first-class rascal to warrant the belief that there must be at least
some grounds for such accusations being made. In his examination of
one hundred and fourteen stomachs of this bird, taken during ten
months of the year, Professor Forbes, of Illinois, found the contents
to consist of sixty-five per cent insects and thirty-four per cent of
fruits and seeds. In the estimates of these food percentages taken by
the Robin, as well as by other birds, bulk for bulk is taken, i.e., a
quart of caterpillars or other insects is equivalent to a quart of
cherries or a quart of berries. Professor Forbes asks this question:
"Will the destruction of seventeen quarts of average caterpillars,
including at least eight quarts of cut-worms, pay for twenty-four
quarts of cherries, blackberries, currents, and grapes?" and then
answers it in these words: "To this question I, for my own part, can
only reply that I do not believe that the horticulturist can sell his
small fruits anywhere in the ordinary markets of the world at so high
a price as to the Robin, provided that he uses proper diligence that
the little huckster doesn't overreach him in the bargain."
Much more might be said in favor of the Robin had I the time and space
at my command.
After having carefully scanned the foregoing notes concerning the
food-habits of our birds we cannot afford to continue indifferent to
our treatment of them, nor can we even allow our neighbors to kill
them though we ourselves have decided to reform in this respect. We
must work for a change of heart in our neighbors also.
THE SCISSOR BEAK
(FROM A JOURNAL OF RESEARCHES, ETC.)
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
[Illustration]
It has short legs, web feet, extremely long--pointed wings, and is
about the size of a tern. The beak is flattened laterally, that is, in
a plane at right angles to that of a spoonbill or duck. It is as flat
and elastic as an ivory paper-cutter, and the lower mandible,
differently from every other bird, is an inch and a half longer than
the upper. In a lake near Maldonado, from which the water had been
nearly drained, and which, in consequence, swarmed with small fry, I
saw several of these birds, generally in small flocks, flying rapidly
backwards and forwards close to the surface of the lake. They kept
their bills wide open, and the lower mandible half buried in the
water. Thus skimming the surface, they ploughed it in their course;
the water was quite smooth, and it formed a most curious spectacle to
behold a flock, each bird leaving its narrow wake on the mirror-like
surface. In their flight they frequently twist about with extreme
quickness, and dexterously manage with their projecting lower mandible
to plough up small fish, which are secured by the upper and shorter
half of their scissor-like bills. This fact I repeatedly saw, as, like
swallows, they continued to fly backwards and forwards close before
me. Occasionally when leaving the surface of the water their flight
was wild, irregular and rapid; then they uttered loud harsh cries.
When these birds are fishing, the advantage of the long primary
feathers of their wings, in keeping them dry, is very evident. When
thus employed, their forms resemble the symbol by which many artists
represent marine birds. Their tails are much used in steering their
irregular course.
These birds are common far inland along the course of the Rio Parana;
it is said that they remain here during the whole year, and breed in
the marshes. During the day they rest in flocks on the grassy plains,
at some distance from the water. Being at anchor, as I have said, in
one of the deep creeks between the islands of Parana, as the evening
drew to a close, one of these scissor-beaks suddenly appeared. The
water was quite still, and many little fish were rising. The bird
continued for a long time to skim the surface, flying in its wild and
irregular manner up and down the narrow canal, now dark with the
growing night and the shadows of the overhanging trees. At Montevideo,
I observed that some large flocks during the day remained on the
mud-banks at the head of the harbor, in the same manner as on the
grassy plains near the Parana; and every evening they took flight
seaward. From these facts I suspect that the Rhynchops generally
fishes by night, at which time many of the lower animals come most
abundantly to the surface. M. Lesson states that he has seen these
birds opening the shells of the mactrae buried in the sandbanks on the
coast of Chile; from their weak bills, with the lower mandible so much
projecting, their short legs and long wings, it is very improbable
that this can be a general habit.
[Illustration]
THE CONDOR
(FROM A JOURNAL OF RESEARCHES, ETC.)
BY CHARLES DARWIN.
[Illustration]
This day I shot a condor. It measured from tip to tip of the wings
eight and a half feet, and from beak to tail, four feet. This bird is
known to have a wide geographical range, being found on the west coast
of South America, from the Strait of Magellan along the Cordillera as
far as eight degrees north of the equator. The steep cliff near the
mouth of the Rio Negro is its northern limit on the Patagonian coast;
and they have there wandered about four hundred miles from the great
central line of their habitation in the Andes. Further south, among
the bold precipices at the head of Port Desire, the condor is not
uncommon; yet only a few stragglers occasionally visit the seacoast. A
line of cliff near the mouth of the Santa Cruz is frequented by these
birds, and about eighty miles up the river, where the sides of the
valley are formed by steep basaltic precipices, the condor reappears.
From these facts, it seems that the condors require perpendicular
cliffs. In Chile, they haunt, during the greater part of the year, the
lower country near the shores of the Pacific, and at night several
roost together in one tree; but in the early part of summer, they
retire to the most inaccessible parts of the inner Cordilleras, there
to breed in peace.
With respect to their propagation, I was told by the country people in
Chile, that the condor makes no sort of nest, but in the months of
November and December lays two large white eggs on a shelf of bare
rock. It is said that the young condors cannot fly for an entire year;
and long after they are able, they continue to roost by night, and
hunt with their parents. The old birds generally live in pairs; but
among the inland basaltic cliffs of the Santa Cruz, I found a spot,
where scores must usually haunt. On coming suddenly to the brow of the
precipice, it was a grand spectacle to see between twenty and thirty
of these birds start heavily from their resting-place, and wheel away
in majestic circles. From the quantity of dung on the rocks, they must
long have frequented this place for roosting and breeding. Having
gorged themselves with carrion on the plains below, they retire to
these favorite ledges to digest their food. From these facts, the
condor, like the gallinazo, must to a certain degree be considered as
a gregarious bird. In this part of the country they live altogether on
the guanacos which have died a natural death, or, as more commonly
happens, have been killed by the pumas. I believe, from what I saw in
Patagonia, they do not on ordinary occasions extend their daily
excursions to any great distance from their regular sleeping-places.
The condors may oftentimes be seen at a great height, soaring over a
certain spot in the most graceful circles. On some occasions I am sure
that they do this only for pleasure, but on others, the Chileno
countryman tells you that they are watching a dying animal, or the
puma devouring its prey. If the condors glide down, and then suddenly
all rise together, the Chileno knows that it is the puma which,
watching the carcass, has sprung out to drive away the robbers.
Besides feeding on carrion, the condors frequently attack young goats
and lambs; and the shepherd dogs are trained, whenever they pass over,
to run out, and looking upwards to bark violently. The Chilenos
destroy and catch numbers. Two methods are used; one is to place a
carcass on a level piece of ground within an enclosure of sticks with
an opening, and when the condors are gorged, to gallop up on horseback
to the entrance, and thus enclose them; for when this bird has not
space to run, it cannot give its body sufficient momentum to rise from
the ground. The second method is to mark the trees in which,
frequently to the number of five or six together, they roost, and then
at night to climb up and noose them. They are such heavy sleepers, as
I have myself witnessed, that this is not a difficult task. At
Valpariso, I have seen a living condor sold for sixpence, but the
common price is eight or ten shillings. One which I saw brought in had
been tied with rope, and was much injured; yet, the moment the line
was cut by which its bill was secured, although surrounded by people,
it began ravenously to tear a piece of carrion. In a garden at the
same place, between twenty and thirty were kept alive. They were fed
only once a week, but they appeared in pretty good health. The Chileno
countrymen assert that the condor will live, and retain its vigor,
between five and six weeks without eating; I cannot answer for the
truth of this, but it is a cruel experiment, which very likely has
been tried.
When an animal is killed in the country, it is well known that the
condors, like other carrion-vultures, soon gain intelligence of it,
and congregate in an inexplicable manner. In most cases it must not be
overlooked, that the birds have discovered their prey, and have picked
the skeleton clean, before the flesh is in the least degree tainted.
Remembering the experiments of M. Audubon, on the little smelling
powers of carrion-hawks, I tried in the above-mentioned garden the
following experiment: the condors were tied, each by a rope, in a long
row at the bottom of a wall; and having folded up a piece of meat in
white paper, I walked backwards and forwards, carrying it in my hand
at the distance of about three yards from them, but no notice whatever
was taken. I then threw it on the ground, within one yard of an old
male bird; he looked at it for a moment with attention, but then
regarded it no more. With a stick I pushed it closer and closer, until
at last he touched it with his beak; the paper was then instantly torn
off with fury, and at the same moment, every bird in the long row
began struggling and flapping its wings. Under the same circumstances,
it would have been quite impossible to have deceived a dog. The
evidence in favor of and against the acute smelling powers of
carrion-vultures is singularly balanced. Professor Owen has
demonstrated that the olfactory nerves of the turkey-buzzard
(_Cathartes aura_) are highly developed; and on the evening when Mr.
Owen's paper was read at the Zooelogical Society, it was mentioned by a
gentleman that he had seen the carrion-hawks in the West Indies on two
occasions collect on the roof of a house, when a corpse had become
offensive from not having been buried: in this case, the intelligence
could hardly have been acquired by sight. On the other hand, besides
the experiments of Audubon and that one by myself, Mr. Bachman has
tried in the United States many varied plans, showing that neither the
turkey-buzzard (the species dissected by Professor Owen) nor the
gallinazo find their food by smell. He covered portions of highly
offensive offal with a thin canvas cloth, and strewed pieces of meat
on it; these the carrion-vultures ate up, and then remained quietly
standing, with their beaks within the eighth of an inch of the putrid
mass, without discovering it. A small rent was made in the canvas, and
the offal was immediately discovered; the canvas was replaced by a
fresh piece, and meat again put on it, and was again devoured by the
vultures without their discovering the hidden mass on which they were
trampling. These facts are attested by the signatures of six
gentlemen, besides that of Mr. Bachman.
Often when lying down to rest on the open plains, on looking upwards,
I have seen carrion-hawks sailing through the air at a great height.
When the country is level I do not believe a space of the heavens, of
more than fifteen degrees above the horizon, is commonly viewed with
any attention by a person either walking or on horseback. If such be
the case, and the vulture is on the wing at a height of between three
or four thousand feet, before it could come within the range of
vision, its distance in a straight line from the beholder's eye, would
be rather more than two British miles. Might it not thus readily be
overlooked? When an animal is killed by the sportsman in a lonely
valley, may he not all the while be watched from above by the
sharp-sighted bird? And will not the manner of its descent proclaim
throughout the district to the whole family of carrion feeders, that
their prey is at hand?
When the condors are wheeling in a flock round and round any spot,
their flight is beautiful. Except when rising from the ground, I do
not recollect ever having seen one of these birds flap its wings. Near
Lima, I watched several for nearly half an hour, without once taking
off my eyes; they moved in large curves, sweeping in circles,
descending and ascending without giving a single flap. As they glided
close over my head, I intently watched from an oblique position, the
outlines of the separate and great terminal feathers of each wing; and
these separate feathers, if there had been the least vibratory
movement, would have appeared as if blended together; for they were
seen distinct against the blue sky. The head and neck were moved
frequently, and apparently with force; and the extended wings seemed
to form the fulcrum on which the movements of the neck, body, and tail
acted. If the bird wished to descend, the wings were for a moment
collapsed; and when again expanded with an altered inclination, the
momentum gained by the rapid descent seemed to urge the bird upwards
with the even and steady movement of a paper kite. In the case of any
bird _soaring_, its motion must be sufficiently rapid, so that the
action of the inclined surface of its body on the atmosphere may
counterbalance its gravity. The force to keep up the momentum of a
body moving in a horizontal plane in the air (in which there is so
little friction) cannot be great, and this force is all that is
wanted. The movement of the neck and body of the condor, we must
suppose, is sufficient for this. However this may be, it is truly
wonderful and beautiful to see so great a horde, hour after hour,
without any apparent exertion, wheeling and gliding over mountain and
river.
[Illustration]
THE UMBRELLA BIRD
(FROM TRAVELS ON THE AMAZON.)
BY SIR A. R. WALLACE.
[Illustration]
This singular bird is about the size of a raven, and is of a similar
color, but its feathers have a more scaly appearance, from being
margined with a different shade of glossy blue. It is also allied to
the crows in its structure, being very similar to them in its feet and
bill. On its head it bears a crest, different from that of any other
bird. It is formed of feathers more than two inches long, very thickly
set, and with hairy plumes curving over at the end. These can be laid
back so as to be hardly visible, or can be erected and spread out on
every side, forming a hemi-spherical, or rather a hemi-ellipsoidal
dome, completely covering the head, and even reaching beyond the point
of the beak: the individual feathers then stand out something like the
down-bearing seeds of the dandelion. Besides this, there is another
ornamental appendage on the breast, formed by a fleshy tubercle, as
thick as a quill and an inch and a half long, which hangs down from
the neck, and is thickly covered with glossy feathers, forming a large
pendant plume or tassel. This also the bird can either press to its
breast, so as to be scarcely visible, or can swell out, so as almost
to conceal the forepart of its body. In the female the crest and the
neck-plume are less developed, and she is altogether a smaller and
much less handsome bird. It inhabits the flooded islands of the Rio
Negro and the Solimoes, never appearing on the mainland. It feeds on
fruits, and utters a loud, hoarse cry, like some deep musical
instrument; whence its Indian name, _Uera-mimbe_, "trumpet-bird." The
whole of the neck, where the plume of feathers springs from, is
covered internally with a thick coat of hard, muscular fat, very
difficult to be cleaned away,--which in preparing the skins, must be
done, as it would putrefy, and cause the feathers to drop off. The
birds are tolerably abundant, but are shy, and perch on the highest
trees, and, being very muscular, will not fall unless severely
wounded.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE UMBRELLA BIRD.]
HUMMING BIRDS
(FROM THE NATURALIST IN NICARAGUA.)
BY THOMAS G. BELT, F.G.S.
[Illustration]
Soon after crossing the muddy Artigua below Pavon, a beautifully clear
and sparkling brook is reached, coming down to join its pure waters
with the soiled river below. In the evening this was a favorite resort
of many birds that came to drink at the pellucid stream, or catch
insects playing above the water. Amongst the last was the beautiful
blue, green and white humming-bird; the head and neck deep
metallic-blue, bordered on the back by a pure white collar over the
shoulders, followed by deep metallic-green; on the underside the blue
neck is succeeded by green, the green from the centre of the breast to
the end of the tail by pure white; the tail can be expanded to a half
circle, and each feather widening towards the end makes the semicircle
complete around the edge. When catching the ephemeridae that play above
the water, the tail is not expanded: it is reserved for times of
courtship. I have seen the female sitting quietly on a branch, and
two males displaying their charms in front of her. One would shoot up
like a rocket, than suddenly expanding the snow-white tail like an
inverted parachute, slowly descend in front of her, turning round
gradually to show off both back and front. The effect was heightened
by the wings being invisible from a distance of a few yards, both from
their great velocity of movement and from not having the metallic
lustre of the rest of the body. The expanded white tail covered more
space than all the rest of the bird, and was evidently the grand
feature in the performance. Whilst one was descending, the other would
shoot up and come slowly down expanded. The entertainment would end in
a fight between the two performers; but whether the most beautiful or
the most pugnacious was the accepted suitor, I know not. Another fine
humming-bird seen about this brook was the long-billed, fire-throated
_Heliomaster pallidiceps_, Gould, generally seen probing long,
narrow-throated red flowers, forming, with their attractive nectar,
complete traps for the small insects on which the humming-birds feed,
the bird returning the favor by carrying the pollen of one flower to
another. A third species, also seen at this brook, _Petasophora
delphinae_, Less., is of a dull brown color, with brilliant
ear-feathers and metallic-green throat. Both it and the _Florisuga
mellivora_ are short billed, generally catching flying insects, and do
not frequent flowers so much as other humming-birds. I have seen the
_Petasophora_ fly into the centre of a dancing column of midges and
rapidly darting first at one end then at another secure half a dozen
of the tiny flies before the column was broken up; then retire to a
branch and wait until it was re-formed, when it made another sudden
descent on them.... I have no doubt many humming-birds suck the honey
from flowers, as I have seen it exude from their bills when shot; but
others do not frequent them; and the principal food of all is small
insects. I have examined scores of them, and never without finding
insects in their crops. Their generally long bills have been spoken of
by some naturalists as tubes into which they suck the honey by a
piston-like movement of the tongue; but suction in the usual way would
be just as effective; and I am satisfied that this is not the primary
use of the tongue, nor of the mechanism which enables it to be exerted
to a great length beyond the end of the bill. The tongue, for one-half
of its length, is semi-horny and cleft in two, the two halves are laid
flat against each other when at rest, but can be separated at the will
of the bird and form a delicate pliable pair of forceps, most
admirably adapted for picking out minute insects from amongst the
stamens of the flowers.
[Illustration]
THE FOUNDATIONS OF A WONDERFUL CITY
(FROM THE LIFE OF THE BEES.)
BY MAURICE MAETERLINCK.
(TRANSLATED BY MARIE JOSEPHINE WELSH.)
[Illustration]
Here in their new home there is nothing--not a drop of honey nor a
single landmark in the shape of a piece of wax. The bee has no data
and no starting-point; he has nothing but the desolate nakedness of
the walls and the roof of an immense building. The walls are round and
smooth, but all is dark within.... The bee does not understand useless
regrets, or if he does, he does not encumber himself with them. Far
from being discouraged by the conditions which now confront him, he is
more determined than ever. The hive is no sooner set up in its proper
place than the disorder of the crowd begins to diminish, and one sees
in the swarming multitude clear and definite divisions which take
shape in a most unexpected manner. The larger part of the bees, acting
precisely like an army which is obeying the definite orders of its
officer, at once begins to form thick columns along the whole length
of the vertical partitions of the hive. The first to arrive at the top
hang on to the arch by the claws of their hind legs, those who come
after attach themselves to the first, and so on till long chains are
formed which serve as bridges for the ever mounting crowd to pass
over. Little by little these chains are multiplied with indefinite
re-enforcements and interlacing each other become garlands, which,
owing to the enormous and uninterrupted mounting of the bees upon
them, are transformed into a thick triangular curtain, or rather into
a sort of compact reversed cone, the point of which is attached to the
top of the hive; the base of which is about two-thirds of the total
height of the hive. Then the last bee, which would appear to be
summoned by some interior voice to join this group, mounts this
curtain, which is hung in the darkness, and little by little every
movement among the vast crowd ceases, and this strange reversed cone
remains for many hours in a silence which might be called religious,
and in a statuesqueness which in such a mass of life is almost
startling, waiting for the arrival of the mystery of the wax.
[Illustration: CLUSTER OF BEES.]
[Illustration: A BEE HIVE.]
While this is going on, without taking any notice of the wonderful
curtain from out of whose folds so magic a gift will come, without
even appearing to be tempted to attach themselves to it, the rest of
the bees, that is all those who are on the floor of the hive, begin to
examine the building and to undertake the work which is necessary to
be done. The floor is carefully swept, dead leaves, twigs, grains of
sand are transferred to a considerable distance one by one, for bees
have an absolute mania for cleanliness; so much is this the case that
in the winter, when the extremely cold weather prevents them from
taking what bee lovers know as their "flight of cleanliness," rather
than soil the interior of the hive they perish in enormous numbers,
victims of a disease of the stomach.
After this cleaning up is done these same bees set themselves to work
to carefully close up every opening which is round about the lower
part of the hive. Finally when every crack has been carefully looked
over, filled up and covered with propolis, they begin to varnish the
whole of the interior sides. By this time guardians are placed at the
entrance of the hive, and very soon a number of the working bees start
on their first trip to the fields and begin to come back laden with
nectar and pollen....
Let us now lift up, so far as we may, one of the folds of this
garlanded curtain in the midst of which the swarm is beginning to
produce that strange exudation which is almost as white as snow, and
is lighter than the down on a bird's breast. The wax which is now
being made does not resemble at all that with which we are acquainted.
It is colorless, and may be said to be imponderable. It is the very
soul of the honey, which in its turn is the very spirit of the
flowers, evolved by the bees in a species of silent and motionless
incantation....
* * * * *
It is very difficult to follow the various phases of the secretion and
of the manner in which the wax is evolved by the swarm which is just
beginning to build. The operation takes place in the midst of a dense
crowd which becomes constantly more and more dense, thus producing a
temperature favorable to the exudation of the wax in its first stage.