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COUNTRY WALKS OF A NATURALIST
WITH
HIS CHILDREN.
BY
REV. W. HOUGHTON, M.A., F.L.S.,
RECTOR OF PRESTON ON THE WILD MOORS, SHROPSHIRE.
ILLUSTRATED WITH EIGHT COLOURED PLATES AND
NUMEROUS WOOD ENGRAVINGS.
SECOND EDITION.
LONDON:
GROOMBRIDGE AND SONS,
5, PATERNOSTER ROW.
MDCCCLXX.
PREFACE.
In this little book my desire has been, not so much to impart
knowledge to young people, as to induce them to acquire it for
themselves. I have endeavoured to show that Country Walks may be full
of interest and instruction to all who care to make good use of their
eyes. If I have failed, the fault rests with me for the way in which I
have treated the subject. I am aware that I have occasionally used
words and phrases which may puzzle young brains, but I hope that
nearly all will be intelligible to boys and girls of nine or ten years
old, with a little explanation from parents or teachers.
The chief, if not the sole merit of this little book consists in the
illustrations which adorn it; and I must express my sincere gratitude
to Mr. Gould, the eminent ornithologist, for his kind permission to
copy some of the magnificent drawings in his work on 'The Birds of
Great Britain.' To Mr. R. S. Chattock, of Solihull, I am also deeply
indebted, for the pains he has taken in reproducing, on a reduced
scale, Mr. Gould's drawings, and for the drawings of the sticklebacks
and the frontispiece. My generous friend and neighbour, Mr. Eyton, of
Eyton, has furnished another instance of his numerous acts of
kindness, in allowing me the use of Mr. Gould's work and of various
woodcuts. To two lady friends I also express my best thanks; and last,
though not least, to the publishers, Messrs. Groombridge, for the care
they have taken to present the volume to the public in a very
attractive form.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
WALK I.--APRIL 1
On the Moors--Swallows--Water-voles--Peewits--Marsh
Marigold--Water-primrose--Moles--Herons--Kingfishers--
Moschatelle--Water-scorpion.
WALK II.--APRIL 17
Ophrydium--Reed Sparrow--Whirligig Beetles--Fresh-water
Mussels--Zebra Mussel--Titmice--Thrushes cracking
Snail-shells--Dabbling in a Pond--Dyticus, or Great
Water-beetle--Corethra Larva--Weasels.
WALK III.--MAY 36
Searching for Sticklebacks' Nests--Nest-making Fish--Snail
Leeches--Other Leeches--Cuckoo Flowers--Blue
Speedwell--Stitchwort--Tadpoles--Frogs--Frog and Cat.
WALK IV.--MAY 50
The Melicerta or Tubicolous Wheel-animalcule--Water-crowfoot
or Buttercup--Sedge-warbler--Reed-warbler's
Nest--Cuckoos--Horsetail--Hydræ.
WALK V.--MAY 69
Drive to Shawbury--Trout Fishing--Parasite on Trout--Curious habit
of a Two-winged Fly--Ephemeræ, or May-flies--Willy hooking out
Dace--Another fish Parasite--Globe Flower--Dragon-flies--Quotation
from Thomson's 'Seasons.'
WALK VI.--JUNE 84
In the Fields--St. George's Mushroom--Tree-creepers--A handful
of Grasses--Nettles and Dead Nettles--Butterfly--Larvæ feeding
on Nettle Leaves--Fresh-water Polyzoa--Eggs of Newts--Development
of Newts--Donacia Beetles--Planarian Worms.
WALK VII.--JUNE 103
Hedgehog and young ones--Hedgehogs, injurious or not?--On the
Moors again--Great Tomtit--Shrikes or Butcher Birds--Lady-bird
Beetles--Swifts--Coots--Water-hens--Grebes--Convolvulus.
WALK VIII.--JULY 119
Frog's Spawn Alga--Other Fresh-water Algæ--Hawks--Kestrel--Sparrow
Hawk--Buzzard--Shrew-mouse, superstitions about--Spiders' Nests
and Webs--Spiders' Fangs--Spiders' Feet.
WALK IX.--JULY 133
In the Fields again--Scarlet Pimpernel--Goat's Beard--Caddis Worms
and Flies--Forget-me-not--Goldfinches--Cruelty of country lads to
young birds--Grasshoppers--Crickets--Pike, voracity and size of.
WALK X.--OCTOBER 145
In the Woods at the foot of the Wrekin--A hunt for Fungi--Fly
Agarics--Victims nailed to a tree--Gamekeepers--Squirrels--Rare
Fungi--Woodcocks--Ring-marks on fallen timber--Conclusion.
* * * * *
COUNTRY WALKS OF A NATURALIST
WITH
HIS CHILDREN.
WALK I.
APRIL.
We could not have a more pleasant day, children, for a ramble in the
fields than to-day. It is warm and bright, and the birds are singing
merrily, thoroughly enjoying the sunshine; the little lambs are
frisking about, and running races with each other. Put away lessons
then, and we will have a holiday. "Oh," said Willy, "it will be so
pleasant, and I will take one or two bottles, and my gauze net,
because we are sure to find something interesting to bring home. Where
shall we go?" "I do not think it much matters where, for there is
always much to observe and to admire wherever we stroll in the
country." "Let us go on the moors, then," said Jack, "for you know,
papa, a little boy in the village told me the other day he had found a
peewit's nest with four eggs in, and I should like to try and find
one myself." Well, here we are, then; we shall have to jump over a
drain or two in our ramble, and as the banks are soft it will be
necessary to take great care, or we may tumble in. Ah! do you see,
there are two sand-martins, the first I have seen this year. See how
fast they fly, now sailing high up in the air, now skimming quite
close to the ground. I have not seen any swallows or house-martins
yet, but no doubt they will make their appearance in a few days.
"Where do they come from, papa," asked May, "because we never see
these birds in the winter? You often say, when the spring comes we
shall see the swallows, and then they go away again towards the end of
summer." Let us sit down on this clump of wood, and I will tell you
about the swallows.
We have in this country four different species of the swallow family
which visit us every year; they come to us from Africa: these are the
sand-martin, two specimens of which we have just seen, the swallow,
the house-martin, and the swift. A very little attention will enable
you to distinguish these different kinds. The sand-martin is the
smallest of the family; as the birds fly by us you notice that the
back part is brown, or mouse colour; the under part white. The back of
the house-martin is of a glossy black or bluish-black colour; it is
white underneath; while the swallow, which is larger than the other
two, has a glossy back, like the house-martin; but underneath it is
more or less tinged with buff; and see, as I speak here is one flying
past us. To-day is the 12th of April, about the time the swallow
generally comes to this country. Now you see clearly enough its
colour, and you will notice, too, a very marked difference in the form
of its tail; see how much forked it is, much more so than the tail of
the martin. This forked appearance is produced by the two outer tail
feathers, which are much longer than the rest. Now I hope you will
take notice of these differences, and call things by their right
names, instead of jumbling them all up together under the name of
swallow. I have not spoken of the swift, which does not visit this
country till May; it is the largest of the swallow family, and has the
whole of its body, both above and beneath, of a blackish-brown colour,
except a small patch of dirty white under the chin.
"But, papa," said Jack, "do all these four kinds of swallows come from
Africa? It is very curious to know how they can find their way
backwards and forwards from Africa to this country, and how they come
back to the very spots they visited the year before?" Indeed, it is a
very curious thing; nevertheless experiments have been made to show
that these birds return every year to the same localities.
Many years ago Dr. Jenner procured several swifts from a farmhouse in
Gloucestershire, and marked them by cutting off two claws from the
foot of twelve of them. Next year their hiding places were examined in
the evening, when the birds had gone to roost, when Dr. Jenner found
many of the birds he had marked by cutting off the two claws. For two
or three consecutive years he examined their nesting places, and
always found some of his marked birds. At the end of seven years a cat
brought a swift into the farmer's kitchen, and this was one of those
which Dr. Jenner had marked. Now, Willy, I will ask you a question in
geography. The swallow family visits this country from Africa. What
sea, then, must the birds fly across? "The Mediterranean, papa." Quite
right; and now can you tell me the narrowest part of the Mediterranean
Sea? "The Straits of Gibraltar." Right again; and there the passage is
about five miles wide; and at Gibraltar swallows, swifts, and martins
are often seen as well as several other bird-visitors of this country.
People on board ship have seen swallows a long way from land passing
between Europe and Africa. Sometimes the poor birds are so tired from
their flight that they are obliged to rest on the masts, yards, and
rigging of the vessels. This often happens when the weather is hazy.
Holloa, Jack, what is that splash in the water about six yards off?
Keep quiet, and we shall see what it was. Ah! it is one of my friends,
the water-voles; I see the rogue, with his large yellow teeth and
black eyes. Do you see? He is on the other side of the drain, nibbling
away at something. People generally call him a water-rat, but he is no
relation at all to a rat, nor is he an injurious creature like it.
"Well, but papa," said Willy, "the lads in the village always kill
these water-rats, as they call them, whenever they can. I suppose they
take them for common rats. Do you say they do no harm?" Very little,
water-voles will not eat young chickens and ducklings; nor do they
find their way into stacks and consume the corn; their food is
entirely confined to vegetables, such as the roots and stems of
water-weeds. I feel, however, pretty sure that the water-vole is fond
of beans, and will occasionally do some mischief where a field of
newly-sown beans adjoins the river or stream, in the banks of which
these animals form their holes. I will clap my hands, and off our
little friend with his dusky coat starts, diving under the water,
whence when he comes out he will probably escape into a hole on the
bank. Some day I will show you the skulls of a water-vole and a rat,
and you will see there is a great difference in the form and
arrangement of the teeth, and that the first-named animal is not, as I
said before, related to the rat. The water-vole is really a relative
of that interesting creature you have often read of--I mean the
beaver. "Well, papa," said Jack, "I am tired of sitting here, let us
now go and hunt for peewit's eggs." All right, Jack, and if you find
any you shall each have one for your breakfast in the morning. When
hard-boiled and cold, a peewit's egg is a very delicious thing, though
I think the peewits are such valuable birds, and do so much good, that
I should not like to take many of their eggs. We had better separate
from each other, so as to have a better chance of finding a nest. Soon
we hear a shout from Willy, whose sharp eyes had discovered a nest
with four eggs in it; so off we all scamper to him. See how the old
bird screams and flaps, and how near she comes to us; she knows we
have found her eggs, and wishes to lure us away from the spot; so she
pretends she has been wounded, and tries to make us follow after her.
Now, Jack, run and catch her. Hah! Hah! There they go. I will back the
peewit against the boy. So you have given up the chase, have you?
Well, rest again, and take breath. The peewit, as you saw, makes
scarcely any nest, merely a hollow in the ground, with, perhaps, a few
dried grasses. The peculiar instinct of the peewit in misleading
people as to the whereabouts of its eggs, or young ones, is very
curious.
[Illustration: LAPWING.]
A very observant naturalist says, "As soon as any one appears in the
fields where the nest is, the bird runs quietly and rapidly in a
stooping posture to some distance from it, and then rises with loud
cries and appearance of alarm, as if her nest was immediately below
the spot she rose from. When the young ones are hatched, too, the
place to look for them is, _not_ where the parent birds are screaming
and fluttering about, but at some little distance from it. As soon as
you actually come to the spot where their young are, the old birds
alight on the ground a hundred yards or so from you, watching your
movements. If, however, you pick up one of the young ones, both male
and female immediately throw off all disguise, and come wheeling and
screaming around your head, as if about to fly in your face." Peewits
are certainly bold birds when their young ones are in danger. Mr.
Charles St. John says he has often seen the hooded crows hunting the
fields frequented by the peewits, as regularly as a pointer, flying a
few yards above the ground, and searching for the eggs. The cunning
crow always selects the time when the old birds are away on the shore.
As soon as he is perceived, however, the peewits all combine in
chasing him away. We are told that they will also attack any bird of
prey that ventures near their breeding ground; they are quarrelsome,
too, and the cock birds will fight with each other should they come
into too close quarters. A cock bird one day attacked a wounded male
bird which came near his nest; the pugnacious little fellow ran up to
the intruder, and taking advantage of his weakness, jumped on him, and
pecking at his head, dragged him along the ground as fiercely as a
game cock. This was witnessed by Mr. St. John.[A] "I have often heard
peewits uttering their peculiar noise," said Willy, "quite late at
night. What do they feed on? I should so much like to have a tame
young one." The food of the peewits consists of insects, worms,
snails, slugs, the larvæ of various insects; I am certain they do much
good to the farmer by destroying numerous insect-pests. "Oh, papa,"
exclaimed May, "do come here, what a splendid cluster of bright golden
flowers is growing on the side of the drain." Yes, indeed it is a
beautiful cluster; it is the marsh-marigold, and looks like a gigantic
buttercup; it is sometimes in flower as early as March, and continues
to blossom for three months or more. Country people often call it the
may-flower, as being one of the flowers once used for may-garlands. I
dare say you have sometimes seen wreaths hanging on cottage doors.
Some people have invented what I think very ugly names for this showy
plant, such as horse-blob, water-blob.
"Beneath the shelving bank's retreat
The horseblob swells its golden ball."
I have somewhere read that the young buds are sometimes pickled and
used instead of capers, but I do not think I should like to try them.
"And what," asked May, "are those bright green feathery tufts under
the water? they are very pretty, but they do not bear any flowers."
No, there are no flowers at present, but in about a month's time you
will see plenty. Out of the middle of the feathery tuft there grows a
single tall stem with whorls of four, five, or six pale purple flowers
occurring at intervals. Its English name is water-violet,--not a
fitting name for it, because this plant is not at all related to the
violet tribe, but is one of the primrose family; so we should more
correctly call it water-primrose. Its Latin name is _Hottonia
palustris_; it is called Hottonia in honour of a German botanist,
Professor Hotton, of Leyden. Willy will tell us that the word
_palustris_ means "marshy," in allusion to the places where the water
primrose is found growing. It is a very common plant in the ditches on
the moors here, and I will take care to show you its pretty tall stem
when the flowers appear. While I was talking to May about the water
primrose, Jack espied a sulphur-coloured butterfly, and off he set in
full chase; he did not, however, succeed in capturing it, for his foot
tripped over a molehill and down he tumbled--the beautiful sulphur
butterfly having fled across a wide ditch and escaped. Not far from
where he fell there was a thorn bush and a number of unfortunate moles
gibbeted thereon: some had been killed quite recently, so I took three
or four from the thorn with the intention of taking them home and
examining their stomachs to see what they had eaten. In the meantime,
down we sat on an adjoining bank covered with primroses looking so gay
and smelling so sweet. Willy then wanted to know the history of the
mole; why people generally think it right to kill these animals, and
whether they really are blind. May, of course, could not resist the
charm of collecting primroses for mamma. The two boys cared more for
animals, so I answered their questions about the mole. First of all I
pointed out the amazing strength of its feet, its soft and silky fur,
the form of its body so well adapted for a rapid progress through the
underground passages it forms. Look, I said, at its soft fur, how it
will lie in any direction; each delicate hair is inserted in the skin
perpendicularly to its surface, so that the mole can move rapidly
either backwards or forwards with great ease; the fur, lying as
readily in one direction as another, makes no difficulty to a backward
retreat. If you look closely when I push away the fur with my finger
and breath in the neighbourhood of the eyes, you will see two tiny
black specs; so we can hardly call the mole a blind animal; but as it
lives for the most part underground its power of vision must be small.
The fore feet do the work of the spade and potato-fork combined; its
sense of smell is acute, and this, no doubt, aids the animal in the
search of its food; the mole's sense of hearing is also very good.
"Well, but, papa," exclaimed Jack, "a mole has got no ears, so how can
it hear?" There is no outward appearance of ears, it is true, but
look: I blow away the fur, and now you see clearly a hole which is the
beginning of the passage that leads to the internal ear. The ears of
many animals are very admirably made and fitted for the purpose of
receiving sounds, but you must not suppose that because some
animals--as moles, seals, whales, &c.--have no outward appendages,
they are destitute of ears and the power of hearing. But you must wait
till you are a little older, and then I will explain to you the matter
more fully. The little curiously shaped earbones which are found in
all mammalia are found also in the mole; and I have in my drawer at
home a mole's earbones which I dissected from the animal.
But here comes, I do think, the mole-catcher himself; let us hear what
he has to say. "Good morning, Mr. Mole-catcher; have you been setting
any more traps to-day? I suppose those unfortunate fellows gibbeted on
yonder thorn were caught by you." "Well, yeez, sir," he replied, "I
reckons as they were; I have stopped their play, I guess; but there's
a plaguey lot more on them about, I'm a thinking." "What harm do you
consider that moles do?" I asked. "Harm, maister? why, lor' bless you,
see them hummocks they throw up all about. The farmers dunna like them
ugly heaps, I can assure you." "Probably not; still if they were
spread on the land the soil would be as good as top-dressing. Do you
know what moles eat?" "Well, sir, I believes they eats worms." "Yes,
they feed principally on worms, but they also devour wireworms and
other creatures which prey upon the farmer's crops. I think moles do
more good than harm, and I have examined the stomachs of many, and I
am of opinion that it is a mistake to kill them." "Lor', sir, you be's
a gemman that has seen the inside of a mole's stomach, has you? You
may be a cliver sort of a mon, but moles be varmint." Thus saying, the
old fellow wished us good morning and left us. "Papa," said Willy, "do
not moles make very curious places under the ground in which they
reside at times? I think I have somewhere seen pictures of these
encampments." Yes, they do; but I only know of them from description
and figures; the fortress is generally made under a hillock; it
consists of many galleries connected with each other, and with a
central chamber. You remember a young mole was brought to us last
summer, and that we put it into a box with plenty of loose earth and
some worms. We only kept it a day or two. One morning I found it dead.
I suppose it had not enough to eat. The mole has an insatiable
appetite, and, according to the observations of some naturalists, it
will devour birds. Mr. Bell says that "even the weaker of its own
species under particular circumstances are not exempted from this
promiscuous ferocity; for if two moles be placed together in a box
without a very plentiful supply of food the weaker certainly falls a
prey to the stronger. No thoroughbred bulldog keeps a firmer hold of
the object of its attack than the mole. Mr. Jackson, a very
intelligent mole-catcher, says that, when a boy, his hand was so
severely and firmly laid hold of by one that he was obliged to use his
teeth in order to loosen its hold."
[Illustration: HERON AND YOUNG.]
We now proceeded on our ramble, and I espied about one hundred yards
off a heron on the bank of the Strine. He did not see us at first, but
when we got a little nearer, off he flew, with his long legs stretched
out behind, and his head bent close to his shoulders. He had evidently
been fishing, for we could see the scales of fish on the side of the
bank. Willy asked whether herons built on trees, and Jack wanted to
know how they managed with their great long legs while sitting on
their nests. These birds in the breeding season assemble together and
make their nests on tall firs or oak trees; sometimes they build on
rocks near the sea coast. It is said, too, that they will occasionally
build on the ground. The heron's nest is not unlike that of the rook,
only larger and broader; it is made of sticks and lined with wool and
coarse grass; the female lays four or five eggs of a green colour, her
long legs are tucked under her. Rooks and jackdaws sometimes take up
their quarters near to a heronry, and do you know they steal their
eggs, the rogues, and devour them. Both male and female herons take
great care of their little ones and bring them food. Besides fish the
heron will eat frogs, rats, young ducks, and coots. Eels are great
dainties in the opinion of Mr. Heron; and sometimes an eel, after
being pierced through the head by the sharp and strong bill of the
heron, manages to wrap himself so tight round the bird's neck as to
stop his breathing and cause his death. A good many years ago herons
were protected by the law; they were considered royal game, and their
capture by the peregrine falcon was looked upon as very exciting
sport. As we followed the bank of the stream out flew a couple of
kingfishers with straight and rapid flight; we distinctly heard the
shrill note these birds utter; they flew about two hundred yards and
lighted on a rail near the water's edge. Let us see if we can get a
little nearer to them, I said, and then sit down and see what they
will do. "Papa," said May, "is not the kingfisher a very beautiful
bird, and the most brightly coloured of all British birds?" Yes, it
is; its splendid colours remind one of the gorgeous plumage of
tropical birds, and we have no other British bird with such brilliant
colours. There, did you see that? one of the birds darted off the rail
into the water. I have no doubt he has caught a small fish; and now he
has lighted on the same rail, and with my pocket telescope I can see
him throw his head up and swallow some dainty morsel. It is not at all
an uncommon sight to see a kingfisher hover over the water after the
manner of a kestril-hawk; suddenly it will descend with the greatest
rapidity and again emerge, seldom failing to secure a fish for its
dinner. "Did you ever find a kingfisher's nest, papa?" Willy inquired.
Yes; some years ago I found one in a hole in a bank; there were four
eggs in it, and I had to put my whole arm into the hole before I got
at the nest, which consisted of sand mixed with a great quantity of
very small fish bones. The eggs are very pretty, having a delicate
pink tinge, the shell is thin, and the form of the egg almost round.
"But where," asked Jack, "do the little fish bones of the nest come
from?" I think I have told you that many birds--hawks, eagles, owls,
shrikes, &c.--throw up from their crops the indigestible portions of
their food. It is not uncommon to find these on the ground in the
course of one's rambles. Kingfishers possess this power; they throw up
the undigested fishbones, and curiously enough, as it would appear,
form them into a nest. There is a kingfisher's nest in the British
Museum, which I remember to have seen a few years ago. It has been a
disputed point whether the parent bird throws the fishbones up at
random into the hole where she is going to lay, or whether she forms
them into a nest. The nest in the British Museum was secured at the
expense of great patience and pains by the celebrated ornithologist
and splendid draughtsman, Mr. Gould, whose drawings you may one day
see in the library of the museum at Eyton. This specimen, if I
remember right, was of a flattened form and fully half an inch thick.
It is said that the kingfisher always selects a hole that has an
upward slope, so that, though heavy rains may cause the water of the
river bank to rise into the hole, the eggs will be dry. Some
naturalists have said that kingfishers do not make their own holes,
but use those already made by other animals. Mr. Gould, however, is of
opinion that kingfishers drill their own holes. The tunnels always
slope upwards, as I said; at the further end of the tunnel is an
oven-like chamber where the nest is made. The fish-bone nest is
thought by Mr. Gould to be really a nest, and intended to keep the
eggs off the damp ground. However, there is difference of opinion on
this point, and I reserve my own. We will see if we cannot find a
kingfisher's nest some time this summer. Now, May, what little plant
have you got hold of? "Indeed I don't know, papa, but it is a very
curious little plant; I gathered it at the bottom of that hedge bank."
Ah, I know it well, and a little favorite it is too; it is the
moschatell. You see it is about five inches high, with pale green
flowers and leaves; the flowers are arranged in heads of five each,
namely, four on the side, and one on the top; it has a delicate
musk-like odour, very pleasant and refreshing. Take a few specimens
home and put them in water with your primroses. Mamma, I know, is very
fond of the pretty little moschatell.
"Oh, papa," exclaimed Willy, "look at the bottom of this drain; what
is that strange-looking insect crawling slowly about at the bottom?" I
see; it is a water-scorpion, a very common insect in these drains on
the moors,--indeed, it is common everywhere; let us catch him and take
him home for examination. He is a queer-looking creature, with a small
head and pointed beak; his forearms are something like lobster's
claws; his prevailing colour blackish-brown, like the mud upon which
he crawls; his body is very flat, and ends in two long stick-like
projections; underneath these horny covers of the creature may be seen
his two wings. He is an aquatic murderer; inserting that pointed beak
into the body of some other insect, and holding his victim in his
lobster-like forearms--oh! fatal embrace--he sucks out the juices of
the struggling prey. Kirby and Spence say that some of the tribe of
insects to which the water-scorpion belongs are so savage that they
seem to love destruction for its own sake. A water-scorpion which was
put into a basin of water with several young tadpoles killed them all
without attempting to eat one. The tail projections, I ought to tell
you, are connected with the insect's breathing; they are protruded out
of the water and conduct the air to the spiracles at the end of the
body, about which I must tell you more at another time. The eggs of
the water-scorpion I have frequently found; they are of an oval form,
with seven long hair-like projections at one end. But it is time to go
home, our walk to-day is over; let us look forward to another holiday
and another country ramble.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote A: 'Wild Sports of the Highlands,' p. 136.]
WALK II.
APRIL
We will walk to-day along the side of the canal bank as far as the
aqueduct, then take the Duke's Drive and home by Lubstree Park; we
shall find lots to see and to admire in the course of our ramble. We
notice plenty of those beautiful balls of green jelly (_Ophrydium
versatile_) in the clear water of the canal which, you know, we see
every spring. These balls vary in size from that of a pea to that of
Jack's fist; they are, you see, generally attached to some water-weed,
and consist of myriads of very minute creatures called _infusoria_,
which are imbedded in a mass of whitish jelly; these animals can
detach themselves from the jelly and swim freely about; of course it
requires a microscope to see the tiny green animalcules. If we examine
a single specimen under a high power of the microscope we shall see
its shape, which, when fully extended, is long and cylindrical, having
at one end a mouth surrounded, as is usually the case in the
_infusoria_, by a circle of very fine hairs, or _cilia_, as they are
called, from the Latin word _cilium_ an eyelash; the mouth opens into
a long narrow channel; the creature's throat, which leads to its
stomach; towards the opposite extremity the animal tapers, till it
ends in an extremely long fine hair-like tail which is fixed in the
jelly-like ball; when the little creature prefers to swim freely about
in the water it leaves its tail behind it, unlike, in this respect, to
little Bo-peep's sheep! These balls were once supposed to belong to
the vegetable kingdom, but there is no doubt about their animal
nature.
"Oh! papa, what is that bird with a black head that flew from the side
of the canal to the hedge?" said Willy. "There, don't you see it?"
Yes! I see, my boy, it is the black-headed Bunting or Reed Sparrow,
common on the sides of rivers, canals, and ponds. The specimen you see
on the hedge is a male bird, the females are a little smaller and have
not black heads. See how beautifully contrasted are the deep-black
head and white collar on the neck. In the spring and summer these
birds may be frequently seen, male and female together; in winter they
associate with others of the finch tribe, forming large flocks. The
nest is generally placed on the ground amongst the sedges and coarse
grass; the eggs, which are four or five in number, are laid in May
and, I believe, a second brood sometimes is produced in July. The
nests of the Reed-bunting are difficult to find, at least, I have
seldom been successful. You know how cunning the peewit is in trying
to lead people away from its nest or young ones. Well, some observers
have remarked the same thing in the case of the reed-bunting. One
writer says, "Walking last spring amongst some rushes growing near a
river my attention was arrested by observing a black-headed bunting
shuffling through the rushes and trailing along the ground, as if one
of her legs or wings was broken. I followed her to see the result, and
she, having led me to some considerable distance, took wing, no doubt
much rejoiced on return to find her stratagems had been successful in
preserving her young brood." "Ha! ha!" interrupted Jack, "the
gentleman was nicely deceived then." No, not entirely, because he goes
on to say he afterwards found the nest, which had five young ones in
it. One thing more I ought to tell you; not to confuse the
reed-bunting with the reed-warbler, a very different bird, which very
probably we may notice in to-day's ramble.
[Illustration: WHIRLIGIG BEETLE, MAGNIFIED.]
We now had another look into the canal, and saw numerous little
whirligig beetles, performing their merry-go-rounds on the top of the
water. With what amazing rapidity they skim along, to be sure! Some
diving beneath the surface, some resting on a water leaf. If we catch
one in our net and examine it more closely we shall see that, in form,
it is like a miniature boat. It seems surprising that these little
"whirligigs," "whirl-wigs," or "shiners," as they are called, should
perform their rounds so closely together, without sometimes coming
into collision. If you will look ever so long a time you will not see
one animated boat run foul of another. Just think of a couple of
hundred skaters on a small piece of ice playing at cros-stick. Oh!
would they not be constantly knocking one another over?
[Illustration: HEAD OF WHIRLIGIG BEETLE, MAGNIFIED.
_a._ Mouth. _b, c._ Eye.]
Now look at Mr. Whirligig's eyes, you see each is separated into two
parts by a division; the one is on the upper part of the head and
looks towards the sky, the other is on the under part of the head and
looks into the water. Now let us all keep quite still--the whirligigs
rest. Now let us move--just look, they see our motions and off they
start on their merry-go-rounds. It was with this upper part of the eye
they saw us; should some sly fish, from below the surface of the
water, make a rush at one, the beetle sees the enemy with his under
eye and avoids him. What have you caught now, Jack? fish him out
whatever it is. Oh! a fresh-water mussel, and a very fine specimen
too; there are plenty of these fellows in the canal all the way from
here to Newport. "Are they good to eat, papa?" asked Willy. I never
tried one, but, from having often dissected specimens, I should say
they were as tough as the sole of a boot. I never heard of anyone
eating them. These molluscs carry their eggs, myriads in number,
within their gills. The young, at the time they are ejected, are very
curious little animals with triangular shells, and, oddly enough, they
will fasten upon the fins or tails of fish, on which they will stick
for some time, but how long I do not know.
[Illustration: FRY OF SWAN-MUSSEL, PARASITIC ON A FISH'S FIN.]
[Illustration: FRY OF SWAN-MUSSEL, HIGHLY MAGNIFIED.]
This particular mollusc is known by the name of swan-mussel; the young
fry are sent into the water in April and May. There is another kind of
fresh-water mussel in rivers and streams, called the pearl-mussel,
pearls being occasionally found in them. I had one of these pearls
once given me by a lad, taken from a river in the Isle of Man. I took
it to a jeweller, in Liverpool, who valued it at a guinea. Your uncle
Arthur, to whom I gave it, had it set in gold as a pin "I wish," said
May, who had listened to this part of the story with great attention,
"I wish pearl-mussels would live in the canal, it would be so nice to
get the pearls out of them." Very few mussels are found to contain the
pearls; perhaps you might have to open many hundreds before you found
a single pearl, and I should not like to cause the death of so many
harmless animals for the sake of a single pearl.
[Illustration: FRESH-WATER MUSSEL.]
"Here is another swan-mussel, and, just look, papa," said Jack, "some
other shells are fastened on it." So there are; it is a lot of the
curious and pretty little zebra-mussel. How prettily they are marked
with zig-zag stripes of reddish brown, especially the young specimens.
The name of mussel is better suited to these molluscs than to the
large kinds upon which the "zebras" are often attached, because, like
the salt water mussel you have often seen at New Brighton, they have
the power of spinning, what is called, "a byssus"--here, you see, is
the substance I mean--by which they fasten themselves to shells, or to
stones, roots, and other things.
[Illustration: ZEBRA MUSSEL.--_b._ BYSSUS.]
There flies one of those pretty little birds, the long-tailed
titmouse; it is common enough, certainly, but I never fail to notice
several upon the hedges and poplar trees of the "Duke's drive." There
are several members of the titmouse family found in Great Britain;
let me count them. First we have the great tit, then the little
blue-tit, the long-tailed tit, the cole tit, the marsh, the crested
and the bearded tit. How many does that make? Seven; but the crested
tit is very uncommon, and the bearded tit does not occur in
Shropshire. The other five are quite common and we shall, I dare say,
be able to see all in the course of to-day's walk. The long-tailed
tit, so called on account of the great length of the tail feathers, is
a very active, lively little bird. Indeed, activity and liveliness
belong to all the tit family. See how the little fellow flits from
branch to branch, seldom remaining long on one spot. It is a very
small bird, almost the smallest British bird we have; of course I am
thinking of the tit's body and not taking into account its tail. The
skin is remarkably tender, and thin as tissue paper. Like all the
titmice, the long-tailed tit feeds on insects and their larvæ. I do
not remember to have heard or seen this species tapping the bark of a
tree with its beak, as the great and the blue tit are frequently in
the habit of doing, but most probably they do the same. "What do they
tap for, papa?" asked May. I suppose for the purpose of frightening
the tiny insects, which lurk under the bark, from their hiding places,
when they quickly snap them up with their sharply-pointed bills and
devour them. "Is not this the tit which the people about here call a
bottle tit, and which makes a very beautiful nest?" asked Willy. Yes,
the nest is indeed a very pretty object, and one that you would never,
I think, confuse with the nest of any other bird. The outside is
formed of that white-coloured lichen, so pretty and so common, and
moss, and if you were to put your finger, May, into the inside, which
is full of the softest feathers, you would say it was as nice as your
own muff. The nest is oval, with a hole at the side. I believe that
sometimes two holes exist, but I have never seen two in a nest. The
eggs are very small, and are white with a few lilac spots. As many as
a dozen or more are sometimes found in a nest.
[Illustration: LONG-TAILED TIT.]
The little blue-tit, which has just fled across our path is a very
pretty active bird and common everywhere, in lanes, woods, and
gardens. The blue-tit makes its nest in a wall or a hole in a tree and
lays about nine or ten pretty little spotted eggs. How often I
remember, when I was a boy, to have been bitten rather sharply by this
little bird into whose nest I had placed my hand; I can fancy I hear
the snake-like hissing which the blue-tit utters when some rude hand
invades its home. Its food consists of various kinds of insects and
insect larvæ, which it finds on the bark of trees and in fruit buds. I
think it does much good by destroying numbers of injurious insects,
though gardeners and others destroy this bird, because they say it
harms the fruit buds. Look at that little sprightly fellow, how
restless he is; in what curious attitudes he puts himself on yonder
branch. Hark! you hear him tapping quite distinctly. Besides insects,
blue-tit does not object to make a meal of dead mice or rats. Mr. St.
John tells us that a blue-tomtit once took up his abode in the
drawing-room, having been first attracted there by the house flies
which crawl on the window. "These he was most active in searching for
and catching, inserting his little bill into every corner and crevice
and detecting every fly which had escaped the brush of the housemaid."
He soon became more bold and came down to pick up crumbs which the
children placed for him on the table, looking up into Mr. St. John's
face without the least apparent fear. Boys sometimes call the little
blue-tit Billy Biter, no doubt from personal experience of the
sharpness of Mr. Tit's beak. The great tit which we can see under the
yew tree in our garden, almost any hour of the day, is very common in
the neighbourhood, and I dare say if we look well about us during our
walk we shall see some to-day.
"Oh! papa," exclaimed Willy, "there are some birds on the towing-path
of the canal, about sixty yards off; they seem to be breaking
something with their beaks by knocking it against the ground; just
look." Yes, they are thrushes, and I can tell you what they are doing
and what we shall find when we come up to the spot. We shall see
several broken snail shells (_Helix_), which the thrushes find on the
grassy slopes of the canal bank, and then bring up to the path in
order to get at the animals inside the shells by breaking them against
the hard ground and stones. There! as I told you, you see at least a
dozen broken snail shells. I am sure the thrushes do a great deal of
good by destroying both snails and young slugs, and it is a pity their
labours are not more appreciated than they are. Lads in the village,
and great grown men from the collieries, are continually hunting for
the nests, eggs, or young of thrushes, and many other useful birds,
which they wantonly destroy. Now we get on the Duke's Drive, and
there, on a branch of a poplar tree, I see the great tit. Look at him;
he is the king of the titmice, and he seems to know it. He is a
restless fellow, like tits in general. Look at his black head and
breast, white cheeks and greenish back. Now, by one of his hooked
claws, he hangs suspended from a branch; now again he is clinging by
both legs; see how busy he is, examining the leaves and bark in search
for insects. But Major Tit is a bit of a tyrant sometimes and uses
that sharp short straight bill of his with deadly effect upon some of
his feathered companions, on whose heads he beats repeated blows till
he cracks the skulls and eats the brains! The marsh-tit and the
cole-tit are pretty common in this neighbourhood, we may often notice
them in our walks.
If Willy were to get over the hedge with his net and dip it amongst
the weeds of the pool, I dare say he will succeed in catching a few
water-insects, which he can put in his bottle and bring to me. Of
course the boy was delighted at the idea of dabbling with his net in
the water--boys generally get immense fun from such amusement, and
their clothes frequently not a little dirt. A weedy pond is a grand
place for naturalists, and various are the beautiful and strange forms
of animal life which are found there. Dipping amongst the duckweed and
water-crowfoot is always attended with numerous captures, and Willy's
bottle was soon full of active little creatures. Let us see what it
contains. A large beetle is very conspicuous amongst the contents, now
rushing to the top of the water, now sinking to the bottom, scattering
far and wide the tiny water-fleas, and other little creatures by the
strong and rapid movements of his swimming legs. This is the great
water beetle; we will sit down on this clump of poplar tree by the
side of the road, and take the beetle out and examine him; we must
take care he does not bite our fingers as we hold him, for his jaws
are powerful and sharp. Mr. _Dyticus_, for that is his learned
name--from a Greek word which means "fond of diving"--is one of the
most voracious of water-insects, but let us first examine his form.
You see it is well adapted for the kind of life the beetle leads; look
at that long oar-shaped pair of feet, what a broad fringe of hairs
besets them, how admirably fitted they are for swimming; the
wing-covers are smooth and glossy, without any furrows; by this I know
the specimen to be a male, for the wing-covers of the female are
furrowed. The structure of the forefeet is very curious; you observe
its under portion forms a broad circular shield, covered with a number
of sucking-cups, two or three being much larger than the rest; by
means of these sucking-cups the beetle can attach itself securely to
any object it wishes. The wings are large and strong, and situated, as
in all the beetle tribe, under the horny wing-covers. I will put this
bit of stick near his mouth; there, Jack, you see his strong jaws, and
great use he can make of them I can tell you. If Willy were to put one
of these beetles into his aquarium with his favourite sticklebacks, he
would soon have cause to lament the untimely loss of some of them; woe
betide the unfortunate fish or newt that is once caught by the strong
jaws of this fresh-water tyrant! I have seen Mr. Dyticus rush upon a
full-grown newt, and no twistings and writhings could free the victim
from the fatal embrace. They will attack young gold and silver fish,
and Mr. Frank Buckland has told us of the sad havoc these
water-beetles do to young salmon, as witnessed by himself in a pond in
Ireland. The forefeet you see are strong but small; the beetle uses
them as claws in seizing its prey and conveying it to the mouth. A
young and tender fish, you can easily imagine, Mr. Dyticus would very
readily devour, but he will attack beetles as large and even larger
than himself, seizing them on the under side where the head joins the
body, the only soft place in a beetle. Dr. Burmeister, a naturalist
who paid great attention to insects, tells us that he once kept a
beetle related to the great water-beetle, and saw it devour two frogs
in the space of forty hours. After the eggs are laid, which always
takes place in the water, the larvæ are hatched in about a fortnight.
In time--I do not know how long--these larvæ grow to the size of about
two inches in length, and queer fellows they are, and very voracious
and formidable-looking. Now, Willy, lend me your net, and I dare say
we shall soon secure a specimen. What have we here? how the pond
swarms with water-fleas! Oh! here is a treasure! What can it be? a
long animated thread of glass--we will put it into a bottle by itself
and I will tell you about it afterwards. Splash goes the net again,
but no water-beetle larvæ. Never mind; what does the child's songbook
say--
"If at once you don't succeed,
Try, try, try again."
[Illustration: GREAT WATER-BEETLE, LARVA AND PUPA.]
A capital little verse to remember, so we will try again; and there
now we are rewarded by the capture of a dyticus larva--a creature with
a long body--in some respects reminding one of a shrimp. Oh! look at
his jaws, how wide he opens them! You see that the last segment of the
body is provided with a long pair of bristly tails, by means of which
the creature can suspend itself at the top of the water. I have often
kept specimens of these larvæ in vessels of water and noticed their
predaceous habits; they feed on the larvæ of other water insects, but
are not able to destroy fish, not being furnished with jaws or bodies
nearly so strong as the perfect insect itself possesses. When the
larva wishes to turn into its pupa state, it makes a round hole in the
bank of the pond it inhabits, and there undergoes its change, turning
into a full-grown beetle in about three weeks' time. "Papa," said
Willy, "I have often caught beetles that remind me of the great
water-beetle, but they are not so large; what are they?" They belong
to the same family as the great water-beetles, and are called
_Colymbetes_, _Acilius_, _Cybister_; I do not know that they have any
English names. Come, we have dabbled in this pond long enough for the
present, let us proceed on our walk. "Well, but, papa," said May, "you
have not told us what that long worm-like creature is in the separate
bottle; do let us look at it again. Oh! really it is a curious
creature, why it is as transparent as glass, now it jerks itself
about, now it floats without motion in mid-water. What is it?" "I am
inclined to think," said Willy, "judging from its wriggling, jerking
motions that it must be the larva of some kind of gnat." Right again,
my boy, it _is_ the larva of a gnat, and one known to naturalists by
the name of _Corethra_; you see there are eleven divisions or segments
in the body; the head is of strange form, and near the mouth are two
hooked arms which spring from the middle of the forehead and bend down
in front of the mouth; with these weapons the _Corethra_ larva seizes
its prey and crushes it between two rows of sharp spikes placed under
the mouth; after being bruised and mangled by this apparatus the prey
is ready to be swallowed.
[Illustration: CORETHRA LARVA, MAGNIFIED.]