. A. OWEN.

SYSTEMATIC ARRANGEMENT OF THE GENERA OF BIRDS

(Numbered in accordance with the Plates and Descriptions in this Volume.)

ORDER PASSERES

(PERCHING BIRDS)

Bill various; feet adapted for perching on trees or on the ground (not for grasping, wading, or swimming); toes four, all in the same plane, three before and one behind; claws slender, curved, and acute. Food, various; that of the nestlings, perhaps in all instances, soft insects.

FAMILY TURDIDÆ

(Thrushes)

Bill as long as the head, compressed at the sides; upper mandible arched to the tip, which is not abruptly hooked, notch well marked, but not accompanied by a tooth; gape furnished with bristles; feet long, with curved claws. Food—insects, snails and fruits.

SUB-FAMILY TURDIDÆ

Young in first plumage differ from adults in having the upper and under parts spotted.

Genus 1. Turdus (Thrush, Blackbird, etc.) Bill moderate, compressed at the point; upper mandible notched, bending over the lower one; gape furnished with a few bristles; nostrils basal, lateral, oval, partly covered by a naked membrane; tarsus longer than the middle toe; wings and tail moderate; first primary very short or almost abortive, second shorter than the third or fourth, which are the longest.

Page 1

2. Saxícola (Wheatear). Bill straight, slender, the base rather broader than high, advancing on the forehead, compressed towards the point; upper mandible keeled, curved, and notched; gape surrounded by a few bristles; nostrils basal, lateral, oval, half closed by a membrane; first primary half as long as the second, which is shorter than the third, third and fourth longest; tarsus rather long; claw of the hind toe short, strong and curved.

Page 10

3. Pratíncola (Chats). Bill shorter and broader than in Saxicola; bristles at the gape strongly developed. Wings and tail rather short.

Page 12

4. Ruticilla (Redstarts). Bill slender, compressed towards the point, a little deflected and very slightly emarginate; gape with tolerably large bristles. Nostrils basal, supernal, and nearly round. Wings moderate; the first quill short; the second equal to the sixth; the third, fourth and fifth, nearly equal, and one of them the longest. Legs slender, the tarsus longer than the middle toe, and covered in front by a single scale and three inferior scutellæ.

Page 14

5. Eríthacus (Redbreast). Bill rather strong, as broad as it is high at the base, where it is depressed, slightly compressed towards the tip; upper mandible bending over the lower and notched, nostrils basal, oval, pierced in a membrane, partly hid by bristles diverging from the gape; first primary half as long as the second, fifth the longest; tail slightly forked.

Page 16

6. Daulias (Nightingale). Bill rather stout, straight, as broad as high at the base; upper mandible slightly bent over at the tip; gape with a few short bristles; nostrils basal, round, pierced in a membrane; first primary very short, second and fifth equal in length, third and fourth longest; tail somewhat rounded; tarsus elongated.

Page 17

SUB-FAMILY ACCENTORINÆ

Bill strong and broad at base; upper mandible overlapping lower and slightly notched at tip.

7. Accentor (Hedge-sparrow). Bill of moderate length, strong, straight, tapering to a fine point; edges of both mandibles compressed and bent inwards, the upper notched near the tip; nostrils naked, basal, pierced in a large membrane; feet strong; claw of the hinder toe longest, and most curved; first primary almost obsolete, the second nearly equal to the third, which is the longest.

Page 20

SUB-FAMILY SYLVIINÆ

Young on leaving nest differ slightly in colour from adults.

8. Sylvia (Whitethroats, Blackcap, Warblers). Bill rather stout, short, not very broad at base; upper mandible decurved towards point, which is slightly emarginate; nostrils basal, lateral, oval, and exposed; gape with bristles. Wings moderate, first quill very short. Tail with twelve feathers, generally rounded. Tarsus scutellate in front and longer than middle toe; toes and claws short.

Page 21

9. Acrocéphalus (Reed, Marsh, Sedge, and Aquatic Warblers). Bill nearly straight, with culmen elevated, wide at base, compressed towards tip, and slightly emarginate; edges of lower mandible inflected; nostrils basal, oblique, oval, and exposed; moderately developed bristles at gape. Forehead narrow, depressed. Wings rather short, first quill minute, third usually longest. Tail rounded, rather long. Legs long; feet large and stout, hind toe strong; claws long and moderately curved.

Page 25

10. Locustella (Grasshopper Warbler). Differs from other Sylviinæ chiefly in its more rounded tail and longer under tail-coverts. The late Professor Newton found the tendons of the tibial muscles strongly ossified in this genus.

Page 28

11. Phyllóscopus (Chiff-chaff, Willow and Wood-warblers). Bill slender, rather short; upper mandible decurved from middle and compressed towards tip, which is very slightly notched; nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, partly operculate, membrane clothed with small bristle-tipped feathers, internasal ridge very thin; gape beset with hairs. Wings rather long, first quill comparatively large, third or fourth longest. Tail slightly forked, twelve feathers. Tarsus scaled in front, rather long. Toes long, claws curved.

Page 30

SUB-FAMILY REGULINÆ

Arboreal. Each nostril covered by a single stiff feather.

12. Régulus (Gold and Fire-crested Wrens). Bill very slender, awl-shaped, straight, compressed; cutting edges bent inwards about the middle; nostrils partly concealed by small bristly feathers, directed forwards; first primary very short, second much shorter than the third, fourth and fifth longest; tail moderate; tarsus slender, rather long.

Page 33

FAMILY PARIDÆ

(Tits)

Bill short, straight, conical, sharp-pointed, destitute of a notch; nostrils basal, concealed by reflected bristly hairs. Small birds, remarkable for their activity, not highly gifted with musical power, constantly flitting and climbing about trees and bushes, which they examine for small insects, suspending themselves in all attitudes, feeding also on grains and fruits, and not sparing small birds when they are able to overpower them.

13. Acrédula (Long-tailed Tit). Bill much compressed, both mandibles curved, upper considerably longer than lower. Eyelids with wide bare margins. Length of wing quills increases to fourth and fifth, which are longest. Tail very long, narrow, graduated, outer feathers one-third length of middle pair. Tarsus long, feet moderate.

Page 35

14. Parus (Great, Blue, Cole, Marsh, and Crested Tits). Bill slightly compressed, upper mandible hardly longer than lower. First wing quill short, fourth or fifth longest. Tail moderate, even or slightly rounded. Tarsus moderate, feet strong.

Page 37

FAMILY PANURIDÆ

(Reedlings)

15. Panúrus (Bearded Tit or Reedling). Bill short, subconical; upper mandible curved at tip and bending over lower one, which is nearly straight; the edges of both somewhat inflected and not notched. Nostrils basal, oval, pointed in front and partly covered by reflected bristly feathers. Wing with ten quills, first almost obsolete, third longest, fourth and fifth nearly equal to it. Tail very long and, much graduated. Tarsus long and scutellate in front; feet stout; claws not much hooked.

Page 42

FAMILY SITTIDÆ

(Nuthatches)

16. Sitta (Nuthatch). Bill moderate, strong, and slightly conical; lower mandible ascending from angle to point. Tongue short, horny tip abrupt and furnished with strong bristles. Nostrils basal, rounded, in deep hollow, covered by short feathers and hairs. Wings rather long; first quill much shorter than second, fourth or fifth longest. Tail short, flexible, broad, nearly square. Legs short, stout, tarsi scutellate; toes long, strong, hind toe especially, outer toe joined at base to middle toe; claws large, much hooked.

Page 44

FAMILY CERTHIIDÆ

(Creepers)

Bill either straight and subulate or slender, long, and curved; nostrils basal; tail never emarginate; fourth toe coalesced at first phalanx with middle toe. Principally insectivorous.

17. Certhia (Creeper). Bill rather long, slender, compressed, decurved, pointed; nostrils basal, lateral, elongate, partly covered by membrane. Wings moderate, rounded, first feather short, fourth and fifth longest. Tail of twelve feathers, long, stiff, pointed, slightly decurved. Feet large, tarsus slender; fore toes long, united at base as far as first joint; claws moderate, but much curved; hind toe short, but with long curved claw. Plumage soft and thick, especially above.

Page 47

FAMILY TROGLODYTIDÆ

18. Tróglodytes (Wren). Bill moderate, compressed, slightly curved, not notched, pointed. Nostrils basal, oval, partly covered by membrane. Wings short, concave, rounded; first quill rather short, fourth or fifth longest. Tail generally short; its feathers soft and rounded. Tarsus rather long and strong, middle toe united at base to outer but not to inner toe; hind toe as long or longer than middle toe; claws long, stout and curved. Plumage long and soft.

Page 48

FAMILY CINCLIDÆ

19. Cinclus (Dipper). Bill moderate, slightly ascending, angular, higher than broad at base, straight, compressed, and rounded near tip; upper mandible slightly decurving at point. Nostrils basal, lateral; in depression, cleft longitudinally, partly covered by membrane. Gape very narrow, without bristles. Wings short, broad, convex; first quill very short, second not so long as third or fourth, which are nearly equal. Tail short. Legs feathered to tibio-tarsal joint; tarsus longer than middle toe; lateral toes equal in length, outer toe slightly connected with middle. Whole body closely covered with down.

Page 51

FAMILY ORIOLIDÆ

Bill with notch in upper mandible; nostrils placed well in front of base of bill and quite bare.

20. Oriólus (Oriole). Bill an elongated cone, depressed at the base; upper mandible keeled above, notched near the point, bending over the lower one; nostrils basal, lateral, naked, pierced horizontally in a large membrane; tarsus not longer than the middle toe; wings moderate; first primary very short, second shorter than the third, which is the longest.

Page 53

FAMILY STURNIDÆ

(Starlings)

Bill nearly straight, short at the base, diminishing regularly to a sharp point, which is not distinctly notched; the ridge of the upper mandible; ascends upon the forehead, dividing the plumage of that part; nostrils placed low in the bill; planta tarsi entire; wings moderate, not reaching to end of tail. An extensive and widely diffused family, comprising species for the most part above the average size of Passerine birds, yet inferior to the Crows. They are in general social, feeding much on the ground; their legs and feet are robust, their gait stately, their plumage, though commonly of dark colours, is lustrous, with reflections of steel-blue, purple, or green.

21. Sturnus (Starling). Bill straight, forming an elongated cone, depressed broad at the base, bluntish; upper mandible broader than the lower; nostrils at the base of the bill, partly closed by an arched membrane; first primary very short, second longest.

Page 54

22. Pastor (Rose-coloured Starling). Bill slightly arched, forming an elongated cone, compressed; nostrils at the base of the bill partly covered by a feathery membrane; wings with the first primary very short, second and third longest.

Page 56

FAMILY CORVIDÆ

(Crows)

Bill powerful, more or less compressed at the sides; upper mandible more or less arched to the point without distinct notch; gape nearly straight; nostrils concealed by stiff bristles. Hallux very strong, but with its claw not as long as the middle toe and claw. Birds of firm and compact structure; their wings long, pointed, and powerful; their feet and claws robust. In disposition bold and daring, extremely sagacious, easily tamed and made familiar. Most of them have the power of imitating various sounds, but their natural voices are harsh. They evince a remarkable propensity for thieving and hiding brilliant and gaudy substances. In appetite they are omnivorous.

23. Pyrrhócorax (Chough). Bill longer than the head, rather slender, arched from the base, and pointed; nostrils oval; feet strong, tarsus longer than the middle toe; wings rounded, first primary short, fourth and fifth the longest; tail even at the end.

Page 56

24. Nucífraga (Nutcracker). Bill about as long as the head, straight, conical, the base dilated, and dividing the feathers of the forehead; mandibles blunt, the upper somewhat the longer; nostrils round; wings rather long and pointed; first primary shorter than the second and third, fourth longest; tail nearly even.

Page 57

25. Gárrulus (Jay). Bill shorter than the head, conical; both mandibles equally curved, the upper notched near the tip; crown feathers forming a crest; wings rounded, fourth, fifth, and sixth primaries nearly equal, and the longest; tarsus longer than the middle toe; tail moderate, slightly rounded.

Page 58

26. Pica (Magpie). Bill, nostrils, and feet as in Corvus; wings short and rounded; tail long, graduated.

Page 59

27. Corvus (Raven, Crows, Rook). Bill not longer than the head, strong, straight at the base, cutting at the edges, and curved towards the point; nostrils oval; feet strong, tarsus longer than the middle toe; wings pointed, first primary moderate, second and third shorter than the fourth, which is the longest; tail moderate, rounded.

Page 61

FAMILY LANIIDÆ

(Shrikes)

Bill strong, arched, and hooked, the upper mandible strongly notched after the manner of the Falconidæ; claws adapted for capturing insects and even small birds. Sylvan. Young barred below.

28. Lánius (Shrike, or Butcher Bird). Bill short, flattened vertically (compressed) at the sides; gape furnished with bristly feathers directed forwards; wings with the first three primaries graduated, the third and fourth being the longest.

Page 73

FAMILY AMPELIDÆ

(Chatterers)

Bill stoat, approaching, especially in the form of the lower mandible, to that of the Corvidæ; the upper mandible is however somewhat broad at the base, flat, with the upper edge more or less angular and ridged, and the tip distinctly notched. Feet usually stout, with the outer toe united to the middle one as far as, or beyond, the first joint. They feed principally on berries and other soft fruits, occasionally also on insects.

29. Ámpelis (Waxwing). Bill as above; nostrils oval, concealed by small feathers directed forwards; wings long and pointed; first and second primaries longest, some of the secondaries and tertials terminating in wax-like prolongations of their shafts.

Page 76

FAMILY MUSCICAPIDÆ

(Flycatchers)

Bill broad, flattened horizontally (depressed), slightly toothed and adapted for catching small flying insects; nostrils more or less covered by bristly hairs; feet generally feeble.

30. Muscícapa (Flycatcher). Bill moderate, somewhat triangular, depressed at the base, compressed towards the tip, which is slightly curved downwards; gape armed with stiff bristles; tarsus equal to or longer than the middle toe; side toes of equal length; wings with the first primary very short, and the third and fourth longest.

Page 77

FAMILY HIRUNDINIDÆ

(Swallows and Martins)

Beak short but broad, and more or less flattened horizontally; mouth very deeply cleft; feet small and weak; wings with nine visible primaries, long and powerful, and thus adapted for sustaining a protracted flight in pursuit of winged insects, which form the sole sustenance of these birds; tail long and usually forked; plumage close, smooth, often burnished with a metallic gloss. Migratory birds, spending the summer in temperate climates, but being impatient of cold, withdrawing in winter to equatorial regions.

31. Hirundo (Swallow). Bill short, depressed, very wide at base, commissure straight. Nostrils basal, oval, partly closed by membrane. Tail deeply forked, of twelve feathers, the outermost greatly elongated and abruptly attenuated. Legs and feet slender and bare; toes rather long, three in front, one behind; claws moderate.

Page 80

32. Chelídon (Martin). Bill short, depressed, very wide at base, commissure slightly decurved. Nostrils basal, oval, partly closed by membrane and opening laterally. Tail forked, of twelve feathers, outermost not abruptly attenuated. Legs and feet slender, closely feathered above; toes rather long, three in front, one behind; claws moderate, sharp.

Page 83

33. Cótile (Sand-martin). Bill short, depressed, very wide at base, commissure straight. Nostrils, wings and tail as in Chelidon. Legs and feet slender, and bare except for tuft of feathers on tarsus just above hallux; toes moderate, three in front, one behind; claws strong.

Page 84

FAMILY FRINGILLIDÆ

(Finches)

Remarkable for the shortness, thickness, and powerful structure of the bill; the upper and lower mandibles are usually equally thick, and their height and breadth are nearly alike, so that the bill when closed presents the appearance of a short cone, divided in the middle by the gape. By its aid they break open the hard woody capsules and fruit-stones containing the seeds and kernels which form their chief food. At nesting-time many species live on insect larvæ, with which the young are almost exclusively fed. The wings have nine visible primaries. This family is one of immense extent, consisting of relatively small birds.

34. Ligurinus (Greenfinch). Bill compressed towards tip, with scarcely perceptible notch at point; nostrils basal, concealed by stiff feathers directed forwards; wings rather pointed, first quill obsolete, second, third and fourth nearly equal and longest. Tail rather short, slightly forked. Tarsus scutellate in front; toes moderate; claws arched and laterally grooved.

Page 86

35. Coccothraustes (Hawfinch). Bill tapering rapidly to point, culmen rounded; mandibles nearly equal, edges inflected and slightly indented. Nostrils basal, lateral, oval, nearly hidden by projecting and recurved frontal plumes. Wings with first quill obsolete, third and fourth primaries nearly equal, sixth, seventh, and eighth curved outwards. Tail short, and nearly square. Tarsus scutellate in front, covered at sides with single plate, stout and short; claws moderately curved, rather short and strong.

Page 87

36. Carduêlis (Goldfinch and Siskin). Bill a rather elongated cone, compressed at the tip, and finely pointed; wings long, pointed; first three primaries nearly equal and the longest; tail slightly forked

Page 88

37. Passer (Sparrows). Bill somewhat arched above; lower mandible rather smaller than the upper; first three primaries longest.

Page 92

38. Fringilla (Chaffinch and Brambling). Bill straight, sharp, pointed; mandibles nearly equal; first primary a little shorter than the second, much shorter than the third and fourth, which are nearly equal and the longest.

Page 95

39. Acanthis (Linnet, Redpolls, Twite). Bill a short straight cone, compressed at the tip; wings long, pointed; third primary somewhat shorter than the first and second, which are equal and the longest; tail forked.

Page 98

40. Pýrrhula (Bullfinch). Bill short and thick, the sides tumid; upper mandible much arched and bending over the lower one; first primary nearly equal to the fifth, second a little shorter than the third and fourth, which are the longest.

Page 101

41. Loxia (Crossbill). Bill thick at the base; both mandibles equally curved, hooked at the tips, and crossing each other at the points.

Page 103

42. Emberiza (Buntings, Yellow-hammer). Bill with upper mandible not wider than lower, edges of both inflected and those of latter gradually cut away (sinuated); the palate generally furnished with a hard bony knob; wings moderate, first primary obsolete, second, third and fourth nearly equal. Tail rather long and slightly forked. Claws considerably curved, that of hind toe of moderate length.

Page 106

43. Plectrophenax (Snow Bunting). Bill with upper mandible narrower than lower, otherwise as in Emberiza. Wings long and pointed, first primary obsolete, second and third nearly equal and longest in wing, fourth considerably longer than fifth. Tail moderate and slightly forked. Front claws rather long and curved; hind claw considerably curved and elongated.

Page 110

44. Calcarius (Lapland Bunting). Bill with considerably inflected cutting edges (tomia); claws of front toes short and slightly curved; hind claw nearly straight and elongated; other characters much as in Plectrophenax.

Page 111

FAMILY MOTACILLIDÆ

(Wagtails and Pipits)

Wings with nine visible primaries. Inner secondaries nearly as long as primaries.

45. Motacilla (Wagtail). Cutting edges of both mandibles slightly compressed inwards; nostrils basal, oval, partly concealed by a naked membrane; first primary acuminate and nearly obsolete, second and third nearly equal and longest; one of the scapulars as long as the quills; tail long, nearly even at the end; tarsus much longer than the middle toe.

Page 111

46. Anthus (Pipit). Bill and nostrils very much as in Motacilla; two of the scapulars as long as the closed wing; first primary acuminate and nearly obsolete, second shorter than the third and fourth, which are the longest; hind claw very long.

Page 116

FAMILY ALAUDIDÆ

(Larks)

Wings with nine or more visible primaries. Planta tarsi scutellate. Granivorous birds, frequenting open spaces, and singing during their flight; nesting on ground and seeking their food there by running; they are 'pulverators', i.e. they shake dust or sand into their feathers instead of bathing.

47. Alauda (Lark). Bill moderate, slightly compressed at edges; upper mandible more or less arched from middle. Nostrils basal, oval, covered by bristly feathers directed forward. Gape straight. Wings long; first primary short but unmistakably developed; second, third and fourth nearly equal, but third longest. Tail moderate, slightly forked. Tarsus longer than middle toe; claws slightly curved and moderate, except that of hind toe, which is generally elongate and nearly straight.

Page 119

48. Otócorys (Shore-lark). Bill rather short, subconic; upper mandible slightly arched. Head—in adult male—with tuft of long, erectile feathers on either side of occiput. Wings long; first primary so small as at first sight to seem wanting, second longest but third nearly its equal, fourth decidedly shorter, outer secondaries short and emarginate at tip. Tail rather long, slightly forked. Tarsus shorter than middle toe; claws moderate and very slightly curved, that of hind toe being comparatively straight.

Page 122

ORDER PICARIÆ

Opposed to the Passeres. The feet are relatively weaker and smaller.

FAMILY CYPSELIDÆ

(Swifts)

Tail of ten feathers (swallows have twelve). Gape very wide.

49. Cýpselus (Swift). Bill very short, flattened horizontally, triangular; upper mandible curved downwards at the point; gape extending beyond the eyes; legs very short; toes all directed forwards; wings extremely long; first primary a little shorter than the second.

Page 123

FAMILY CAPRIMULGIDÆ

(Goatsuckers)

The bill in this family resembles that of the Swallows, but is shorter and weaker; the gape is enormous and its sides are, for the most part, furnished with long and stiff bristles, which point forwards; the wings are long, and formed for powerful flight; the feet are small, and feathered to the toes; plumage soft and downy, and beautifully mottled with black, brown, grey, and white, varying in colour with the soil of their habitat; the claw of the middle toe is dilated on one side and toothed like a comb. Tail of ten feathers. Nocturnal birds, feeding on large insects, which they capture in their flight.

50. Caprimúlgus (Goatsucker or Nightjar). Bill very short, somewhat curved, broad and flattened at the base; upper mandible curved downwards at the tip; gape extending beyond the eyes, and armed with strong bristles; wings long; first primary shorter than the second, which is the longest.

Page 125

FAMILY PICIDÆ

(Woodpeckers)

Feet short, but of unusual strength; the rigid toes diverge from a centre, two pointing forwards, and two backwards; claws large, much curved, and very hard and sharp; breast-bone shallow; flight weak and undulating.

SUB-FAMILY PICINÆ

Tail feathers stiff and pointed: nostrils covered with bristles.

51. Dendrocopus (Spotted Woodpeckers). Bill about as long as the head, robust, straight, irregular, compressed, pyramidal, laterally bevelled at the tip; tongue long and extensile, the tip barbed; nostrils basal, oval, concealed by reflected bristly feathers; wings with the first primary very short, fourth and fifth longest; tail-feathers graduated, stiff and pointed. Fourth toe much longer than third. Prevailing colours of the plumage black and white, or black and red.

Page 127

52. Gécinus (Green Woodpecker). Bill hard, broad at base, compressed at tip; upper mandible slightly arched, ending abruptly with shallow groove on each side running parallel to and near the culmen, and longer than lower mandible, which is pointed and has the gonys nearer the tip than the base and the tomia rounded. The fourth toe equal to the third. Prevailing colour greenish, otherwise much as in Dendrocopus.

Page 129

SUB-FAMILY IŸNGINÆ

Nostrils partly covered by a membrane. Nostrils partly covered by a membrane.

53. Iÿnx (Wryneck). Bill shorter than the head, straight, conical; tongue long and extensile; nostrils without bristles, partly closed by a membrane; wings with the second primary somewhat the longest; tail-feathers soft and flexible.

Page 131

FAMILY ALCEDINIDÆ

(Kingfishers)

Bill long, stout, and pointed, with angular sides, not serrated; feet small and feeble, the outer and middle toes united to the last joint; wings rounded and hollow, ill adapted for protracted flight; form robust, with a large head and usually a short tail. Predatory birds, feeding on fish, insects, and even reptiles, birds, and small quadrupeds. Scattered over the world, but Australia and South America contain the greatest number of species.

54. Alcédo (Kingfisher). Bill long, straight, quadrangular, sharp; wings short with the third primary the longest; tail very short.

Page 132

FAMILY CORACIIDÆ

(Rollers)

Bill corvine in shape; culmen rounded; nostrils near base of upper mandible and hidden by bristly feathers; tail feathers twelve.

54. Corácias (Roller). Bill compressed, straight, with cutting edges; upper mandible slightly hooked at the point; sides of the gape bristled; tarsus short; wings long; first primary a little shorter than the second, which is the longest.

Page 134

FAMILY MEROPIDÆ

(Bee-eaters)

Bill long; culmen with sharply defined ridge; toes joined for part of length.

55. Mêrops (Bee-eater). Bill long, compressed, slightly curved, slender, with cutting edges, broad at the base; upper mandible keeled, the tip not hooked; tarsus very short; wings long, pointed, second primary the longest; centre tail feathers elongated.

Page 135

FAMILY UPUPIDÆ

(Hoopoes)

56. Upupa (Hoopoe). Bill longer than the head, slender, slightly arched, compressed; feathers of the head long, forming a two-ranked crest; tail even at the extremity.

Page 136

FAMILY CUCULIDÆ

(Cuckoos)

Bill moderate, rather deeply cleft, both mandibles compressed, and more or less curved downwards; nostrils exposed; wings for the most part short; tail of ten feathers lengthened; toes four, two pointing backwards and two forwards, but the outer hind toe of each foot is capable of being placed at right angles with either the inner or outer front toe. A tropical family of birds, many of which migrate to the temperate regions in summer. Not so decidedly climbers as the Woodpeckers and Creepers, yet having great power of clinging. Their flight is feeble, their food soft-bodied insects, varied in many cases with berries and other fruits, and some of the larger species will occasionally prey on mice, reptiles, and the eggs and young of birds. Most, perhaps all of the migratory species, lay their eggs in the nests of other birds.

57. Cúculus (Cuckoo). Bill shorter than the head, broad, depressed at the base, with the ridge curved and the sides compressed towards the tip, which is entire and acute; nostrils in a membranous groove, the opening rounded and exposed; wings pointed, third primary longest; tail long, graduated; tarsi very short, feathered below the heel.

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ORDER STRIGES

(OWLS)

Head large, feathered; eyes large, dilated and projecting, each surrounded by a concave disc formed of stiff diverging feathers, concealing the cere and nostrils; ears large, and of elaborate construction; plumage lax and downy, adapted for slow and quiet flight; outer toe reversible; tibia more than double the length of tarsus. Food, small quadrupeds, birds, and insects.

FAMILY STRIGIDÆ

SUB-FAMILY STRIGINÆ

Bill somewhat elongated, bending at the tip only; head-tufts wanting nostrils oval, oblique; facial disc large and complete; ears large, covered by an operculum; wings long, the second primary longest; tarsi long, feathered to the toes, which are strangely furnished with hair-like feathers; claws long, the middle one serrated beneath.

58. Strix (White Owl). Characters given above.

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SUB-FAMILY SYRNIINÆ

Bill bending from the base; tufts more or less conspicuous or wanting; facial disc complete; ears large, covered by an operculum; legs feathered to the claws.

59. Asio (Eared Owls). Nostrils oval, oblique; tufts more or less elongated; wings long, second primary the longest.

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60. Syrnium (Tawny Owl). Nostrils round; egrets wanting; wings short and rounded; fourth primary longest.

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ORDER ACCIPITRES

(EAGLES, HAWKS, ETC.)

Bill short, strong, stout at base, culmen strongly curved. Feet strong, armed with powerful talons which are capable of being bent under the feet, inner one stronger and more curved than others. Outer toe usually not reversible.

FAMILY FALCONIDÆ

Head covered with feathers, though sides of face are more or less bare.

SUB-FAMILY BUTEONINÆ

Bill rather small and weak, bending from the base; cutting edge of the upper mandible nearly straight, or but slightly festooned; cere large; nostrils oval; wings long; the first four feathers deeply notched on their inner webs; tail not forked. Hinder aspect of tarsus scutellate.

61. Circus (Harriers). Head surrounded by a circle of feathers; tarsi, long and slender, feathered a little below the joint; wings long third and fourth primaries the longest; tail long, somewhat rounded.

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62. Buteo (Buzzard). Lore without feathers; tarsi short and strong, naked or feathered; wings large, the fourth primary the longest.

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63. Pernis (Honey Buzzard). Lore with feathers; tarsi short and strong, naked or feathered; wings large, the fourth primary the longest.

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SUB-FAMILY AQUILINÆ

Bill stout, convex or slightly angular above, straight at the base, much hooked at the tip, commissure simply festooned; cere bristly; nostrils rounded or oval; wings long. Hinder aspect of tarsus reticulate.

64. Aquila (Eagles). Upper mandible with the cutting edge nearly straight; tarsi feathered to the toes; claws unequal, grooved beneath; wings with the fourth primary longest.

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65. Haliaëtus (Sea-eagle). Bill very long; edges of the upper mandible slightly prominent near the hook; tarsi half-feathered; claws unequal, grooved beneath; wings with the fourth primary longest; nostrils transverse, with bony margin all round.

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66. Pandíon (Osprey). Bill short, cutting edges of the upper mandible nearly straight; tarsi naked; outer toe reversible; claws equal, rounded beneath; wings with the second primary longest.

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SUB-FAMILY ACCIPITRINÆ

Long-legged Hawks

Bill short, strong, curved from the base; edge of the upper mandible with a prominent festoon beyond the middle; nostrils oval; wings rounded, short, reaching only to the middle of the tail; middle toe much the longest.

67. Accípiter (Sparrow-hawk). Tarsi long and slender; fourth and fifth primaries equal in length and the longest. Ridge of bill measured from margin of cere is less than half middle toe (without claw).

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SUB-FAMILY MILVINÆ

Bill of moderate length, slightly curved from the base, upper mandible with a slight festoon; nostrils oval, oblique; wings long; tail long and forked.

68. Milvus (Kites). Tarsi feathered a little below the knee; fourth primary the longest.

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SUB-FAMILY FALCONINÆ

Bill short, strong, curved from the base, upper mandible strongly toothed, lower notched; nostrils round; tarsi strong and short; hinder aspect reticulate; wings long and pointed, with the second primary longest, the first and third equal in length and having the inner web notched near the extremity.

69. Falco (Falcons, Merlin, Hobby and Kestrel). Characters given above.

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ORDER STEGANOPODES

Hind toe articulated on the inner surface of the tarsus, united to other toes by a web.

FAMILY PELECANIDÆ

Bill strong, edges of the mandibles minutely toothed; wings long; legs short; toes four, all connected by a membrane.

70. Phalacrócorax (Cormorant). Bill straight, longer than the head, compressed; upper mandible much hooked at the point; face and throat naked; inner edge of the middle claw serrated; tail rounded, rigid.

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71. Sula (Gannet). Bill straight, longer than the head, compressed, tapering to a point, which is but slightly curved; face and throat naked; inner edge of the middle claw serrated; tail graduated.

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ORDER HERODIONES

Hallux free, not united to other toes by a web.

FAMILY ARDEIDÆ

(Herons)

Hind toe on same plane as others. Bill rounded or ridged; notched, with no hook at end. Outer toe with broad basal web, obsolete at base of inner toe; middle claw pectinated, loral space bare; powder down patches present.

72. Árdea (Herons). Edges of mandibles distinctly serrated; head crested; nape feathers elongated and ornamented; plumes of fore-neck not disintegrated; no dorsal train.

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73. Nyctícorax (Night Heron). Bill scarcely longer than the head, much compressed; neck rather thick and short; crest of three very long tapering feathers. In other respects resembling Árdea.

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74. Botaurus (Bittern). Bill scarcely longer than the head, much compressed; neck thick, clothed in front with long and loose feathers. In other respects resembling Ardea.

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FAMILY CICONIIDÆ

(Storks)

Hind toe elevated above plane of others; no powder down patches; bill not hooked at tip.

75. Cicónia (Stork). Bill much longer than the head, stout, tapering to a point; nostrils near the base, pierced in the horny substance of the bill; tarsi very long; claws not pectinated; wings moderate, third, fourth, and fifth primaries longest.

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FAMILY PLATALEIDÆ

(Spoonbills)

Bill flattened, narrow in middle, and widening out into a spoon-shaped end.

76. Plataléa (Spoonbill). Head partly bare, auricular orifice covered with plumes. Nostrils elongated and in a shallow depression.

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ORDER ANSERES

Tarsus about length of femur, reticulate at back and generally in front. Bill straight, always with distinct nail at tip of upper mandible. Young covered with down, and able to run or swim in a few hours after hatching.

FAMILY ANATIDÆ

(Ducks, Geese, Swans, etc.)

Bill thick, broad, high at the base, covered with a thin membranous skin and ending in a nail-like horny tip; edges of the mandibles cut into thin parallel ridges, or toothed; wings moderate; legs placed not very far behind; feet, four-toed, palmated; hind toe free, placed high on the tarsus. Food, grass and aquatic weeds, worms, insects, molluscs, and small fish.

SUB-FAMILY ANSERINÆ

77. Anser (Geese). Bill nearly long as head, elevated and covered with cere or skin at base; conspicuous nail at tip; under mandible smaller than upper; nostrils lateral, near middle of bill; tail of sixteen feathers; legs under centre of body; hind toe free, articulated upon tarsus.

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78. Bernicla (Brent and Bernicle Geese). Bill shorter than head, higher than broad at base; culmen slightly convex, outline of lower mandible decidedly so, leaving elliptical space displaying lamellæ; nostrils sub-basal; neck feathers less furrowed than in Anser; tail short, rounded; tibia feathered to joint; hind toe short and elevated.

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79. Cygnus (Swans). Bill of equal length throughout, furnished with knob at base; nostrils medial; legs short; neck exceedingly long.

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SUB-FAMILY ANATIDÆ

Bill of equal width throughout, or broader at the top than at the base, of about the same width as the head; legs short, placed rather behind the middle of the body; hind toe without a pendent membrane; tarsi somewhat round.

80. Tadorna (Sheldrake). Bill with an elevated tubercle at the base, depressed in the middle; nostrils large, pervious; lower portion of tarsus in front with a row of transverse scutellæ.

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81. Anas (Mallard, Gadwall). Bill long as head, broad, depressed, sides parallel, sometimes partially dilated, both mandibles with transverse lamellæ on inner edges; nostrils small, oval, lateral, anterior to base of bill; wings rather long, pointed; tail wedge-shaped; legs rather short; hind toe without lobe. Sexes differ in plumage.

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82. Spatula (Shoveller). Bill much longer than head, widening towards end, lamellæ projecting conspicuously; no soft membrane on sides of bill towards tip; wing pointed, first and second quills longest; tail short, graduated; legs very short.

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83. Dafila (Pintail). Bill long as head, edges nearly parallel, widening a little to end, lamellæ not strongly defined; neck long, slender; tail sharply pointed, central rectrices considerably elongated in male; margin of web to anterior toes slightly emarginate.

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84. Querquédula (Teal). Bill long as head, lamellæ exposed along projecting edge of upper mandible; tail of sixteen feathers, short and rounded; hind toe very small, outer shorter than third, centre rather long; interdigital membrane emarginate.

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85. Maréca (Wigeon). Bill shorter than head, higher than broad at base, depressed and narrowed towards point; tail short, pointed; tibia bare for short distance; hind toe with very narrow lobe.

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SUB-FAMILY FULIGULINÆ

Hind toe with lobated membrane; tarsi compressed.

86. Fulígula (Pochard, Tufted Duck, Scaup). Bill not longer than head, slightly elevated at base, broader towards tip; edges of upper mandible enclosing edges of lower; nostrils near base.

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87. Clangúla (Goldeneye). Bill much shorter than head, depressed towards nail, which is elliptical and decurved at tip; lamellæ hidden; nostrils near middle of bill.

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88. Harelda (Long-tailed Duck). Bill much shorter than head, tapering rapidly to broad, decurved nail at tip. Lamellæ slightly exposed; nostrils sub-basal. Feathering at base of bill forming oblique line, advancing furthest forward on forehead. Wings rather short, pointed; scapulars elongate and lanceolate in adult male; tail short, graduated except for two central feathers, which are long and tapering in adult male.

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89. Somateria (Eider Duck). Bill swollen and elevated at base, extending up the forehead, there divided by angular projection of feathers; nostrils medial.

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90. Œdemia (Scoters). Bill short, broad, with an elevated knob at the base, the tip much flattened; nail large, flat, obtuse, slightly deflected; lamellæ coarse, widely set; nostrils oval, medial; tail short, graduated, acute.

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SUB-FAMILY MERGANINÆ

91. Mergus (Smew, Merganser, Goosander). Bill straight, slender, narrow, approaching to cylindrical; upper mandible hooked; edges of both mandibles armed with sharp teeth directed backwards; legs short, placed far backward.

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ORDER COLUMBÆ

(Pigeons and Doves)

Bill swollen at tip, convex; the upper mandible covered at the base with a soft membrane in which lie the nostrils, with a valve over them; tarsi covered fore and rear with hexagonal scales.

The birds of this order have considerable powers of flight, and perch freely on trees or rocks. Their food consists principally of grain, seeds, and the leaves of herbaceous plants. The young are fed on a milky fluid secreted in the crop of the old birds.

FAMILY COLUMBIDÆ

Tail with twelve feathers; hind toe with the skin prominently expanded on the sides.

92. Columba (Wood-pigeon, Stock-dove, Rock-dove). Bill moderate, straight at base, compressed, point deflected; tail nearly even; first primary much larger than sixth.

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93. Turtur (Turtle-dove). Bill rather slender, tip of upper mandible gently deflected, that of lower scarcely exhibiting the appearance of an angle; tail rather long, graduated.

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ORDER PTEROCLETES

FAMILY PTEROCLIDÆ

94. Syrrhaptes (Sandgrouse). Bill small, gradually decurved; nostrils basal, hidden; wings long, pointed, first primary largest; tail of sixteen feathers, cuneate, central pair long; tarsi short, strong; feathered to toes; three toes, all in front; hallux obsolete; soles rugose; claws broad and obtuse.

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ORDER GALLINÆ

Bill short and stout; culmen arched, and overhanging the mandible.

FAMILY TETRAONIDÆ

95. Tetráo (Black Grouse, Capercaillie). Bill strong; eyebrows naked, adorned with scarlet papillæ; tarsi feathered, without spurs; front toes naked, with pectinated margins; hind toe larger than the nail.

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96. Lagópus (Red Grouse, Ptarmigan). Front toes feathered, nearly smooth at the margins; hind toe shorter than the nail; in other respects like the last.

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FAMILY PHASIANIDÆ

Nostrils never hidden by feathers; toes never pectinated.

97. Phasiánus (Pheasant). Cheeks naked, adorned with scarlet papillæ; tail very long, of eighteen feathers.

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98. Perdix (Partridge). Bill strong; orbits naked; tarsus naked, male with a knob on the tarsus behind; tail of sixteen feathers, short, bent down.

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99. Caccabis (Red-legged Partridge). Tail of fourteen feathers; tarsi armed with blunt spurs in male.

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100. Coturnix (Quail). Bill slender; orbits feathered; wings with the first primary longest; tail very short; almost concealed by the tail-coverts.

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ORDER FULICARIÆ

(RAILS AND COOTS)

FAMILY RALLIDÆ

(Rails)

101. Crex (Corn-crake). Bill shorter than the head, thick at the base, compressed, pointed; front toes entirely divided, not margined; second and third primaries longest. Tail pointed, rectrices narrow.

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102. Porzana (Spotted and Little Crakes). Bill shorter than head; wings shorter than in Crex; second quill longest; secondaries shorter than primaries by length of hind toe and claw.

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103. Rallus (Water-rail). Bill longer than head; wings moderate, third and fourth quills longest.

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104. Gallínula (Moor-hen). Bill shorter than the head, stout, straight, compressed; upper mandible expanding at the base and forming a disc on the forehead; toes entirely divided, bordered by a narrow entire membrane, middle toe longer than tarsus.

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105. Fúlica (Coot). Bill shorter than the head, straight, robust, convex above, much compressed; upper mandible dilated at the base, and forming a naked patch on the forehead; all the toes united at the base, and bordered by a scalloped membrane.

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ORDER ALECTORIDES

Angle of the mandible always truncated, hind toe generally raised above level of others.

FAMILY GRUIDÆ

Nasal depression more than half as long as maxilla; rectrices twelve.

106. Grus (Crane). Upper mandible deeply channelled; nostrils medial; wings moderate; third primary longest.

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FAMILY OTIDIDÆ

(Bustards)

Bill flattened and obtuse; no hind toe; tarsi unarmed; wings very short; rectrices sixteen to twenty.

107. Otis (Bustard). Legs long, naked above the knee; wings moderate, hind quill longest.

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ORDER LIMICOLÆ

(WADERS)

Leg and tarsus long, the lower portion of the former generally destitute of feathers; bill long or moderate; toes three or four, more or less connected by a membrane at the base, sometimes lobated. Primaries eleven; fifth secondary wanting; after shaft to contour feathers present.

Adapted by structure for feeding in marshes, on the muddy or sandy sea-shore, or on the banks of lakes and rivers. Some, which feed on fish, have unusually long legs and powerful bills; others, owing to their length of bill and legs, are able to search muddy places for worms and insects, without clogging their feathers; and others, again, are decidedly aquatic, and have considerable swimming powers, thus approaching the next order; the majority have great power of flight, and lay their eggs on the ground.

FAMILY GLAREOLIDÆ

108. Glaréola (Pratincole). Bill short, convex, compressed towards the point; upper mandible curved throughout half its length; nostrils basal, oblique; legs feathered nearly to the knee; tarsus long; three toes in front, one behind, the latter joined on the tarsus; wings very long; first primary longest.

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FAMILY CHARADRIIDÆ

Hind toe absent in most species; tarsus usually reticulate, sometimes scutellate.

109. Œdicnémus (Thick-knee). Bill stout, straight, longer than the head, slightly compressed towards the end; nostrils in the middle of the bill, narrow, with the aperture in front, pervious; toes three, united by a membrane as far as the first joint; wings as in the last.

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110. Cursorius (Courser). Bill shorter than the head, depressed at the base, slightly curved, pointed; nostrils basal, oval, covered by a little protuberance. Legs long, slender; toes three, very short, divided nearly to the base, inner toe half the length of the middle one; its claw serrated; claws very short; wings moderate; first primary nearly as long as the second, which is the longest in the wing.

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111. Charádrius (Plover). Bill shorter than the head, slender, straight, compressed, somewhat swollen towards the tip; nasal channel reaching from the base through two-thirds of the bill, covered by a membrane; nostrils basal, very narrow; tarsi moderate, slender; toes three, the outer and middle connected by a short membrane; wings moderate; first primary longest.

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112. Squatárola (Grey Plover). Bill shorter than the head, straight, swollen and hard towards the tip; nostrils basal, narrow, pierced in the membrane of a long groove; legs slender; outer and middle toe connected by a short membrane, hind toe rudimentary, jointed on the tarsus, not touching the ground; wings long, pointed; first primary longest.

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113. Eudromias (Dotterel). Bill shorter than head, slender, compressed; nasal channel reaching about half length of bill. Wings moderate; inner secondaries much longer than in Charádrius.

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114. Ægialitis (Ringed and Kentish Plovers). Bill much shorter than head, slender, straight to end of nasal channel, which extends beyond middle of bill, then slightly raised, but decurved at tip; wings long, pointed.

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115. Vanellus (Lapwing). Wings large, quills broad and rounded, the fourth and fifth primaries longest. In other respects resembling Squatarola.

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116. Hæmátopus (Oyster Catcher). Bill longer than the head, stout, straight, forming a wedge; legs moderate, stout; toes three, bordered by a narrow membrane; wings long; first primary longest.

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117. Strépsilas (Turnstone). Bill short, thickest at the base and tapering; nostrils basal, narrow, pervious; legs moderate; three front toes connected at the base by a membrane, fourth rudimentary, jointed on the tarsus, touching the ground with its tip.

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FAMILY SCOLOPACIDÆ

(Snipes, etc.)

Bill long and slender; toes four, the hind one weak and elevated, very rarely wanting.

118. Recurvirostra (Avocet). Bill very long, slender, weak, much curved upwards, pointed; legs long, slender; front toes connected as far as the second joint; hind toe very small.

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119. Phaláropus (Phalarope). Bill as long as the head, slender, weak, depressed and blunt; front toes connected as far as the first joint, and bordered by a lobed and slightly serrated membrane; hind toe not bordered.

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120. Scólopax (Woodcock). Bill long, compressed, superior ridge elevated at base of mandible, prominent. Legs rather short, anterior toes almost entirely divided.

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121. Gallinágo (Snipe). Bill very long; legs rather long and slender; anterior toes divided to the base.

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122. Calidris (Sanderling). Bill as long as the head, slender, straight, soft, and flexible, dilated towards the end; nostrils basal, narrow, pierced in the long nasal groove which reaches to the tip; legs slender; toes three, scarcely connected by a membrane; wings moderate; first primary longest.

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123. Tringa (Sandpiper, Knot, Dunlin, Stint). Bill as long as the head or a little longer, straight or slightly curved, soft and flexible, dilated, and blunt towards point; both mandibles grooved along sides; nostrils lateral wings moderately long, pointed, first quill longest; legs moderately long; three toes in front, divided to origin; one behind, small, articulated upon tarsus.

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124. Machétes (Ruff). Bill straight, as long as the head, dilated and smooth at the tip; nasal channel reaching to nearly the end of the bill; nostrils basal; first and second primaries longest; toes four, the outer and middle connected as far as the first joint; neck of the male in spring furnished with a ruff.

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125. Tótanus (Redshank, Sandpiper). Bill moderate, slender, soft at the base, solid at the end; both mandibles grooved at the base, upper channelled through half its length; nostrils pierced in the groove; legs long, slender; toes four.

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126. Limósa (Godwit). Bill very long, slender, curved upwards, soft and flexible throughout, dilated towards the tip, and blunt; upper mandible channelled throughout its whole length; nostrils linear, pierced in the groove, pervious; legs long and slender; toes four, the outer and middle connected as far as as the first joint; wings moderate; first primary longest.

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127. Numenius (Curlew, Whimbrel). Bill much larger than the head, slender, curved downwards.

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ORDER GAVIÆ

Front toes entirely connected by webs. Primaries, ten large and visible, one minute and concealed.

FAMILY LARIDÆ

(Gulls, Terns, Skuas)

SUB-FAMILY STERNINÆ

Bill straight, rather slender; mandibles of about equal length.

128. Hydrochelidon (Black, White-winged, and Whiskered Terns). Tail feathers rounded or slightly pointed; tail short, less than half length of wing.

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129. Sterna (Other Terns). Outer tail feathers longest, pointed; tarsus short; tail at least half length of wing; bill compressed and slender; tarsus never exceeds length of middle toe with claw.

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SUB-FAMILY LARINÆ

Bill with upper mandible longer and bent over tip of under one.

130. Larus (Gull). Bill moderate, strong, sharp-edged above, compressed, slightly decurved; hind toe high on the tarsus; first primary nearly equal to the second, which is longest; tail even, or but slightly forked.

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131. Rissa (Kittiwake). Bill rather short and stout, considerably decurved; hind toe minute and usually obsolete; first primary slightly exceeding second; tail perceptibly forked in young, nearly square in adult.

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SUB-FAMILY STERCORARIINÆ

Bill with a cere; claws large, strong, hooked.

132. Stercorarius (Skua). Bill moderate, strong, rounded above, compressed towards the tip, which is decurved; nostrils far forward, diagonal, pervious; hind toe very small, scarcely elevated; the middle tail-feathers more or less elongated.

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ORDER PYGOPODES

Wings short

FAMILY ALCIDÆ

(Auks)

Bill much flattened vertically (compressed); wings short; legs placed at the extremity of the body; feet three-toed, palmated; tail short. Food, mostly fish, and captured by diving.

133. Alca (Razor-bill). Bill large, sharp-edged, the basal half feathered, the terminal part grooved laterally; upper mandible much curved towards the point; nostrils nearly concealed by a feathered membrane; tail pointed.

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134. UÚria (Guillemot). Bill strong, nearly straight, sharp-pointed, of moderate length; nostrils basal, partly covered by a feathered membrane; first primary longest.

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135. Mérgulus. (Little Auk). Bill strong, conical, slightly curved, shorter than the head; nostrils basal, partly covered by a feathered membrane; first and second primaries equal.

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136. Fratercula (Puffin). Bill shorter than head, higher than long, ridge of upper mandible higher than crown; both mandibles much curved throughout, transversely furrowed, notched at tip; nostrils basal, almost closed by a naked membrane.

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FAMILY COLYMBIDÆ

(Divers)

Bill slightly compressed, not covered with a membranous skin; edges of the mandibles unarmed, or but slightly toothed; wings short; legs placed far behind; tarsi very much compressed; toes four. Food, fish and other aquatic animal substances obtained by diving. Females smaller than males.

137. Colymbus (Diver). Bill forming a pointed cylindrical cone; front toes entirely palmated; tail very short.

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FAMILY PODICIPEDIDÆ

(Grebes)

Hallux raised above level of other toes; toes with wide lateral lobes, united at base. Tail vestigial.

138. Pódicipes (Grebe). Bill forming pointed cylindrical cone; secondaries, if any, very little shorter than primaries.

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ORDER TUBINARES

External nostrils are produced into tubes; anterior toes fully webbed; hallux small or absent.

FAMILY PROCELLARIIDÆ

Nostrils united exteriorly above culmen.

139. Fulmarus (Fulmar). Bill not so long as head; upper mandible of four portions divided by indentations, the whole large, strong, curving suddenly to point; under mandible grooved along sides, bent at end; edges of mandibles sharp; nostrils prominent, united, enclosed, somewhat hidden in tube with single external orifice; wings rather long, first quill longest; tarsi compressed, feet moderate.

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140. Puffinus (Shearwaters). Bill rather longer than head, slender; mandibles compressed, decurved; nasal tube low, both nostrils visible from above, directed forwards and slightly upwards; wings long, pointed, first quill slightly the longest; tail graduated; tarsi compressed laterally.

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141. Procellaria (Storm and Fork-tailed Petrels). Bill small, robust, much shorter than head, straight to nail, which is decurved; wings long, narrow, second quill longest, slightly exceeding third, first shorter than fourth; tail moderate, slightly rounded; legs moderate, claws rather short.

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ORDER PASSERES

FAMILY TURDIDÆ

Sub-Family TURDINÆ

THE MISTLE (OR MISSEL) THRUSH

TURDUS VISCIVORUS

Upper plumage ash brown; space between the bill and eye greyish white; wing-coverts edged and tipped with greyish white; under parts white, faintly tinged here and there with reddish yellow, marked all over with deep brown spots, which on the throat and breast are triangular, in other parts oval, broader on the flanks; under wing-coverts white; three lateral tail feathers tipped with greyish white. Length eleven inches; breadth eighteen inches. Eggs greenish or reddish white, spotted with brownish red. Young spotted on the head and back with buff and black.

The largest British song bird, distinguished from the Song Thrush not only by its superior size, but by having white under wing-coverts, and the whole of the under part of the body buffish-white, spotted with black. It is a generally diffused bird, and is known by various local names; in the west of England its popular name is Holm Thrush, or Holm Screech, derived most probably, not, as Yarrell surmises, from its resorting to the oak in preference to other trees, but from its feeding on the berries of the holly, or holm; the title 'Screech' being given to it from its jarring note when angry or alarmed, which closely resembles the noise made by passing the finger-nail rapidly along the teeth of a comb. Its French name, 'Draine', and German, 'Schnarre', seem to be descriptive of the same harsh 'churr'. In Wales, it has from its quarrelsome habits acquired the name of Penn y llwyn, or, master of the coppice. Another of its names, Throstle Cock, expresses its alliance with the Thrushes, and its daring nature; and another Storm Cock, indicates 'not that it delights in storms more than in fine weather, but that nature has taught it to pour forth its melody at a time of the year when the bleak winds of winter roar through the leafless trees'. The song of the Mistle Thrush is loud, wild, and musical, Waterton calls it 'plaintive', Knapp 'harsh and untuneful'. I must confess that I agree with neither. This note, generally the earliest of the Spring sounds (for the Redbreast's song belongs essentially to winter), is to my ear full of cheerful promise amounting to confidence—a song of exultation in the return of genial weather. The bird sings generally perched on the topmost branch of some lofty tree, and there he remains for hours together out-whistling the wind and heeding not the pelting rain. This song, however, is not continuous, but broken into passages of a few notes each, by which characteristic it may be distinguished alike from that of the Thrush or the Blackbird, even when mellowed by distance to resemble either. The Mistletoe Thrush is essentially a tree-loving bird. During winter its food mainly consists of berries, among which those of the Mountain Ash and Yew have the preference, though it also feeds on those of the Hawthorn, Ivy, Juniper, and the strange plant from which it derives its name.[1] Towards other birds it is a very tyrant, selfish and domineering in the extreme; to such a degree, indeed, that even when it has appeased its appetite it will allow no other bird to approach the tree which it has appropriated for its feeding ground. I have seen it take possession of a Yew-tree laden with berries, and most mercilessly drive away, with angry vociferations and yet more formidable buffets, every other bird that dared to come near. Day after day it returned, until the tree was stripped of every berry, when it withdrew and appeared no more.

As soon as the unfrozen earth is penetrable by its beak, it adds to its diet such worms and grubs as it can discover; and, if it be not belied, it is given to plunder the nests of other birds of their eggs and young. It may be on this account that Magpies, Jays, and other large woodland birds, robbers themselves, entertain an instinctive dislike towards it. Certainly these birds are its better enemies; but in the breeding season it eludes their animosity by quitting the woods, and resorting to the haunts of man. Its harsh screech is now rarely heard, for its present object is not defiance, but immunity from danger. Yet it takes no extraordinary pains to conceal its nest. On the contrary, it usually places this where there is little or no foliage to shadow it, in a fork between two large boughs of an apple, pear, or cherry tree, sometimes only a few feet from the ground, and sometimes twenty feet or more. The nest is a massive structure, consisting of an external basket-work of twigs, roots, and lichens, within which is a kind of bowl of mud containing a final lining of grass and roots. The bird is an early builder. It generally lays five eggs and feeds its young on snails, worms, and insects. The range of the Mistle Thrush extends as far as the Himalayas. In Great Britain it is a resident species.

[1] That this thrush feeds on the berries of the mistletoe was stated by Yarrell, but it is not now generally believed to be a fact.

THE SONG THRUSH

TURDUS MÚSICUS

Upper parts brown tinged with olive; wing-coverts edged and tipped with reddish yellow; cere yellowish; throat white in the middle, without spots; sides of neck and breast reddish yellow with triangular dark brown spots; abdomen and flanks pure white with oval dark brown spots; under wing-coverts pale orange yellow; bill and feet greyish brown. Length, eight inches and a half, breadth thirteen inches. Eggs blue with a few black spots mostly at the larger end.

The Thrush holds a distinguished place among British birds, as contributing, perhaps, more than any other to the aggregate charms of a country life. However near it may be, its song is never harsh, and heard at a distance its only defect is, that it is not nearer. It possesses, too, the charm of harmonizing with all other pleasant natural sounds. If to these recommendations we add that the Thrush frequents all parts of England, and resorts to the suburban garden as well as the forest and rocky glen, we think we may justly claim for it the distinction among birds, of being the last that we would willingly part with, not even excepting its allowed master in song himself, the Nightingale. Three notes are often repeated: Did he do it? Shut the gate, Kubelik.

The food of the Thrush during winter consists of worms, insects, and snails. The first of these it picks up or draws out from their holes, in meadows and lawns; the others it hunts for among moss and stones, in woods and hedges, swallowing the smaller ones whole, and extracting the edible parts of large snails by dashing them with much adroitness against a stone. When it has once discovered a stone adapted to its purpose, it returns to it again and again, so that it is not uncommon in one's winter walks to come upon a place thickly strewn with broken shells, all, most probably, the 'chips' of one workman. As spring advances, it adds caterpillars to its bill of fare, and as the summer fruits ripen, it attacks them all in succession; strawberries, gooseberries, currants, raspberries, cherries, and, on the Continent, grapes suit its palate right well; and, when these are gone, pears and apples, whether attached to the tree or lying on the ground, bear, too often for the gardener, the marks of its beak on their ripest side. During all this period it relieves the monotony of its diet by an occasional repast on animal food; as, indeed, in winter it alternates its food whenever opportunity occurs, by regaling itself on wild berries. Yet, despite the mischief which it perpetrates in our gardens by devouring and spoiling much of the choicest fruit—for your thrush is an epicure, and tastes none but the ripest and best—the service which it renders as a devourer of insects more than compensates for all. So the gardener, if a wise man, will prefer the scare-crow to the gun, the protecting net to that which captures.

I know two adjoining estates in Yorkshire. On one the gardener shoots blackbirds and thrushes in fruit time. On the other they are protected. The latter yields always more fruit than the former.

The Thrush holds a high rank, too, among birds as an architect. Its nest is usually placed in a thorn-bush, a larch or young fir-tree, a furze-bush, an apple or pear tree, or an ordinary hedge, at no great elevation from the ground, and not concealed with much attempt at art. Indeed, as it begins to build very early, it is only when it selects an evergreen that it has much chance of effectually hiding its retreat. The nest externally is composed of feather-moss, intermatted with bents, twigs, and small roots, and terminates above in a thicker rim of the same materials. Thus far the bird has displayed her skill as basket-maker. The outer case is succeeded by a layer of cow-dung, applied in small pellets, and cemented with saliva. The builder, with a beak for her only trowel, has now completed the mason's work. But she has yet to show her skill as a plasterer; this she does by lining her cup-like chamber with stucco made from decayed wood, pulverized and reduced to a proper consistence, kneading it with her beak. With this for her sole instrument, except her round breast, to give to the whole the requisite form, she has constructed a circular bowl sufficiently compact to exclude air and water, as true and as finely finished as if it had been moulded on a potter's wheel, or turned on a lathe.

The Thrush lays four or five eggs, and rears several broods in the season, building a new nest for each brood. During incubation the female is very tame, and will suffer herself to be approached quite closely without deserting her post. In the vicinity of houses, where she is familiar with the human form, she will even take worms and other food from the hand.

THE REDWING

TURDUS ILÍACUS

Upper plumage olive brown; lore black and yellow; a broad white streak above the eye; lower plumage white, with numerous oblong dusky spots, middle of the abdomen without spots; under wing-coverts and flanks bright orange red; bill dusky; feet grey. Length eight inches, breadth thirteen inches. Eggs greenish blue mottled with dark brownish red spots.

The Redwing (called in France Mauvis, whence an old name for the Song-thrush, 'Mavis') is the smallest of the Thrushes with which we are familiar. It is, like the Fieldfare, a bird of passage, reaching us from the north about the same time with the Woodcock, in October. It resembles the Song-thrush more than any other bird of the family, but may readily be distinguished even at some distance by the light stripe over the eye, and its bright red under wing-coverts. In some parts of France it is much sought after by the fowler, its flesh being considered by many superior to that of the Quail and Woodcock. It owes perhaps some of this unfortunate distinction to the fact of its arriving in France in time to fatten on grapes, for in this country it is often too lean to be worth cooking. Being impatient of cold, it is less abundant in the north of England than the south; but even in the mild climates of Devon and Cornwall, where it congregates in large numbers, it is so much enfeebled by unusually severe weather, as to be liable to be hunted down by boys with sticks, and a Redwing starved to death used to be no unfrequent sight in the course of a winter's ramble. As long as the ground remains neither frozen nor snowed up, the open meadows may be seen everywhere spotted with these birds, but when the earth becomes so hard as to resist their efforts in digging up worms and grubs, they repair to the cliffs which border the sea-coast, where some sunny nook is generally to be found, to woods in quest of berries, or to the water-courses of sheltered valleys. At these times they are mostly silent, their only note, when they utter any, being simple and harsh; but in France they are said to sing towards the end of February, and even in this country they have been known to perch on trees in mild weather, and execute a regular song. Towards the end of April or beginning of May, they take their departure northwards, where they pass the summer, preferring woods and thickets in the vicinity of marshes. Mr. Hewitson states that while he was travelling through Norway 'the Redwing was but seldom seen, and then perched upon the summit of one of the highest trees, pouring forth its delightfully wild note. It was always very shy, and upon seeing our approach would drop suddenly from its height, and disappear among the underwood. Its nest, which we twice found with young ones (although our unceasing endeavours to find its eggs were fruitless), was similar to that of the Fieldfare. The Redwing is called the Nightingale of Norway, and well it deserves the name', and Turdus Ilíacus because it frequented in such great numbers the environs of Ilion-Troy.

THE FIELDFARE

TURDUS PILÁRIS

Head, nape, and lower part of the back dark ash colour; upper part of the back and wing-coverts chestnut brown; lore black; a white rim above the eyes; throat and breast yellowish red with oblong dark spots; feathers on the flanks spotted with black and edged with white; abdomen pure white without spots; under wing-coverts white, beak brown, tipped with black. Length ten inches, breadth seventeen inches. Eggs light blue, mottled all over with dark red brown spots.

The Fieldfare is little inferior in size to the Missel Thrush, with which, however, it is not likely to be confounded even at a distance, owing to the predominant bluish tinge of its upper plumage. In the west of England, where the Thrush is called the Greybird, to distinguish it from its ally the Blackbird, the Fieldfare is known by the name of Bluebird, to distinguish it from both. It is a migratory bird, spending its summer, and breeding, in the north of Europe, and paying us an annual visit in October or November. But it is impatient of cold, even with us, for in winters of unusual severity it migrates yet farther south, and drops in upon our meadows a second time in the spring, when on its way to its summer quarters. Fieldfares are eminently gregarious; not only do they arrive at our shores and depart from them in flocks, but they keep together as long as they remain, nor do they dissolve their society on their return to the north, but build their nests many together in the same wood. In this country, they are wild and cautious birds, resorting during open weather to water-courses and damp pastures, where they feed on worms and insects, and when frost sets in betaking themselves to bushes in quest of haws and other berries; or in very severe weather resorting to the muddy or sandy sea-shore. They frequent also commons on which the Juniper abounds, the berries of this shrub affording them an abundant banquet. Unlike the Blackbird and Thrush, they rarely seek for food under hedges, but keep near the middle of fields, as if afraid of being molested by some concealed enemy. When alarmed, they either take refuge in the branches of a high tree in the neighbourhood, or remove altogether to a distant field. The song of the Fieldfare I have never heard: Toussenel doubts whether it has any; Yarrell describes it as 'soft and melodious'; Bechstein as 'a mere harsh disagreeable warble'; while a writer in the Zoologist who heard one sing during the mild January of 1846, in Devon, describes it as 'combining the melodious whistle of the Blackbird with the powerful voice of the Mistle Thrush'. Its call-note is short and harsh, and has in France given it the provincial names of Tia-tia and Tchatcha. This latter name accords with Macgillivray's mode of spelling its note, yack chuck, harsh enough, no one will deny. 'Our attention was attracted by the harsh cries of several birds which we at first supposed must be Shrikes, but which afterwards proved to be Fieldfares. We were now delighted by the discovery of several of their nests, and were surprised to find them (so contrary to the habits of other species of the genus with which we are acquainted) breeding in society. Their nests were at various heights from the ground, from four to thirty or forty feet or upwards; they were, for the most part, placed against the trunk of the Spruce Fir; some were, however, at a considerable distance from it, upon the upper surface and towards the smaller end of the thicker branches: they resembled most nearly those of the Ring Ouzel; the outside is composed of sticks and coarse grass and weeds gathered wet, matted with a small quantity of clay, and lined with a thick bed of fine dry grass: none of them yet contained more than three eggs, although we afterwards found that five was more commonly the number than four, and that even six was very frequent; they are very similar to those of the Blackbird, and even more so to the Ring Ouzel. The Fieldfare is the most abundant bird in Norway, and is generally diffused over that part which we visited, building, as already noticed, in society; two hundred nests or more being frequently seen within a very small space.' Oddly enough two hundred was just the number of a colony of nests in Thüringen on the estate of Baron von Berlepsch, which were those of Fieldfares he had induced to come by trimming the trunks of a long row of Black Poplar trees so as to afford good sites for the nests. The present editor visited these in 1906. Some few instances are on record of the Fieldfare breeding in this country, but these are exceptional. In general they leave us in April and May, though they have been observed as late as the beginning of June.

THE BLACKBIRD

TURDUS MERULA

Male—plumage wholly black; bill and orbits of the eyes orange yellow; feet black. Female—upper plumage sooty brown; throat pale brown with darker spots; breast reddish brown passing into dark ash brown; bill and legs dusky. Length ten inches; breadth sixteen inches. Eggs greenish grey, spotted and speckled with light red brown.

With his glossy coat and yellow beak the Blackbird is a handsomer bird than the Thrush; his food is much the same: he builds his nest in similar places; he is a great glutton when gooseberries are ripe, and his rich mellow song is highly inspiriting. But he is suspicious and wary; however hard pressed he may be by hunger, you will rarely see him hunting for food in the open field. He prefers the solitude and privacy of 'the bush'. In a furze-brake, a coppice, a wooded water-course, or a thick hedge-row, he chooses his feeding ground, and allows no sort of partnership. Approach his haunt, and if he simply mistrusts you, he darts out flying close to the ground, pursues his course some twenty yards and dips again into the thicket, issuing most probably on the other side, and ceasing not until he has placed what he considers a safe distance between himself and his enemy. But with all his cunning he fails in prudence; it is not in his nature to steal away silently. If he only suspects that all is not right, he utters repeatedly a low cluck, which seems to say, 'This is no place for me, I must be off'. But if he is positively alarmed, his loud vociferous cry rings out like a bell, informing all whom it may concern that 'danger is at hand, and it behoves all who value their safety to fly'. Most animals understand the cry in this sense, and catch the alarm. Many a time has the deer-stalker been disappointed of a shot, who, after traversing half a mile on his hands and knees between rocks and shrubs, has just before the critical moment of action started some ill-omened Blackbird. Out bursts the frantic alarum, heard at a great distance; the intended victim catches the alarm, once snuffs the air to discover in what direction the foe lies concealed, and bounds to a place of security. A somewhat similar note, not, however, indicative of terror, real or imagined, is uttered when the bird is about to retire for the night, and this at all seasons of the year. He would merit, therefore, the title of 'Bellman of the woods'. Neither of these sounds is to be confounded with the true song of the Blackbird. This is a full, melodious, joyful carol, many of the notes being remarkable for their flute-like tone—'the whistling of the Blackbird'—and varying greatly in their order of repetition; though I am inclined to believe that most birds of this kind have a favourite passage, which they repeat at intervals many times during the same performance.

PLATES TO BLACKBIRD.

1. A nest and eggs.
2. The young just emerged from the egg and an egg (June 1).
3. The day after hatching (June 2).
4. Four days later (June 4).
5. Sixth day out (June 5).
6. Ninth day out.
7. Eleventh day out.
8. Fourteenth day out.

We would draw attention to the extraordinary size of the bird just out as compared with the egg. On the sixth day the feather shafts with the tips of the encased feathers sticking out of them are quite formed, although two days earlier they were hardly more than indicated. On the ninth day feathers nearly cover the whole of the skin—on the eleventh day they do this completely. In No. 8 the bird was drawn after it had flown from the nest.

The song of the Blackbird does not meet the approbation of bird-fanciers: 'It is not destitute of melody,' says Bechstein, 'but it is broken by noisy tones, and is agreeable only in the open country'. The art of teaching the Blackbird is of old date, for we find in Pepys' Diary, May 22, 1663, the following passage: 'Rendall, the house carpenter at Deptford, hath sent me a fine Blackbird, which I went to see. He tells me he was offered twenty shillings for him as he came along, he do so whistle. 23d. Waked this morning between four and five by my Blackbird, which whistled as well as ever I heard any; only it is the beginning of many tunes very well, but then leaves them and goes no further.'

The song of the Blackbird is occasionally heard during the mild days of winter, but it is not until spring sets in that it can be said to be in full, uninterrupted song. It then repairs to some thick bush or hedge, especially at the corner of a pond, and builds its nest, a bulky structure, the framework of which is composed of twigs and roots; within is a thin layer of mud lined with small fibrous roots, bents, and moss. The nest contains four or five eggs, and the young birds are fed with worms. In the breeding season Blackbirds are far more venturesome than at any other time, as they frequently select a garden in which to build their nest, with the double object, perhaps, of procuring plenty of worms for their nestlings, and of launching them when fledged where they will have great facilities for regaling themselves on summer fruits. In such localities the appearance of a cat near their nest greatly excites their wrath. From being timid they become very courageous, scolding with all their might, darting down so near as almost to dash in her face, and generally ending by compelling her to beat a retreat.

The female Blackbird differs materially from the male, its plumage being of a dingy brown hue, the breast light and spotted, the beak dark brown with yellowish edges. White and pied specimens of both sexes are occasionally met with. In a district of France not far from Paris they are very numerous, and here the title to a certain estate used to be kept up by the annual presentation of a white Blackbird to the lord of the manor. Large flocks from the Continent visit us in the autumn and winter.

THE RING OUZEL

TURDUS TORQUATUS

Plumage black edged with greyish white; a large crescent-shaped pure white spot on the throat; bill and legs dusky. Female with the gorget smaller and tinged with red and grey, and the rest of the plumage greyer. Length ten inches. Eggs greenish white, spotted with reddish brown and grey.

Ring Ouzel is hardly an appropriate name for this bird; for in reality it does not wear a ring round its neck, but a white gorget on its breast, the contrast between which and its black plumage is very striking. It frequents the mountainous parts of Scotland and hilly parts of Derbyshire, and other wild parts where moors and hills are. Though never so abundant as the Blackbird and Thrush are in the plains, it is far from uncommon. It is a migratory bird, arriving in this country in April, and returning to its southern winter quarters—Corsica and other islands of the Mediterranean—early in autumn; not so early, however, as to miss the vintage season of the south of Europe. In summer it travels as far north as Sweden and Norway, where, on the authority of Mr. Hewitson, it is often seen 'enlivening the most bleak and desolate islands with its sweet song. It shares with the Redwing the name of Nightingale, and often delighted us in our midnight visits amongst the islands.' Its habits and food while it remains with us are very similar to those of the Blackbird, and its nest, generally built among stones and bushes, near the ground, is constructed of the same materials with the nest of that bird. Towards the end of their sojourn in Britain, Ring Ouzels descend to the level countries, and are not unfrequently met with in gardens, whither they repair for the sake of feeding on fruit and berries. In form and movements the Ring Ouzel is a more elegantly shaped bird than the Blackbird.

THE WHEATEAR (STONE-SMATCH)[2]

SAXÍCOLA ŒNANTHÉ

Upper parts, in autumn reddish brown, in spring bluish grey; wings and wing-coverts, centre and extremity of the tail, legs and feet, bill and area which comprises the nostrils, eyes and ears, black; base and lower portion of the side of the tail pure white; the chin, forehead, stripe over the eyes, and under parts are also white, and in autumn the tail-feathers are also tipped with white. Female—upper parts ash-brown, tinged with yellow; stripe over the eyes dingy; all the colours less bright. Length six and a half inches; breadth twelve inches. Eggs pale bluish green.

During a considerable portion of its stay with us, open downs near the sea are the favourite resort of this lively bird, to which it repairs from its transmarine winter quarters towards the second week of March. Here it may be seen for several weeks flitting from rock to rock, and occasionally soaring to the height of about twenty yards into the air, warbling from time to time its pleasant song, now aloft, and now restlessly perched on a rock, or bank, or low stone wall, calling chack-chack—and making itself all the more welcome that few others among our summer visitants have as yet recovered their voices. We need not suppose that Wheatears prolong their stay on the coast in order to rest after their voyage. More probably they make marine insects (for these are abundant even in early spring) the principal portion of their food, and are taught, by the same instinct which guided them across the sea, to remain where their wants will be fully supplied until land insects have emerged from their winter quarters. As the season advances many of them proceed inland, and repair to barren districts, whether mountainous or lowland, where they may enjoy a considerable expanse without any great admixture of trees. A wide common studded with blocks of stone, a rabbit-warren or sloping upland, is likely to be more or less thickly peopled by these shy birds. Shy we term them, because, disposed as they are to be social among themselves (especially in spring and autumn), they are with respect to other birds most exclusive. Travelling through the waste lands of England, one may sometimes go on for miles and see no winged creatures but an occasional Wheatear, which, with dipping flight, made conspicuous by the snow-white spot at the base of its tail, shoots ahead of us some thirty or forty yards, alights on a stone, and, after a few uneasy upward and downward movements of its tail, starts off again to repeat the same manœuvre, until we begin to wonder what tempts it to stray away so far from home. It does not ordinarily sing during these excursions, but utters its occasional note, very different from its spring song. It builds its nest of grass, moss, and leaves, and lines it with hair or wool, selecting some very secret spot on the ground, a deserted rabbit-burrow or cavity under a rock, where, beyond the reach of any but the most cunning marauder, it lays five or six eggs. Early in August, when the young are fully fledged, the scattered colonies of Wheatears assemble for emigration on open downs near the sea. We have seen a good many of them on the sandy coast of Norfolk and of North Hales; but it is on the extensive downs of Sussex that they collect in the largest numbers, not in flocks, but in parties of six or eight; each party perhaps constituting a family. They here retain their shy habits of flying off at the approach of a human being, and are often seen to drop suddenly, where they may remain concealed from sight behind a stone, furze-bush or bank. The shepherds and others, whose vocation lies on the downs, used to take advantage of the habit of these birds to conceal themselves, and construct a multitude of simple but efficacious traps in which they capture large numbers. The method which they adopted was to cut out from the sward an oblong piece of turf about the size of a brick, which they inverted over the hole from which it was taken so as to form a cross. Beneath this are placed two running nooses of horsehair, in which the poor bird, when it takes refuge in one of the open ends of the hole for concealment, is easily snared. The birds being in fine condition at this season—having, in fact, fattened themselves previously to undertaking their long sea voyage—are highly prized as a dainty article of food. It was formerly the custom for persons who wanted a dish of Wheatears to supply themselves from the traps, placing a penny in every hole from which they took a bird; but afterwards the influx of visitors to the neighbouring watering-places so much enhanced their value, that the shepherds allowed no such interference. We once tried the experiment of releasing a bird and depositing the penny-piece in the trap, when, from a neighbouring eminence, we were assailed with such a torrent of abuse, that we declined repeating the experiment. In September, all who have escaped the sportsman and fowler wing their way to southern lands. It is thought that the autumnal flocks are partially composed of birds on their way from high latitudes, which stop to recruit their strength on the South-downs previous to final emigration.

[2] Stone-smatch in Yorkshire—from the Saxon, Steinschmätzer in German.

THE WHINCHAT

PRATÍNCOLA RUBÉTRA

Upper plumage dusky brown, edged with reddish yellow; over the eye a broad white streak; throat and sides of the neck white; neck and breast bright yellowish red; a large white spot on the wings and base of the tail; extremity of the latter and the whole of the two central feathers dusky brown; abdomen and flanks yellowish white. Female—yellowish white wherever the male is pure white; the white spot on the wings smaller; the red parts dingy. Length five inches; breadth nine inches. Eggs bluish green, often minutely speckled with light brownish red.

A great deal that we have said of the Stonechat, will apply equally to the Whinchat, as the two birds much resemble each other in character, size, and habits. There is this difference, however, between them, that a considerable number of Stonechats remain in Britain during the winter, whereas the Whinchats, almost to a bird, leave our shores in the autumn. The latter is by no means so common, and is rarely seen except in wild places where the shrub is abundant from which it derives its name of Whinchat, or Furzechat. For a small bird to have black legs is, it seems, considered in France an indication of peculiar delicacy of flesh. Both of these birds, therefore, notwithstanding their diminutive size, are much sought after for the table. Both are of restless habits, delighting to perch on the summit of a furze-bush, where they keep the tail in constant motion, occasionally spring into the air after an insect, and then dart off with a dipping flight to another post of advantage. They repeat the call of ü-tick! and their short and simple song, both while at rest and on the wing; but they are not musical, and 'their flesh is generally more esteemed than their song.' The Whinchat may be distinguished at a considerable distance by the white streak over the eye. Both nest and eggs of the two species are very similar.

THE STONECHAT

PRATÍNCOLA RUBÍCOLA

Head, throat, bill and legs, black; sides of the neck near the wing, tertial wing-coverts and rump, white; breast bright chestnut-red, shaded into yellowish white towards the tail; feathers of the back, wings and tail, black, with reddish brown edges. Female—feathers of the head and upper parts dusky brown, edged with yellowish red; throat black, with small whitish and reddish spots; less white in the wings and tail; the red of the breast dull. Length five and a quarter inches; breadth eight and a half inches. Eggs pale blue, the larger end often faintly speckled with reddish brown.

We can scarcely pass through a furze-brake during the spring and summer months, without having the presence of the Stonechat almost forced on our notice. I am acquainted with no small bird whose habits are more marked, or more easily observed. Not even does the Skylark build its nest more invariably on the ground, and 'soaring sings, and singing soars', than does the Stonechat build its nest in a furze-bush, and perch on the topmost twigs of shrubs. In the breeding season, too, it seems not to wander far from its home: we know therefore where a pair are to be found at any time; and they allow us to approach so close to them, that we can readily distinguish them by the tints of their plumage.

The nest of the pair may be within a few yards of the spot on which we are standing; but the exact locality no one knows, nor is likely to know but itself. The male is a beautiful creature, with a black head, red breast, and several patches of pure white on its wings, the female much more sober in her attire. Their purpose is evidently to distract our attention from their nest. One is clinging to the top of a Juniper, where he fidgets about uttering his twit-click-click, which you can easily imitate by whistling once sharply and knocking two stones together twice in rapid succession. The other is perched on the top spine of a furze-bush—they are aspiring birds and must settle on the top of whatever they alight on, be it only a dock. Now one dips down and is lost for a few seconds, to appear again, however, directly on the summit of another bush; now they are on our right hand, now on our left; now before us, and then behind. Are they describing a circle round their nest for a centre, or are they trying to trick us into the belief that they are better worth caring for than their young ones, and may be caught if we will only be silly enough to chase them? I do not know; but whatever their thoughts may be, we certainly are in them, and as certainly they are not delighted at our presence. We walk on, and suddenly they are gone; but presently we encounter another pair of the same birds, who if we loiter about will treat us in exactly the same way, but, if we pass on steadily, will take little notice of us.

We have little more to say of the Stonechat. It is not often heard to sing; the reason probably being that, when listeners are in the way, it is too anxious about its nest to be musical. Its food is principally insects, which it often catches on the wing. In winter (for they do not all leave us at this season) it feeds on worms, etc. Its nest is remarkable more from its size and position (usually in the centre of a furze-bush), than for neatness of structure. It lays five eggs. Its name Rubícola denotes a dweller among brambles, and is by no means inappropriate, as it rarely perches on any bush exceeding a bramble in size. Its names Stonechat, Stoneclink or Stonechatter, are evidently to be traced to the similarity between its note of alarm and the striking together of two pebbles.

THE REDSTART

RUTICILLA PHŒNICURA

Forehead white; throat black; head and upper part of the back bluish grey; breast, tail-coverts and tail (except the two central feathers, which are brown), bright rust-red; second primary equal to the sixth. Female—upper parts grey, tinged with red; larger wing-coverts edged with yellowish red; throat and abdomen whitish; breast, flanks, and under tail-coverts, pale red. Length, five inches and a quarter. Eggs uniform blue.

Although of no great size this summer visitor is pretty sure to attract attention by its peculiar colouring; its red tail and white crown being sufficient to distinguish it from every other British bird. It is familiar, too, in its habits, commonly resorting to gardens, and searching for its favourite food, worms and insects, on the lawn, and in orchards. It is local rather than rare, for while there are some places to which it regularly resorts every year, there are others in which it is never seen. Redstarts arrive in this country about the end of April, and soon set about the work of building their nest. This they generally place in a hole in a wall or hollow of a tree, but sometimes by the mossy stump or amongst the exposed roots of a tree. Occasionally they select a quaint domicile, a garden pot, for example, left bottom upwards, or a sea-kale bed. A still stranger instance is that of a pair of Redstarts, who, themselves or their descendants, were for twenty years located in the box of a wooden pump. On one occasion, the pump being out of order, the owner employed workmen to repair it. This proceeding offended the birds, who deserted it for three years, and then, forgetting or forgiving the intrusion, returned to their unquiet home. Another pair constructed their nest for ten successive years in the interior of an earthenware fountain placed in the middle of a garden. But though not averse to the haunts of men, the Redstart shows much anxiety when its nest is approached, flitting about restlessly and uttering a plaintive cry. I happened once to be walking in a friend's garden, and heard what I supposed to be the chirping of two birds proceed from a large apple-tree close by. As the notes were not familiar to me, I went round the tree several times in order to discover whence they proceeded. One of the notes was like the noise which may be made by striking two pebbles together, the other a querulous chirp, and they seemed to come from different parts of the tree. The author of the music, however, allowed me several times to come very near him, and I satisfied myself that both sounds proceeded from the same bird, a male Redstart, whose nest, I afterwards heard, was built in an adjoining shed. This singular power of ventriloquizing, or making its note apparently proceed from a distant place, is possessed also by the Nightingale, as any one may assure himself who will quietly creep up to within a few yards of one of these birds when singing. The song of the Redstart is short but pleasing, and it is emitted both while the bird is at rest and on the wing, principally in the morning, and only during two months of the year. Its food consists of small worms and insects, which last it is very expert at catching on the wing; and in summer, it regales itself on the soft fruits. Its nest is composed of fibrous roots and moss, and is lined with hair, wool and feathers. It lays about six eggs, which closely resemble those of the Hedge-sparrow, only that they are smaller. In autumn, the Redstarts retire southwards. On the African shores of the Mediterranean they are very abundant, and are caught by the Arabs in traps of the simplest construction. On the continent of Europe, notably in Italy, in spite of their diminutive size, they are highly prized for food. The number of Redstarts (both kinds), Redbreasts Flycatchers and Nightingales taken in traps is inconceivable. These birds being of about the same size, and equally excellent in delicacy of flesh, are sold together in all the market towns and are sent to the great cities. Thousands of dozens are thus annually despatched; but this number is as nothing compared with that consumed on the spot. In France Bird Protection has done much to stop this cruel traffic. In the schools there the boys and girls are now being taught to know and to care for the wild life about them more than in our English Council Schools.

THE BLACK REDSTART

RUTICILLA TITYS

Upper plumage bluish grey; bill, cheeks, throat, and breast, black, passing into bluish beneath; tail as in the last; greater wing-coverts edged with pure white; second primary equal to the seventh. Female—upper plumage duller; lower bright ash, passing into white; wings dusky, edged with grey; red of the tail less bright. Length, five inches and three quarters. Eggs pure shining white.

A much less frequent visitor to this country than the preceding, but by no means ranking among our rarest birds, specimens occurring in the winter of every year in some part of England or another, especially in Devon and Cornwall. Its habits are much the same as those of its congener; but it generally chooses a loftier situation for its nest, which is placed in the walls of buildings, at an elevation varying from a few feet to eighty or ninety. Its plumage differs in being much darker in the fore part of the body, while the tail is of a brighter red. The eggs are white. It generally arrives in England about the first week in November, and remains with us all the winter. Its nest has never been found in this country.

THE REDBREAST, OR ROBIN

ERÍTHACUS RUBÉCULA

Upper parts brownish grey tinged with olive; forehead, lore, and breast red, the red edged with ash-grey; abdomen white. Female like the male, except that the upper parts are ash-brown, the red less bright, and the grey surrounding it less conspicuous. Length, five inches and three quarters. Eggs yellowish white, spotted with light reddish brown.

The Redbreast is everywhere invested with a kind of sanctity beyond all other birds. Its wonted habit of making its appearance, no one knows whence, to greet the resting traveller in places the most lonely—its evident predilection for the society of the out-of-door labourer, whatever his occupation—the constancy with which it affects human habitations—and the readiness with which, without coaxing, or taming, or training, it throws itself on human hospitality—engender an idea that there must be some mysterious connexion between the two—that if there were no men, there would be no Redbreasts. Trust on one side engenders confidence on the other, and mutual attachment is the natural result. There is something, too, beyond the power of explanation in the fact that the Robin is the only bird which frequents from choice the homes of men.

The habits of the Redbreast are so well known, that to describe them would be simply to write down what every one has seen or may see.

It generally builds its nest in a hole, near the bottom of a hedge or under the stump of a tree, in an ivy-clad wall, or amidst the creepers trained round the veranda of a cottage. I have seen it also placed in a niche in a wall intended for the reception of a vase, in a bee-hive stored away on the rafters of an outhouse, and under a wisp of straw accidentally left on the ground in a garden. It is usually composed of dry leaves, roots, bents, and moss, lined with hair and wool, and contains five or six eggs. The young birds are of a brown tint, and have the feathers tipped with yellow, which gives them a spotted appearance. Until they acquire the red breast, they are very unlike the parents, and might be mistaken for young Thrushes, except that they are much smaller. They may be often observed in gardens for many days after they have left the nest, keeping together, perching in the bushes, and clamorous for food, which the old birds bring to them from time to time. It is said, that only one brood is reared in a year, but this I am inclined to doubt, having observed in the same locality families of young birds early in the spring, and late in the summer of the same year. Towards the end of August, the young birds acquire the distinctive plumage of their species, and are solitary in their habits until the succeeding spring. The call-notes of the Redbreast are numerous, and vary beyond the power of description in written words; the song is loud, and it is needless to say, pleasing, and possesses the charm of being continued when all our other feathered songsters are mute. The red of the breast often has a brighter tint, it is occasionally almost a carmine red. The late Lord Lilford told the editor such were often birds that had been bred on the Continent. Numbers of young birds come across the sea to us each autumn.

THE NIGHTINGALE

DAULIAS LUSCÍNIA

Upper plumage russet brown; tail bright rust-red; under plumage buffish white; flanks pale ash colour. Length six and a quarter inches; breadth nine and a half inches. Eggs uniform olive-brown.

The southern, eastern, and some of the midland counties of England, enjoy a privilege which is denied to the northern and western—an annual visit, namely, from the Nightingale. It is easy enough to understand why a southern bird should bound its travels northwards by a certain parallel, but why it should keep aloof from Devon and Cornwall, the climate of which approaches more closely to that of its favourite continental haunts than many of the districts to which it unfailingly resorts, is not so clear. Several reasons have been assigned—one, that cowslips do not grow in these counties; this may be dismissed at once as purely fanciful; another is, that the soil is too rocky; this is not founded on fact, for both Devon and Cornwall abound in localities which would be to Nightingales a perfect Paradise, if they would only come; a third is, that the proper food is not to be found there: but this reason cannot be admitted until it is proved that the portions of the island to which the Nightingale does resort abound in some kind of insect food which is not to be found in the extreme southern counties, and that the Nightingale, instead of being, as it is supposed, a general insect-eater, confines itself to that one; and this is a view of the question which no one has ventured to take. My own theory—and I only throw it out for consideration—is that the Nightingale is not found in these two counties on account of their peculiar geographical position. The continental Nightingales are observed to take their departure in autumn, either eastward through Hungary, Dalmatia, Greece, and the islands of the Archipelago; or southwards across the Straits of Gibraltar, but none by the broad part of the Mediterranean. Hence we may infer that the bird dislikes a long sea voyage, and that when in spring it migrates northward and westward, it crosses the English Channel at the narrowest parts only,[3] spreads itself over the nearest counties in the direction of its migration, but is instinctively prevented from turning so far back again to the south as the south-west peninsula of England. From Scotland it would be naturally excluded by its northern position, and from Ireland by the Welsh mountains and the broad sea.

For the dwellers in these unfavoured districts alone is my description of the Nightingale intended; for, where it abounds, its habits are too well known to need any description. Twenty-four hours of genial May weather spent in the country with a good use of the eyes and ears, will reveal more of the life and habits of the bird than is contained in all the ornithological treatises that have been written on the subject, and they are not a few.

No great amount of caution is necessary in approaching the Nightingale while singing at night. One may walk unrestrainedly across the fields, talking in an ordinary tone of voice, and not even find it necessary to suppress conversation when close to a singing bird. Either he is too intent on his occupation to detect the presence of strangers, or he is aware of the security in which he is wrapped by the shades of night, or he is actually proud of having listeners. In the neighbourhood of my present residence in Hertfordshire, Nightingales are numerous. They arrive about the seventeenth of April, and for the first few days assemble year after year in the bushes and hedges of a certain hillside, the position of which it would be unsafe to indicate particularly, and taking their station two or three hundred yards apart from each other, set up a rivalry of song which is surpassingly beautiful. At this season, one may hear five or six chanting at once; every break in the song of the nearest being filled up by the pipings or wailings of the more distant ones. The male birds arrive several days before the female, and employ the interval, it is fancifully said, in contending for the prize in a musical contest. This period is anxiously watched for by bird-catchers, who have learnt by experience that birds entrapped before they have paired will bear confinement in a cage, but that those captured after the arrival of their mates pine to death. The Nightingale being a fearless bird and of an inquisitive nature is easily snared; hence, in the neighbourhood of cities, the earliest and therefore strongest birds fall ready victims to the fowler's art.

It must not be supposed that this bird sings by night only. Every day and all day long, from his first arrival until the young are hatched (when it becomes his duty to provide for his family), perched in a hedge or on the branch of a tree, rarely at any considerable height from the ground, he pours forth his roundelay, now, however, obscured by the song of other birds. But not even by day is he shy, for he will allow any quietly disposed person to approach near enough to him to watch the movement of his bill and heaving chest. At the approach of night he becomes silent, generally discontinuing his song about an hour before the Thrush, and resuming it between ten and eleven. It is a disputed point whether the Nightingale's song should be considered joyous or melancholy. This must always remain a question of taste. My own opinion is, that the piteous wailing note which is its most characteristic nature, casts a shade of sadness as it were over the whole song, even those portions which gush with the most exuberant gladness. I think, too, though my assertion may seem a barbarous one, that if the Nightingale's song comprised the wailing notes alone, it would be universally shunned as the most painfully melancholy sound in nature. From this, however, it is redeemed by the rapid transition, just when the anguish of the bird has arrived at such a pitch as to be no longer supportable, to a passage overflowing with joy and gladness. In the first or second week of June he ceases his song altogether. His cataract of sweet sounds is exhausted, and his only remaining note is a harsh croak exactly resembling that of a frog, or the subdued note of a raven, wate-wate or cur-cur. On one occasion only I have heard him in full song so late as the fourth week in June: but this probably was a bird whose first nest had been destroyed, and whose song consequently had been retarded until the hatching of a second brood. From this time until the end of August, when he migrates eastward, he may often be observed picking up grubs, worms, and ants' eggs on the garden lawn, or under a hedge in fields, hopping from place to place with an occasional shake of the wings and raising of the tail, and conspicuous whenever he takes one of his short flights by his chestnut brown tail-coverts.

The Nightingale's nest is constructed of dead leaves, principally of the oak, loosely put together and placed on the ground under a bush. Internally it is lined with grass, roots, and a few hairs. It contains four or five eggs of a uniform olive-brown.

[3] This is the opinion of Gilbert White.

Sub-Family ACCENTORINÆ

THE HEDGE SPARROW

ACCENTOR MODULÁRIS

Crown of the head ash colour, with brown streaks; sides of the neck, throat, and breast, bluish grey; bill strong and broad at base; wing-coverts and feathers on the back reddish brown, with a tawny spot in the centre; middle wing-coverts tipped with yellowish white; lower tail-coverts brown, with a whitish border; middle of abdomen white. Length five and a half inches. Eggs greenish blue, without spots.

Inveterate custom has so attached the name of Hedge Sparrow to this bird, that in spite of all the efforts of ornithologists to convince the world that it is no sparrow at all (a hard-beaked, grain-eating bird), but a true warbler, it is still more frequently called by its popular name than by any of those that have been suggested. The gentle, innocent, confiding, little brown bird, which creeps like a mouse through our garden flower-beds, picks up a meagre fare in our roads and lanes, builds its nest in our thorn hedges, and though dingy itself, lays such brilliant blue eggs, has been known to us from our infancy as a 'Hedge Sparrow', and we decline any innovation: the name is a time-honoured one, and no one will mistake us. Hedge Accentor, Hedge Warbler, and Shuffle-wing, are names open to those who prefer them, but we adhere to the old-fashioned designation of Hedge Sparrow. This bird is a genuine Warbler, and one of the few belonging to the tribe who remain with us all the winter; we should suppose, indeed, that he never wandered far from the place of his birth. At all seasons his habits and food appear to be the same. All day long he is shuffling about on the ground picking up minute atoms, whether seeds or insects, who knows? Every day, nearly all the year round, he repairs at intervals to the nearest hedge, where he sings a song, soft and gentle like himself; and every evening, when the Blackbird rings his curfew bell, he fails not to respond with his drowsy cheep, cheep, as he repairs to the bush he has selected for his night's rest. Very early in spring, before his brother warblers have arrived from the south, he has chosen his mate, built his snug nest, and too probably commenced a second; for unsuspicious in nature, he does not retire to solitary places for this purpose, and the leafless hedges but ill conceal his labours from the peering eyes of all-destroying ploughboys. Such are nearly all his "short and simple annals". He quarrels with no one, he achieves no distinction, throwing no one into ecstasies with his song, and stealing no one's fruit; unobtrusive and innocent, he claims no notice, and dreads no resentment; and so, through all the even tenor of his way, he is, without knowing it, the favourite of children, and of all the good and gentle.

Sub-Family SYLVIINÆ

THE WHITETHROAT

SYLVIA CINÉREA

Head ash-grey; rest of the upper parts grey, tinged with rust colour; wings dusky, the coverts edged with red; lower parts white, faintly tinged on the breast with rose colour; tail dark brown, the outer feather white at the tip and on the outer web, the next only tipped with white. Female without the rose tint on the breast, but with the upper plumage more decidedly tinged with red; feet brown. Length five inches and a half; breadth eight and a half. Eggs greenish white, thickly spotted with reddish and greenish brown. Young, leaving nest, differ very little from adult birds.

The Whitethroat is in England the most common of all the migratory warblers, and is generally diffused. It is essentially a hedge-bird, neither taking long flights nor resorting to lofty trees. Early in May it may be detected in a hawthorn or other thick bush, hopping from twig to twig with untiring restlessness, frequently descending to the ground, but never making any stay, and all the while incessantly babbling with a somewhat harsh but not unpleasant song, composed of numerous rapid and short notes, which have but little either of variety or compass. Occasionally it takes a short flight along the hedge, generally on the side farthest from the spectator, and proceeds to another bush a few yards on, where it either repeats the same movements, or perches on a high twig for a few seconds. From time to time it rises into the air, performing curious antics and singing all the while. Its short flight completed, it descends to the same or an adjoining twig; and so it seems to spend its days. From its habit of creeping through the lower parts of hedges, it has received the popular name of 'Nettle-creeper'. From the grey tone of its plumage, it is in some districts of France called 'Grisette', and in others, from its continuous song, 'Babillarde', names, however, which are popularly applied without distinction to this species and the next. While singing it keeps the feathers of its head erected, resembling in this respect the Blackcap and several of the other warblers. Though not naturally a nocturnal musician, it does not, like most other birds, when disturbed at night, quietly steal away to another place of shelter, but bursts into repeated snatches of song, into which there seems to be infused a spice of anger against the intruder.[4] Its food consists of insects of various kinds; but when the smaller fruits begin to ripen, it repairs with its young brood to our gardens, and makes no small havoc among raspberries, currants, and cherries. It constructs its nest among brambles and nettles, raised from two to three feet from the ground, of bents and the dry stems of herbs, mixed with cobweb, cotton from the willow, bits of wool, and horsehair. It usually lays five eggs.

[4] This night song is rarely heard except in the months of May and June.

THE LESSER WHITETHROAT

SYLVIA CURRÚCA

Head and lore dark ash-grey; rest of the upper parts greyish ash, tinged with brown; wings brown, edged with ash-grey; tail dusky, outer feather as in the last, the two next tipped with white; lower parts pure silvery white; feet deep lead colour. Length five inches and a quarter. Eggs greenish white, spotted and speckled, especially at the larger end, with ash and brown.

Gilbert White in his charming history says, "A rare, and I think a new little bird frequents my garden, which I have very great reason to think is the Pettichaps; it is common in some parts of the kingdom; and I have received formerly dead specimens from Gibraltar. This bird much resembles the Whitethroat, but has a more white, or rather silvery breast and belly; is restless and active, like the Willow-wrens, and hops from bough to bough, examining every part for food; it also runs up the stems of the crown-imperials, and, putting its head into the bells of those flowers, sips the liquor which stands in the nectarium of each petal. Sometimes it feeds on the ground like the Hedge-Sparrow, by hopping about on the grass plots and mown walks." The little bird of which the amiable naturalist gives so interesting a description, was, there is little doubt, that which is now called the Lesser Whitethroat, then a 'new bird', inasmuch as it had not been made a distinct species, and necessarily a 'rare bird', not because a few only visited Britain, but because, until his time set the example, competent observers of birds were rare. It differs externally from the preceding, in its smaller size, and the darker colour of its beak, upper plumage, and feet, and resembles it closely in its habits, though I have never observed that it indulges in the eccentric perpendicular flights, which have gained for its congener, the Greater Whitethroat, the quaint sobriquet of 'singing skyrocket.' It feeds, too, on insects, and is not found wanting when raspberries and cherries are ripe. But no matter what number of these it consumes, it ought with its companions to be welcomed by the gardener as one of his most valuable friends. For it should be borne in mind, that these birds, by consuming a portion of a crop of ripe fruit, do not at all injure the trees, but that the countless aphides and caterpillars which they devoured at an earlier period of the year, would, if they had been allowed to remain, have feasted on the leaves and young shoots, and so not only have imperilled the coming crop, but damaged the tree so materially as to impair its fertility for some time to come. Those birds, therefore, which in spring feed on insects and nourish their young on the same diet, may be considered as necessary to protect from injury the trees which are destined to supply them with support when insect food becomes scarce. Consider what would be the result if the proper food of birds were leaves, or if insects were permitted to devour the foliage unchecked! our woods would be leafless, our gardens would become deserts.

THE GARDEN WARBLER

SYLVIA HORTENSIS

Upper parts greyish brown, slightly tinged with olive; orbits white; below the ear a patch of ash-grey; throat dull white; breast and flanks grey, tinged with rust colour; rest of the under parts dull white. Length five inches and three-quarters; breadth eight and a half. Eggs greenish white, speckled with two shades of greenish brown.

Though tolerably well dispersed throughout England, this bird is by no means so abundant as the Blackcap, which it resembles in size and habits, but it arrives later, coming early in May. It is very local. Its song is little if at all inferior to that of the bird just named, and it is far from improbable that some of the sweet strains for which the Blackcap gets credit, particularly late in the summer, may be produced by the Garden Warbler; I have heard its song so late as the fifth of October. By some authors it is called the Greater Pettychaps, by others the Fauvette, which latter name is by some French ornithologists applied to the group containing this bird and several allied species. Its nest and eggs are so like those of the Blackcap as to be discriminated with difficulty.

THE BLACKCAP

SYLVIA ATRICAPILLA

Top and back of the head black, in the female chocolate colour; upper parts, wings, and tail ash-grey, slightly tinged with olive; neck light grey passing into greyish white; bill and feet black. Length five inches and a half; breadth eight and a half. Eggs pale greenish white, variously mottled with several shades of brown; sometimes pinkish, mottled with light purple, and speckled with dark purple.

Whatever difference of opinion there may be as to the character of the Nightingale's song—whether it partakes more of joyousness or of melancholy—the gladsomeness of the Blackcap's warble is beyond all dispute. Conceding to the Nightingale the first place among the warblers which visit England, we do not hesitate to claim the second for the Blackcap. Its song is inferior in power and compass to that of the bird of night, but there is about it a delicious eloquence which makes it irresistibly charming. White of Selborne describes it as "full, sweet, deep, loud and wild"; high but not unmerited praise. If there are no vocal efforts to astonish, there are no piteous wailings to distress, and though the bird retires to rest at a reasonable hour, it continues its song until a late period of the season, long after that of the Nightingale has degenerated to a croak. It has been compared to that of the Redbreast, but it is more mellow and flute-like; to that of the Thrush, but it is softer and of more compass; to that of the Lark, but it is more varied. A practised ear will confound it with neither of these, though, strange to say, many persons who have lived all their lives in the country and who take much interest in its pleasant sights and sounds, habitually confound it with the song of one or other of these birds, not knowing to whom they are indebted for one of the principal charms of their gardens. The Blackcap, like several other of the migratory warblers, returns again and again to its old haunts. For six successive years it has been known to build its nest in a bramble which hung down from a rock in a public garden; and for even a longer period my own garden has been annually visited by a pair who, from unfailingly resorting to the same bushes, must, I have little doubt, be the same pair, though I cannot say that I have found or even searched for their nest. On its first arrival in April, the Blackcap is in the habit of what bird-fanciers call 'recording'—that is, practising over its song in a low tone. During this season of rehearsal it does not care to be seen, but hides away in a thick bush. It is nevertheless by no means shy of being heard, as it will allow the listener to approach within a few yards of its hiding-place without stopping its song, and if disturbed will remove to a very little distance and recommence. After a few days it acquires its full powers of voice.

Its song is now remarkable among the full choir for sweetness, loudness, and long continuance. Its food at this time consists of aphides, caterpillars, and other small insects which infest roses and fruit-trees; it rarely captures flies on the wing or descends to feed on the ground. In June it begins to sing shorter strains, but with no diminished power. It may then be observed flying from branch to branch of an apple-tree, resting for a few seconds only in the same spot, and busily occupied in collecting grubs or aphides, then indulging in a short strain. In July, when the raspberries ripen, the Blackcap becomes chary of its song, and introduces its young brood to the choicest and juiciest fruit; in their attentions to which both old and young birds are exceedingly pertinacious, holding scarecrows in extreme contempt, and heeding clapping of hands or the discharge of a gun as little. The young of the first year resemble the adult female in having a chocolate-coloured crown. The song of the Blackcap may be heard occasionally late in the summer; in September or October both old and young take their departure, and the Redbreast is left without a rival to assert his superiority as a warbler, until the return of spring. The nest is usually placed in a hedge or low bush, a few feet from the ground, and is constructed of bents, and lined with fibrous roots and hair. The male bird assists the female in performing the office of incubation, and is said to relieve the monotony of his occupation by singing, thus often betraying a well-concealed nest.

THE DARTFORD WARBLER

SYLVIA UNDATA

Upper parts blackish brown; under, purplish red; middle of the abdomen white; tail long, dark brown, the outer feather tipped with white; wings very short; quills ash-grey on the inner web, dark brown on the outer; feet yellowish; bill yellowish white, with a black tip. Length five inches and a half. Eggs greenish white, speckled all over, and especially at the larger end, with brown and ash-grey.

This species received its name from having been first shot on Bexley Heath, near Dartford in 1773. It has since been observed on furzy commons in several of the southern and western counties, but is local and nowhere abundant. In its habits it resembles the Stone and Furze Chats, perching on the upper sprays of the furze and whitehorn, but never still for a minute, throwing itself into various attitudes, erecting its crest and tail at intervals, frequently rising into the air with most fantastic movements, catching insects on the wing, and either returning to the same twig, or making a short flight to some other convenient bush. The syllables 'cha cha cha' are several times repeated when the bird is irritated. Its note is commonly Pitchou, hence its French name. It keeps quite aloof from human habitations, and is so timid that on the approach of an observer, it creeps into a bush, and remains concealed until the danger is past. The nest of goose grass and soft bits of furze, wool and moss is placed in the fork of a furze-bush selected for its thickness and difficulty of access. It is somewhat wandering, but may be called a resident in the South, gradually extending northwards. Many specimens have been observed in mid-winter, and Rennie states that he has seen one as early as the end of February hovering over furze and singing like a Whitethroat.

THE REED WARBLER

ACROCÉPHALUS STRÉPERUS

Upper parts of a uniform reddish brown, without spots; wing-feathers brown, edged with olive; a white streak between (not over) the eye and bill; throat white; under plumage yellowish white, the sides tinged with reddish; tail long, rounded. Length five and a half inches; breadth seven and a half. Eggs dull greenish white, speckled with olive and light brown, especially towards the larger end.

Both the Sedge and the Reed warblers are jaseuses, or chatterers, with rounded tails; but the Sedge Warbler has its upper plumage spotted with dark brown, and a white line above its eye, while the upper plumage of the Reed Warbler is of a uniform pale brown, and the light mark is absent from above the eye. The haunts and habits of the two birds are precisely similar, but the Reed Warbler is by far the less common of the two; for while the Sedge Warbler is sure to be found wherever the Reed Warbler has been observed, the converse by no means follows. The parts of England in which it appears to be most frequent, are East Riding of Yorkshire, Essex, Surrey, Kent, Suffolk, and Norfolk. In the reed-beds on the banks of the Thames, between Erith and Greenwich, it is common.

"The nest of the Reed Warbler is often elegantly built, and generally fixed to three or four reed-stems. It is composed of slender blades of grass, interwoven with reed-tops, dry duckweed, and the spongy substance which covers many of the marsh ditches; and, here and there, a long piece of sedge is wound securely around it; the lining is of the finer flowering stems of grass, intermixed with a little horsehair. It is a deep and solid structure, so that the eggs cannot easily roll out; it is firmly fastened to the reeds in tidal ditches and rivers, at the height of three or four feet from the water, but in still ditches often not more than a foot. In windy weather, when wading through the reed-beds, I have seen nests, with both old and young in them, blown nearly to the surface of the water; but the birds fix their claws firmly to the sides of the nest, with their heads to windward, and thus ride as securely in their cradle as a sailor does in his cot or hammock."[5] The Cuckoo occasionally chooses the Reed Warbler's nest to lay its eggs in, for the same writer remarks—"At the latter end of July, 1829, while reading in my garden, which adjoins a market garden, I was agreeably surprised to see a young Cuckoo, nearly full-grown, alight on the railings between the two, not more than a dozen yards from where I was sitting. Anxious to see what bird had reared this Cuckoo, I silently watched his movements, and had not waited more than a minute, when a Reed Warbler flew to the Cuckoo, who, crouching down with his breast close to the rail, and fluttering his wings, opened wide his orange-coloured mouth to receive the insect his foster-mother had brought him. This done, the Reed Warbler flew away for a fresh supply of food. The difference in the size of the two birds was great; it was like a pigmy feeding a giant. While the Reed Warbler was absent, the Cuckoo shuffled along the rail, and hopped upon a slender post to which it was nailed, and which projected about eight inches above the rail. The Reed Warbler soon returned with more food, and alighted close to the Cuckoo, but on the rail beneath him; she then began to stretch herself to the utmost to give him the food, but was unable to reach the Cuckoo's mouth, who, like a simpleton, threw his head back, with his mouth wide open, as before. The Reed Warbler, by no means at a loss, perched upon the Cuckoo's broad back, who, still holding back his head, received in this singular way the morsel brought for him." The song of the Reed Warbler is loudest and at its best during the evening twilight.

[5] Mr. W. H. Thomas, in the Zoologist, p. 97.

MARSH WARBLER

ACROCÉPHALUS PALUSTRIS

Upper parts olive-green without any reddish tinge; legs and feet pale brown.

The Marsh Warbler is local in its occurrence, in the south of England. It nests in drier places than the Reed Warbler and its song is different, being much more melodious, and uttered more boldly. Close to low bushes, or among meadow-sweet, nettles and cow-parsnip, you may find its nest, which is made of fine rounded stalks of grass and lined with horsehair. There are five to seven eggs, whiter in ground colour than those of the Reed Warbler. The Marsh Warbler comes each spring to the neighbourhood of Taunton, but it is still a somewhat rare species.

THE SEDGE WARBLER

ACROCÉPHALUS PHRAGMÍTIS

Upper plumage olive-grey, the centre of each feather tinged with brown; above the eyes a broad yellowish white stripe; under, yellowish white, more or less tinged with red; throat white; tail rounded, of moderate length, of a uniform ash-brown. Length four and a half inches; breadth seven and a half. Eggs dirty white, mottled all over with dull yellowish brown.

On the banks of reedy and bushy rivers, in marshes, withy holts, wherever, in fact, there is fresh water associated with enough vegetation to shelter and conceal, this bustling little bird is a constant summer visitor; restless in its habits, and courting notice by its twittering song, from the time of its arrival to that of its departure. It is usually first detected by its rapidly repeated note, which it utters while performing its short flights from bush to bush, and while creeping in and out among reeds and rushes. The fisherman knows it well, and is often tempted to withdraw his eye from his fly or float, to watch its movements on the opposite bank. From its unceasing babble, ploughboys call it a 'chat', a name which exactly answers to the French name of the group to which it belongs—'Jaseuses'. Its note is remarkable neither for volume nor sweetness, and, like that of unfeathered chatterers, seems to carry more noise than meaning. To a certain extent the bird is a mimic, as it imitates such notes of other birds as are within the compass of its little throat. I was walking one morning in May by the banks of a canal not far from a village, when I remarked the exact resemblance between a portion of its song and the chirrup of a House Sparrow. Intermixed with this, I detected the note of some other bird; but, familiar though it sounded, I ransacked my memory in vain to discover from whom it was purloined. Pursuing my walk towards the houses, I heard the note of some Guinea-fowls; not the 'come-back' cry, but the 'click-click' which every one knows so well. Of this the Sedge Warbler had caught exactly both the key and the time; the two notes were in fact identical, except that they were performed on instruments of different calibre. Like other chatterers, who, when they have finished their song, are easily provoked to begin again, the Sedge Warbler, if he does occasionally retire to a bed of reeds and there holds his peace, may be excited to repeat his whole story over again, with variations and additions, by flinging a stone into his breathing-place. And not content with babbling all day, he extends his loquacity far into the night; hence he has been called the Sedge Nightingale, but with doubtful propriety, for, with all the will perhaps to vie with that prince of songsters, the zinzinare of the Nightingale is far beyond his powers. Yet in spite of his obtrusiveness, he is an amusing and a pleasant companion to the wanderer by the river's side: his rivalry is devoid of malice, and his mimicry gives no one pain. While at rest—if he is ever to be detected in this state—he may be distinguished from all other birds frequenting similar haunts by his rounded tail, and a light narrow mark over each eye. His food consists of worms, insects, and fresh-water mollusks, for which he hunts among the stems of aquatic plants. As an architect, he displays great skill, constructing his nest among low bushes, never at any great distance from the water, about a foot from the ground. It is composed of stems and leaves of dead grass, moss and fine roots, and lined with hair, wool, feathers, and the down of various marsh plants. The structure is large, compact, and deep, suspended from, rather than built on, its supports. The eggs are usually five or six in number, though as many as seven have been sometimes found.

THE GRASSHOPPER WARBLER

LOCUSTELLA NÆVIA

Upper parts light brown, with a tinge of green, and presenting a spotted appearance, owing to the centres of the feathers being darkest; tail long, rounded at the extremity and tapering towards the base; under parts whitish brown, the breast marked with darker spots; feet and toes light brown. Length five and a half inches; breadth seven and a half. Eggs reddish white, closely speckled with darker red.

As long ago as the time when a stroll of five-and-twenty miles fatigued me less than a journey of ten does now—when I returned from my botanical rambles with tin boxes, hands and pockets, laden with stores of flowers, ferns, and mosses, my homeward path often led me through a certain valley and wood on the skirts of Dartmoor, known by the names of Bickleigh Vale and Fancy Wood. It often happened that twilight was fading into gloom when I reached this stage in my wanderings—the last of the evening songsters had hushed its note; for this county, beautiful as it is, offers not sufficient attraction to the Nightingale; yet I never passed this way under such circumstances without feeling myself compelled to stop once and again to listen to the monotonous whir of what I had been told, and what I believed to be the note of the large green grasshopper, or locust. Monotonous is, perhaps, not the right word to use, for an acute ear can detect in the long unmusical jar a cadence descending sometimes a semitone, and occasionally almost a whole note; and it seemed besides to increase in loudness for a few seconds and then to subside a little below the ordinary pitch; this fall is chiefly at the breeding season. Whether the difference was produced by a rising and lulling of the breeze, or whether the musician actually altered its note and intensity of noise (or must I call it music?), I could never decide. As long as I fancied the performer to be an insect, I was inclined to believe that one of the first suppositions was correct; for it seemed hardly possible that the purely mechanical action of an insect's thighs against its body could produce variety of sound—as well expect varied intonations from a mill-wheel or saw-pit. Attentive observation, and the knowledge that the noise in question proceeded not from the exterior of an insect, but from the throat of a bird, has led me to form another conclusion. I am not surprised at my having fallen into the error; for the song of this bird is but an exaggeration of the grasshopper's note, and resembles the noise produced by pulling out the line from the winch of a fishing-rod, no less continuous is it, nor more melodious. Many years afterwards, when the memory of these pleasant wanderings had faded away, I happened one evening in May to be passing across a common in Hertfordshire, skirted by a hedge of brushwood, when the old familiar sound fell on my ear like a forgotten nursery melody. The trees not being in their full foliage, I was not without hope that I might be able to get a sight of the performer, whom I now knew to be a bird, and I crept quietly towards the spot whence the noise proceeded. Had it been singing in a copse-wood instead of a hedge, I should certainly have failed, for there is the same peculiarity about its note that there is about that of the insect—you cannot make up your mind exactly whereabouts the instrument which makes the noise is at work. The note, when near, is continuous, monotonous, and of equal loudness throughout; it might be a minute spinning-wheel revolving rapidly, or a straw pipe with a pea in it blown with a single breath and then suddenly stopping. But whether the performance is going on exactly before you, a little to the right, or a little to the left, it is hard to decide. I approached to within a few yards of the hedge, and peered through the hazel rods, now decorated with drooping tufts of plaited leaves, but all in vain. I went a step or two nearer; the sound ceased, and the movement of a twig directed my attention towards a particular bush, on which I saw a little bird, about as big as a Hedge Sparrow, quietly and cautiously dropping branch by branch to the ground. In a few minutes I observed it again a few yards off, creeping with a movement resembling that of the Nuthatch up another bush. Having reached to nearly the summit it became motionless, stretched out its neck, and keeping its mandibles continuously open and slightly elevated, commenced its trill again; then it shuffled about for some seconds and repeated the strain. It now seemed to descry me, and dropping to the ground as before, reappeared a few yards off. I fancied that while actually singing its feathers were ruffled; but in the imperfect twilight I could not decide positively. That it kept its mandibles motionless while singing, I had no doubt. Half an hour afterwards, at a quarter to eight, I returned from my walk, and observed it several times go through precisely the same manœuvres. On no occasion did it make a long flight, but even when I scared it by throwing a stone into the hedge near it, it merely dropped to the ground, and in a minute or two was piping from another bush. I have not found, as some authors say, that it resorts only to the vicinity of watery places. The one which I saw on this occasion had located itself for the summer several miles from a stream; and others which I have heard night after night had settled down on the skirts of a dry common, watered only by the clouds. Its nest I have sought for in vain.

THE CHIFF-CHAFF

PHYLLOSCOPUS RUFUS

Upper parts olive-green tinged with yellow; above the eyes a narrow, faint, yellowish, white streak; under parts yellowish white; feathers of the leg dirty white; second primary equal to the seventh; third, fourth, fifth, and sixth with the outer web sloped off at the extremity; under wing-coverts primrose-yellow; feet slender; legs nearly black. Length four inches and a half; breadth seven and a quarter. Eggs white, sparingly spotted with dark purple.

Whatever question there may be whether the name of Willow-warbler be appropriately applied to the last species, there can be no doubt that the Chiff-chaff is well named. Let any one be asked in the month of May to walk into a wood and to hold up his hand when he heard a bird call itself by its own name, 'Chiff-chaff', he could not possibly fall into an error. The bird is so common that it would be difficult to walk a mile in a woodland district without passing near one or more, and having little to say, it seems never weary of repeating its tale, 'Chiff, chaff, cheff, chiff, chaff': the syllables have a harsh sound pronounced by human lips, but when chanted in the silvery notes of a little bird, in the season of primroses and wild hyacinths, and accompanied by the warble of the Hay-bird, the full song of the Thrush, and the whistle of the Blackbird, they contribute not a little to the harmony of the woods.

For two successive years a little yellowish bird, scarcely bigger than a wren, has established himself in my garden about the middle of April, and sedulously devoted himself to clearing away the aphides which infested some China roses trained against the walls of my house. Occasionally he would flutter against the windows, and give his attention to the spiders and gnats which nestled in the corners of the panes. The first year I took him for a Hay-bird, but, only too grateful for his kind offices, I was careful not to molest him. When, however, he appeared a second year, exactly at the same season, and performed a series of manœuvres so precisely similar that it was impossible to doubt that the bird was not merely of the same species, but the same individual, I watched him more closely. The dark colour of his feet, as observed from within the house, as he was fluttering against the glass, decided the point that he was not a Hay-bird, and when he retired to an apple-tree hard by and treated himself to a song after his repast, no doubt remained that he was a Chiff-chaff. It is not often that the Chiff-chaff is thus familiar in its habits. More frequently it makes its abode in woods and groves, resembling the Hay-bird so closely in size, colour and habits, that to distinguish the two is very difficult. The difference of note, however, is decisive; and the colour of the feet (when the bird is near enough to admit of being thus distinguished) is another certain criterion. The two birds frequent the same trees without rivalry or jealousy. The Chiff-chaff is the earliest of our spring visitors, arriving the middle of March, and it sings all through the summer; I have heard it as late as the thirtieth of September. The nests, popularly called 'wood-ovens', are alike and placed in similar situations; their eggs are of the same size and shape, but those of the Chiff-chaff are spotted with very dark purple instead of rust colour. A few occasionally remain with us all the year, feeding on winter gnats and the pupæ of small insects, but remaining wholly silent. Other names by which it is known are 'Chip-chop' and Lesser Pettichaps.

THE WILLOW-WARBLER

PHYLLOSCOPUS TRÓCHILUS

Upper parts bright olive-green; a narrow streak of yellow over the eye; under parts yellowish white, palest in the middle; feathers of the leg yellow; second primary equal to the sixth; third, fourth, and fifth with the outer web sloped off at the extremity; feet stoutish; legs light brown. Length nearly five inches; breadth eight. Eggs white, more or less speckled with rust colour.

There seems to be no sufficient reason why this bird should be named Willow-warbler or Willow-wren, as it shows no special preference for willows, nor does it frequent watery places. The popular name, 'Hay-bird', is, I think, the better of the two; for, except in the extreme west of England, wherever there are hayfields and trees these birds are to be found; they build their nests principally of hay, and very frequently place it in the border of a hay-field. But, by whatever name it is known, it is a cheerful and active little bird, to which our woods and groves are much indebted for their melody. It is abundant and generally diffused, arriving in England early in April, and remaining until the middle of September. During the greater part of this period, it may be seen fluttering about the tops of trees, hunting the twigs and leaves for insects, and occasionally catching flies on the wing. It often, too, descends to the ground, and picks up insects among the herbage. I have never heard it sing on the ground; but while employing itself aloft, it rarely allows more than a few minutes to elapse without going through its short and sweet song. This, though very agreeable, possesses no great variety, and is composed of about twenty or thirty notes, the latter ones of which are repeated rapidly, and form a natural cadence. For many years this pleasant little melody, or the simpler song of the Chiff-chaff, has been the first sound I have heard to announce the arrival of the summer birds of passage; perhaps it is on this account that it is with me, at all seasons, a favourite rural sound.

Ornithologists seem well agreed that the Willow-warbler's food consists entirely of insects. This may be so, but I am much mistaken if a brood of this species annually hatched in a bank of furze adjoining my garden, do not, in conjunction with Blackcaps and Whitethroats, pay daily visits to a certain row of red raspberries in my garden. It may be that they come only in quest of aphides, but I have certainly seen them in dangerous proximity to clusters of the ripest fruit, which, when they were scared away, bore evident marks of having been pecked by birds. The nest of the Hay-bird resembles that of the Wood-warbler, but it is lined with feathers. The eggs are usually from five to seven, and of the same size and shape, but the spots are rust-coloured and limited in number.

THE WOOD-WREN

PHYLLOSCOPUS SIBILÁTRIX

Upper plumage bright yellowish green; a broad streak of sulphur-yellow over the eye; sides of the head, throat, insertion of the wings and legs bright yellow; rest of the under plumage pure white; second primary equal to the fourth, third and fourth with the outer web sloped off at the extremity; legs pale brown. Length five inches and a half; breadth eight and three quarters. Eggs white, speckled so thickly with purplish brown as almost to conceal the ground.

The Wood-warbler, Willow-warbler, and Chiff-chaff resemble each other so closely in size, colour, and habits, that except by a practised observer, they are likely to be mistaken for one another. In song, however, they differ materially, and as this is begun early, and continued till very late in the season, it affords ready means of discriminating the species. The Wood-warbler, or Wood-wren as it is now called, arrives in England towards the end of April, and betakes itself to woodland districts, where it spends the greater portion of its time among the upper branches of lofty trees, constantly moving from place to place with rapid irregular flight, and frequently repeating its short and peculiar song. It feeds exclusively on insects, which it occasionally catches on the wing. Its song is difficult to describe. The name by which it is popularly known in some parts of France, Touïte, is derived from the syllable 'tweet', which, rapidly and continuously repeated many times, constitutes its song. These notes are uttered in a sweet tone, and with a tremulous accent, and are unlike those of any other bird. Gilbert White, who appears to have been the first who noticed the bird, describes it as "joyous, easy, and laughing". The last notes of its strain are accompanied by a quivering of the wings and tail, which accounts for their tremulous sound.

The Wood-warbler is much less frequent than either the Willow-warbler or Chiff-chaff, and on a close inspection may be distinguished by its superior size, by the pure white of its under tail-coverts, and by the bright yellow line above the eye. The nest is composed of grass, ferns, and moss, and lined with fine grass and hair; it is covered with a dome, an entrance being left sufficiently large to allow its contents to be seen, and is placed on the ground, in or near a wood, among thick herbage, or against the stump of a tree. The eggs are from five to seven in number, almost round, and so thickly spotted with purple-brown that the ground is almost invisible.

Sub-Family REGULINÆ

THE GOLD-CREST

RÉGULUS CRISTÁTUS

Upper parts olive, tinged with yellow; cheeks ash colour, without streaks; wing greyish brown, with two transverse white bands; crest bright yellow, tipped with orange and bounded on each side by a black line; under parts yellowish grey. In the female the crest is lemon colour, and the other tints are less brilliant. Each nostril is covered by one buff feather. Length three inches and a half. Eggs cream colour, minutely mottled at one end.

The Gold-crest, Golden-crested Regulus, or Golden-crested Wren, though not exceeding in dimensions some of the larger humming-birds, and though decorated with a crest equalling in brilliancy of colour the gay plumage of tropical birds, is a hardy little fellow, able to bear without shrinking the cold of an English winter, and to keep his position among the branches of high trees in the stormiest weather. Even during a heavy gale I have watched Gold-crests fluttering from branch to branch, and busily hunting for food, though the trees were waving like reeds. They are most numerous in winter, as a considerable number migrate southwards in October, but a great many remain with us all the year, preferring those districts where there are fir-plantations. Their whole life is spent in the air; I at least have never observed one on the ground. Their food consists of the insects which infest the leaves and twigs of trees; and I have seen them capture small moths on the wing. While hunting for food, which appears to be all day long, they are never still, fluttering from branch to branch, hanging in all attitudes, and peering in all directions. From time to time they utter their thin and wiry call-note, which is by some compared to the cry of the Shrew. It might be mistaken for the jarring noise made by two branches which cross one another, or that of a damp finger rubbed lightly along a pane of glass. Early in spring the song commences; it is composed of about fifteen short notes, rapidly uttered at an exceedingly high pitch, and ending with a yet more rapid cadence. By the call-note or song the vicinity of the bird is far more frequently detected than by its actual appearance; for the branches of firs in woods are mostly at a considerable height from the ground, and our 'little king' (saving his majesty) is hard to be distinguished from a fir-cone, except when he is in motion. Gold-crests are eminently social birds; they generally hunt in parties of half a dozen or more, and do not often change their hunting-ground; at least I infer as much from the fact that on various occasions I have observed the same bird on the same clump of trees, at intervals extending over several weeks. I could scarcely have been mistaken in the identity of the bird, as it had lost a leg, by what accident I know not; but the loss did not at all interfere with its activity or spirits. Their sociability extends sometimes to birds of other kinds, as the Creeper and the Tits of several species have been seen hunting in company with them. The habits of these birds being similar, they perhaps associate from a feeling of mutual protection, just as Sparrows, Buntings, and Finches make common cause, when they invade our rick-yards. The Gold-crests are, however, naturally less wary than any of the Tits. These last will at once decamp if disturbed, but Gold-crests will continue their hunting without taking any notice of a spectator. In autumn large flocks sometimes arrive on our east coast extending across England and on into Ireland. In April a return migration takes place. The nest of the Gold-crest is a beautiful structure. Its external form is nearly that of a globe, with a contracted opening at the top. It is composed of moss and lichens, interwoven with wool and lined thickly with feathers. It is usually placed among the boughs of a silver-fir or spruce-fir, in such a manner as to be partially suspended from one branch and supported by another. The bird seems neither to court nor to shun the vicinity of human beings; as I have found nests in the most lonely woods, and I have seen one in the branches of a spruce-fir, so close to my house that I could look into the nest from my bedroom windows, and watch the old birds feeding their young. The eggs vary in number from five to eight, they are almost globular, and smaller than those of any other British bird. This is scarcely surprising, seeing that the weight of a recently killed adult male which I have before me is eighty-seven grains; so that five and a half full-grown birds weigh but an ounce.

THE FIRE-CRESTED WREN

RÉGULUS IGNICAPILLUS

Upper parts olive-green; a dark streak passing through the eye, and another white one above and below; crest brilliant orange, bounded in front and on each side by a black streak; in other respects resembling the last. Female with all the colours less brilliant. Length four inches. Eggs cream colour, tinged with red and dotted.

This species both in size and habits resembles the last, from which it is best distinguished by three dark lines on each side of its head. Hence it is called in France 'Roitelet à triple bandeau'. It is far less common than the Gold-crest, and has not been observed in the winter, when birds of the other species are most abundant—in fact, it is only a rare straggler. Its call-note is shorter than that of the Gold-crest, not so shrill, and pitched in a different key. The nests of the two birds are much alike.

FAMILY PARIDÆ

THE LONG-TAILED TIT

ACRÉDULA CAUDÁTA

Head, neck, throat, breast, and a portion of the outer tail-feathers white; back, wings, and six middle feathers of the tail black; a black streak above the eye; sides of the back and scapulars tinged with rose-red; under parts reddish white; tail very long; beak very short. Length five inches and three-quarters; breadth six inches and three-quarters. Eggs white, minutely and sparingly speckled with light red or plain white.

All the Tits, of whatever species, are more or less sociable in their habits, hunting about during autumn in parties of half a dozen or more; but some of them are given to be quarrelsome, not only towards other birds—like the Great Tit, who actually murders them for the sake of picking out their brains—but among themselves, as the Blue Tit, who has been noticed so intently engaged in combat with another bird of his own kind, that the observer caught them both in his hat. The Long-tailed Tits, however, are sociable after another sort. From the time that a young brood leaves the nest until the next pairing season, father, mother, and children keep together in irreproachable harmony. Exploring the same clump of trees in society, perfectly agreed as to whither their next flitting shall be, no one showing any disposition to remain when the rest are departing, molesting no one, and suffering as far as it can be ascertained no persecution, they furnish a charming example of a happy family. Nomad in their habits, save that they indulge in no questionable cravings for their neighbours' property, they satisfy their wants with the natural produce of any convenient halting-place, when they have exhausted which they take their flight, in skirmishing order, but generally in a straight line, and strictly following the lead of their chief, to some other station; and when overtaken by night, they halt and encamp where chance has left them. Their only requisite is, in summer, the branch of a tree; in winter, some sheltered place where they can huddle together, and sleep until the next day's sun calls them to resume their erratic course.[6] Their food, during those journeys, consists of caterpillars, small beetles, and the pupæ of insects generally, and this diet they seem never or very rarely to vary.[7] The ripest fruits do not tempt them to prolong their stay in a garden, and insects that crawl on earth are in two senses beneath their notice. Their rapid progress from tree to tree has been compared to a flight of arrows. Singular as is their flight, they are no less amusing while employed in hunting for food, as they perform all the fantastic vagaries of the Tits, and their long straight tails add much to the grotesqueness of their attitudes. Seen near at hand, their appearance may be called comical. Their abundant loose feathers, the prevailing hue of which is grey, suggest the idea of old age, and, together with the short hooked beak, might give a caricaturist a hint of an antiquated human face, enveloped in grey hair. Many of the provincial names of the bird are associated with the ridiculous; thus, Long-tailed Mufflin, Long-tail Mag, Long-tail Pie, Poke-pudding, Hack-muck, Bottle Tom, Mum-ruffin, and Long-pod, pet names though they are, are also whimsical, and prepare one beforehand for the information that their owner is 'just a little eccentric'. But whatever be their name, I never hear the well-known 'zit, zit', the pass-word which keeps them together, and which always accompanies their journeyings, without stopping to watch the little family on their flight.

The nest of this species is of most exquisite workmanship and beautiful texture. Its form is that of a large cocoon broadest at the base, or that of a fir cone. It is sometimes fastened to the stem of a tree, sometimes placed in a fork, but more frequently built into the middle of a thick bush, so that it can only be removed by cutting away the branches to which it is attached. The outer surface is composed principally of the white lichen which is most abundant in the neighbourhood, and so is least likely to attract attention. All the scraps are woven together with threads of fine wool; the dome is felted together, and made rain-proof by a thick coating of moss and lichen, wool and the web of spiders' eggs. The walls are of moss. The interior is a spherical cell, lined with a profusion of feathers. A softer or warmer bed it would be hard to imagine. At the distance of about an inch from the top is a circular opening scarcely large enough to admit one's thumb. In this luxurious couch, which it has cost the female bird some three weeks of patient industry to complete, she lays ten or twelve eggs, which all in good time are developed into as many Bottle Tits; but by what skilful management the ten or twelve long tails are kept unruffled, and are finally brought to light as straight as arrows, I can offer no opinion. Nests are occasionally found containing as many as eighteen eggs. In these cases it has been affirmed that two or more females share a common nursery, and incubate together. Certainly it is difficult to imagine how a single pair can manage to supply with food so many hungry young birds, but there is no direct evidence of their being two distinct broods.

[6] The name proposed for the Long-tailed Tit, by Dr. Leuch, Mecistura vagans, is most appropriate. "Long-tailed Wanderer," for such is its import, describes the most striking outward characteristic of the bird, and its unvarying habit.

[7] A young friend informed me that he had once shot one, with a beechnut in its mouth. This it must have picked up from the ground, as the season was winter.

THE GREAT TIT, OX-EYE OR TOMTIT

PARUS MAJOR

Head, throat, and a line passing down the centre of the breast, black; back olive-green; cheeks and a spot on the nape white; breast and abdomen yellow. Length six inches; breadth nine. Eggs white, speckled with light rusty.

As this bird is no larger than a Sparrow, its surname 'Great' must be understood to denote only its superiority in size to other birds of the same family. It is, however, great-hearted, as far as boldness and bravery entitle it to this epithet, being ready to give battle to birds far its superiors in size, foremost to join in mobbing an intrusive Owl, and prepared to defend its nest against robbers of all kinds. Its powers of locomotion are considerable, as it is strong in flight, active on the ground, and as a climber is surpassed by few rivals. Its stout and much-curved hind claw gives it great facility in clinging to the twigs and branches of trees, sides of ricks, and even the walls of houses. Such situations it resorts to in quest of its favourite food, caterpillars and pupæ of all kinds, and it is most amusing to watch it while thus engaged. Attitude seems to be a matter of no consequence; it can cling with perfect security to anything but a smooth surface. On trees it hangs from the branches, with its back either downwards, or turned sideways, and explores crevices in walls with as little regard to the vertical position of the surface to which it clings, as if it were examining a hole in the level ground. Its efforts to disengage a chrysalis from its cocoon are very entertaining. One scarcely knows which most to admire, the tenacity of its grasp, the activity with which it turns its head and body, or the earnestness and determination with which it clears away every obstacle until it has secured the prize. It does not, however, limit its food to insects; it is accused of feeding occasionally on the buds of fruit-trees, but it is doubtful whether the bird has any other object in attacking these, than that of hunting out the insects that infest them. It is said also to be very fond of nuts, which it sticks into crevices in the bark of trees, and cracks by repeated blows of its beak. Whether it has this power, I do not know; but that it will eat nuts of every kind, it is easy to prove by fastening the kernels of filberts or walnuts to the trunks of trees by means of stout pins. Tits, great and little, and Nuthatches, if there be any in the neighbourhood, will soon discover them, and if once attracted may thus be induced to pay daily visits to so productive a garden. A Great Tit of unusual intelligence, which frequents my garden at the present time, has been frequently observed to draw up by its claws a walnut suspended by a string from the bough of an apple-tree, and to rifle its contents, being itself all the while leisurely perched on the twig, and keeping the nut firm by a dexterous use of its claws. A charge, amounting to a grave accusation against the Great Tit, and one which cannot be palliated by the plea that he has accomplices, is, that when driven by hunger and he has the opportunity, he attacks other small and weakly birds, splits their skulls by means of his strong, sharp beak, and picks out their brains. One story in particular I find, of a Great Tit having been placed in a well-filled aviary. In the course of a single night, he had killed every one of his companions, with the exception of a Quail, and when he was discovered, he was in the very act of dealing to this the coup de grâce. His skill and discrimination in pecking holes in the sunniest side of ripe apples and pears are well known; but to this reward for his services in destroying caterpillars he is justly entitled.

The Great Tit builds its nest generally in the hole of a tree, employing as materials moss and leaves, and, for the lining, hair and feathers; but as its habits lead it to our gardens, it comes into close contact with human beings and becomes familiar with them. Hence it occasionally builds its nest in quaint places, which bear ever so distant a resemblance to its natural haunts. An unused pump affords it an excellent harbour; and the drawer of an old table, left in an outhouse, has been found thus occupied.

The notes of the Great Tit are various, but not musical. Its spring song must be familiar to every one; though not every one who hears it knows who is the musician. It consists of but two notes, repeated frequently, and sounding as if made by a bird alternately drawing in and sending out its breath; both together give a fair imitation of the sharpening of a saw. Besides this, it indulges in a variety of chirps, twitters, and cheeps, some angry, some deprecatory, and some pert, which a practised ear only can refer to their proper author.

THE BLUE TIT, ALSO CALLED TOMTIT

PARUS CŒRÚLEUS

Crown of the head blue, encircled with white; cheeks white, bordered with dark blue; back olive-green; wings and tail bluish; greater coverts and secondaries tipped with white; breast and abdomen yellow, traversed by a dark blue line. Length four inches and a half; breadth seven inches and a half. Eggs as in the preceding, but smaller.

The Blue or Tom Tit so closely resembles the Great Tit in its habits, that, with trifling exceptions, a description of one would be equally applicable to the other. Though much smaller than his relative, the Tom Tit is equally brave and pugnacious, and is even more quarrelsome, for he will fight with birds of his own kind; and the Great Tit, if obliged to contest with him the possession of a prize, retires from the field. His food, too, consists principally of insects, but he is also very partial to meat. This taste leads him much to the neighbourhood of houses and other places where he can indulge his carnivorous propensities. A dog-kennel, with its usual accompaniment of carrion, is a favourite resort, and there are probably few butchers' shops in country villages which he does not frequently visit. A bit of bacon suspended from the branch of a tree is a great attraction. He evinces little fear of man, and will hunt about the trees in our gardens without seeming to notice the presence of a stranger. He frequently pays visits, too, to roses trained against cottages, and will occasionally flutter against the glass to secure a spider or gnat that he has detected while passing. His power of grasping is very great. I have seen him cling to the moulding of a window for several minutes, without relinquishing his hold, though the projecting surface was merely a smooth beading. All this while he was engaged in tearing to pieces the cocoon which some caterpillar had constructed in a crevice; and so intent was he on his occupation, that he took no notice of the tenants of the room, though they were only a few feet distant from him. He is more frequently seen on the ground than either of the other species, and where it is the custom to throw out crumbs and the scrapings of plates, for the benefit of little birds, the Blue Tit rarely fails to present itself among Sparrows and Redbreasts.

The Tom Tit builds its nest of moss, and lines it with hair, wool, and feathers. This it places in a hole, either in a wall or tree, and is at so great pains to combine comfort and security for its brood, that it has been known to excavate, in a decayed stump, a chamber large enough for its nest, and to carry away the chips in its beak to some distant place, lest, we may suppose, they should betray its retreat. More frequently, however, it selects a natural hollow, as, for instance, the stump of a small tree in a hedge, of which all the inner part is decayed; nor does it despise human appliances if they will answer its purpose; a disused pump, a bottle, or a flower-pot, have all been known to serve its turn. It lays seven or eight eggs, but a nest containing eighteen is on record; and in defence of its family, shows great courage. If a nest be molested, the bird, instead of endeavouring to escape, retains its place and makes an unpleasant hissing noise, and if this be not enough to deter the intruder, pecks his fingers with great vigour. Hence it has received the popular name of 'Billy Biter'. As a songster, it does not rank high: yet it has some variety of notes, which it utters in short snatches, expressive rather than musical, as if the bird were trying to talk rather than to sing.

THE COLE TIT

PARUS ATER

Crown of the head, throat, and front of the neck black; cheeks and nape white; upper parts grey; wings bluish grey, with two white bands; under parts white, tinged with grey. Length four inches and a half; breadth nearly eight. Eggs like the last.

This and the following species resemble each other so closely in size, habits, general hue and note, that at a distance it is difficult to distinguish them. There are, however, strong points of difference; the head and neck of the present species being glossy black, with a patch of pure white on the nape of the neck and on the cheeks, while the head of the Marsh Tit is of a dull sooty black, without any admixture of white, nor is there a white spot on the cheeks. The Cole Tit is in many districts a common bird, inhabiting woods and hedgerows, and feeding on insects, for which it hunts with unceasing activity among the branches and twigs of trees. Its note is less varied than that of the Blue Tit, but sweeter in tone. It builds its nest in the holes of trees and walls, of moss, hair, and feathers, and lays six or seven eggs.

THE MARSH TIT

PARUS PALUSTRIS

Forehead, crown, head, and nape black; upper parts grey; wings dark grey, lighter at the edges; cheeks, throat, and breast dull white. Dimensions and eggs as in the last.

As has been said, the Marsh Tit and Cole Tit are so much alike that it requires a sharp eye to distinguish them at a distance. On a closer inspection, however, the characters mentioned in the preceding paragraph become apparent, and there can be no question that they are distinct species. The Marsh Tit is a bird of common occurrence, resident south of the Forth, being in some places less abundant, in others more so than the Cole Tit, while in others, again, the two are equally frequent. In those districts with which I am myself most familiar, it is hard to say which kind preponderates. Though it freely resorts to woods and plantations remote from water, it prefers, according to Montagu, low, wet ground, where old willow-trees abound, in the holes of which it often makes its nest. Its note, I have already observed, is very like that of the Cole Tit, being less harsh than that either of the Blue or Great Tit. The peculiar double note, which I know no other way of describing than by comparing it to the syllables 'if-he', rapidly uttered, and repeated in imitation of a sob, characterizes, in a more or less marked degree, the spring song of all four. Another characteristic of the same species is, that all the members of a brood appear to keep much together for several months after they are fledged. At the approach of winter, they break up their societies, and are for the most part solitary till the return of spring. The Marsh Tit, like the Tom Tit, has been observed to enlarge the hole which it has selected for its nest, and to carry the chips in its bill to a distance, and it is equally courageous in defence of its eggs and young.

THE CRESTED TIT

PARUS CRISTÁTUS

Feathers of the crown elongated and capable of being erected, black, edged with white; cheeks and sides of the neck white; throat, collar, and a streak across the temples black; all the other upper parts reddish brown; lower parts white, faintly tinged with red. Length four inches and three-quarters. Eggs white spotted with blood-red.

'The Crested Tit', is a solitary retired species, inhabiting only gloomy forests, particularly those which abound with evergreens. On the European Continent it is found in Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Switzerland, and some parts of France. In the large pine tracts in the north of Scotland, it is said to be not uncommon, and it used to be found also in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, but has been seldom observed in England. Its food consists of insects, berries of the juniper, and seeds of evergreens. It builds its nest in hollow trees, or in the deserted nests of squirrels and crows, and lays as many as eight eggs.

FAMILY PANURIDÆ

THE BEARDED TITMOUSE OR REEDLING

PANÚRUS BIÁRMICUS

Head bluish grey; between the bill and eye a tuft of pendant black feathers prolonged into a pointed moustache; throat and neck greyish white; breast and abdomen white, tinged with yellow and pink; upper parts light orange-brown; wings variegated with white, black, and red; tail long, orange-brown, the outer feathers variegated with white and black. In the female the moustache is of the same colour as the cheek, and the grey on the head is absent. Length six inches. Eggs white, with a few wavy lines of dark red.

This pretty bird is of very local occurrence, being found in considerable numbers in several marshy districts where reeds abound, but in others being totally unknown. Their habits resemble those of the true Tits, but instead of spending their lives in trees, they confine themselves to the marshes, and are constantly employed in running up and down the stems of the reeds, hunting for their food, which consists of small molluscs (or water-snails) and the seeds of the reeds. Like the Tits, too, they are sociable, always being observed in pairs or families; not congregating like Sparrows for the sake of mutual protection, but seemingly from the pure love of each other's company. A writer in the Magazine of Natural History gives the following account of their habits:—'I was told that some of these birds had been seen in a large piece of reeds below Barking Creek; and being desirous of observing them in their haunts, I went, accompanied by a person and a dog, to the above-named place, on a cold and windy morning; the reed-cutters having commenced their operations, I was fearful of deferring my visit, lest my game might be driven away. Arrived on our ground, we traversed it some time without success, and were about to leave it, when our attention was roused by the alarm-cry of the bird. Looking up, we saw eight or ten of these beautiful creatures on the wing, just topping the reeds over our heads, uttering, in full chorus, their forcibly musical note, which resembles the monosyllable ping! pronounced first slow and single, then two or three times in a more hurried manner, uttered in a clear and ringing, though soft tone, which well corresponds with the beauty and delicacy of the bird. Their flights were short and low, only sufficient to clear the reeds, on the seedy tops of which they alight to feed, hanging, like most of their tribe, with the head and back downwards. After some time, we were fortunate enough to shoot one, a male, in fine plumage. I held it in my hand when scarcely dead. Nothing could exceed the beauty of the eye; the bright orange of the iris, surrounded by the deep glossy black of the moustaches and streak above, receives additional brilliancy from the contrast, and struck me as a masterpiece of colour and neatness.' These specimens were observed in the month of December. Towards the end of April the Bearded Tit begins building its nest. This is composed externally of the dead leaves of reeds and sedges, and lined with the feathery tops of reed. It is generally placed in a tuft of coarse grass or rushes near the ground on the margin of the dikes, in the fen; sometimes among the reeds that are broken down, but never suspended between the stems. Two nests, described by Yarrell, were composed entirely of dried bents, the finer ones forming the lining; and others, increasing in substance, made up the exterior. The eggs were from seven to eight in number, rather smaller than those of the Great Tit, and less pointed, white, and sparingly marked with pale red lines or scratches. The same author observes that 'it is very abundant in Holland; and numbers are brought alive from that country to the London markets for sale; the birds being attractive in confinement from the beauty of the plumage, their graceful form and general sprightliness.' I have seen it stated that the moustaches, from which the bird takes its name, are movable, and that their play gives a peculiar animation to the expression of the bird's face, but I have never had an opportunity of verifying this remark. They have been increasing in the Norfolk Broads of late years.

FAMILY SITTIDÆ

THE NUTHATCH

SITTA CÆSIA

Upper plumage bluish grey; a black streak across the eye; cheeks and throat white; under plumage dull orange red; outer tail-feathers black, with a white spot near the end, tipped with grey, the two central ones grey; beak bluish black, the lower mandible white at the base; feet light brown. Length six inches. Eggs white, spotted with two shades of purplish red.

Standing, one winter's day, by the side of a pond, near a row of tall elms, and watching some boys sliding, I heard the few short twittering notes of a Nuthatch overhead, and it at once occurred to me how I should describe the note in such a way that it should be infallibly recognized. It is precisely like the sound made by a pebble thrown so as to bound along ice. This is the winter note. On fine sunny days in February it begins to add to its simple call a more musical sound, approaching a whistle. Further on in the season, the twitter is heard no more, and is exchanged altogether for a not unmelodious whistle, several times repeated, rarely protracted into a bubbling sound, such as it might be supposed to make if it were rattling a pea in its throat. On these occasions it is usually perched in the branches of a tree, and may be distinguished by its bluish grey back, dull red breast, and short tail. The Nuthatch is not an accomplished musician, and claims, therefore, to be pointed out by other characteristics. This is no difficult task to undertake; for no British bird is more decidedly marked in its habits. In the first place, it has strong clasping claws, which admirably adapt it for climbing; and though it does not possess the rigid tail of the Woodpeckers to aid it in this operation, it has a short tail which never comes in the way. In most counties of England where old timber is (except the extreme western and northern, where it is rare) any one walking through a woodland district and keeping a sharp look-out may observe a bluish bird, somewhat larger than a Sparrow, creeping by starts up the trunk of any rough barked tree. It is so intent on its occupation—that of searching for insects in the crevices of the bark—that it takes no notice of the observer, but pursues its course after a method of its own, but according to no rule that we can detect. Now it disappears on one side of the trunk and then shows itself a few inches higher on the other; now it is lost to sight for a longer interval—one would think it was hiding, or had taken its departure—but no, there it is again, creeping, back downwards, along a horizontal branch; arrived at the extremity it utters a double twitter, perhaps, and flies either to a new tree or to another branch of the same. This time it creeps from the extremity of a branch towards the hole of the tree, equally at ease whatever may chance to be its position, and no more affected by gravity than a fly. Arrived at the main stem it keeps on its course, still advancing by starts, and accompanying every movement, as, indeed, it has been doing all along, by an almost imperceptible twinkling of its wings, something like that which has gained for the Hedge Sparrow the sobriquet of 'Shuffle-wing'. That no other bird but the Nuthatch has the power of creeping down a tree I cannot say, for I once observed a Tree-creeper descend for a few inches but no other British bird does habitually hunt after this method; by this habit consequently it may be discriminated. Equally comfortable in all positions, if it has any choice, or desires to rest, it clings to the upright trunk of a tree, head downwards.

The Nuthatch is singular, too, in its mode of nidification. The only nest which I have thoroughly examined was built in the hollow of an apple-tree, and was composed entirely of scraps of birch-bark. The Naturalist contains a description of one made of beech-bark, though probably here, too, birch is meant; others are described as being made of dry leaves and moss: but, whatever the materials may be, the nest itself is invariably placed in the hole of a tree. There are good reasons for believing that in case of necessity the bird enlarges the cavity to make its dwelling sufficiently commodious, chips of wood having been sometimes found in the vicinity; but what makes the Nuthatch singular among British birds is, that it not only enacts the carpenter when occasion arises, but adds the vocation of plasterer.

In the case above alluded to I do not know that its powers were called out in either of these capacities. As a plasterer it had no occasion to work, for the opening to the hole was so small that it required to be cut away in order to admit a boy's hand, but many instances are recorded when it selected a hole with a large orifice which is contracted by lining it with a thick coat of mud and gravel. This parapet, constructed either to keep out bulky intruders or to keep in the young birds, if injured or destroyed will be found restored after a short lapse of time; and so devoted a mother is the hen bird that she will suffer herself to be taken rather than desert her brood. I have rarely noticed a Nuthatch on the ground during winter, but in spring and summer it adds to its diet terrestrial insects and worms and is said also to be partial to red currants—not a singular taste. But the fruit which has an especial charm for the Nuthatch is that from which it derives its name.[8] Its keen eye detects the ripening filbert in the garden or orchard before the hazels in the wood are beginning to turn brown, and it then despises less dainty food. One by one the clusters are pecked open and their contents purloined, carried, perhaps, to some convenient storehouse for future banquetings. At any rate the owner of filbert trees where these birds abound has need to keep a daily watch, or his share in the produce will prove exceedingly small. I have seen trees bearing a fine crop of husks but nearly all empty. The proprietor had suffered them to remain till they were ripe, the Nuthatches had taken a different view of the case and preferred them unripe rather than not at all. But what, it may be asked, can a bird little larger than a Sparrow find to do with a filbert, or even a hazel-nut? Here we have a fresh distinctive feature in the biography of the Nuthatch. The bird carries off its prey in its beak, and when in want of a meal wedges the nut in the crevice of some rough-barked tree, such as an oak, an elm, or a walnut. This done, he takes his stand, head downwards, above the nut, throws back his head to gather force for a blow, and then brings it violently forwards many times in rapid succession, aided, too, by the weight of his body and a clapping of the wings in exact time with each stroke. By dint of repeated blows thus dealt by his strong beak, even the hard shell of a filbert at last gives way; a small hole is the result, which is soon enlarged, and the kernel becomes the hardly-earned prize. Any one who will take the trouble to examine the trunks of old oaks and elms will be sure to find shells still remaining wedged into the bark, and if during a ramble in the woods in autumn or winter, or even in early spring, he should happen to hear a smart tapping, let him follow the direction of the sound, and he will stand a fair chance of discovering the clever little nutcracker at work. If in the course of his operations the bird happens to dislodge a nut, so nimble is he that before it reaches the ground he will have caught it in his beak. Acorns and the nuts of yew-berries, and probably other hard seeds, are similarly treated by the Nuthatch; cherrystones, I suspect, are beyond his powers, yielding only to the massive beak of the Hawfinch. The Nuthatch may easily be induced to visit gardens by wedging hazel or Spanish nuts into the bark of trees; a walnut fastened on by a pin is equally effectual. But no more enticing bait can be set than a lump of fat meat, which should be tied tightly by a string to the horizontal branch of an apple-tree or any other tree, a good view of which can be commanded from the house. If the weather be severe and the ground covered with snow, it is surprising what a variety of birds will come to partake of the unknown food. Robins, Sparrows, Tits of several kinds, Chaffinches, and others flock for a share, not without sundry bickerings, alarms, and semblances of fighting. But should a Nuthatch happen to appear, all retire until his highness is satisfied. He enters upon the scene in a way of his own. Other birds alight on a bough or twig at some little distance from the banquet and make gradual advances. Not so the Nuthatch; he darts forward in a horizontal line, as if propelled by a missile, sticks by his claws to whatever part of the branch he happens to touch, not caring in what attitude he alights, stops for a second as if to assure himself in what direction his head is pointing, creeps nimbly round to the morsel, takes his stand on it and hammers away until he has separated a large lump. This he then seizes in his beak and retires to a place of seclusion, leaving the inferior animals to squabble to their hearts' content over the crumbs which he has dislodged, and presently he discomfits them again by a reappearance. What his powers as a combatant may be I cannot say; great, it may be supposed, for no one is inclined to do him battle, and he is not sociably disposed even towards those of his own kind.

[8] From the French hacher, 'to chop'; hence also 'hatchet'.

FAMILY CERTHIIDÆ

THE TREE CREEPER

CERTHIA FAMILIÁRIS

Upper plumage mottled with yellowish brown, dark brown, and white; a pale streak over the eyes; throat and breast buff-white, becoming dusky towards the tail; wings brown tipped with white and barred with white brown, and dull yellow; tail-feathers reddish brown, stiff and pointed. Length five inches, breadth seven inches. Eggs white, with small yellowish red spots.

The Tree Creeper, though a common bird, is less familiarly known than many others of much rarer occurrence, yet, if once observed, can be confounded with no other. In size it ranks with the Tits, Willow Wren, etc., but is less likely to attract notice than any of these, as it never alights on the ground, nor perches on the small twig of a tree. Its note, too, is weak, simple, and unpretending, amounting to no more than an occasional 'cheep', which it utters from time to time while hunting for food, and while performing its short flights. Any one, however, who wishes to see the bird, and knows what to search for, can scarcely fail of success if he looks well about him during a stroll through almost any wood of full-grown trees. Half-way up the trunk of a rugged elm or oak he will observe a small portion of bark, as it were, in motion; the motion, and not the colour, betrays the presence of a small brown bird, which is working its way by a succession of irregular starts up the trunk. Frequently it stops for a few seconds, and is evidently pecking at some small insect, quite noiselessly however. Its beak is not adapted for hammering; it confines its attention therefore to such insects as live on the surface of the bark. It utters a low 'cheep', and proceeds, not in a straight line up the tree, but turning to the right or left according as it descries a probable lurking-place of its prey: presently it disappears on the other side of the trunk, and again comes in view a few feet higher up. Now it reaches a horizontal branch; along this it proceeds in like manner, being indifferent whether it clings sideways, or hangs with its back downwards. Arrived at the smaller subdivisions of the bough it ceases to hunt; but, without remaining an instant to rest, flies to the base of another bough, or more probably, to another tree, alighting a few feet only from the ground, and at once beginning a new ascent. This mode of life it never varies: from morning to night, in winter and in summer, it is always climbing up the boles of trees, and when it has reached the top, flying to the base of others. On one solitary occasion I observed one retrace its steps for a few inches, and stand for a second or two with its head downwards; but this is a most unusual position, as indeed may be inferred from the structure of its tail, the feathers of which are rigid, and more or less soiled by constant pressure against the bark. It frequently visits orchards and gardens in the country, displaying little fear of man, preferring perhaps to hunt on the far side of a tree when any one is looking on; but not very particular even about this, and certainly never thinking it necessary to decamp because it is being watched. To this indifference to the presence of human beings, it owes its name 'familiaris', and not, as it might be imagined, to any fondness for their society, which, in fact, it neither courts nor shuns. It is a quiet inoffensive creature, congregating with no other birds, and being rarely, except in spring, seen in company with even its own species. It builds its nest of small roots and twigs, scraps of bark and grass, and lines it with wool and feathers. A hole in a pollard willow is a favourite place for a nest; in default of this a hollow in any other tree is selected, or the space between the stump of a tree and a detached portion of bark; and it chooses the straw eaves of some shed. It lays from six to nine eggs, which are exceedingly like those of the smaller Tits.

FAMILY TROGLODYTIDÆ

THE WREN

TRÓGLODYTES PÁRVULUS

Upper plumage reddish brown with transverse dusky bars; quills barred alternately with black and reddish brown; tail dusky, barred with black; over the eyes a narrow light streak; under parts light reddish brown; the sides and thighs marked with dark streaks. Length three inches and three-quarters; breadth six inches and a half. Eggs white with a few yellowish red spots towards the larger end, sometimes without spots.

Throughout the whole of England the Wren is invested with a sanctity peculiar to itself and the Redbreast. In the west of England I was familiar, as a child, with the doggerel rhymes: England I was familiar, as a child, with the doggerel rhymes:

Whoso kills a Robin or a Wran

Shall never prosper boy nor man.

In the north it is protected by a similar shield:

Malisons, malisons, mair than ten,

Who harries the queen of heaven's Wren.

In the Isle of Man a legend exists that there 'once on a time' lived a wicked enchantress who practised her spells on the warriors of Mona, and thereby stripped the country of its chivalry. A doughty knight at length came to the rescue, and was on the point of surprising her and putting her to death, when she suddenly transformed herself into a Wren and flew through his fingers. Every year, on Christmas Day, she is compelled to reappear in the island under the form of a Wren, with the sentence hanging over her, that she is to perish by human hands. On that day, consequently, every year, a grand onslaught is made by troops of idle boys and men on every Wren which can be discovered. Such as are killed are suspended from a bough of holly and carried about in triumph on the following day (St. Stephen's Day), the bearers singing a rude song descriptive of the previous day's hunt. The song is preserved in Quiggin's Guide to the Isle of Man, as it was sung in 1853; and, strange to say, it agrees almost word for word with a song which was current twenty years ago, and is so perhaps now, among the rustic population of Devonshire, though the actual hunt has in the latter case fallen into disuse.

In several parts of Ireland, especially the south, there still exists a legend to the effect that a party of Irish soldiers were on the point of surprising their enemies (either Danes or Royalists, for the story varies) who lay fatigued and asleep, when a Wren perched on the drum and awoke the sentinels. An unhappy legend for the poor bird. For some weeks previous to Christmas, peasants assemble to revenge the treachery of the offender in the persons of his descendants. Every Wren that is seen is hunted to death, and the bodies are carefully saved till St. Stephen's Day, when they are suspended from a decorated holly-bough and carried from house to house by the captors, accompanied by a song of which, in Connemara, this is the burden:

The Wran, the Wran, the king of all birds,

St. Stephen's Day was caught in the furze;

Although he is little, his family's great;

So come out, kind ladies, and give us a trate.

The version of the song in Hall's Ireland, as it is sung in the neighbourhood of Cork, scarcely differs from the above, and a similar one may be heard on the same day within twenty miles of Dublin. That a custom so absurdly singular should exist in places so remote, is in itself evidence that it is of ancient origin, though whence derived it would be idle to inquire.

The true story of the Wren is simple enough. It is a minute bird of unpretending plumage, distinguished easily by its erect tail and its habit of hiding in bushes and hedges, not clinging like the Creeper to the perpendicular or horizontal bough of a tree, but hopping from twig to twig, and occasionally taking a short direct flight to another place of concealment, but rarely exposing itself by doing more than this. When hunting for its food, which is considered to be almost exclusively insects, it searches diligently holes and crannies of all kinds, and in all substances. I have known one make its way habitually through a zinc pipe into a greenhouse, and do much service there by picking aphides from the slender stalks of herbaceous plants, which bent into the form of an arch under even its trifling weight. While thus occupied it has suffered me to come within arm's length, but has taken no notice of me. Generally, it displays little fear of man; but, though in winter it resorts to the neighbourhood of houses in quest of food, it shows no disposition, like the Redbreast, to enter on terms of intimacy, nor is it sociable either with its own kind or other birds. Its call-note is a simple 'chip, chip', which often betrays its vicinity when it is itself concealed from sight. Its proper song is full, loud, clear, and powerful, rapidly executed and terminating in a trill or shake, followed by two or three unimportant notes. This it utters occasionally in autumn and winter. About the middle of March the song of the Wren is among the most frequent sounds of the country. At this season one may often hear in a garden the roundelay of a Wren poured forth from the concealment of a low shrub; and, immediately that it is completed, a precisely similar lay bursts forth from another bush some twenty yards off. No sooner is this ended than it is answered, and so the vocal duel proceeds, the birds never interfering with each other's song, but uttering in turns the same combinations and arrangement of notes, just as if they were reading off copies of a score printed from the same type.[9]

But the season is coming on when the Wren has to be occupied with other things than singing down a rival. Nest-making is with this bird something more than the laying of a few sticks across one another. It is not every one who has at once the time, the inclination and the steadiness of purpose to watch, from beginning to end, the completion of a Wren's nest. To most people, one or other of these qualifications is wanting, and to not a few all three. A friend of Mr. Macgillivray, however, performed the task, and furnished him with a most satisfactory detailed account of what passed under his observation. The nest was commenced at seven o'clock in the morning of the thirtieth of May, by the female bird's placing the decayed leaf of a lime-tree in the cleft of a Spanish juniper. The male took no part in the work, but regaled his busy partner by singing to her all day long. At one period of the day she brought in bundles of leaves four, five, and even six times in the space of ten minutes. At other times, when greater care was needed in the selection of materials, she was sometimes absent for eight or ten minutes, but such was her industry that at seven o'clock the whole of the external workmanship was finished, the materials being dry leaves, felted together with moss. On the following day both birds joined in the work, beginning as early as half-past three o'clock in the morning, the materials being now moss and a few feathers. So the work proceeded, day after day, until the eighth of June, when the structure was completed, being a compact ball of dried leaves felted with moss and thickly lined with finer moss and feathers, domed over and having a small circular opening on one side. Dried leaves form the exterior of most Wrens' nests, unless they are placed in situations where such an appearance would attract the attention of a passer-by. On a mossy bank, the outside would probably consist of moss; under the root of a tree, of twigs; in a hay-stack, of hay, and so on, the bird being guided by its instinct to select the least conspicuous material. The number of eggs laid is usually six, but as many as fifteen or sixteen have been observed. Any one residing in the country, who has given his attention to birds' nests, must have remarked what a large proportion of the Wrens' nests which he has discovered are in an unfinished state and contain no eggs. These are called 'cock' nests. In winter wrens resort in numbers to old nests and to holes in walls for mutual warmth and shelter.

[9] I have heard the same musical contest in August.

FAMILY CINCLIDÆ

THE DIPPER

CINCLUS AQUÁTICUS

Upper plumage dark brown, tinged with ash; throat and breast pure white; abdomen brownish red; bill blackish; feet horn-colour. Female—colours nearly the same, but of a dingy hue. Length seven inches. Eggs pure white.

Any one who has wandered by the mountain rivers of Scotland, North Wales, or Derbyshire, can have scarcely failed to notice a bird, somewhat less than a Blackbird, black above, with white throat and breast, dart with rapid and direct flight from a low rock on the river's bank, and alight on a wet mossy stone rising but a few inches above the water, where the stream runs swiftest and the spray sparkles brightest. But for the roar of the torrent you might hear his song, a low melodious strain, which he often carries far on into the winter. His movements while he is thus perched are peculiar; a jerking upwards of the tail and dipping forward of the head remind us of the Wren, a bird with which he has, however, nothing really in common. Water Thrush is one of his names; but he is better known by the names, Dipper and Water Ouzel. Though neither furnished with web-feet like the Ducks, nor with long legs like the Waders, the Dipper is decidedly an aquatic bird, for he is never seen at any distance from a stream or mountain tarn; in his habits he resembles no other of his tribe—a water bird with a song—a song bird that wades, and swims. That he should be so far only singular in his habits is not enough. Although he is a wader he wades differently from other birds; and he uses his wings like oars. The Dipper uses both legs and wings in search of prey, examining the pebbles, feeding on molluscs and the larvæ of insects. Mr. St. John is of opinion that it commits great havoc among the spawn, 'uncovering the eggs, and leaving what it does not eat open to the attack of eels and other fish, or liable to be washed away by the current'. Mr. Macgillivray, on the contrary, states that he has dissected a great number of individuals at all seasons of the year, and has found no other substances in their stomachs but insects and molluscs; he is therefore of opinion that the charge of destroying the spawn of fish is unfounded. The latter opinion obtains now.

I might greatly extend my sketch of this interesting bird, but I have space only to add, that it builds a compact nest of moss, felted so as to be impervious to water, and lined with dead leaves, under a bank overhanging a stream, in the hole of a wall near a mill-dam, or between two rocks under a cascade, but always in such a situation that both old and young birds can throw themselves into the water immediately on being alarmed. I have read of one instance in which a nest was built under a waterfall in such a position, that the bird could not go to and fro without penetrating every time a vertical sheet of water. The nest is domed, and can be entered only by a small hole in front. It contains usually five or six whitish eggs, somewhat smaller than those of the Thrush.

FAMILY ORIOLIDÆ

THE GOLDEN ORIOLE

ORIÓLUS GÁLBULA

Plumage golden yellow; lore, wings and tail black, the tail yellow at the tip. Female:—olive green above, greyish white tinged with yellow beneath, and streaked with greyish brown; wings dark brown, the quills edged with olive grey; tail olive, tinged with dark brown. Length ten inches. Eggs white with a few isolated dark brown or black spots.

This brilliant bird, resembling the Thrushes in form and habits, but apparelled in the plumage of the Tropics, would seem to have no right to a place among British birds, so little is its gorgeous livery in keeping with the sober hues of our other feathered denizens. There can, however, be no doubt of the propriety of placing it among our visitors, though it comes but seldom and makes no long stay. It is a visitor to the southern sea-board counties and often seen in Cornwall and the Scilly Isles. Were it left unmolested, and allowed to breed in our woods, it is probable that it would return with its progeny, and become of comparatively common occurrence; but though there are on record one or two creditable exceptions, when real naturalists have postponed the glory of shooting and adding to their collection a British specimen, to the pleasure of watching its ways on British soil, yet its biography is not to be written from materials collected in this country. On the European continent it is a regular visitor, though even there it makes no long stay, arriving in the beginning of May, and taking its departure early in autumn. It is most common in Spain, Southern France, and Italy, but is not unfrequent in many other parts of France, in Belgium, and the south of Germany, and Hungary.

'His note', says Cuthbert Collingwood, 'is a very loud whistle, which may be heard at a great distance, but in richness equalling the flute stop of a fine-toned organ. This has caused it to be called Loriot in France. But variety there is none in his song, as he never utters more than three notes consecutively, and those at intervals of half a minute or a minute. Were it not for its fine tone, therefore, his song would be as monotonous as that of the Missel Thrush, which in modulation it greatly resembles.'

The nest of the Oriole is described as a marvel of architectural skill, excelling in elegance of form, richness of materials, and delicacy of workmanship combined with strength. It is overlaid externally, like that of the Chaffinch, with the silvery white lichen of fruit trees, which gives it the appearance of being a part of the branch which supports it. But the mansion of the Oriole is more skilfully concealed than that even of the Chaffinch. The latter is placed on a branch, of which it increases the apparent size, and so attracts attention. The nest of the Oriole, on the contrary, is suspended between the two forks of a horizontal branch, which intercept the side view of it. The materials employed are the lichen above mentioned, wool, cobwebs, and feathers, but all of a white hue. When not placed in a fruit tree, it is attached by a kind of cordage to the twigs of a poplar or birch tree, or even to a bunch of mistletoe, hanging in mid-air like the car of a balloon. A cradle thus sedulously constructed we should expect to find watched with unusual solicitude. And such is the case; it is defended most valiantly against the attacks of marauding birds, and so devoted is the mother bird that she has been known to suffer herself to be carried away sitting on her eggs, and to die of starvation. Surely a bird so beautiful and so melodious, so skilful an architect and so tender a nurse, deserves rather to be encouraged than exterminated. Nests have been found in several of our counties, more especially in Kent. The plumage of the female bird differs considerably from that of the male in richness of tint, and the young of both sexes resemble the female.

FAMILY STURNIDÆ

THE STARLING

STURNUS VULGARIS

Plumage black, with brilliant purple and green reflections, the upper feathers tipped with cream-colour; under tail-coverts edged with white; beak yellow; feet flesh-colour, tinged with brown. Female—spotted below as well as above. Young—uniform ash-brown, without spots. Length eight and a half inches; width fifteen inches. Eggs uniform pale greenish blue.

The Starling is a citizen of the world. From the North Cape to the Cape of Good Hope, and from Iceland to Kamtschatka, he is almost everywhere at home, and too familiar with the dealings of man to come within a dangerous distance of his arm, though he fully avails himself of all the advantages which human civilization offers, having discovered, long ago, that far more grubs and worms are to be procured on a newly-mown meadow than on the bare hillside, and that the flavour of May-dukes and Coroons immeasurably excels that of the wild cherries in the wood. That dove-cots, holes in walls, and obsolete water-spouts are convenient resting-places for a nest, appears to be a traditional piece of knowledge, and that where sheep and oxen are kept, there savoury insects abound, is a fact generally known, and improved on accordingly. So, in suburban gardens, where even the Redbreast and Tits are unknown, Starlings are periodical visitors and afford much amusement by their shambling gait, and industrious boring on the lawn for larvæ—in cherry orchards they are regarded with terror, on account of the amount of mischief they will accomplish in a short space of time; and in the sheep-fold they are doubtless most cordially welcomed and their services thankfully received, as they rid the poor tormented animals of many an evil 'tick'.

The Starling is a handsome bird; seen at a distance it appears to be of a uniform black hue, but on closer inspection its sable coat is found to be lustrous with reflections of purple and green, and every feather is tipped with white, or cream-colour—a mantle of shot-silk garnished with pearls.

Except during the nesting season, a Starling is rarely seen alone; most commonly perhaps they are observed in parties of from six to twelve, hunting in orchards or meadows for whichsoever article of their diet happens to be in season. Wherever a colony of Rooks, Jackdaws, or Rock Pigeons has established itself, there most probably, or somewhere in the neighbourhood, a large party will assemble to roost, and will attend the others on all their foraging expeditions. In spring the flocks, small and great, break up into pairs, each withdrawing to a convenient nesting place, which is sometimes a hole in a tree, sometimes a building, a cliff, or a cave. The nest itself is a simple structure, being composed of dry grass and roots, and contains generally five eggs. At this season the male bird adds to the chirping and twittering notes of both sexes a soft, and not unmusical note, which resembles more closely than any other sound with which I am acquainted the piping of a boatswain's whistle, and it is not uncommon to hear a party of choristers thus engaged, perched meanwhile on some high tree, even while incubation is going on. Starlings, also, mimic the notes of other singers. The breeding season over, they become nomad in their habits. Many families unite into a flock, and explore the country far and wide for suitable feeding places, their diet being, up to this time, exclusively worms and insects. But no sooner does the fruit begin to ripen in the cherry districts, than the flocks, now assembled in countless multitudes, descend on the trees, and, if not observed and scared away, appropriate the whole crop.

Newly-fledged Starlings are so different from their parents, that they might be mistaken for a different species. The plumage is of a uniform greyish brown, lighter beneath. It is not till the end of July or the beginning of August that the adult plumage begins to show itself, and then the young birds present a singular appearance, as the glossy black feathers, tipped with pearl, appear in irregular patches on various parts of the body. Starlings do not usually roost near the scene of their depredations, but from this season and thence until late in autumn they repair, as if by some preconcerted scheme, to a rendezvous common to many detachments. A writer in the Zoologist states that there were formerly, near Melbourne In Cambridgeshire, some large patches of reeds, which were rented at a certain annual sum, and which the tenant sold to builders to use in making plaster-floors and ceilings of rooms. Towards autumn, Starlings resorted to them in such numbers to roost, that unless scared away, they settled upon the reeds, broke them down and rendered them completely useless. It required a person to keep watch every evening for some time, and fire at them repeatedly with a gun as they were settling down; but as the spot was a favourite one, they showed considerable reluctance in quitting it.

THE ROSE-COLOURED STARLING

PASTOR ROSEUS

Head crested; crest and neck black, lustrous with violet reflections; back and lower parts rose-colour; wings and tail lustrous brown. Length eight inches.

A very beautiful bird, partaking the characters of the Starlings and Crows. It is an inhabitant of Syria, Asia Minor, and Africa, where it is gregarious in its habits, and does much mischief to the grain crops. It comes as a straggler to our country from spring to autumn; only, unfortunately, to be shot as a 'specimen'.

FAMILY CORVIDÆ

THE CHOUGH

PYRRHÓCORAX GRÁCULUS

Plumage black, with purple and green reflections; beak and feet coral-red; claws black. Length sixteen inches; width thirty-two inches. Eggs yellowish white, spotted with ash-grey and light brown.

Continental authors state that the bird which we call the Chough or Red-legged Crow frequents the highest mountain regions and the confines of perpetual snow, and that hence it is sometimes known by the name of 'Jackdaw of the Alps'. Like the rest of its tribe, it is omnivorous, and lives in societies, like the common Jackdaw and Rook, but rarely deserting, and then only when pressed by hunger, the place of its birth. With us it is never seen inland, confining itself to the rocky sea-coast, where it builds its nest in inaccessible cliffs, and leads the same kind of life with its sable relatives the Crows and Jackdaws, though it never ventures, as they do, far from its sea-side strongholds. The name Chough was probably in ancient times used as a common appellation of all the members of the family Corvidæ which have black plumage, this one being distinguished as the 'Cornish Chough', from the rocky district which it frequented. The famous lines in King Lear—

The Crows and Choughs that wing the midway air

Show scarce so gross as beetles:

point probably to the Jackdaw, which is abundant on the rocky coast of Kent, where the Chough has not been observed, though there is a traditional account of a pair which many years ago escaped from confinement and bred there. By its flight it is scarcely to be distinguished from the Jackdaw; but if it comes near enough to the observer to betray the vermilion colour of its legs, it may be known at once, and, seen on the ground, its long curved bill, and more slender form, sufficiently distinguish it from all others to which it assimilates in colour and size.

Not many years since, the Chough was far from uncommon in several parts of the coast of Devon and Cornwall. It is now much less frequent, though it still lingers about the Lizard in the latter county, and is said to breed in the high cliffs near Combe Martin in Devonshire, in both of which places I have often looked out sharply for it, but have never been quite satisfied that I have seen one. It is said also to haunt the precipitous coast of several other parts of Great Britain, and to be found also in many parts of Ireland; in the Channel, especially in Guernsey, it is fairly common, but always preferring the least frequented localities. The peculiar habits of a bird so uncommon and secluded are little known, so far at least as they are characteristic of the bird in its wild state. In captivity its ways differ little from those of the rest of its tribe. It is inquisitive, intrusive, captious in temper, disposed to become attached to those who treat it well, fond of attracting notice; in a word, it surpasses in intelligence most other tribes of birds, ranking among those members of the brute creation whose instinct amounts to something more than a formal compliance with certain laws which the rational creation has arbitrarily set down for their government. Insects and the rejectamenta of the sea-shore and occasionally grain form its diet. It builds its nest of sticks, and lines it with wool and hair, preferring a cleft in a rock, but not refusing any old ruin conveniently situated for its purpose. It lays four or five eggs.

THE NUTCRACKER

NUCÍFRAGA CARYOCATACTES

Plumage sooty brown, spotted on the back and under parts with white; tail black, barred with white at the extremity; beak and feet horn-colour; iris brown. Length thirteen inches. Eggs light buff, with a few greyish brown spots.

The Nutcracker Crow, a rare straggler, must not be confounded with the Nuthatch, which we have already described; the former is a large bird, as big as a Jay, and is only an occasional visitor in this country, and whose habits partake of those of the Crows and Woodpeckers. The propriety of its name is questionable, according to Yarrell, who says that 'it cannot crack nuts'. Here perhaps there may be some little mistake. Its name is evidently a translation of the French Cassenoix. In England we mean by 'nuts' filberts or hazel-nuts; but the French word noix is applied exclusively to walnuts, our nuts being noisettes, or 'little nuts'; and French authors are agreed that its food consists of insects, fruits, and walnuts; that is, the ordinary diet of its relative, the Rook, whose fondness for walnuts is notorious. It lays its eggs in the holes of trees, and, except in the breeding season, is more or less gregarious in its habits.

THE JAY

GÁRRULUS GLANDÁRIUS

Feathers of the crest greyish white, streaked with black; a black moustache from the corners of the beak; general plumage reddish grey, darker above; primaries dingy black; secondaries velvet-black and pure white; inner tertials rich chestnut; winglet and greater coverts barred with black, white, and bright blue; upper and under tail-coverts pure white; iris bright blue; beak black; feet livid brown. Length thirteen and a half inches; breadth twenty-two inches. Eggs dull green, minutely and thickly-speckled with olive-brown.

There exists among gamekeepers a custom of selecting a certain spot in preserved woods, and there suspending, as trophies of their skill and watchfulness, the bodies of such destructive animals as they have killed in the pursuit of their calling. They are generally those of a few stoats or weasels, a Hawk, a Magpie, an owl, and two or three Jays. All these animals are judged to be destructive to game, and are accordingly hunted to the death, the Jay, perhaps, with less reason than the rest, for though it can hardly resist the temptation of plundering, either of eggs or young, any nest, whether of Partridge or Pheasant, that falls in its way, yet it does not subsist entirely upon animal food, but also upon acorns and various other wild fruits. Its blue feathers are much used in the manufacture of artificial flies. Nevertheless, owing to their cautious and wary habits, there are few wooded districts in which they are not more or less numerous. Their jarring unconnected note, which characterizes them at all seasons, is in spring and summer varied by their song proper, in which I have never been able to detect anything more melodious than an accurate imitation of the noise made by sawyers at work, though Montagu states that 'it will, sometimes, in the spring utter a sort of song in a soft and pleasing manner, but so low as not to be heard at any distance; and at intervals introduces the bleating of a lamb, mewing of a cat, the note of a Kite or Buzzard, hooting of an Owl, or even neighing of a horse. These imitations are so exact, even in a natural wild state, that we have frequently been deceived.' The Jay generally builds its nest in a wood, either in the top of a low tree, or against the trunk of a lofty one, employing as material small sticks, roots, and dry grass, and lays five eggs. There seems to be a difference of opinion as to the sociability of the family party after the young are fledged, some writers stating that they separate by mutual consent, and that each shifts for itself; others, that the young brood remains with the old birds all the winter. For my own part, I scarcely recollect ever having seen a solitary Jay, or to have heard a note which was not immediately responded to by another bird of the same species, the inference from which is that, though not gregarious, they are at least social.

When domesticated, the Jay displays considerable intelligence; it is capable of attachment, and learns to distinguish the hand and voice of its benefactor.

THE MAGPIE

PICA RÚSTICA

Head, throat, neck, and back velvet-black; scapulars and under plumage white; tail much graduated and, as well as the wings, black, with lustrous blue and bronze reflections; beak, iris, and feet black. Length eighteen inches; breadth twenty-three inches. Eggs pale dirty green, spotted all over with ash-grey and olive-brown.

The Magpie, like the Crow, labours under the disadvantage of an ill name, and in consequence incurs no small amount of persecution. Owing to the disproportionate length of its tail and shortness of its wings its flight is somewhat heavy, so that if it were not cunning and wary to a remarkable degree, it would probably well-nigh disappear from the catalogue of British Birds. Yet though it is spared by none except avowed preservers of all birds (like Waterton, who protects it 'on account of its having nobody to stand up for it'), it continues to be a bird of general occurrence, and there seems indeed to be but little diminution of its numbers. Its nest is usually constructed among the upper branches of a lofty tree, either in a hedge-row or deep in a wood; or if it has fixed its abode in an unwooded district, it selects the thickest thorn-bush in the neighbourhood and there erects its castle. This is composed of an outwork of thorns and briers supporting a mass of twigs and mud, which is succeeded by a layer of fibrous roots. The whole is not only fenced round but arched over with thorny sticks, an aperture being left, on one side only, large enough to admit the bird. In this stronghold are deposited generally six eggs, which in due time are succeeded by as many young ogres, who are to be reared to birds by an unstinted supply of the most generous diet. Even before their appearance the old birds have committed no small havoc in the neighbourhood; now, however, that four times as many mouths have to be filled, the hunting ground must either be more closely searched or greatly extended. Any one who has had an opportunity of watching the habits of a tame Magpie, must have observed its extreme inquisitiveness and skill in discovering what was intended to be concealed, joined, moreover, to an unscrupulous habit of purloining everything that takes its roving fancy. Even when surrounded by plenty and pampered with delicacies it prefers a stolen morsel to what is legally its own. Little wonder then that when it has to hunt on its own account for the necessaries of life, and is stimulated besides by the cravings of its hungry brood, it has gained an unenviable notoriety as a prowling bandit. In the harrying of birds' nests no schoolboy can compete with it; Partridges and Pheasants are watched to their retreat and plundered mercilessly of their eggs and young; the smaller birds are treated in like manner: hares and rabbits, if they suffer themselves to be surprised, have their eyes picked out and are torn to pieces; rats, mice, and frogs are a lawful prey; carrion, offal of all kinds, snails, worms, grubs, and caterpillars, each in turn pleasantly vary the diet; and, when in season, grain and fruit are attacked with as much audacity as is consistent with safety; and might, whenever available, give a right to stray chickens and ducklings. The young birds, nurtured in an impregnable stronghold, and familiarized from their earliest days with plunder, having no song to learn save the note of caution and alarm when danger is near, soon become adepts in the arts of their parents, and, before their first moult, are a set of inquisitive, chattering marauders, wise enough to keep near the haunts of men because food is there most abundant, cautious never to come within reach of the fowling-piece, and cunning enough to carry off the call-bird from the net without falling themselves into the snare. Even in captivity, with all their drollery, they are unamiable.

Magpies, though generally distributed, are far more numerous in some districts than others. In Cornwall they are very abundant; hence I have heard them called Cornish Pheasants. In Ireland they are now very common. It is stated that they are in France more abundant than in any other country of Europe, where they principally build their nests in poplar-trees, having discovered, it is said, 'that the brittle nature of the boughs of this tree is an additional protection against climbers!' 'In Norway', says a writer in the Zoologist,[10] 'this bird, usually so shy in this country, and so difficult to approach within gunshot, seems to have entirely changed its nature: it is there the most domestic and fearless bird; its nest is invariably placed in a small tree or bush adjoining some farm or cottage, and not unfrequently in the very midst of some straggling village. If there happens to be a suitable tree by the roadside and near a house, it is a very favourable locality for a Norwegian Magpie's nest. I have often wondered to see the confidence and fearlessness displayed by this bird in Norway; he will only just move out of your horse's way as you drive by him on the road, and should he be perched on a rail by the roadside he will only stare at you as you rattle by, but never think of moving off. It is very pleasant to see this absence of fear of man in Norwegian birds; a Norwegian would never think of terrifying a bird for the sake of sport; whilst, I fear, to see such a bird as the Magpie sitting quietly on a rail within a few feet, would be to an English boy a temptation for assault which he could not resist. I must add, however, with regard to Magpies, that there is a superstitious prejudice for them current throughout Norway; they are considered harbingers of good luck, and are consequently always invited to preside over the house; and, when they have taken up their abode in the nearest tree, are defended from all ill; and he who should maltreat the Magpie has perhaps driven off the genius loci, and so may expect the most furious anger of the neighbouring dwelling, whose good fortune he has thus violently dispersed.' Faith in the prophetic powers of the Magpie even yet lingers in many of the rural districts of England also.

[10] Vol. viii. p. 3085.

THE JACKDAW

CORVUS MONÉDULA

Crown of the head and upper parts black, with violet reflections; back of the head and nape grey; lower parts duller black; iris white; beak and feet black. Length thirteen inches; breadth twenty-seven inches. Eggs very light blue, with scattered spots of ash-colour and dark brown.

This lively and active bird, inferior in size as well as dignity to the Rook, yet in many respects resembles it so closely that it might be fabled to have made the Rook its model, and to have exercised its imitative powers in the effort to become the object of its admiration. A vain effort, however; for nature has given to it a slender form, a shriller voice, a partially grey mantle, and an instinct which compels it to be secretive even in the placing of its nest. Its note, which may be represented either by the syllable 'jack' or 'daw', according to the fancy of the human imitator, sounds like an impertinent attempt to burlesque the full 'caw' of the Rook; it affects to be admitted into the society of that bird on equal terms; but whether encouraged as a friend, or tolerated as a parasite whom it is less troublesome to treat with indifference than to chase away, is difficult to decide. Most probably the latter; for although It is common enough to see a party of Jackdaws dancing attendance on a flock of Rooks, accompanying them to their feeding-grounds, and nestling in hollow trunks of trees in close proximity to rookeries, they are neither courted nor persecuted; they come when they like and go away when they please. On the other hand, no one, I believe, ever saw a flock of Rooks making the first advances towards an intimacy with a flock of Jackdaws, or heard of their condescending to colonize a grove, because their grey-headed relatives were located in the neighbourhood. On the sea-coast, where Rooks are only casual visitors, the Jackdaw has no opportunity of hanging himself on as an appendage to a rookery, but even here he must be a client. With the choice of a long range of cliff before him, he avoids that which he might have all to himself, and selects a portion which, either because it is sheltered from storms, or inaccessible by climbers, has been already appropriated by Sea-mews.

The object of the Jackdaw in making church-towers its resort is pretty evident. Where there is a church there is at least also a village, and where men and domestic animals congregate, there the Jackdaw fails not to find food; grubs in the fields, fruit in the orchards, and garbage of all kinds in the waste ground. Here, too, it has a field for exercising its singular acquisitiveness. Wonderful is the variety of objects which it accumulates in its museum of a nest, which, professedly a complication of sticks, may comprise also a few dozen labels stolen from a Botanic Garden, an old tooth-brush, a child's cap, part of a worsted stocking, a frill, etc. Waterton,[11] who strongly defends it from the charge of molesting either the eggs or young of pigeons, professes himself unable to account for its pertinacious habit of collecting sticks for a nest placed where no such support is seemingly necessary, and, cunning though it is, comments on its want of adroitness in introducing sticks into its hole: 'You may see the Jackdaw', he says, 'trying for a quarter of an hour to get a stick into the hole, while every attempt will be futile, because, the bird having laid hold of it by the middle, it is necessarily thrown at right angles with the body, and the Daw cannot perceive that the stick ought to be nearly parallel with its body before it can be conveyed into the hole. Fatigued at length with repeated efforts, and completely foiled in its numberless attempts to introduce the stick, it lets it fall to the ground, and immediately goes in quest of another, probably to experience another disappointment on its return. When time and chance have enabled it to place a quantity of sticks at the bottom of the hole, it then goes to seek for materials of a more pliant and a softer nature.' These are usually straw, wool, and feathers; but, as we have seen, nothing comes amiss that catches its fancy. In addition to rocks, towers, and hollow trees, it sometimes places its nest in chimneys or in rabbit-burrows, but never, or in the rarest instances, among the open boughs of a tree. It lays from four to six eggs, and feeds its young on worms and insects, which it brings home in the pouch formed by the loose skin at the base of its beak. When domesticated, its droll trickeries and capability of imitating the human voice and other sounds are well known. By turns affectionate, quarrelsome, impudent, confiding, it is always inquisitive, destructive, and given to purloining; so that however popular at first as a pet, it usually terminates its career by some unregretted accident, or is consigned to captivity in a wicker cage.

[11] Essays on Natural History. First Series, p. 109.

THE RAVEN

CORVUS CÓRAX

Plumage black with purple reflections; tail rounded, black, extending two inches beyond the closed wings; beak strong, black as well as the feet; iris with two circles, the inner grey, the outer ash-brown. Length twenty-five inches; width four feet. Eggs dirty green, spotted and speckled with brown.

The Raven, the largest of the Corvidæ, and possessing in an eminent degree all the characteristics of its tribe except sociability, is the bird which beyond all others has been regarded with feelings of awe by the superstitious in all ages. In both instances in which specific mention of it occurs in Holy Writ, it is singled out from among other birds as gifted with a mysterious intelligence. Sent forth by Noah when the ark rested on the mountains of Ararat, it perhaps found a congenial home among the lonely crags strewed with the carcases of drowned animals, and by failing to return, announced to the patriarch that a portion of the earth, though not one fit for his immediate habitation, was uncovered by the waters. At a subsequent period, honoured with the mission of supplying the persecuted prophet with food, it was taught to suppress its voracious instinct by the God who gave it. The Raven figures prominently in most heathen mythologies, and is almost everywhere regarded with awe by the ignorant even at the present time. In Scandinavian mythology it was an important actor; and all readers of Shakespeare must be familiar with passages which prove it to have been regarded as a bird of dire omen.

The sad presaging Raven tolls

The sick man's passport in her hollow beak.

And in the shadow of the silent night

Doth shake contagion from her sable wing.

Marlowe.

In the Judgment of others, its friendly mission to the Tishbite invested it with a sanctity which preserved it from molestation.

Apart from all traditional belief, the Raven derives its ill-omened character as a herald of death from the rapidity with which it discerns, in the vicinity of its haunts, the carcase of any dead animal. In the coldest winter days, at Hudson's Bay, when every kind of effluvium is greatly checked if not arrested by frost, buffaloes and other beasts have been killed when not one of these birds was to be seen; but in a few hours scores of them have been found collected about the spot to pick up the blood and offal. 'In Ravens', says a writer in the Zoologist,'the senses of smell and sight are remarkably acute and powerful. Perched usually on some tall cliff that commands a wide survey, these faculties are in constant and rapid exercises, and all the movements of the bird are regulated in accordance with the information thus procured. The smell of death is so grateful to them that they utter a loud croak of satisfaction instantly on perceiving it. In passing any sheep, if a tainted smell is perceptible, they cry vehemently. From this propensity in the Raven to announce his satisfaction in the smell of death has probably arisen the common notion that he is aware of its approach among the human race, and foretells it by his croakings.' The same observant author, as quoted by Macgillivray, says again: 'Their sight and smell are very acute, for when they are searching the wastes for provision, they hover over them at a great height; and yet a sheep will not be dead many minutes before they will find it. Nay, if a morbid smell transpire from any in the flock, they will watch it for days till it die.'

To such repasts they are guided more by scent than by sight, for though they not unfrequently ascend to a great height in the air, they do not then appear to be on the look-out for food. This duty is performed more conveniently and with greater success by beating over the ground at a low elevation. In these expeditions they do not confine themselves to carrion, but prey indiscriminately on all animals which they are quick enough to capture and strong enough to master. Hares, rabbits, rats, mice, lizards, game of various kinds, eggs, and the larger insects, all of these enter into their diet, and, wanting these, they resort to the sea-shore for refuse fish, or ransack dunghills in villages, before the inhabitants are astir, for garbage of all sorts. Pliny even relates that in a certain district of Asia Minor they were trained to hawk for game like the noble Falcons. Few of these qualifications tend to endear them to mankind; and as they are dreaded by shepherds on account of their being perhaps more than suspected of making away with sickly lambs when occasion offers, and of plundering poultry yards, Ravens are become, in populous districts, almost unknown birds. I have only seen them myself on the rocky sea-shore of Devon and Cornwall, in the wilds of Dartmoor, and the Highlands of Scotland. There was for many successive years a nest built on a ledge of granite near the Bishop Rock, in Cornwall, a huge mass of sticks, and what appeared to be grass, inaccessible from below, but commanded by a venturous climber from above. Where it still continues to breed inland, it places its nest, constructed of sticks and lined with the wool and fur of its victims, either on an inaccessible rock, or near the summit of a lofty tree, the ill-omened 'Raven-tree' of romances. In the north of Scotland, in the Orkneys and Hebrides, where it is still abundant, it builds its nest in cliffs which it judges to be inaccessible, both inland and on the sea-shore, showing no marked preference for either. Two pairs never frequent the same locality, nor is any other bird of prey permitted to establish itself in their vicinity. Even the Eagle treats the Raven with respect, and leaves it to its solitude, not so much from fear of its prowess, as worn out by its pertinacious resistance of all dangerous intruders. Hence, in some districts, shepherds encourage Ravens, because they serve as a repellent to Eagles; while in others, where Eagles are of unusual occurrence, they allow them to build their nests undisturbed, but when the young are almost fledged, destroy them by throwing stones at them from above. Nevertheless the original pair continues to haunt the same locality for an indefinite term of years, and it is not a little singular that if one of them be killed, the survivor will find a mate in an incredibly short space of time.

The geographical range of the Raven is very extensive. Throughout all the zones of the Northern Hemisphere it is to be found; and having this wide range, its physical constitution is strong, and it lives to a great age, amounting, so the ancients tell us, to twenty-seven times the period of a man's life. The note of the Raven is well described by the word 'croak', but it is said by those who have had the opportunity of observing it under various circumstances, to utter another sound, resembling the word 'whii-ur'. With this cry it very commonly intermixes another, sounding like 'clung', uttered very much as by a human voice, only a little wilder in the sound. From the cry croak the Raven no doubt derives its Latin name Corvus the French Corbeau, and its common Scotch appellation Corbie.

THE CARRION CROW

CORVUS CORÓNE

Black, with green and violet reflections; tail slightly rounded, extending an inch and a quarter beyond the closed wings; iris dark hazel; lower part of the beak covered with bristly feathers; beak and feet black. Length nineteen inches; breadth three feet. Eggs bluish green, spotted and speckled with ash-grey and olive.

Breeding early in the year, like the Raven, the Carrion Crow builds its nest in some tree which, from its loftiness or other reason, is difficult of ascent, where its young ones are hatched about the time that most other birds are laying their eggs, and when the lambing season is at its height. Then, too, its habits are most fully developed. Its young are clamorous for food, and will not be satisfied with a little. So the old bird sallies forth to scour the districts least frequented by man, and makes every living thing its prey, provided that by force or cunning it can overpower it. If Grouse are plentiful, it is said that one pair, what with stealing the eggs and carrying off the young, will in a season destroy more of them than the keenest sportsman. It will pounce on the leveret and bear it screaming from the side of its mother. It watches sheep which have strayed from the fold, and mangles the newly-born or weakly lambs, carrying them piece-meal to the young ones at home. If mowers are at work, the wary birds alight on some lofty tree, taking care to keep at a safe distance, and when a nest has been laid bare by the scythe, their incredibly sharp eye discerns the prize which, whether it consist of eggs or callow young, is borne off in triumph. Lest their depredations should be discovered by the accumulation of egg-shells, feathers and bones, which are the natural consequence of these raids, they carefully carry to some distance everything that would tend to betray them, so that one might pass directly beneath the scene of these enormities unsuspicious of the evil existing overhead. Keen as this bird is in pursuit of such delicate fare, he can be, when occasion serves, as unclean a feeder as the Vulture, and he can, on the other hand, make a meal off corn. Mr. Knox states that in the Weald of Sussex, where the Raven is common, it resorts to the brooks and ponds, which abound in fresh-water mussels (Anodon), and feeds on them most voraciously, especially after floods, when they lie scattered on the mud. The same author states that in winter it resorts to the sea-shore, and feeds on the oysters, mussels, small crabs, marine insects, worms, and dead fish which are cast up by the waves during the prevalent south-westerly storms. It has been frequently observed, he adds, to ascend to a great height in the air with an oyster in its claws, and after letting it fall on the beach, to descend rapidly with closed pinions and devour the contents. A similar instance of apparent reasoning is recorded of the same bird by Pliny, but with the substitution of walnuts for oysters.

With such wandering habits, it seems at first sight strange that the phrase 'as the Crow flies' should be adopted to mark distances in a straight line across the open country; yet when it is borne in mind how many persons confound the Crow with the Rook, and even talk of the 'Crows in a rookery', the suggestion will at once occur to the mind that the term owed its origin to its far gentler and more respectable relation, the Rook, whose evening flights from the feeding-ground are among the most familiar sights of the country, and are invariably performed in a line so straight, that if a whole flock could be tracked through the air on any one evening it would be found scarcely to deviate from that of the preceding or the following. It is to be feared that this inaccurate application of names has done the Rook ill service; yet the two birds are totally distinct; Crows are solitary birds, rarely being seen in more than pairs together; Rooks are eminently sociable. Crows shun the haunts of men; Rooks court the vicinity of his dwellings. Crows are carnivorous; Rooks feed principally on the grubs of beetles, worms, and noxious insects, rewarding themselves occasionally for their services by regaling on corn and fruits, but rarely touching carrion or molesting living animals. In appearance the two birds are much alike; the Crow, however, is somewhat smaller, the beak is stouter at the point and encircled at the base with numerous short feathers, while the bill of the Rook is encroached on by a white membrane which is almost bare of feathers. Both are noted for their intelligence; the Crow has been known to remove its eggs from its nest when apprehensive of danger; it was held in high consideration in the days of augury, and certain of its movements were considered to be indicative of changes in the weather. It builds its nest of sticks, and lines it with moss, straw, hair, and wool, and lays from four to six eggs. Like the Raven, it is a widely-diffused bird, and attains a great age, outliving (the ancients said) nine generations of men, showing great attachment to any spot in which it has once fixed its home, and suffering neither its own progeny nor any other large birds to nestle in its vicinity.

This Crow is becoming more numerous of late in the close vicinity of London. It comes constantly to some of our suburban gardens.

THE HOODED CROW, GREY OR ROYSTON CROW

CORVUS CORNIX

Head, throat, wings and tail black, the rest of the plumage ash-grey; tail rounded; beak and feet black; iris brown. Length nineteen and a half inches; breadth three feet two inches. Eggs bluish green, mottled with ash-grey and olive.

The Hooded Crow closely resembles the Carrion Crow, scarcely differing from it in fact except in colour. They are, however, perfectly distinct species, and for the most part exercise their calling in separate haunts. In Norway Hooded Crows are very abundant, to the almost total exclusion of the Carrion Crow and Rook, and, though not congregating so as to form a society like the last-named bird, they may be seen simultaneously employed in searching for food in groups which collectively amount to a hundred or more. Though numerous in the winter at Newmarket Heath and Royston (where they are sometimes called Royston Crows), and annually resorting to many parts of the sea-coast, they rarely breed so far south. In the Isle of Man, the Orkneys, Hebrides, and in all but the south of Scotland they are of more frequent occurrence than any other of the tribe, essentially belonging to the 'Land of the mountain and the flood'. It is on the increase in Ireland and very unwelcome there. One can scarcely traverse the shores of the salt-water lochs of Scotland without seeing a pair, or, in the latter part of the year, a small party of four or five of these birds, gravely pacing the shingle and sand in quest of food. As far as my own experience goes, I should consider the Hooded Crow as 'half sea-bird', but it is said to be met with, in summer, in the very centre of the Grampians and other inland districts. Its proper diet consists of the smaller marine animals, such as crabs, echini, and molluscs, alive or dead, fish and carrion. At high-water it retires inland, and skulks about the low grounds in quest of the eggs and young of Moor-fowl, thereby gaining the execrations of gamekeepers; takes a survey of any adjacent sheep-walks, on the chance of falling in with a new-born lamb, or sickly ewe, whence it has but an ill name among shepherds; and returns when the tide has well ebbed, to finish the day's repast on food of a nature light and easy of digestion. It is less wary of man than the Carrion Crow, and often comes within shot, but, being far too numerous to admit of being exterminated, is but little assailed. In the comparatively mild climate of the Scottish sea-coast, these birds find an abundant supply of food all the year round and as there is no sensible diminution of their numbers in winter, it is supposed that those which frequent the English coast from October to March have been driven southwards by the inclement winters of high latitudes. They are then frequently observed on the coast of Norfolk and Sussex in parties of thirty or more, and it has been remarked that the hunting grounds of the two species are defined by singularly precise limits, the neighbourhood of Chichester being frequented by the Carrion Crow, that of Brighton by its congener. It is abundant on the sea-coast of Norfolk in the winter, where I have seen it feeding with Gulls, Plovers, etc. In musical capabilities it is inferior even to its relative, its solitary croak being neither so loud nor so clear. The nest of the Hooded Crow is large, composed of twigs, sea-weeds, heath, feathers, and straws, and is placed on rocks, tall trees, low bushes, and elsewhere, according to circumstances.

THE ROOK

CORVUS FRÚGILEGUS

Plumage black, with purple and violet reflections; base of the beak, nostrils; and region round the beak bare of feathers and covered with a white scurf, iris greyish white; beak and feet black. Length eighteen inches; breadth three feet. Eggs pale green, thickly blotched with olive and dark-brown.

As the Hooded Crow is essentially the type of the Corvidæ in Scandinavia and the Isles of Scotland, where the Carrion Crow and Rook are all but unknown, so in England the representative of the tribe is the Rook, a bird so like the Crow that it is called by its name almost as frequently as by its own, yet so different in habits that, instead of being under a perpetual and universal ban, it is everywhere encouraged and indeed all but domesticated. There are few English parks that do not boast of their rookery, and few proprietors of modern demesnes pretending to be parks, who would not purchase at a high price the air of antiquity and respectability connected with an established colony of these birds. Owing to their large size and the familiarity with which they approach the haunts of men, they afford a facility in observing their habits which belongs to no other birds; hence all treatises on Natural History, and other publications which enter into the details of country life in England, abound in anecdotes of the Rook. Its intelligence, instinctive appreciation of danger, voracity, its utility or the reverse, its nesting, its morning repasts and its evening flights, have all been observed and more or less faithfully recorded again and again; so that its biography is better known than that of any other British bird. It would be no difficult task to compile from these materials a good-sized volume, yet I doubt not that enough remains untold, or at least not sufficiently authenticated, to furnish a fair field of inquiry to any competent person who would undertake to devote his whole attention to this one bird for a considerable period of time. Such a biographer should make himself master of all that has been recorded by various authorities, and should then visit a large number of rookeries in all parts of the kingdom, collecting and sifting evidence, making a series of personal observations, and spreading his researches over all seasons of the year. Such an inquiry, trivial though it may seem, would be most useful, for the Rook, though it has many friends, has also many enemies, and, being everywhere abundant, its agency for good or evil must have serious results. The following account being imperfect from want of space, the reader who wishes to know more about this interesting bird must refer to our standard works on Ornithology, and, above all, record and compare his own personal observations.

In the early spring months Rooks subsist principally on the larvæ and worms turned up by the plough, and without gainsay, they are then exceedingly serviceable to the agriculturist, by destroying a vast quantity of noxious insects which, at this period of their growth, feed on the leaves or roots of cultivated vegetables. Experience has taught them that the ploughman either has not the power or the desire to molest them; they therefore approach the plough with perfect fearlessness, and show much rivalry in their efforts to be first to secure the treasures just turned up. During the various processes to which the ground is subjected in preparation for the crop, they repeat their visits, spreading more widely over the field, and not only pick up the grubs which lie on the surface, but bore for such as, by certain signs best known to themselves, lie concealed. I need not say that in all these stages the wisdom of the farmer is to offer them every inducement to remain; all that they ask is to be let alone. Not so, however, when the seed-crop is sown. Grain, pulse, and potatoes are favourite articles of diet with them, and they will not fail to attack these as vigorously as they did the grubs a few days before. They are therefore undeniably destructive at this season, and all available means should be adopted to deter them from alighting on cultivated ground. About the second week in March they desert the winter roosting places, to which they had nightly congregated in enormous flocks, leave off their wandering habits, and repair as if by common consent to their old breeding places. Here, with much cawing and bustling, they survey the ruins of their old nests, or select sites for new ones, being guided by their instinct to avoid all those trees the upper branches of which are too brittle for their purpose either because the trees are sickly or in an incipient state of decay. Hence, when it has occasionally happened that a nestless tree in a rookery has been blown down, the birds have been saluted as prophets, while in reality the tree yielded to the blast before its fellows because it was unsound, the Rooks knowing nothing about the matter except that signs of decay had set in among the upper twigs while as yet all seemed solid beneath. How the birds squabble about their nests, how they punish those thievishly disposed, how they drive away intruders from strange rookeries, how scrupulously they avoid, during building, to pick up a stick that has chanced to drop, how the male bird during incubation feeds his mate with the most luscious grubs brought home in the baggy pouch at the base of his bill, how every time that a bird caws while perched he strains his whole body forward and expands his wings with the effort, all these things, and many more, I must pass over without further notice, leaving them to be verified by the reader with the help of a good field-glass. I must, however, mention, in passing, the custom so generally adopted by sportsmen, of shooting the young birds as soon as they are sufficiently fledged to climb from their nests to the adjoining twigs, or to perform their first tentative flight over the summits of the trees. It is supposed to be necessary to keep down their numbers, but this is a disputed point. I have, however, little doubt that Rooks during the whole of their lives associate the memory of these battues with the appearance of a man armed with a gun. Many people believe that Rooks know the smell of powder: they have good reason to know it; but that they are as much alarmed at the sight of a stick as a gun in the hand of a man, may be proved by any one who, chancing to pass near a flock feeding on the ground, suddenly raises a stick. They will instantly fly off, evidently in great alarm.

While the young are being reared, the parent birds frequent corn-fields and meadows, where they search about for those plants which indicate the presence of a grub at the root. Such they unscrupulously uproot, and make a prize of the destroyer concealed beneath. They are much maligned for this practise, but without reason; for, admitting that they kill the plant as well as the grub, it must be borne in mind that several of the grubs on which they feed (cockchafer and daddy-longlegs) live for several years underground, and that, during that period, they would if left undisturbed, have committed great ravages. I have known a large portion of a bed of lettuces destroyed by a single grub of Melolontha, having actually traced its passage underground from root to root, and found it devouring the roots of one which appeared as yet unhurt. Clearly, a Rook would have done me a service by uprooting the first lettuce, and capturing its destroyer.

I must here advert to a peculiar characteristic of the Rook which distinguishes it specifically from the Crow. The skin surrounding the base of the bill, and covering the upper part of the throat, is, in the adult birds, denuded of feathers. Connected with this subject many lengthy arguments have been proposed in support of two distinct opinions: one, that the bareness above mentioned is occasioned by the repeated borings of the bird for its food; the other, that the feathers fall off naturally at the first moult, and are never replaced. I am inclined to the latter view, and that for two reasons: first, if it be necessary (and that is not at all clear) that the Rook, in order to supply itself with food, should have no feathers at the base of its bill, I believe that nature would not have resorted to so clumsy a contrivance, and one so annoying to the bird, as that of wearing them away bit by bit: and, secondly, the bare spot is, as far as I have observed, of the same size and shape in all birds, and at all periods of the year, a uniformity which can scarcely be the result of digging in soils of various kinds, and at all seasons. I cannot, therefore, but think that the appearance in question is the result of a law in the natural economy of the bird, that the feathers are not rubbed off, but fall off, and that they are not renewed, because nature never intended that they should grow there permanently; if not, why is there no similar abrasion in the Crow? The number of lambs eaten by Crows is very small after all, and birds' eggs are not always in season, nor is carrion so very abundant; so that, during a great portion of the year, even Crows must dig for their livelihood, and the great distinction between a Crow and a Rook is, that the former has actually no bare space at the base of his bill. But the question is still open, and the reader may make his own observations, which in Natural History, as well as in many other things, are far better than other people's theories.

In very dry summer weather, Rooks are put to great shifts in obtaining food. Grubs and worms descend to a great depth to get beyond the influence of the drought, and the soil is too parched and hard for digging; they then retire to the sea-shore, to marshes, fresh-water and salt, to cabbage and potato gardens, and in the last-named localities they are again disposed to become marauders. To fruit gardens they are rarely permitted to resort, or they would commit great ravages. As the season advances, ripe walnuts are a very powerful attraction, and when they have discovered a tree well supplied with fruit, a race ensues between them and the proprietor as to which shall appropriate the greater share, so slyly do they watch for opportunities, and so quick are they in gathering them and carrying them off in their beaks. In long winter frosts, or when the ground is covered with snow, they are again reduced to straits. Some resort to the sea-shore and feed on garbage of all kinds, some to turnip-fields where they dig holes in the bulbs. They have also been observed to chase and kill small birds, which, as near starvation as themselves, have been unable to fly beyond their reach, and I have even seen a Rook catch a small fish.

I must not conclude this imperfect sketch without noticing a peculiar habit of Rooks, which is said to portend rain. A flock will suddenly rise into the air almost perpendicularly, with great cawing and curious antics, until they have reached a great elevation, and then, having attained their object, whatever that may be, drop with their wings almost folded till within a short distance of the ground, when they recover their propriety, and alight either on trees or on the ground with their customary grave demeanour. Occasionally in autumn, as White of Selborne remarks,

Sooth'd by the genial warmth, the cawing Rook

Anticipates the spring, selects her mate,

Haunts her tall nests, and with sedulous care

Repairs her wicker eyrie, tempest torn.

Similar instances of this unseasonable pairing are recorded by modern ornithologists.

Efforts are sometimes made, and not always unsuccessfully, to induce Rooks to establish a colony in a new locality. One plan is to place some eggs taken from a Rook's nest in that of some large bird which has happened to build in the desired spot, that of a Crow for instance, a Magpie, Jackdaw, Jay, or perhaps a Mistle Thrush. If the young are reared, it is probable that they will return to breed in the same place in the following year. Another plan which has been tried with success is to place several bundles of sticks, arranged in the form of nests, among the highest branches of the trees which it is desired to colonize. Stray Rooks in quest of a settlement, mistaking these for ruins of old nests, accept the invitation and establish themselves if the locality suits them in other respects.

During 1907-1908 the economic rôle played by the Rook has been thoroughly investigated by ornithologists and farmers all over Hungary, with the results that this bird stands as a friend rather than a foe to agriculture.

FAMILY LANIIDÆ

THE GREAT GREY SHRIKE

LANIUS EXCÚBITOR

Head, nape, and back, bright ash grey; a broad black band beneath the eyes; under plumage pure white; wings short, black; base of the primaries and tips of the secondaries white; tail with the two middle feathers black, and the outer on each side white with a black spot at the base, the rest black and white; bill and feet black. Female of a more dingy hue above; below dull white, the proportion of black in the feathers increasing as they approach the middle; each feather of the breast terminating in a crescent-shaped ash grey spot. Length ten inches; breadth fourteen inches. Eggs bluish white, spotted at the larger end with two shades of brown. Sylvan. Young barred below.

The family of Shrikes, or Butcher-birds, would seem to occupy an intermediate station between birds of prey and insectivorous birds. The subject of the present chapter especially, though little resembling a Hawk in appearance, has, on account of its habits, some pretension to be ranked among birds of prey; from which, however, it differs in the essential particular that, as well as the rest of the family, it seizes and carries off its prey with its beak and not with its claws. Although a fairly common visitor from autumn to spring this Shrike does not breed with us, and is rarer in Ireland. It derives its name excubitor (sentinel) from its favourite habit of posting itself on the topmost twig of a poplar or other lofty tree, whence it keeps up a watchful look-out, not only for its prey, but for any bird of the Hawk tribe, against which it wages incessant and deadly hostility. When it descries one of these birds, which it does at a great distance, it utters a shriek, as if for the purpose of giving an alarm, a cry which is instantly repeated by all birds of the same species which happen to be within hearing. This antipathy against birds of prey is taken advantage of by fowlers in France, who, when setting their nets for hawks, take with them a 'sentinel' Shrike and station it near the living bird, which they employ as a lure. So rapid is the swoop of the Falcon that but for the warning cry of the Shrike it would descend and carry off its victim before the fowler had time to close his nets; but the keen eye of the sentinel detects, and his shrill cry announces, the approach of his enemy, and the fowler has time to prepare. The principal food of this bird appears to be mice, frogs, lizards and insects, especially the stag-beetle and grasshopper, though in its natural state it will capture and destroy any birds inferior to itself in strength and courage. Its name Lanius (Latin for butcher) and Butcher-bird were given to it from its habit of impaling beetles and small birds on thorns in the vicinity of its nest. Its flight is peculiar, being composed of a series of dips, like that of the Wagtail; and when it quits its perch on the summit of one tall tree to fly to another, it drops and rises again so as to form a curve like that of a loose rope hung from two tall masts. Another peculiarity of the Shrike is a remarkable power of imitating the song of other birds, which it is said to exercise in order to obtain its food more easily, by beguiling the nestlings of the smaller birds into answering it by a chirrup, and so betraying their retreat. The notes which it has been observed to imitate are those of the Nightingale, Robin, Swallow, and Stonechat. Its proper note is harsh, resembling somewhat that of the Kestrel, Shake-shake! the call note is truii! Of the Lesser Grey Shrike, Lanius minor, there have been few occurrences in these Islands.

LESSER GREY SHRIKE

LANIUS MINOR

Grey above: breast and flanks roseate; wing-bar white.

Of this species only four occurrences recorded until recently—in Scilly Islands, Norfolk and Devon.

THE RED-BACKED SHRIKE

LANIUS COLLURIO

Head, nape, shoulders and upper tail-coverts ash-grey, a black band reaching from the gape to beyond the ears; back, scapulars, and wing-coverts reddish brown; throat white, passing into rose-red on the breast and flanks; wings blackish, edged with reddish brown; tail nearly even at the end, four middle feathers black tipped with reddish grey, the rest white from the base through two-thirds of their length, the other third black with a white tip; second primary longer than the fifth. Female—upper plumage rusty brown, tinged near the nape and tail with ash-grey; lower white, the sides barred transversely by narrow curved lines; outer webs and tips of the outer tail feathers yellowish white, four middle ones uniform dusky brown. Length seven inches; breadth eleven inches. Eggs cream-coloured, greenish, or delicate grey variously mottled and spotted with light brown and ash-grey.

The Red-backed Shrike, though not generally diffused throughout England, is to certain localities a far from uncommon wanderer, but for some reason it has been scarce in 1908. In the wooded districts of the midland and southern counties many specimens may be annually observed, and the nest is of frequent occurrence. This is usually placed a few feet from the ground, in the middle of a thick bush or hedge; and, very unlike that of the rapacious birds, is a massive, well-built structure of twigs, dry grass, and moss, lined with hair and fine roots. This bird is called in France l'êcorcheur (the flayer), from the custom ascribed to it of skinning the bodies of its victims before devouring them. Its habits and food are similar to those of the last species, and it is said also to possess the same imitative power. That it impales insects and even young birds on thorns there can be no doubt as it has been watched by a competent observer in the very act of thus dealing with the carcase of a hedge-sparrow.

A professional bird-catcher told how a Red-backed Shrike once pounced on one of his call-birds (a linnet), and attempted to carry it off; but being prevented from doing so by the linnet being fastened to the ground by a string and wooden peg, the Shrike tore off the head of its victim, with which it made its escape. The bird-catcher then drew out from the ground the peg which held down the linnet, and left the dead bird lying in the net. In about half an hour the Shrike again appeared, pounced upon the body of the dead linnet, and carried it off in its beak, with the string and peg hanging to it; the weight of the latter was probably the cause of the Shrike not carrying its prey quite away, as it dropped it after flying about fifteen yards, when the bird-catcher again picked up the dead linnet, and replaced it in the net. The Shrike in the meantime retreated to some neighbouring bushes, from which it soon made a third pounce upon the nets, this time attacking the second call-bird, which was a sparrow. On this occasion, however, the bird-catcher was on the watch, and, drawing his nets, captured the Shrike, which proved to be an adult female. This daring act was observed late in the month of June, when, perhaps, the courage of the mother bird was unusually excited by the cravings of her brood at home, and further stimulated by the impression that the call-birds were in trouble, and consequently offered an easy prey.

An amiable trait in the character of this Shrike is its attachment to its mate and young. A female has been known to approach so close to the cage in which her captured lord was confined, that she was herself easily taken; and when a nest of young birds is molested, both parents defend their offspring with astonishing intrepidity.

The Red-backed Shrike is known to us only as a summer visitor, departing early in autumn. Its note is a harsh chuck! but the song of the mate is somewhat pleasant.

WOODCHAT SHRIKE

LANIUS POMERÁNUS

Forehead and cheeks black; nape bright rust colour; back and wings variegated with black, white, and reddish brown; under parts white; outer tail feathers white, with a square black spot at the base on the inner web, the two next with the black spot larger, and on both webs, the two middle ones wholly black, the rest black tipped with white; tail slightly rounded; second primary equal in length to the fifth. Female—all her colours dingy; breast marked transversely with fine brown lines. Length, seven and a half inches. Eggs bluish white, spotted at the larger end with brown and ash-grey.

The habits of this bird, which is a very rare visitant to the British Isles, differ in no material respect from those of the foregoing species. On the Continent it is more frequent in the south than the north, where it frequents trees rather than bushes, and generally places its nest, which it constructs of twigs, moss, and white lichen, in the forked branch of an oak. Like the rest of the family it is migratory, coming and departing at the same time as the other species.

FAMILY AMPELIDÆ

THE WAXWING

ÁMPELIS GÁRRULUS

Feathers of the head elongated, forming a crest; upper plumage purplish red; lower the same, but of a lighter tint; throat and lore black; greater wing-coverts black, tipped with white; primaries black, with a yellow or white angular spot near the extremity, six or eight of the secondaries and tertiaries having the shaft prolonged and terminating in a substance resembling red sealing-wax; tail black, tipped with yellow. Length eight inches. Eggs pale blue, with a few streaks of brown and lilac.

The Waxwing is an elegant bird, of about the size of a Thrush. It visits this country, and in fact every other European country where it is known at all, at irregular intervals, generally in flocks, which vary in number from eight or ten to some scores. Thus it is everywhere a stranger; and little was known till recently of its nesting habits. It is perhaps on account of this ignorance of its natural history, that it has borne a variety of names which are as inappropriate as possible. Temminck describes it under the name Bombycivora, or devourer of Bombyx, a large moth, a name quite unfit for a bird which lives exclusively on fruits and berries. This was softened into Bombycilla, which means, I presume, a little Bombyx, though the bird in question is far larger than any known moth. Its French name Jaseur, equivalent to the English one, Chatterer, is quite as inappropriate, as it is singularly silent. In default of all certain information, then, I venture to surmise that, coming in parties no one knows whence, and going no one knows whither, they may have received the name Bohemian, because they resemble in their habits the wandering tribes of gypsies, who were formerly called indifferently Egyptians and Bohemians. Taken in this sense, the Bohemian or Wandering Waxwing, as it used to be called, is a name open to no exception. The plumage of the bird is silky, and that of the head is remarkable for forming a crest, and being capable of being elevated, as in the Cardinal. Its black gorget and tiara, the patches of white, yellow, and black described above, make it very conspicuous for colouring, and the singularity of its appearance is much increased by the appendages to its secondaries and tertiaries, which resemble in colour and substance red sealing-wax. In very old birds these waxen appendages are also to be found at the extremities of the tail-feathers, being no more than the shafts of the feathers, condensed with the web. In its habits the Waxwing resembles the Tits. It feeds on insects, fruit, berries, and seeds. Its call-note is a twitter, which it rarely utters, except when taking flight and alighting. The Waxwing is a northern bird, and Dr. Richardson, the Arctic traveller, informs us that he one day saw a flock, consisting of three or four hundred birds, alight on one or two trees in a grove of poplars, making a loud twittering noise. One of its German names, Schneevogel (snowbird), was evidently given in this belief. It is sometimes caught and caged, but has nothing but its beautiful colouring to recommend it. It is a stupid lazy bird, occupied only in eating and reposing for digestion. Its song is weak and uncertain.

FAMILY MUSCICAPIDÆ

Muscicapidæ.—Nostrils more or less covered by bristly hairs

THE SPOTTED FLYCATCHER

MUSCÍCAPA GRÍSOLA

Upper plumage ash-brown; feathers of the head marked with a central dark line; under parts white, the sides marked with longitudinal brown streaks; flanks tinged with red. Length six inches; breadth ten inches. Eggs bluish white, mottled with reddish spots, which are deepest in colour towards the larger end.

There are few birds with whose haunts and habits we are more familiar than those of the common Flycatcher. In the wooded parts of England there is scarcely a country house, perhaps, which has not in its neighbourhood at least a single pair of these birds, who, though their stay with us is but short, become as necessary appendages of the garden during the summer months as the Redbreast is in winter. They have neither song to recommend them nor brilliancy of colouring; yet the absence of these qualities is more than compensated by the confidence they repose in the innocent intentions of the human beings whose protection they claim, by their strong local attachments, and by their unceasing activity in the pursuit of flying insects. At any time during the months of June, July, and August, in most country and suburban gardens, one may observe perched on a railing, standard rose, or the low branch of an apple-tree, a small brownish bird, with a speckled breast, about the size of a Sparrow, but more slender in form, taking no notice of human beings, but nevertheless evidently on the look-out for something. Suddenly it darts from its position, flies rapidly forwards for a few yards, performs an evolution in the air, and returns either to the exact spot which it had previously occupied or to a similar one hard by. After a rest of a few seconds, it performs the same manœuvre, and always with the same object and success. Every time it quitted its perch, some ill-fated fly or beetle was discovered, winging its way through the air, and captured to be devoured on the spot, or to form part of a pellet of insect food for a hungry nestling. The nest, composed of moss, straws, and hair, and lined with feathers, is usually placed either against a wall, hidden by the leaves of a trained fruit-tree, or on the horizontal bough of a standard apple-tree. During the year 1859, a pair of these birds had taken up their quarters in my own garden in a situation such as that first described, but becoming dissatisfied with the locality even after the nest had received its complement of eggs—five—deserted it, and built another nest in an apple-tree a few yards off, choosing a position on a short branch, where their workmanship was concealed from the sight of passengers by a cluster of large apples. The bough overhung a path by which many persons passed to and fro every day; but the nest was built, and the old birds hatched their eggs, neither noticed nor noticing, until one day when I happened to stop underneath, upon which the bird took flight, and so revealed her place of retreat. I do not mention this incident as anything remarkable, but simply to exemplify the habits of the bird when it has taken up its residence in a frequented garden, and in contrast with its treatment of intruders when it has chosen a more secluded spot for a home. A few days after, I happened to be fly-fishing on the bank of a stream close to which grew some tall elm-trees. Under one of these I was pursuing my amusement, when a flycatcher darted from a tree on the opposite side of the stream, and flew so close to my face that to dip my head out of the way was unavoidable. The same movement was repeated again and again, making it impossible for me to persist. Suspecting that there was a nest somewhere very near me, I looked up and discovered, within a few inches of my head, a nest built against the hole of the tree, and containing four or five nearly fledged young ones, whose heads and breasts projected considerably beyond the edge of their mossy cradle. As I moved away, the parent bird hopped about uneasily in a neighbouring tree, uttering its monotonous and unmusical chirrup, but molested me no further. It would seem then that the garden bird, grown familiar with the human form, was unsuspicious of danger, while the other, who had not been accustomed to see her sanctuary approached, immediately took alarm. It is supposed that the same birds are in the habit of returning annually to their old resort. Both the above incidents tend to give weight to this opinion: one of the birds having been reared, probably in the garden, and so having been accustomed to the sight of men from the first; the other having been always a recluse. The fact which fell under my own notice, that a nest was built, and a brood reared for three successive years in exactly the same spot, is, I think, conclusive evidence that either the same birds or their immediate descendants were the architects, it being scarcely credible that three several pairs of birds should have fixed on the same spot by accident. Mr. Denham Weir has observed that the Spotted Flycatcher consumes only a day and a half in the construction of its nest, and that a pair of birds which he watched fed their young no less than five hundred and thirty-seven times in one day, beginning at twenty-five minutes before four o'clock in the morning, and ending at ten minutes before nine in the evening. The young birds assume the adult plumage in their first year, and soon learn to hawk for their prey as well as their parents. I have recorded elsewhere an instance in which the parent birds contrived to feed a disabled young one after it had left the nest. The Flycatcher arrives in England about the end of April, and leaves about the end of September.

THE PIED FLYCATCHER

MUSCÍCAPA ATRICAPILLA

Upper plumage and tail black, the wings black, with the central coverts white; scapulars edged with white; under plumage white. In the female the black is replaced by greyish brown, the white is dingy, and the three lateral tail feathers are edged with white. Length five inches. Eggs pale blue, generally without spots.

The Pied Flycatcher, so called from its feathers being varied with black and white, is a smaller bird than the preceding, and by no means so common, being very local as a breeder. It appears, indeed, to be mainly confined to the northern counties of England, where it arrives about the middle of April, and builds its nest of dry leaves, small roots, grass, and a little hair, loosely put together, in the hole of a tree. There it lays from five to seven pale blue eggs, very like, both in size and colour, those of the Redstart, which it also much resembles in habits. It has more claim to be considered a songster than the Spotted Flycatcher. In places where it is frequent it is often observed to settle on the decayed stump of a tree, constantly repeating its short, little varied, but far from unpleasing song, every now and then interrupted by the pursuit and capture of some passing insect. It is said also to be very noisy and clamorous when its nest is approached. It quits our shores in September.

FAMILY HIRUNDINIDÆ

THE SWALLOW

HIRUNDO RÚSTICA

Forehead and throat chestnut-brown; upper parts, sides of the neck, and a bar across the breast black, with violet reflections; lower parts dull reddish white; tail very long and forked. Female—with less red on the forehead and less black on the breast; under parts whiter; outer tail-feathers shorter. Length six inches and a half, width thirteen inches and a quarter. Eggs white, spotted with brown and dark red.

There are many features in the life of the Swallow so prominent, that no undomesticated bird is more thoroughly known. Like the Sparrow, it accompanies man wherever he fixes his dwelling; but, unlike the Sparrow, it is liable to be mistaken for no other bird; its flight is peculiar and all but ceaseless; at least, it is rarely seen except in motion; and it is absent during the greater portion of the year, so giving to itself a twofold notoriety, being regretted at the season of its departure and welcomed at its return. These three circumstances, its migratory habits, its mode of flight, and attachment to the dwellings of man, have been the cause why, in all ages, it has been invested with especial interest. Its return is universally greeted as prophetic of summer weather; the very proverb that 'one Swallow does not make a summer', only indicates a popular belief; and its departure is among the first intimations of approaching winter. The Swallow consequently is the type of migratory birds; if the Swallow is come, all take it for granted that the other summer birds have arrived, and when its twitter is no longer heard, we know that all the other birds of passage are gone or going. Of the Swallow, therefore, it is said pre-eminently, "God sends us the Swallow in the first days of summer, to relieve us of the insects which the summer suns are calling into life. The home of the Swallow is all the habitable earth; it knows nothing of winter or winter's cold." In remote ages the Swallow was considered to be endowed with supernatural intelligence; it refused to build its nest in a certain town because it was polluted with crime; in another, because it had been frequently burnt down; it foretold tempests; and, above all, it was noted for having taught men the healing properties of a certain herb,[12] by employing it to give sight to its young. Not only was it thus skilled in the healing art, but was in itself a medicine of no ordinary virtue. Even in the time of our countryman Ray, not two hundred years ago, its efficacy in various complaints was seriously believed: the whole body burnt was considered a specific for weak eyes, quinsy and inflamed uvula; the heart was prescribed in epilepsy and in quartan ague, it was good also for strengthening the memory; the blood was good for the eyes, especially if drawn from under the right wing: a little stone sometimes found in the stomach of young birds, called chelidonius, tied to the arm, or hung around the neck, was a remedy against children's fits. This was to be searched for before or at the August full moon, in the eldest of a brood. Even the nest had its virtues, being, if applied externally, good for quinsy, redness of the eyes, and the bite of a viper.

A century later 'good old White' published his account of the Swallow, to which the reader is referred as an admirable model of bird-biography, not only for the age, but as an authentic history full of fresh interest to the reader in all ages. The only point on which White had doubts was whether Swallows all migrate, or whether some of the young do not occasionally stay behind, and hibernate in hollow trees, holes of rocks, and the banks of pools and rivers. Individuals are said to occasionally remain, perhaps in consequence of having been disabled by accident at the season when the migratory instinct was in its active force, or from some other cause unknown to us. Several instances of such have been recorded by authors who, whether accurate observers or not, certainly believed that they were reporting truly. That they were seen only on warm days is of course no evidence that they had been roused from a state of torpor by the unusual warmth. Sunny days in winter tempt people to walk abroad and to resort to the same places which winter-gnats would choose for their gambols. Here, too, the stray Swallow would be found; but in dark stormy weather the gnats and the Swallow would stay at home, and the ornithologist would have little temptation to do otherwise. I happen to be myself among the number of those who on personal evidence believe that individual Swallows do remain in England long after the period of general migration. I was walking through a limestone quarry at Saltram on the bank of the Plym, in Devonshire, many years ago, on the twenty-fourth of December, when I saw a Swallow, whether a Chimney Swallow or Martin, I cannot positively affirm, wheeling about, and evidently hawking for gnats near the face of the cliff. The season was a mild one, the air still, and the sun shining brightly against the limestone rocks, from which much heat was reflected. That the bird had been kept in captivity until the migratory season had passed and then released is not probable. On any other supposition it must have remained either of its own free will, which is not likely, or from incapacity to accompany its congeners. Left alone it probably found a sheltered retreat in the face of the cliff, and sallied forth whenever the weather was inviting, making the most of the short days, and, on the finest, contenting itself with a scanty meal. The temperature of the west of England in winter it is quite able to bear; in fact, it is not uncommon there for a whole winter to pass without any weather so severe as that which has characterized the whole of the present April (1860), though Swallows have returned, and contrive to find food enough to keep themselves alive. If, therefore, the bird which I saw managed to live on till Christmas Eve, there is no reason why it should not survive the whole of the winter. But as 'one Swallow does not make a spring', so neither is one sufficient to upset a theory. There remains, therefore, the rule with the one exception to prove it, that Swallows do migrate. A full account of all that has since been learnt of the Swallow's history will be found in Yarrell's British Birds. For the sake of reference only I will add a short summary of what I may term its statistics. The Swallow is a migratory bird wherever it is found, that is in most of the countries of Europe, Asia, and Africa. The first Swallows arrive in this country about the eleventh of April, and are followed by others at various intervals, until the middle or end of May. On their arrival, they resort to those places which, being most sheltered, abound most in winged insects, these being frequently the courses of rivers and canals. As the season advances, they spread themselves more generally over the country, still, however, being most numerous in the vicinity of water. In May they build their shallow open nests of mud and straw lined with feathers, a few feet down a chimney, in an outhouse, a bell-tower, the shaft of a deserted mine, or any other place which is at once dry and dark, rarely in more exposed places. They lay four or five eggs, and rear two or three broods in a season. The young being, from the usual situation of the nest, unable to leave their nursery until they are fully fledged, require to be fed a long time, but they continue to be, partially at least, dependent on the parent birds for many days after they have learnt to hawk for themselves. The process of feeding is carried on while both old and young are on the wing; or the young, perched on the top of a house or the branch of a tree, receive in turn the morsels which their more skilful parents have caught for them. In autumn, many days before migration is actually about to take place, Swallows, old and young, assemble in large flocks, especially towards evening, and roost on trees in the vicinity of water. At this season they seem to be more socially disposed, even during the day, than at any other period of their sojourn with us. In October they take their departure collectively, and so strongly is the migratory instinct then in force, that it overcomes parental affection, powerful though this feeling is in the Swallow; some of the late broods being left behind.

[12] Chelidonium: Celandine or Swallow-wort, from χελιδων, 'a Swallow'.

THE HOUSE MARTIN

CHELÍDON ÚRBICA

Head, nape and upper part of the back, black with violet reflections; lower part of the back, and all the under parts, pure white; feet and toes covered with downy feathers; tail forked, moderate. Length five inches and a half. Eggs pure white.

The swallows and the Martins are so much alike in their leading habits, namely, migration, mode of flight, and food, that a description of either will in many respects be applicable to the other. The House Martin generally arrives a few days after the Swallow, and resorts to similar localities. In the early part of the season the most sheltered places are sought out, and the two species may frequently be seen hawking for flies in company. Later in the season its numbers are observed to be greatly increased, and it is joined by the Swift and Sand Martin. Not that any society is entered into by the different species, or that they even sport together; but one may often stand on the bank of a canal, or by the margin of a pond, and see all four kinds glance by in varied succession, and in proportions which differ according as one or the other is most abundant in the neighbourhood. Acute listeners can, it is said, hear a snapping noise made by the bird as it closes its beak on a captured insect, but I must confess that though I have often tried to detect this sound, I have never succeeded. Swift as their passage is, and similar though the flight of all the species, no difficulty is found in distinguishing them. The Chimney-Swallow is sufficiently marked by its long forked tail and red chin; the House Martin by the snow-white hue of its abdomen and lower part of the back, and by its shorter tail, which is also forked; the Sand Martin by its smaller size, its greyish brown back and dirty-white under plumage, as well as by its shorter, slightly forked tail; and the Swift can be distinguished at any distance by its shape, which resembles a bent bow, with the body representing an arrow ready to be shot. On a nearer view, the Swift is marked by its general black hue relieved only by a spot of white on the chin, which it requires a sharp eye to detect. All the species have the power of suddenly, and with the greatest rapidity, altering their course by a slight movement of the wings and tail.

Immediately on its arrival in this country, the Martin pays a visit to its old dwelling, clings to its walls, peeps in or even enters many times a day. It has been proved by several experiments, that the same birds return year after year to their old nests, and it is hard to believe, so thoroughly delighted do they seem, that they are guided simply by an impassive instinct. If so, why should they hang about the 'old house at home' so many days before they begin to set in order again the future nursery? No elaborate plans of alterations and improvements are to be devised; last year's family are launched on the world, and are quite equal to building for their own accommodation. No collecting of materials is requisite. The muddy edge of the nearest pond will provide plaster enough and to spare to carry out all necessary repairs; shreds of straw are to be had for the picking up, and farmyard feathers are as plentiful as of yore. It would seem then a reasonable conclusion, that a bird endowed with an instinct powerful enough to guide it across the ocean, and a memory sufficiently powerful to lead it to the snug window corner of the same cottage where it reared its first brood, may live in the past as well as the present, and that its seeming joyousness is a reality, even mixed perhaps with hopeful anticipations of the future.

As the reader may, if he will, have ample opportunity of watching the habits of a bird that probably builds its nest under the eaves of his own house, whether he dwell in a town, a village, or a lonely cottage, it is unnecessary to enter into further details of its biography.

THE SAND MARTIN

CÓTILE RIPÁRIA

All the upper parts, cheeks, and a broad bar on the breast, mouse-colour; throat, fore part of the neck, abdomen, and under tail-coverts white; legs and feet naked with the exception of a few small feathers near the insertion of the hind toe; tail forked, rather short. Length five inches. Eggs pure white.

While all the other British species of Swallow resort from choice to the haunts of man, the Sand or Bank Martin is indifferent about the matter. Provided that it can find a convenient place for excavating its nest, other considerations are omitted. It is said to be partial to the vicinity of water, but even this selection is rather to be attributed to the accidental circumstance that perpendicular cliffs often have rivers running at their base, than to any decided preference shown by the bird for such situations. Railway cuttings carried through a sandy district offer, perhaps, equal attraction; and it is probable that a majority of the colonies planted within the last twenty years overlook, not the silent highway of the river, but the unromantic parallel bars of iron which have enabled man to vie almost with the Swallow in rapidity of flight. The word colonies is applicable to few British birds besides the Sand Martin. Others of the tribe not unfrequently construct their nests in close proximity with each other, and, when thus associated, are most neighbourly—hunting in society, sporting together, and making common cause against an intrusive Hawk; but still this is no more than a fortuitous coming together.

It so happens that a certain district offers good hunting-ground, and the eaves or windows of a certain house are peculiarly well adapted for sheltering nests; so a number of Window Martins, not having taken counsel together, but guided each by independent choice, find themselves established sometimes so close together that their nests have party walls, like the houses in a street. They accordingly make acquaintances, and are sociable to a limited extent. But Sand Martins go beyond this, they are comrades banded together by municipal laws, which no doubt they understand and obey, inhabiting dwellings which constitute a joint settlement, returning without fail to the familiar haunt after every annual migration, or if they desert a station, leaving no stragglers behind, and pitching their camp anew in some locality which common consent has pronounced to be an eligible one. They are not, however, exclusive in their fraternization; as they hunt in society with their relatives the Swifts and Swallows, and even accompany them in distant flights. I have repeatedly observed Sand Martins flying about with others of the same tribe many miles away from their homes. They may readily be distinguished, as I have stated before, by their dingy mouse-coloured hue, smaller size, and less forked tails. I have never had an opportunity of watching a colony engaged in their mining operations at the busy period of their year, that of nidification; but from the description by Professor Rennie (Bird Architecture) and that by Mr. R. D. Duncan, quoted by Macgillivray, the sight must be most interesting. The task of the older birds must be a light one; not so, however, that of the younger members of the flock. The former have neither walls nor roofs to repair; the holes which served them as nests the previous year afford the same accommodation as before. All that is needed is, that the remains of the old nest should either be removed or receive the addition of a few straws and feathers to protect the eggs and young from direct contact with the cold sand; their labours then are over. But the new colonists have a toilsome work to perform before they can enjoy the gratification of bringing up a family. The settlement is fixed probably in the perpendicular face of a bank of sand, gravel, or clay, at an elevation from the ground which varies from a few to a great many feet. Their claws are sharp and well adapted for clinging, the beak short, rigid, and pointed, no less well suited for excavating. Grasping the perpendicular surface of the bank with their claws, and steadying themselves by means of their tails they commence operations by pricking a small hole with their bills. This hole they gradually enlarge by moving round and round, and edging off the sand with the side of their bills, which they keep shut. Their progress is slow at first, but after they have made room to stand on the excavation, they proceed rapidly, still working with their bills, and carefully pushing out the loosened sand with their feet. At one time the male, at another the female, is the excavator. When their burrowing is impeded by the resistance of a stone, they either dig round it and loosen it, or, if it prove so large as to defy removal, they desist and begin another cell. The form of the hole varies both in size and shape, but it rarely exceeds three or four inches in diameter, and more or less approaches the circular form. The depth varies from a few inches to three feet, and the direction seems to depend on the nature of the soil encountered. In all, however, the extremity of the hole is enlarged to a diameter of five or six inches, and is situated above the level of the entrance, so that no rain-water can lodge. The work is performed only in the mornings, and is consequently carried over several days. The nest itself consists of straws of grass and feathers, and is placed in the terminal chamber. The eggs are five or six in number, pure white, and of a rather long shape.

FAMILY FRINGILLIDÆ

THE GREENFINCH

LIGURINUS CHLORIS

All the plumage yellowish green, variegated with yellow and ash-grey. Length six inches. Eggs bluish white, speckled and spotted with purplish grey and dark brown.

The Greenfinch, or Green Linnet, is one of our most generally diffused birds. No bird is a more frequent inhabitant of country gardens during the summer than this, being attracted, it would seem, not so much by the prospect of abundance of food, as by its fondness for building its nest in evergreens and the thick hedges of shrubberies. The lively greenish yellow tint of the plumage on its throat and breast sufficiently distinguish it from any other British bird; and its note, when once identified, can be confounded with no other song. Let any one who wishes to obtain a sight of one, walk anywhere in the country where there are trees, on a bright sunny day in May or June, and listen for a monotonous long-drawn croak, trying to pronounce the syllable 'twe-e-e' or 'bree-eze'. No matter what other birds may be tuning their lays, the harsh monotone of the Greenfinch, if one be near, will be heard among them, harmonizing with none, and suggestive of heat and weariness. In a few seconds it will be repeated, without a shadow of variation either in tone or duration; and if it be traced out, the author of the noise (music I cannot call it) will be discovered perched among the branches of a moderately high tree, repeating his mournful ditty with extreme complacency for an hour together. Very often he takes advantage of the midday silence of the groves, and pipes away without any other competitor than the Yellow Hammer, whose song, like his own, is a constant accompaniment of sultry weather. The Greenfinch has another note which is heard most frequently, but not exclusively, in spring. This is a single plaintive chirp which may be easily imitated by human whistling; it resembles somewhat one of the call-notes of the Canary-bird or Brown Linnet, and, being full and sweet, harmonizes with the woodland chorus far better than the monotonous croak described above. Another of the notes is a double one, and closely resembles that of the 'Pee-wit', hence it is called in some places 'Pee-sweep'. The Greenfinch builds its nest, when not among evergreens, in some tall thick bush either in a hedge or coppice. Less neatly finished than that of the Chaffinch, it is nevertheless a beautiful structure. It is composed externally of a framework of light twigs and roots, interleaved with moss and wool, to which succeeds a denser layer of the same materials lined with hair. It lays five eggs, which are of a light grey colour, almost white, variously speckled with purple, and of a long shape. In winter, Greenfinches congregate in large numbers, and feed together on the seeds of various weeds in stubble fields, or not unfrequently they descend on newly-sown fields of wheat, where they are very troublesome. If disturbed, they rise simultaneously, fly rapidly only a few feet from the ground to another part of the field, but before they alight wheel about several times with singular precision of movement, disappearing from the sight and reappearing according as the dark or light portion of their plumage is turned towards the spectator; and by this peculiarity they may be distinguished from flocks of of other small birds at a great distance. If repeatedly disturbed, they alter their tactics, and take refuge in the top branches of the neighbouring trees until their persecutor has turned his back, when they return to the charge with the same perseverance which they display in the repetition of their summer song. These flocks, probably, are composed of individuals which have banded together in some more northern climate, and emigrated southwards in quest of food; for smaller parties, either unmixed, or associated with Sparrows, Chaffinches, and Buntings, frequent our farmyards and gardens in undiminished numbers.

THE HAWFINCH

COCCOTHRAUSTES VULGARIS

Lore, throat, and plumage at the base of the bill black; crown and cheeks reddish brown; nape ash-grey; back dark reddish brown; wings black, great coverts white; some of the quills truncated at the extremity; under parts light purplish red; tail short. Length seven inches. Eggs light olive-green, with a few brown spots and numerous irregular lines of a lighter tint.

Judging from its conformation, one would, without knowing anything of the habits of this bird, pronounce it to be a professor of some laborious occupation. Its short tail and wings unfit it for long aërial voyages, and its thick neck and ponderous bill denote the presence of great muscular power, and such, indeed, it both has and requires. It is not a common bird, and was until within the last few years considered to be migratory; but so many instances have occurred in which its nest has been found, that no doubt is now entertained of its being a constant resident. In Berkshire I have several times seen two or three together busily occupied in picking up the seeds which had fallen from the cones of a spruce fir. On one occasion a nest was brought to me by a man who had found it built on some twigs which grew from the trunk of a tall oak-tree; it was built of the tangled white lichens which grow on trees, on a foundation of a few roots, and contained five eggs. I afterwards discovered another nest of exactly similar structure, which I believed must have been built by the same bird, but it was empty. In Hertfordshire a single Hawfinch visited my garden one winter for several days in succession, and diligently picked up and cracked the stones of laurel cherries, from which Blackbirds had, a few months before, as busily stripped the pulp. In the cherry orchards in the neighbourhood they are not uncommon, where, even if not seen, their visits are detected by the ground being strewed with halves of cherrystones, which these birds split with their powerful beaks as cleverly as a workman with the chisel. Their note I have never heard, but the proprietor of the orchards assured me that he had often detected their presence by the low twittering noise which they made, a description the truth of which a writer quoted by Yarrell confirms. I have never seen a nest in Hertfordshire, but on several occasions have observed their eggs among the collections made by the country boys in the neighbourhood. Besides cherrystones, Hawfinches feed on hazel-nuts, hornbeam seeds, the kernels of the fruit of the hawthorn, seeds of various kinds, and, when they can get them, green peas, for the sake of which they often venture into gardens. They usually build their nests in trees at an elevation varying from twenty-five to thirty feet, and the nest is composed of dead twigs, intermixed with pieces of grey lichen; this last material varying much in quantity in different nests, but being never absent.

THE GOLDFINCH

CARDUÉLIS ÉLEGANS

Back of the head, nape, and feathers round the base of the bill black; forehead and throat blood-red; cheeks, forepart of the neck and lower parts white; back and scapulars dark brown; wings variegated with black, white and yellow; tail black, tipped with white. Length five inches. Eggs bluish white, speckled with pale purple and brown.

This little bird, as sprightly in its habits as it is brilliant in its colouring, is perhaps a more general favourite than any other British bird. Though in its natural state less familiar with man than the Redbreast, and inferior as a musician to the Lark, the Thrush, and others of our resident birds, it is more frequent as a caged bird than either, and thus is known to tens of thousands of city folk who never heard the wild song of the Thrush, nor saw a Redbreast under any circumstances. In a cage it is attractive from its lively movements, its agreeable song, and yet more from its docility, as it not only is readily tamed, but may be taught to perform various tricks and manœuvres utterly repugnant to the nature of birds. Its affection, too, for its owner is not less remarkable. Of this many instances are, I doubt not, familiar to the reader; but the following is not so well known. There was some years since in a small town, about twelve leagues from Paris, a tame Goldfinch, which belonged to a carrier, and which for many years regularly accompanied his master twice a week to and from the metropolis. At first it used to content itself with perching on the driver's seat, and from time to time flying a short distance ahead, or gambolling with other birds of the same kind that it encountered on the way. By and by it seemed to grow dissatisfied with the slow pace of the wagon, and took long flights in advance, still returning from time to time to its accustomed perch. At length, becoming more enterprising, it would leave its master in the lurch, and fly in advance the whole of the way, and announce his approach at the house in the city where he put up. If the weather was stormy, it would quietly await his arrival, taking up its quarters by the fireside; but if the weather was fine, it would, after making a brief stay, return to meet him. At every meeting, caresses and congratulations were exchanged, as fondly as if they had been separated for years. This romantic attachment was at length terminated by the disappearance of the bird, but whether through the instrumentality of a cat, a Hawk, or some mischievous boy, was never discovered.

Whatever doubt may exist as to the services rendered to man by the Sparrow and Chaffinch, about the Goldfinch there can be no difference of opinion. The farmer has no better friend, and yet an abundance of Goldfinches on an estate is anything but a welcome sight; for it denotes abundance of its favourite food, the seeds of thistles. Where these weeds flourish, there, for the most part, Goldfinches are to be met with in considerable numbers. The French name, Chardonneret, denotes 'a frequenter of thistles', and the ancient Greek and Latin name for it, Acanthis, is of similar import; the Acanthis, Pliny tells us,[13] bears animosity against no living creature but the donkey, a beast which eats the flowers of thistles, and so deprives it of its food. To this dietary it adds the seeds of dandelions, centaury and other weeds, but shows a decided preference for the seeds of the compound flowers. Its nest is among the most beautiful that birds construct. One now before me is placed among the terminal branches cut from the bough of a Scotch fir which grew at an elevation of about twenty feet from the ground. It is encircled by upwards of a dozen leafy twigs which unite beneath its base, and form both a firm support and effectual shelter. The substance is composed of tufted white lichens (Usnea and Evernia), and a few fine roots and wiry stems of garden-thyme, felted together with wool so securely, that it is scarcely possible to remove one of them without damaging the whole. With these is intermixed a piece of worsted, and a thread of sewing cotton; a few horsehairs succeed, and the whole of the interior is thickly matted with the white silky down of the coltsfoot. Other nests vary in the materials employed, moss being sometimes used instead of white lichen, and willow-cotton or feathers instead of the down of the coltsfoot. Thistle-down is sometimes named as the material of the lining; but this must be under unusual circumstances, that substance being generally unattainable in spring. Besides fir-trees, the apple and elm are often selected by Goldfinches to build their nests in, and they not unfrequently resort to any low tree in a hedge or shrubbery, also to young oak-trees. In autumn, Goldfinches assemble in flocks of from ten to twenty or more, and resort to waste places, or the borders of fields, where thistles abound, and it is hard to imagine a prettier sight than a party of these innocent and brilliant hunters, perching, all heedless of spines and prickles, on the thistle heads, plucking out the seeds with the pappus attached, and cleverly separating the former from their appendage. While thus employed, they seem to take it for granted that no one will molest them, but continue their useful labour, twittering pleasantly all the while, until the spectator comes within a few yards of them, when they fly off like butterflies to another prickly bed.

Owing to more efficient bird-protection the Goldfinch, which was decreasing largely in numbers, is now on the increase again.

[13] Nat. Hist., lib. x., cap. lxxiv.

THE SISKIN

CARDUÉLIS SPINUS

Crown black; behind the eye a broad yellow streak; all the plumage variegated with grey, dusky, and various shades of yellow and yellowish green; wings dusky, with a transverse greenish yellow bar, and a black one above, and another black one across the middle of the tertiaries; tail dusky, the base and edge of the inner web greenish yellow. Female—all the colours less bright, and no black on the head. Length four and a half inches. Eggs greyish white, speckled with purplish brown.

The Siskin, or Aberdevine, is best known as a cage-bird, as it is only a very occasional breeder in Great Britain, and during the period of its stay is retiring in its habits. Siskins are more frequently met with in the northern than the southern counties of England, but they are common in neither, and will only nest where pine woods abound. They are generally observed to keep together in small flocks of from twelve to fifteen, and may be heard from a considerable distance, as they rarely intermit uttering their call-note, which, though little more than a soft twittering, is as clear as that of the Bullfinch, to which it has been compared. Their flight is rapid and irregular, like that of the Linnet. They leave their roosting-places early in the morning, and usually alight on the branches of alder-trees, where they remain all day. The seeds of the alder, inclosed within scales something like those of the coniferous trees, form the principal food of these pretty little birds, who are obliged to hang at the extremities of the twigs in order to explore the seed-vessels on all sides. Occasionally, but less frequently, they are seen visiting heads of thistles and burdocks, and not unfrequently they descend to the ground for the sake of picking up scattered seeds. During the whole of their feeding time, they never cease twittering and fluttering about joyously from twig to twig. Now and then, as if by preconcerted signal given by a leader, they all take flight to another tree or, after a short evolution, return to the same from which they started. Should it happen that, while one little band is occupied in despoiling a tree, another is heard in the air, the latter is immediately invited by general acclamation to take part in the banquet, and rarely fails to accept the invitation. Owing to this sociability of character they are easily entrapped, provided that one of their own species be employed as a decoy bird. They soon become reconciled to captivity, and are valued for their readiness to pair with the Canary-bird, the note of which the joint offspring is thought to improve. The nest, which in some respects resembles those of the Greenfinch and Chaffinch, is concealed with great care in the fork formed by two branches of a fir, with which it is so skilfully made to assimilate, that it is almost impossible to discern it from below. In France, Siskins are most numerous from the middle of October to the beginning of December. They are then supposed to travel southwards, and appear again, but in greatly diminished numbers, in spring, at which period they are considered to be travelling towards their summer quarters in Russia and Scandinavia.

THE HOUSE SPARROW

PASSER DOMESTICUS

Crown and back of the head dark bluish ash; lore, throat, and front of the neck black; above the eyes a band of uniform reddish brown, intermixed with a few small white feathers; upper feathers dark brown, edged with reddish brown; a single transverse white bar on the wing; cheeks, sides of the neck, and under parts greyish white. Female—head, nape, neck, and breast ash-brown; above the eye a light yellowish brown streak; rest of the plumage less bright. Length five inches and three-quarters. Eggs white, spotted and speckled with dark grey and brown.

What were the haunts of the Sparrow at the period when men dwelt in tents, and there were neither farmhouses nor villages, much less towns and cities, it were hard to say. Certain it is now that thoroughly wild Sparrows are not to be met with in districts remote from human dwellings and cultivation; they have left the hillside and forest as if by common consent, and have pitched their tents where man builds, or ploughs, or digs, and nowhere else. In the city, the seaport town, the fishing village, the hamlet, the farmhouse, nay, near the cot on the lone waste and by the roadside smithy, they are always present, varying in the amount of confidence they place in their patrons, but all depending on man to a certain extent. And not only do they court his society, but they have adopted his diet. Whatever is the staple food of a household, the Sparrows that nestle around will be right pleased to share it; bread, meat, potatoes, rice, pastry, raisins, nuts, if they could have these for the asking, they would not trouble themselves to search farther; but obliged, as they are, to provide for themselves, they must be content with humble fare; and so skilful are they as caterers, that whatever other birds may chance to die of starvation, a Sparrow is always round and plump, while not a few have paid for their voracity by their lives. Much difference of opinion exists as to whether Sparrows should be courted by man as allies, or exterminated as enemies. The best authorities on this point have come to the conclusion that their numbers must be lessened, and that the most humane way to do this is to tear down nests before the young are hatched out. The fact that great efforts are at the present time being made to introduce them into New Zealand, where the corn crops suffer great injury from the attacks of insects, which the presence of Sparrows would, it is believed, materially check, leads to the conclusion that their mission is one of utility. That Sparrows consume a very large quantity of corn in summer there can be no doubt; as soon as the grain has attained its full size, and long before it is ripe, they make descents on the standing corn, and if undisturbed will clear so effectually of their contents the ears nearest to the hedges, that this portion of the crop is sometimes scarcely worth the threshing. During harvest they transfer their attention to the sheaves, while the reapers and binders are occupied elsewhere; as gleaners they are indefatigable; they participate, too, in the joys of harvest home, for their food is then brought to their very doors. The most skilful binder leaves at least a few ears exposed at the wrong end of the sheaf, and these are searched for diligently in the rick; and the barns must be well closed indeed into which they cannot find admission. At threshings and winnowings they are constant attendants, feeding among the poultry, and snatching up the scattered grains under the formidable beak of Chanticleer himself. At seed-time their depredations are yet more serious, as they now come in not simply for a share of the produce, but undermine the very foundations of the future crop. I once had the curiosity to examine the crop of a Sparrow which had been shot as it flew up from a newly-sown field, and found no less than forty-two grains of wheat. A writer in the Zoologist, who professes himself a deadly enemy of the Sparrow, states that he once took 180 grains of good wheat from the crops of five birds, giving an average of thirty-six for a meal. Now if Sparrows had the opportunity of feeding on grain all the year round, they would be unmitigated pests, and a war of extermination against them could not be waged too vigorously; but during the far greater portion of the year they have not the power of doing mischief, and all this time they have to find food for themselves. Against their will, perhaps, they now hunt for the seeds of various weeds, especially the wild mustard; and these being smaller than grains of corn and less nutritive, they consume an immense number of them, varying their repast with myriads of caterpillars, wireworms, and other noxious grubs; also they devour small beetles (called hay-chaffers) when the hay lies in swathes on the field. They thus compensate, certainly in part, perhaps wholly, for the mischief they do at other seasons; and it is even questionable whether, if a balance were struck between them and the agriculturists, the obligation would not be on the side of the latter.

It is scarcely necessary to say much of the habits of a bird which stands on such familiar terms with the human race as the Sparrow. During no period of the year do Sparrows live together in perfect amity; if half a dozen descend to pick up a handful of scattered crumbs, each in his turn will peck at any other who comes too near his share of the feast, and, with a peculiar sidelong shuffle or hop, will show his intention of appropriating as large a portion of the feeding-ground as he can. In spring, this bickering assumes a more formidable character. A duel is commenced among the branches of a tree, obstinate and noisy; all the Sparrows within hearing flock to the scene of combat, joining at first with their voices, and finally with their beaks; a general riot ensues, with as little object seemingly as an Irish 'row'; for suddenly the outcry ceases, and the combatants return to their various occupations. A writer in the Naturalist gives an account of a fray of this kind, during which three male birds fell at his feet one after another either dead or dying; but cases of this kind are very rare.

Sparrows build their nests at a considerable elevation from the ground, but are by no means particular as to the locality. At the period when most farmhouses and cottages were thatched, the eaves were their favourite resort, and here they hollowed out for themselves most comfortable dwellings. The general employment of tiles or slates has interfered with this arrangement; but they will fix upon any projection, niche, crack, or hole which will hold a nest, and if these are all occupied, content themselves with a tree; but, as far as my own observation goes, the number built in trees far exceeds that to be found in other localities. Very frequently they appropriate the nest of the House Martin. The nest itself is a rude structure, composed mainly of straw and hay, and lined with feathers and any other soft materials which they can find. Two or three broods are reared every year, the number of eggs being usually five. The young are fed on worms, caterpillars, and insects of various kinds.

THE MOUNTAIN OR TREE SPARROW

PASSER MONTÁNUS

Crown and back of the head chestnut-brown; lore, ear-coverts, and throat black; neck almost surrounded by a white collar; upper plumage resembling the last; wing with two transverse white bars. The female scarcely differs from the male. Length five inches and a half. Eggs as in the last.

The Mountain Sparrow seems scarcely to deserve its name, as it is by no means confined to mountainous districts. It is abundant all over the European continent, and is to be met with here and there in many parts of England in the east of Scotland and of late years in Ireland and in the Hebrides; but it is nowhere so abundant as the House Sparrow, which it resembles in all respects, except that the head is of a bright chestnut colour, and the neck wears a white collar. I have never seen it except in society with the common species, and could never detect any difference either in flight or note; but other observers state that the flight is slow and constrained, and the note assumes more the character of a song. The nest is placed in soft rotten wood of pollard willows and other trees, in hollow trees and under the thatch of buildings.

THE CHAFFINCH

FRINGILLA CǼLEBS

Forehead black; crown and nape greyish blue; back and scapulars chestnut, tinged with green; rump green; breast wine-red, fading towards the abdomen into white; wings black, with two white bands; coverts of the secondaries tipped with yellow; tail black, the two middle feathers ash-grey, the two outer on each side black, with a broad oblique white band. Female—head, back and scapulars, ash-brown, tinged with olive; lower parts greyish white; the transverse bands less distinct. Length six inches. Eggs greenish purple, streaked and spotted with purple-brown.

'Gai comme Pinson', as gay as a Chaffinch, is a familiar French proverb, which describes not only the character of the bird, but the peculiar temperament which in France is an essential part of gaiety. The Chaffinch is a smart, lively, active bird, always in a bustle, flitting here and there incessantly and staying long nowhere, always wearing a holiday look, so trim and spruce is he, and rattling through his song with wondrous volubility. It received the name cælebs, bachelor, from Linnæus, who observed that the flocks in winter are composed for the most part either exclusively of males or of females. Large flocks arrive on our east coast each year from the Continent, and others coming from the north spread themselves over the country to the southward. During the open weather of autumn and early winter, Chaffinches frequent stubble and ploughed fields, where they busily collect grain and the seeds of various weeds, and are not, I fear, very scrupulous whether they are engaged as gleaners of what is lost, or robbers of what is sown. In severe weather they resort to farmyards and homesteads, where, along with Sparrows, Buntings, and Greenfinches, they equally consider all they can find as provided for their own especial use. On the return of spring, they feed upon the young shoots, and for a few weeks show themselves great enemies to horticulture. Their visits to our flower-gardens, paid very early in the morning, are attested by scattered buds of polyanthuses, which they attack and pull to pieces as soon as they begin to push from between the leaves. In the kitchen-garden they are yet more mischievous, showing a strong inclination for all pungent seeds. Woe to the unthrifty gardener, who, while drilling in his mustard, or cress, or radishes, scatters a few seeds on the surface! The quick eye of some passing Chaffinch will surely detect them; so surely will the stray grains serve as a clue to the treasure concealed beneath, and so surely will a hungry band of companions rush to 'the diggings', and leave the luckless proprietor a poor tithe of his expected crop. Yet so large is the number of the seeds of weeds that the Chaffinch consumes, in the course of a year, more particularly of groundsel, chickweed, and buttercup, that he, without doubt, more than compensates for all his misdeeds; and as his summer food partially, and that of his young family exclusively, consists of caterpillars and other noxious insects, he is in reality among the gardener's best friends, who should be scared away at the seasons when his visits are not welcome, and encouraged at all other times. The Chaffinch, though a wary bird, does not stand greatly in fear of man; for if disturbed at a meal, he is generally satisfied with the protection afforded by the branches of the nearest tree, on which he hops about until the danger is past, uttering his simple but not unpleasing note, 'twink' or 'pink' or 'spink, spink, spink' as it is variously translated. To this cry it adds the syllable 'tweet', frequently repeated in an anxious tone and with a peculiar restlessness of manner, which always indicate that its nest is somewhere very near at hand, and by which indeed it is very often betrayed.

Its proper song commences very early in spring, and is continued until June or later. This must be the song which the poet had in view when he sang:—

Then as a little helpless innocent bird,

That has but one plain passage of few notes,

Will sing the simple passage o'er and o'er,

For all one April morning, till the ear

Wearies to hear it.—Tennyson.

It consists of from ten to twelve notes of the same tone, and about the same length, with the last but one elevated and accented, uttered rapidly at short intervals, and without the least variation.

In Germany, this bird is so great a favourite that not a single tone of its voice has escaped the experienced ears of bird-fanciers. In some parts of Holland and the north of France, the passion for song Chaffinches amounts to a frenzy. Philharmonic societies are formed, whose exclusive object is to educate Chaffinches, and to organize vocal combats. The combatants, each in his cage, are placed a few yards from each other. One of them utters his strain, which is replied to by the other; strict silence is imposed on the spectators, lest the attention of the birds should be distracted by their remarks or applause. The contest proceeds as long as the birds continue to utter their notes of defiance, and the victory is adjudged to the one who has the last word. The price paid for a bird of mark, and the pains bestowed on the capture of any bird which in its wild state holds out promise of being an apt pupil, are past belief, and the cruelty practised in producing a perfect songster I cannot bring myself to describe. After all, Bechstein's translator says that the notes of the wild Chaffinches in England are finer than any cage ones he has heard in Germany. English bird-fanciers, without going so far as their German brethren, profess to distinguish three variations of song in the Chaffinch.

The nest of the Chaffinch is an exquisite piece of workmanship, composed of moss, dry grass, fine roots felted together with wool, decorated externally with scraps of white lichens, and lined with hair and feathers. It is placed sometimes in the fork of a tree, sometimes against the bole, but more frequently than anywhere else it is built in among the twigs of an apple-tree; but in every case it is attached to its support by wool interwoven with the other materials. The Chaffinch usually lays five eggs.

THE BRAMBLING

FRINGILLA MONTIFRINGÍLLA

Head, cheeks, nape, and upper part of the back, black, the feathers (in winter) tipped with light brown or ash-grey; neck and scapulars pale orange-brown; wings black, variegated with orange-brown and white; rump and lower parts white, the flanks reddish, with a few dark spots. Female—crown reddish brown, the feathers tipped with grey, a black streak over the eyes; cheeks and neck ash-grey; all the other colours less bright. Length six inches and a half. Eggs yellowish white, spotted and streaked with dark red.

In winter this bird occurs over the whole continent of Europe, and not unfrequently in enormous flocks. Pennant mentions an instance in which eighteen were killed at one shot—a statement which I can well believe, having seen in the winter of 1853 by far the largest flock of small birds I ever beheld, and which was composed entirely of Bramblings. They were employed in searching for food on the ground in a beech wood, and, as I approached, flew up into the branches in thousands. The Brambling, called also the Bramble Finch and Mountain Finch, is a fairly regular autumn and winter visitor to many parts of Scotland. Its presence in our country in any numbers depends on the severity of the weather on the Continent. Sometimes it is fairly numerous with us, especially where there are many beech woods. Few visit Ireland. It resembles the Chaffinch in habits, size, and general tone of colour; and as it often feeds in company with it, is probably sometimes confounded with it by an inexperienced eye. It arrives in this country in November, and takes its departure early in spring, never having been known to breed here. Its song is said to be something like that of the Chaffinch, and its nest, built in fir-trees, to be constructed with the same marvellous art.

THE LINNET

ACANTHIS CÁNNABINA

Winter—head ash-brown, the feathers dusky in the middle, those of the forehead more or less tinged with crimson; back chestnut-brown, becoming brighter towards the scapulars and duller towards the tail; tail-feathers black, edged towards the tip with reddish grey, the outer ones bordered with white; primaries black, the first five with very narrow, the next five with broad, white edges, the rest of the wing-feathers tinged with red, all tipped with ash-grey; under parts—breast-feathers dull crimson or brown, edged with yellowish red; abdomen dull white; flanks reddish yellow; beak brownish horn colour; feet and toes brown; tail moderate. In summer the beak is of a bluish lead colour; feathers of the forehead and crown greyish brown, tipped with crimson; upper plumage uniform rich chestnut-brown; breast crimson, with a few pale brown feathers intermixed. Length five inches. Eggs pale bluish grey, speckled with deep red.

It is not unusual in the country to hear mention made of the Brown, the Grey, and the Rose or Red Linnet, and the Common Linnet, as if these were all different birds. Such, however, is not the case. The Linnet is a bird which varies its plumage considerably at different seasons of the year, in consequence of which, at a period when little attention was paid to Ornithology, the same individual was known by whichever of these names best described its characteristic colouring. Even by the earlier ornithologists there were supposed to be two species, one of which was called Linota, probably from its having been observed feeding on flax-seed (Linum); the other Cannabina, from having been seen to feed on hemp seed (Cannabis). Linnets offer themselves to our notice in the evenings of autumn and winter more than at any other time. Large flocks of them may then be observed making their way, with rapid and irregular flight, towards tall trees which happen to stand in the vicinity of a common or a furze-brake. On the summits of these they alight, with their heads, in stormy weather, always turned towards the wind, and after keeping up a continuous twittering for a few minutes, suddenly drop into their roosting-places among the furze and thick shrubs. At the return of dawn, they issue forth to their feeding-grounds, still congregated in large flocks, and spend the whole of the day in hunting on the ground for food. This consists principally of the seeds of various weeds, especially wild-mustard or charlock, wild-cabbage, and other plants of the same tribe, thistle and dandelion; chance grains of corn no doubt are not passed by, but any injury which may be done by these birds, either to standing crops or newly-sowed lands, must be far outweighed by their services as destroyers of weeds and insects, which latter also enter into their dietary. At this season their only note is a simple call, mellow and pleasant, which they utter both while flying and when perched. In spring, the flocks break up, and the members betake themselves in pairs to the commons and heaths, which afforded them night-lodging during winter. Here they build their nests at a moderate distance from the ground, more frequently in a furze-bush than anywhere else, but occasionally in other shrubs or an adjoining hedge. The nest is constructed of small twigs, moss, roots, and wool; and is lined with hair, feathers, and sometimes vegetable down. The Linnet lays four or five eggs. The spring and summer song of the Linnet is remarkable neither for compass nor power; it is, however, very sweet, and on this account the Linnet is a favourite cage-bird.

THE MEALY REDPOLL

ACANTHIS LINÁRIA

Throat and lore black; forehead and crown blood-red; breast and rump rose-red; under parts white; nape reddish white, with dusky streaks; shoulders and back with dark streaks, edged with white; quills and tail feathers greyish brown, edged with white. Length five and a half inches.

A northern species of Linnet, closely resembling the Lesser Redpoll, but larger. It visits Great Britain only in the winter and at irregular intervals, being in some seasons tolerably abundant, and in others not seen at all. Little appears to be known of its habits.

THE LESSER REDPOLL

ACANTHIS RUFESCENS

Forehead, throat, and lore black; crown deep crimson; under parts light crimson tinged with buff, fading towards the tail into white; upper parts reddish brown, with dusky streaks; wings and tail dusky, edged with pale reddish brown. Female—all the colours less bright. Length five and a quarter inches. Eggs bluish white, speckled at the larger end with reddish brown.

The Lesser Redpoll so closely resembles the Siskin in its habits and temperament, that a description of either of these birds would serve well for the other. Like that bird it congregates in small flocks; it frequents damp valleys where alder-trees abound; it feeds on the seeds of the same trees; like it, hangs at the extremities of the twigs to explore the catkins, twitters merrily as it flies, and is quite as easily reconciled to captivity. But for the yellow plumage and larger size of the Siskin, they might well be mistaken one for the other. The Redpoll, however, is a much more frequent bird, as its annual visits to the southern counties of England in winter are as regular as those of Swallows in summer. Though a northern bird, it does not unexceptionally repair to high latitudes, but in summer remains to breed in Scotland and the northern counties of England. As far south as Yorkshire it is not unfrequent, and its nest has been occasionally found in the midland counties; some eggs were recently brought to me in Hertfordshire. Meyer relates, that having one confined in a cage he placed it in his garden in fine weather, in the hope that other birds of the same species might be attracted by its note to visit it in its confinement. His expectation was realized, for several wild Redpolls not only came into his garden and twittered their notes of recognition from the neighbouring trees, but actually alighted on the bars of the cage. This took place in the county of Surrey, and during the month of June, thus proving that some at least of the species remain with us all the year round. The nest, which is remarkably small, is described as being placed in the fork of an alder-tree, loosely constructed of dry grass and weeds, and lined either with the cotton of the willow or the pappus of some compound flower, stated by some to be dandelion, by others, thistle, but perhaps, in reality, coltsfoot. In captivity, Redpolls are prized for their liveliness and remarkable affection for each other, and, indeed, for all little birds who do not disdain their attentions. They can be taught many little tricks also.

THE MOUNTAIN LINNET, OR TWITE

ACANTHIS FLAVIROSTRIS

Upper plumage dark brown, edged with light brown; no crimson either on the forehead or breast; rump of the male tinged with red; throat tawny brown, without streaks; breast and abdomen dull white, streaked on the flanks with dark brown; beak yellow; feet and claws dark brown; tail long. Length five inches and a quarter. Eggs pale bluish white, speckled with purple-red.

Another northern bird, inhabiting the Arctic Regions, Scandinavia, and Russia, and travelling southwards in autumn. In the Orkney and Shetland Islands it is the most common, if not the only, species, and builds its nest among the corn or heath. It breeds from Derbyshire and northwards, but is very local; at one time it was very common on the Lancashire moors. Yellow-neb Lintie is a Scotch name given to it. In the countries where it is resident all the year round, it is very destructive to wheat in winter, and to turnips in summer. As soon as the latter plants appear above ground, the bird pulls them up, nips off the seed-leaves, and the field remains strewn with the fragments of the young plants. In winter, Mountain Linnets assemble in very large flocks, and in their habits resemble Common Linnets, from which they are best distinguished (at a distance) by their longer tails. During severe weather I have observed them in Norfolk, flocking to the salt marshes, and feeding on the seeds of saline plants, especially those of the shrubby sea-blite. At this season their note resembles the twitter of the Common Linnet, but is less mellow. The nest is placed among heath, grass, or young corn, and invariably on the ground—in this respect differing from all other birds of the same family. It is constructed of dry grass, moss, and roots, and lined with various soft substances. The Mountain Linnet is generally called the Twite, a syllable which its simple note is thought to resemble. It is more shy as a rule than the Lesser Redpoll.

THE BULLFINCH

PÝRRHULA EUROPÆA

Crown, throat, plumage round the bill, wings and tail lustrous purple-black; upper part of the back bluish ash; cheeks, neck, breast and flanks red (in the female reddish brown); rump and abdomen pure white; a broad buff and grey band across the wings. Length six and a quarter inches. Eggs light greenish blue, speckled and streaked with light red and dark purple.

'The Bullfinch', said Macgillivray, usually so accurate an observer, 'is not very common anywhere.' From this last remark I infer that the author in question was never either proprietor or occupant of a fruit-garden in a wooded district, or he would have reported very differently of the frequency of the Bullfinch. During winter the food of these birds consists exclusively of berries of various kinds and seeds, especially of such weeds as thistle, rag-wort, duckweed, plantains, etc., either picked up from the ground or gathered from herbs and shrubs. In spring, unfortunately for the gardener, their taste alters, and nothing will satisfy them but the blossom-buds of fruit-trees, especially those which are cultivated. They attack, indeed, the buds of the sloe and hawthorn as well; but of these, being valueless, no one takes note. Still keeping together in small family parties, all uninvited, they pay most unwelcome visits to gooseberries, plums, and cherries, and, if undisturbed, continue to haunt the same trees until all hope of a crop is destroyed. Gooseberry-bushes are left denuded of flower-buds, which have been deliberately picked off and crushed between their strong mandibles, while the leaf-buds, situated principally at the extremities of the branches, are neglected. Plum and cherry trees are treated in like manner, the ground being strewed with the bud-scales and rudiments of flowers. Some persons endeavour to deter them by whitewashing the trees, and are said to find this plan effectual. Others wind a straw rope round the gooseberry-bushes, so disguising their natural appearance. This plan I found perfectly successful one year, but the next it was entirely without effect. A new one which I have adopted this year is somewhat more complex. In addition to the straw bands, I have stretched long strings, with feathers attached here and there, so as to resemble the tail of a paper kite; and, by way of offering them an inducement to stay away, I have sprinkled peas on the ground in an adjoining lane, in the hope that they will partially, at least, satisfy their hunger on these. A bird with so strong a beak as that of the Bullfinch is evidently designed to crush its food, not to swallow it whole; accordingly, I find my peas disappearing, but the parchment-like rind is left on the ground, a substance too indigestible even for the gizzard of a Bullfinch. This bird has, however, justly many friends, who assert that the buds he attacks are infested with concealed insects, and that the tree he strips one season will be heavily laden the following year. When not occupied in disbudding fruit-trees, Bullfinches are most frequently observed in tall and thick hedges, either in small flocks as described above, or in pairs. They are rarely met with singly, and yet less frequently associated with birds of another species. Occasionally a pair may be seen feeding with Sparrows and Chaffinches in the farmyard; but this society seems one of accident rather than of choice. When disturbed in a hedge they are singularly methodical in their movements: first one flies out, bounds, as it were through the air in a direction away from the spectator, perches on a twig in the thick part of the hedge, and is followed by the rest of the party in single file. When the passenger has approached within what the bird considers a safe distance, the same manœuvre is repeated, each bird following, with dipping flight, the line marked out by its predecessor.

PINE GROSBEAK

PÝRRHULA ENUCLEATOR

Head and upper parts of the neck reddish orange, streaked on the back with dusky; wings and tail black, the former with two white bars, the primaries and tail-feathers edged with orange, the secondaries with white under parts orange-yellow. Length seven and a quarter inches. Eggs white.

A large and handsome bird, inhabiting the Arctic regions during the summer months, and in winter descending a few degrees to the south in both hemispheres. It is of very rare occurrence in the pine-forests of Scotland, and a still more unfrequent visitor to England. The Pine Grosbeak, or Pine Bullfinch, is a bird of sociable habits, and an agreeable songster.

THE CROSSBILL

LOXIA CURVIRÓSTRA.

Bill equalling in length the middle toe, point of the lower mandible extending beyond the ridge of the upper mandible; plumage variegated, according to age and sex, with green, yellow, orange, and brick-red. Length six and a half inches. Eggs bluish white, speckled with red-brown.

The beak of this bird was pronounced by Buffon 'an error and defect of Nature, and a useless deformity'. A less dogmatic, but more trustworthy authority, our countryman, Yarrell, is of a different opinion. 'During a series of observations', he says, 'on the habits and structure of British birds, I have never met with a more interesting or more beautiful example of the adaptation of means to an end, than is to be found in the beak, the tongue, and their muscles, in the Crossbill.' No one can read the chapter of British Birds devoted to the Crossbill (in which the accomplished author has displayed even more than his usual amount of research and accurate observation) without giving a ready assent to the propriety of the latter opinion. Unfortunately the bird is not of common occurrence in this country, or there are few who would not make an effort to watch it in its haunts, and endeavour to verify, by the evidence of their own eyes, the interesting details which have been recorded of its habits. I have never myself succeeded in catching a sight of a living specimen, and am therefore reduced to the necessity of quoting the descriptions of others. Family parties of this species visit—1907—a small wood of pine trees in the valley of the Kennet near Theale some winters, as well as other scattered pine-forest lands in the southern counties, and across the Solway and northward it nests in suitable districts.

The Crossbill is about the size of the Common Bunting, and, like it and the Hawfinch, is a remarkably stout bird, having a strong bill, a large head, short thick neck, compact ovate body, short feet of considerable strength, rather long wings, and moderately large tail. Its plumage, in which green or red predominates, according to the age of the bird, is much more gaudy than that of our common birds, and approaches that of the Parrots, a tribe which it also resembles in some of its habits. Though only occasional visitors with us, Crossbills are plentiful in Germany, Bavaria, Sweden, and Norway all the year round, and are occasionally mischievous in orchards and gardens, on account of their partiality to the seeds of apples, which they reach by splitting the fruit with one or two blows of their stout bills. Food of this kind, however, they can only obtain in autumn; at other seasons, and, indeed, all the year round in districts remote from orchards, they feed principally on the seeds of various kinds of fir, which they extract from the cone by the joint action of their beak and tongue. The alder and other trees are also sometimes visited, and they have been noticed to resort to thistles and pick the seeds from them. 'In the autumn of 1821', says Macgillivray, 'when walking from Aberdeen to Elgin, by the way of Glenlivat, and along the Spey, I had the pleasure of observing, near the influx of a tributary of that river, a flock of several hundreds of Crossbills, busily engaged in shelling the seeds of the berries which hung in clusters on a clump of rowan (mountain ash) trees. So intent were they on satisfying their hunger that they seemed not to take the least heed of me; and as I had not a gun, I was content with gazing on them without offering them any molestation. They clung to the twigs in all sorts of positions, and went through the operation of feeding in a quiet and business-like manner, each attending to his own affairs without interfering with his neighbours. It was, indeed, a pleasant sight to see how the little creatures fluttered among the twigs, all in continued action, like so many bees on a cluster of flowers in sunshine after rain.' A writer in the Zoologist thus describes the manœuvres of a flock which he observed in 1849, in the county of Durham: "On the fifteenth of July when taking a drive in the western part of the county, where there are many thousand acres of fir-plantations, I had the good fortune to see a flock of birds cross my path, which appeared to be Crossbills; so, leaving the gig, I followed some distance into a fir-plantation, where, to my great gratification, I found perhaps thirty or more feeding on some Scotch firs. The day being fine, and as they were the first I had seen in a state of wild nature, I watched them for about twenty minutes. Their actions are very graceful while feeding, hanging in every imaginable attitude, peering into the cones, which, if they contain seeds, are instantly severed from the branch; clutched with one foot, they are instantly emptied of their contents, when down they come. So rapidly did they fall, that I could compare it to nothing better than being beneath an oak-tree in autumn, when the acorns are falling in showers about one's head, but that the cones were rather heavier. No sooner are they on the wing than they, one and all, commence a fretful, unhappy, chirl, not unlike the Redpoll's, but louder.' Another writer, in the Magazine of Natural History, thus records his experience: 'From October, 1821, to the middle of May, 1822, Crossbills were very numerous in this county (Suffolk), and, I believe, extended their flight into many parts of England. Large flocks frequented some fir-plantations in this vicinity, from the beginning of November to the following April. I had almost daily opportunities of watching their movements; and so remarkably tame were they, that, when feeding on fir-trees not more than fifteen or twenty feet high, I have often stood in the midst of the flock, unnoticed and unsuspected. I have seen them hundreds of times, when on the larch, cut the cone from the branch with their beak, and, holding it firmly In both claws, as a hawk would a bird, extract the seeds with the most surprising dexterity and quickness. I do not mean to assert this to be their general habit; but it was very frequently done when feeding on the larch. I have never seen them adopt the like method with cones of the Scotch or other species of pine, which would be too bulky for them to manage. Their method with these, and, of course, most frequently with the larch, was to hold firmly on the cone with their claws; and, while they were busily engaged in this manner, I have captured great numbers; many with a horsehair noose fixed to the end of a fishing-rod, which I managed to slip over their head when they were feeding, and, by drawing it quickly towards the body, I easily secured them; others I took with a limed twig, fixed in such a manner in the end of a rod that, on touching the bird, the twig quickly became disengaged, adhered to the feathers, rendered the wings useless, and caused the poor bird to fall perfectly helpless on the ground. In this manner, in windy weather, I have taken several from the same tree, without causing any suspicion of danger. On warm sunny days, after feeding a considerable time, they would suddenly take wing, and, after flying round for a short time, in full chorus, alight on some lofty tree in the neighbourhood of the plantations, warbling to each other in low pleasing strains. They would also fly from the trees occasionally for the purpose of drinking, their food being of so dry a nature. To captivity they were quickly reconciled, and soon became very familiar. As, at first, I was not aware what food would suit them, I fixed branches of the larch against the sides of the room in which I confined them, and threw them a quantity of the cones on the floor. I found that they not only closely searched the cones on the branches but, in a few days, not one was left in the room that had not been pried into. I gave them canary and hemp-seed; but thinking the cones were both amusement and employment, I continued to furnish them with a plentiful supply. I had about four dozen of them; and frequently, whilst I have been in the room, they would fly down, seize a cone with their beak, carry it to a perch, quickly transfer it to their claws, and in a very short time empty it of its seeds, as I have very many times witnessed to my surprise and amusement.' These accounts are most interesting, yet they are all equally defective in failing to describe the mode in which Buffon's 'useless deformity', the crossed bill, is employed in the work of splitting open a cone This defect is supplied partially by Mr. Townson's description, quoted by Yarrell, and partly by the latter author in his own words. 'Their mode of operation is thus:—They first fix themselves across the cone, then bring the points of the mandibles from their crossed or lateral position, to be immediately over each other. In this reduced compass they insinuate their beaks between the scales, and then, opening them—not in the usual manner, but by drawing the inferior mandible sideways—force open the scales.' "'At this stage', Yarrell proceeds to say, 'the end of the tongue becomes necessary; and this organ is no less admirably adapted for the service required.... While the points of the beak press the scale from the body of the cone, the tongue is enabled to direct and insert its cutting scoop underneath the seed, and the food thus dislodged is transferred to the mouth; and when the mandibles are separated laterally in this operation the bird has an uninterrupted view of the seed in the cavity with the eye on that side to which the under mandible is curved.'"

The beak of the Crossbill then, far from being a defect in the organization of the bird, is a perfect implement always at its owner's command, faultless alike in design and execution, and exquisitely adapted to its work, not an easy one, of performing, by a single process, the office of splitting, opening, and securing the contents of a fir-cone, and he must be a bold man who could venture to suggest an improvement in its mechanism.

It has been observed that young birds in the nest have not their mandibles crossed, and at this period such an arrangement would be useless, as they are dependent for food on the parent birds. It has also been observed that the side on which the upper mandible crosses the lower varies in different individuals; in some it descends on the right side of the lower mandible, in others on the left. The bird appears to have no choice in the matter, but whatever direction it takes at first, the same it always retains.

The nest of the Crossbill is constructed of slender twigs of fir and coarse dry grass, and lined with fine grass and a few hairs, and concealed among the upper branches of a Scotch fir.

The Two-barred (or White-winged) Crossbill (Loxia bifasciata) is only a rare straggler in winter to this country.