of that heart-touching quality of tenderness which gives so great a
charm to some of the warblers. It is pre-eminently cheerful; a song of
summer and love and happiness of so contagious a spirit that to listen
to it critically, as one would listen to the polished phrases of the
nightingale, would be impossible.
The throstle is a very persistent singer: in spring and summer his loud
carols may be heard from a tree-top at four o’clock or half-past three
in the morning; throughout the day he sings at intervals, and again,
more continuously, in the evening, when he keeps up an intermittent
flow of melody until dark. His evening music always seems his best, but
the effect is probably due to the comparative silence and the witching
aspect of nature at that hour, when the sky is still luminous, and the
earth beneath the dusky green foliage lies in deepest shadow.
So far only the music of the throstle has been considered; but in
the case of this bird the music is nearly everything. When we think
of the throstle, we have the small sober-coloured figure that skulks
in the evergreens, and its life-habits, less in our minds than the
overmastering musical sounds with which he fills the green places of
the earth from early spring until the great silence of July and August
falls on nature.
The song-thrush is a common species in suitable localities throughout
the British Islands, being rarest in the north of Scotland. He is found
in this country all the year round, but it was discovered many years
ago, by Professor Newton, that a very limited number of birds remain to
winter with us. Probably they migrate by night, as the fieldfare and
redwing are known to do, and, being much less gregarious than those
birds, come and go without exciting attention. The fact remains that,
where they are abundant in summer, a time comes in autumn when they
mysteriously vanish. One or two individuals may remain where twenty or
thirty existed previously; and if they only shifted their quarters,
as the missel-thrushes do in some parts of the country, they would be
found in considerable numbers during the winter in some districts. But
the disappearance is general. I am inclined to think that this thrush
migration is not so general as Professor Newton believes, and that the
birds that leave our shores are mainly those that breed in the northern
parts of the country. During the exceptionally severe winter of 1894–5
the thrushes that remained with us suffered more than most species, and
in the following spring I found that the song-thrush had become rare
throughout the southern half of England.
FIG. 19.--THROSTLE’S NEST.
Nesting begins in March, the site selected being the centre of a hedge,
or a thick holly or other evergreen bush, or a mass of ivy against a
wall or tree. The nest is built of dry grass, small twigs, and moss,
and plastered inside with mud, or clay, or cow-dung, and lined with
rotten wood. This is a strange material for a nest to be lined with,
and is not used by any other bird; the fragments of rotten wood are
wetted when used, and, being pressed smoothly down, form a cork-like
lining, very hard when dry. Four or five eggs are laid, pale greenish
blue in ground-colour, thickly marked with small deep brown spots,
almost black. Two, and sometimes three, broods are reared in the
season.
During the day, when not singing, the thrush is a silent bird; in the
evening he becomes noisy, and chirps and chatters and screams excitedly
before settling to roost.
Insects of all kinds, earthworms, and slugs and snails, are eaten by
the song-thrush. The snail-shells are broken by being struck vigorously
against a stone; and as the same stone is often used for the purpose,
quantities of newly broken shells are sometimes found scattered round
it. He is a great hunter after earthworms, and it would appear from his
actions that the sense of hearing rather than that of sight is relied
on to discover the worm. For the worm, however near the surface, is
still under it, and usually a close bed of grass covers the ground;
yet you will see a thrush hopping about a lawn stand motionless for
two or three seconds, then hop rapidly to a spot half a yard away,
and instantly plunge his beak into the earth and draw out a worm. The
supposition is that he has _heard_ it moving in the earth. He is
also a fruit and berry eater, both wild and cultivated.
Redwing.
Turdus iliacus.
Upper parts olive-brown; a broad white streak above the eye; under
parts white, with numerous oblong, dusky spots; under wing-coverts and
flanks orange-red. Length, eight and a half inches.
* * * * *
In size and general appearance the redwing resembles the song-thrush.
Like the fieldfare, he is a winter visitor from northern Europe,
arriving a little earlier on the east coast, and differing from his
fellow-migrants in being less hardy. He is more of an insect-eater,
and is incapable of thriving on berries and seeds; hence in very
severe seasons he is the greater sufferer, and sometimes perishes in
considerable numbers when, in the same localities, the fieldfare is
not sensibly affected. Nor is he of so vagrant a habit as the larger
thrush: year after year he returns to the same place to spend the
winter months, feeding in the same meadows, and roosting in the same
plantations, until the return of spring calls him to the north. He is
partial to cultivated districts where there are woods and grass-lands,
and passes the daylight hours in meadows and moist grounds near water,
returning regularly in the evening to the roosting-trees.
At all seasons the redwing is gregarious, and in its summer haunts
many birds are found nesting in close proximity. A good deal of
interest attaches to the subject of its song, which Linnæus thought
‘delightful,’ and comparable to that of the nightingale--an opinion
ridiculed by Professor Newton in his edition of Yarrell. Richard
Jefferies, who found the redwing breeding and heard its summer song in
England, describes its strain as ‘sweet and loud--far louder than the
old, familiar notes of the thrush. The note rang out clear and high,
and somehow sounded strangely unfamiliar among English meadows and
English oaks.’[1]
Fieldfare.
Turdus pilaris.
Head, nape, and lower part of the back dark ash-grey; upper part of the
back and wing-coverts chestnut-brown; a white line above the eye; chin
and throat yellow streaked with black; breast reddish brown spotted
with black; belly, flanks, and lower tail-coverts white, the last two
spotted with greyish brown; under wing-coverts white. Length, ten
inches.
* * * * *
In size and colouring, more especially in the spotted under parts,
the fieldfare comes near enough to the missel-thrush to be sometimes
confounded with it. Thus, flocks of missel-thrushes seen in autumn are
sometimes mistaken for fieldfares that have come at an exceptionally
early date to warn the inhabitants of these islands that the winter
will be a severe one. The fieldfare is slightly less in size than the
missel-thrush, and has a more variegated plumage, and when seen close
at hand is a handsome bird.
He is one of the latest winter visitors to arrive, seldom appearing
before the end of October. The return migration takes place at the end
of April, or later; flocks of fieldfares have been known to remain in
this country to the end of May, and even to the first week in June.
Like the redwing, he is gregarious all the year round; in his summer
home in the Norwegian forests he exists in communities, and the nests
are built near each other. The migration is usually performed by night,
and the harsh cries of the travellers may be heard in the dark sky, on
the east coasts of England and Scotland, at the end of October, and in
November. From the time of their arrival until they leave us they are
seen in flocks of twenty or thirty to several hundreds of individuals.
They do not, like the redwings, attach themselves to certain
localities, but wander incessantly from place to place, ranging over
the entire area of Great Britain and Ireland. Owing to this vagrancy,
the fieldfare is an extremely familiar bird to the countryman, and
invariably its first appearance, and harsh yet joyous clamour, as of
jays screaming and magpies chattering in concert, call up a sudden
image of winter--cold, brief days and a snow-whitened earth, and
memories of that early period in life when the great seasonal changes
impress the mind so deeply.
In open weather the fieldfares seek their food in meadows and pastures,
also in the fields. Unlike the missel-thrushes, that move about in all
directions over the ground, the fieldfares when feeding all move in
the same direction. In like manner, when the flock repairs to a tree,
the birds on their perches are all seen facing one way--a very pretty
spectacle. When their feeding-grounds are frozen, or covered with snow,
they go to the hedges and devour the hips and haws, and any other wild
fruit that remains ungathered; if severe weather continues, they take
their departure to more southern lands. Their flight is strong, easy,
and slightly undulating, and before settling to feed the flock often
wheels gracefully about over the field for some time.
The song of the fieldfare, described by Seebohm as a ‘wild desultory
warble,’ uttered on the wing, is not known to us in this country--it is
a song of summer and of love; but in genial weather, when the birds are
faring well, they often burst out into a concert of agreeable sounds
just after alighting in a tree.
In the evening when settling to roost they are extremely noisy like
most thrushes, and their cries may be heard until dark.
Blackbird.
Turdus merula.
Black; bill and orbits of the eyes orange-yellow. _Female_: sooty
brown. Length, ten inches.
* * * * *
[Illustration: FIG. 20.--BLACKBIRD’S NEST.]
Among the feathered inhabitants of these islands there is scarcely
a more familiar figure than that of the blackbird. Not only is he
very generally diffused, and abundant in all suitable localities,
but he is attached to human habitations--a bird of the garden, lawn,
and shrubberies. His music is much to us, his beautiful mellow voice
being unique in character in this country. But, more than his voice,
his love of gardens and their produce, and whatever else serves to
make him better known than most birds, is his blackness. Excepting the
crows, he is the only British bird in the passerine order with a wholly
black plumage; and his bright yellow bill increases the effect of the
blackness, and, like a golden crown, gives him a strange beauty.
Like his companion of the garden and shrubbery, the throstle, he is
a skulker, and on the least alarm takes shelter under the thickest
evergreen within reach. When disturbed from his hiding-place he rushes
out impetuously with a great noise, making the place resound with his
loud, clear, ringing and musical chuckle. But he is not so inveterate
a skulker and in love with the shade as the other. You will sometimes
find him on hillsides and open moors, or nesting in the scanty tufts
of sea-campion on rocky islands where he has for only neighbour
the rock-pipit. But above all situations he prefers the garden and
well-planted ground, and in such places is most abundant. His food is
the same as that of the throstle, and is taken in much the same way: he
listens for the earthworms working near the surface of the ground, and
hammers the snails against a stone to break the shells. In the fruit
season he is very troublesome to the gardener, and greedily devours
strawberries, cherries, currants, gooseberries and mulberries.
The song of the male begins early in spring, and is mostly heard during
the early and late hours of the day. Its charm consists in the peculiar
soft, rich, melodious quality of the sound, and the placid, leisurely
manner in which it is delivered. But the manner varies greatly. ‘He
sings in a quiet, leisurely way, as a great master should,’ says
Richard Jefferies; unfortunately, the great master too often ends
his performance unworthily with an unmusical note, or he collapses
ignominiously at the close. John Burroughs, the American writer on
birds, thus describes it: ‘It was the most leisurely strain I heard.
Amid the loud, vivacious, work-a-day chorus it had an easeful _dolce
far niente_ effect.... It constantly seemed to me as if the bird was
a learner, and had not yet mastered his art. The tone is fine, but the
execution is laboured; the musician does not handle his instrument with
deftness and confidence.’ Perhaps it may be said that, of all the most
famed bird-songs, that of the blackbird is the least perfect and the
most delightful.
The blackbird places his nest in the centre of a hedge or in an
evergreen; it is formed of herbs, roots, and coarse grass, plastered
inside with mud, and lined with fine dry grass. Four to six eggs are
laid, light greenish blue in ground-colour, mottled with pale brown.
Two or three, and sometimes as many as four, broods are reared in the
season.
In the northern and more exposed parts of the country the blackbird
has a partial migration, or shifts his quarters to more sheltered
localities in the winter.
Ring-Ouzel.
Turdus torquatus.
FIG. 21.--RING-OUZEL. ⅕ natural size.
Black, the feathers edged with greyish white; a large crescent-shaped,
pure white spot on the throat. Length, eleven inches. _Female_:
plumage greyer; the white mark narrower and less pure.
* * * * *
The ring-ouzel is sometimes called the ‘mountain blackbird,’ on account
of his likeness to the common species. He is more a ground bird and
less skulking in habit than the garden blackbird, but in appearance
and motions strongly resembles him. On alighting he throws up and fans
his tail in the same way, and is very clamorous when going to roost in
the evening. His manner of feeding is much the same: hopping along the
ground, frequently pausing to look up, and anon plunging his beak into
the soil to draw out a grub or earthworm. He breaks the snail-shells in
the same way, and is equally fond of fruits and berries, both wild and
cultivated.
The ring-ouzel is a summer visitor to this country, arriving about the
beginning of April, and spends the summer months and breeds in the
higher, least-frequented parts of Dartmoor, in Devonshire, and the
hilly part of Derbyshire, and many localities in the north of England.
He is also found in various localities in Wales, Scotland, and Ireland.
On their arrival the birds are seen for a short period in flocks,
sometimes of considerable size, frequenting wet and marshy grounds.
As soon as pairing takes place the flocks break up, and the birds
distribute themselves over the mountains and high uplands. The song
of the male is heard after the birds have paired and made choice of a
breeding-site. It is a powerful song, delightful to listen to, partly
for its own wild, glad character, but more on account of the savage
beauty and solitariness of the nature amidst which it is usually heard.
The nest is placed upon or close to the ground, beneath or in a tuft
of heather; and occasionally is built in a low bush or tree. Outwardly
it is made of coarse grass or twigs of heather, plastered inside with
mud or clay, and lined with fine dry grass. The four or five eggs are
bluish green, blotched with reddish brown.
Seebohm has the following spirited description of the ring-ouzel’s
action in the presence of danger to its nest: ‘Approach their treasure,
and, although you have no knowledge of its whereabouts, you speedily
know that you are on sacred ground.... _Something_ sweeps suddenly
round your head, probably brushing your face. You look round, and there
the ring-ouzel, perched close at hand, is eyeing you wrathfully, and
ready to do battle, despite the odds, for the protection of her abode.
Move, and the attack is resumed, this time with loud and dissonant
cries that wake the solitudes of the barren moor around. Undauntedly
the birds fly around you, pause for a moment on some mass of rock, or
reel and tumble on the ground to decoy you away. As you approach still
closer the anxiety of the female, if possible, increases; her cries,
with those of her mate, disturb the birds around; the red grouse,
startled, skims over the shoulder of the hill to find solitude; the
moor-pipit chirps anxiously by; and the gay little stonechat flits
uneasily from bush to bush. So long as you tarry near their treasure
the birds will accompany you, and, by using every artifice, endeavour
to allure or draw you away from its vicinity.’
* * * * *
Besides the six species described, there are three thrushes to be
found in works on British birds: the black-throated thrush (_Turdus
atrigularis_), a straggler from Central Siberia; White’s thrush
(_T. varius_), from North-east Siberia; and the rock-thrush
(_Monticola saxatilis_), from South Europe, a member of a group
that connects the true thrushes (Turdus) with the wheatears (Saxicola).
Wheatear.
Saxicola œnanthe.
[Illustration: FIG. 22.--WHEATEAR. ⅓ natural size.]
Upper parts bluish grey; wings and wing-coverts, centre and extremity
of the tail, feet, bill, and area comprising the nostrils, eyes, and
ears, black; base and lower portion of the side of the tail pure
white; chin, forehead, stripe over the eye, and under parts, white. In
autumn, upper parts reddish brown and tail feathers tipped with white.
_Female_: upper parts ash-brown tinged with yellow; stripe over
the eye dingy. Length, six and a half inches.
* * * * *
To those who are attracted to solitary, desert places, who find in
wildness a charm superior to all others, the wheatear, conspicuous
in black and white and bluish grey plumage, is a familiar figure--a
pretty little wild friend; for he, too, prefers the uncultivated
wastes, the vast downs, the mountain slopes, and the stony barren
uplands. He is one of the earliest, if not the first, of the summer
migrants to arrive on our shores. They appear early in March, sometimes
at the end of February, on the south and east coasts, after crossing
the Channel by night or during the early hours of the morning. They
come in ‘rushes,’ at intervals of two or three days. In the morning
they are seen in thousands; but after a few hours’ rest these
travellers hurry on to their distant breeding-grounds, and perhaps for
a day or two scarcely a bird will be visible; then another multitude
appears, and so on, until the entire vast army has distributed itself
far and wide over the British area, from the Sussex and Dorset coasts
to the extreme North of Scotland and the Hebrides, the Orkneys, and
Shetlands. The return migration begins early in August, and lasts
until the middle of September. During this period the downs on the
Sussex coast form a great camping-ground of the wheatears, and they
are then taken in snares by the shepherds for the markets. Most of the
birds taken are young; they are excessively fat, and are esteemed a
great delicacy. The wheatear harvest has, however, now dwindled down
to something very small compared with former times; it astonishes us
to read in Pennant that a century and a quarter ago eighteen hundred
dozens of these birds were annually taken in the neighbourhood of
Eastbourne alone. The great decrease in the number of wheatears is no
doubt due to the reclamation of waste lands, where this bird finds the
conditions suited to it. To a variety of climates it is able to adapt
itself: the vast area it inhabits includes almost the whole continent
of Europe, from the hot south to the furthermost north; and westwards
its range extends to Iceland, Greenland, and Labrador. But cultivation
it cannot tolerate: when the plough comes the wheatear vanishes.
Fortunately, there must always be waste and desert places--the
scattered areas on mountain-sides, barren moors and downs, and rocky
coasts, that cannot be made productive. In such spots the wheatear
is an unfailing summer companion, and at once attracts attention by
his appearance and motions. He is fond of perching on a rock, stone
wall, or other elevation, but seldom alights on bushes and trees. He
runs rapidly and freely on the ground, and, pausing at intervals and
standing erect, moves his tail deliberately up and down. He flies
readily, his rump and tail flashing white as he rises; and after going
but a short distance, flying close to the ground, he alights again, and
jerks and fans his tail two or three times. He feeds on grubs, small
beetles, and other insects picked up from the ground, but also pursues
and catches flying insects. He has a short, sharp call-note that sounds
like two pieces of stone struck smartly together; hence the name of
‘stone-clatter,’ by which he is known in some localities. His short and
simple song would attract little attention in groves and gardens; it is
charming on account of the barren, silent situations it is heard in. It
gives life to the solitude, and is a love-song, accompanied by pretty
gestures and motions, and is frequently uttered as the bird hovers in
the air.
The wheatear breeds in a cavity under a stone, or in a hole or crevice
in a stone wall; also in cairns and in the cavities in peat-stacks,
and occasionally in a disused rabbit-burrow or under a clod of earth.
The nest is made of dry grass, loosely put together and slightly lined
with some soft material--moss and rootlets, rabbits’ fur, horsehair, or
wool, or feathers. From four to seven eggs are laid, pale greenish blue
in colour, in some cases faintly marked with purplish specks at the
large end.
The wheatear, owing to its wide distribution in this country, is known
by a variety of local names in different districts; of these may be
mentioned _fallowchat_, _whitetail_, _stone-cracker_, _chack-bird_, and
_clod-hopper_.
* * * * *
Two other species of the genus Saxicola have been included in the list
of British birds. These are the black-throated wheatear (_Saxicola
strapazina_), of which a single specimen has been obtained, and
the desert wheatear (_Saxicola deserti_), of which two or three
specimens have been shot.
Whinchat.
Pratincola rubetra.
Upper parts dusky brown edged with reddish yellow; broad white stripe
over the eye; throat and sides of neck white; neck and breast bright
yellowish red; a large white spot on the wings and base of the tail;
tip of the tail and the two middle feathers dusky brown; belly and
flanks yellowish white. _Female_: colours duller; white spot on
the wing smaller. Length, five inches and a quarter.
* * * * *
Of the three British species forming this group of two genera
(Saxicola and Pratincola)--the fallowchat, stonechat, and whinchat--the
last-named is the least striking, whether in appearance or habits. His
modest plumage has neither brightness nor strongly contrasted colours;
and although he is a frequenter of furze-grown commons, and named on
this account furzechat, or whinchat, he is not, like the stonechat,
restricted to them. He inhabits both wild and cultivated grounds, rough
commons and waste lands, mountain-sides, and meadows and grass fields
divided by hedgerows. He roosts, breeds, and obtains most of his food
on the ground; but he loves to perch on bushes and low trees, and in
most open situations where these grow the whinchat may be met with. On
his arrival in April he feeds very much on the fallows, but later, in
May, forsakes them for the neighbouring grass fields, where he makes
his nest. He is commonly seen perched on the summit of a bush, low
tree, or hedgerow, and, like the stonechat, he makes frequent short
excursions in pursuit of flying insects. When approached he grows
restless on his perch, fans his tail at intervals, and frequently
utters his low call or alarm note; then flies away, to perch again at
a short distance from the intruder, and flies and perches again, and
finally doubles back and returns to the first spot. Besides the insects
he catches flying, he feeds on small beetles, grubs, worms, &c., found
about the roots of the grass. He is frequently seen fluttering close to
the surface of the tall grass, picking small insects from the leaves,
and is most active in seeking his food during the evening twilight.
The whinchat’s low warbling song, which has some resemblance to that of
the redstart, is mostly heard in the love season, and is uttered both
from its perch on the summit of a bush or tree, and when hovering in
the air.