SOME OTHER BIRDS AT WORK.
Not many of the birds in our yard are quarrelsome. They seem to
respect one another's rights, especially at nesting time. It is not
so much our business to tell bad or unpleasant things about birds, as
to tell what is pleasant and what will make you love them. That is
why we spoke a good word for the shrikes and the hawks and the owls.
If a pair of birds have selected the limb of a tree upon which to
build a cradle, they are not often driven from it by other birds.
It seems to us that when a sparrow has put a piece of twine over a
bough, it is as if she had written her name on it or got a deed for
that particular bough.
If you should wish to tame a pair of birds that are building their
nest where you may watch them, wait until the nest is finished or
until the first egg is laid. Sometimes it is better to wait for the
little birds. A bird will desert an unfinished nest if she suspects
you are watching her. But she dislikes to throw away all of her
labor, and will often lay her eggs and hatch her young while you are
looking at her, rather than begin her nest all over again.
If you take just one egg from the nest of some birds, leaving all of
the others, the parents will never go to it again. There are other
timid, delicate birds who will leave their nest if you just go up
softly and peep into it. The parent birds may not be in sight, and
you may think they will never know. But they have been in hiding and
have seen you steal up, and they will desert the place and the nest.
Only a few birds will do this, however, and these are mostly those
which live far away, in a quiet dell or on a hill where people seldom
go.
We feel quite sure that we can tame almost any home bird at nesting
time. A goldfinch[18] has just built her nest in an apple tree near
our house. We have tamed the mother bird so that we can smooth her
feathers on her neck and breast with our fingers while she is sitting
on the nest. At first we took leaves in our hand and touched her with
them. She did not care for the leaves; they were all about her in the
tree. Gradually we dropped the leaves, until she was not afraid of
our hands.
[18] _Spinus psaltria._
We wished to take a photograph of her, and did so one very warm day.
She sat in the heat, with her wings lifted to let the air through,
and her bill parted as if she were panting. The father bird comes to
feed her on the nest, just as their young are fed, with his bill in
hers. These finches are nurslings, you know, and are fed on prepared
food.
The oriole[19] is a very interesting bird with us. She chooses to
hang her hammock or cradle beneath a festoon of thick leaves on a
swaying bough, or from a drooping twig. Here she prefers a broad
green banana leaf or the great leaf of a fan palm. These leaves are
good shelter from the sunshine.
[19] _Icterus cucullatus nelsoni._
The banana leaf is about five feet long, and doubles on its midrib
like a book cover during the middle of the day. At night and early in
the morning, when it is cool, the leaf opens better, and it is then
that the bird works at her hammock. When the pouch is finished, the
leaf is kept from doubling quite up and is like a sharp roof over the
heads of the young and their mother. The banana leaf is constantly
waving and trembling, even when there is scarcely a bit of breeze.
Another favorite place for an oriole to build her hammock is the
under side of the fan-palm leaf. You will wonder how a bird can weave
a thread in and out of a leaf, when she has no fingers or needles.
We have watched an oriole do this many a time, and this is how it is
done. She takes a thread in her beak and pushes it through the leaf
from one side. Then she flies to the other side and pushes the same
thread back through another opening in the leaf which she has made
with her bill. Thus she weaves a kind of cloth pouch on the under
side of the leaf, flying back and forth from the upper to the under
side. The pouch or hammock is lined, and there the eggs are laid.
You can see the mother's head sticking out from the nest, but if she
knows you are watching, she will draw her head out of sight, so you
will see nothing but the nest.
The thread most used by orioles here is the fibre which ravels from
the edges of the palm leaves. Where such thread is not to be had,
they use twine or string of any sort.
Young orioles meet with many dangers before they leave the hammock.
Sometimes their feet get tangled in the thread or horsehairs of which
the nest is partly made. When the little helpless things attempt to
fly out, they are sometimes caught by the toes, and there they bang.
We have rescued several which were caught this way.
It seems strange that a bird which can build so beautiful and fine
a nest of threads does not know enough to pull the strings off from
her baby's toes when it is caught in this way. They may do this
sometimes, but we have never seen them do anything but fly about in a
helpless way, chattering as orioles do.
Orioles keep no secrets to themselves. They are "tell-tales," and
keep up a constant chat among themselves and at intruders. They are
different in this respect from some other birds, who are as quiet
as mice, never whispering a word as to where their nests are, and
deceiving you, if they can, by limping away as if they were hurt.
Such quiet birds will raise a nest full of birds and be off while you
are wondering where they are.
We do not have chimney swifts in California; but we lived in New
England once, and we recollect very well what a racket they used
to make in the chimneys. Sometimes the nests fell down into the
fireplace, and then what a commotion!
Some swallows choose to build under the eaves, and in caves and
tunnels, and on the under side of bridges, or in crevices of rocks.
We have often wondered that a bird mother can tell her own nest among
so many that look just alike. We have stood and watched the barn
swallows, and felt sure that they count, "One, two, three, here's my
nest." How else do you suppose that a mother can be sure that she
has come to the right nest?
We have seen mother birds cry and call loudly, as if for help, when
the babies have fallen out of the nest. If you pick up one birdling
and place it back in the nest, the mother takes a quick glance at it,
and then goes on calling as before. She will not stop until she sees
every one of them safe back in the cradle. This makes us think that
some birds do count.
[Illustration: Cat-Bird.]
In Tennessee, where we once lived, the cat-birds and brown thrushes
used to build their nests in the porches and vines above the door.
Sometimes we would take the young birds from the nest and keep them
in the parlor for company, taming and feeding them, and allowing them
to flutter about on the floor to amuse strangers. Perhaps we would
have them in the house for an hour.
[Illustration: Brown Thrush.]
When we opened the door to take them home again, the old birds would
be standing close by, like dogs whose masters are in the house. When
they saw us, they would set up such a scolding that we felt quite
ashamed for having kidnapped their children even for so short a time.
They grew used to our ways before the summer was over, and would soon
let us take the young without so much ado.
Small birds, such as the goldfinches and humming-birds, use a good
deal of spider's web in making their cradles. This is very soft, and
when many strands are used together it is very strong. This web is
used to hold the mosses and plants down in place. When you see the
bushes and hedges all covered with web in a damp morning, think of
the little bird house-builders. Watch, in some quiet corner out of
sight of them, and you will see the mother humming-bird or goldfinch
dart up to the glistening webs and examine them in turn, just as a
lady who is out shopping examines the different goods in a store.
Madam Bird flies down to a small web, taking a bite at it with her
slender bill, as if she were feeling of it with her fingers.
Then she flies off to another spider's counter of goods and pecks at
another web. When she has found what suits her, she will take several
bird yards of it home with her.
In the nest of our goldfinch in the apple tree, we see some spider
web binding the grasses together, but the nest itself is lined with
horsehairs. We have one bay horse and one black horse. In this nest
lining there are hairs from the tails of both horses, woven round
with great care in a striped way, that looks as if the bird had
thought about how it would look, the red and the black together.
[Illustration]