[Illustration]
Upupa Epops, LINNÆUS; La Huppe, BUFFON; Der gemeine Wiedehopf,
BECHSTEIN.
The length of this bird is twelve inches, of which the tail measures
four, and the bill, which is black, two and a half.
The iris is blackish brown. The feet are black and very short. There is
a tuft on the head like a fan, formed of a double row of feathers, all
of them tipped with black.
HABITATION.--In its wild state, the hoopoe remains, during summer, in
woods near meadows, and pasture land. In the month of August, after
hay-harvest, it goes in flocks into the plains; it departs in
September, and does not return till the end of the following April.
It is more frequently seen on the ground than perching[24].
In the house, it is not kept in a cage, but let range at will; it is
very chilly, at least it is so fond of warmth that it is constantly
on the stove, and would rather let its beak be dried up than come
away from it.
FOOD.--When wild, it may be continually seen in fields, searching for
its favourite insects among cow dung and the excrements of other
animals. Some people put it into their granaries to clear them of
weevils and spiders; this has succeeded very well, but to say that it
also eats mice, is certainly an error.
In the house, it may be easily reared on meat, and white bread soaked
in milk, to which meal worms must be added from time to time.
BREEDING.--The hoopoe lays from two to four eggs; its nest, placed in
the hole of some tree, is a mixture of cow dung and small roots. The
young are easily reared on the flesh of young pigeons; but they
cannot pick it up well, because their tongue, about the size of half
a bean, and heart-shaped, is too short to turn the food into the
throat. They are obliged to throw their food in the air, holding the
beak open to receive it.
MODE OF TAKING.--In the month of August, when a field has been
observed which the bird frequents most, a small well-limed rod of
about eight inches in length must be placed on a mole-hill, having
two or three meal worms fastened to it by means of a thread about
three inches long. As soon as the hoopoe sees the worms it darts upon
them, and thus makes the lime twig fall upon itself, which
embarrasses it. But these birds, whether taken young or old, can very
rarely be preserved.
ATTRACTIVE QUALITIES.--Independently of its beauty, its droll actions
are very amusing. For instance, it makes a continual motion with its
head, tapping the floor with its beak, so that it seems as if it
walks with a stick, at the same time shaking its crest, wings, and
tail[25]. I have had several of them in my house, and have always
been diverted by their singular grimaces. When any one looks at them
steadily, they immediately begin their droll tricks.
The following is an extract from a letter written by M. von Schauroth
on the hoopoe, which I think it is well to insert here:
"With great care and attention, I was able last summer to rear two
young hoopoes, taken from a nest which was placed at the top of an
oak tree. These little birds followed me everywhere, and when they
heard me at a distance showed their joy by a particular chirping,
jumped into the air, or as soon as I was seated climbed on my
clothes, particularly when giving them their food from a pan of milk,
the cream of which they swallowed greedily; they climbed higher and
higher, till at last they perched on my shoulders, and sometimes on
my head, caressing me very affectionately: notwithstanding this, I
had only to speak a word to rid myself of their company, they would
then immediately retire to the stove. Generally they would observe my
eyes to discover what my temper might be, that they might act
accordingly. I fed them like the nightingales, or with the universal
paste, to which I sometimes added insects; they would never touch
earth-worms, but were very fond of beetles and May-bugs, these they
first killed, and then beat them with their beak into a kind of
oblong ball; when this was done, they threw it into the air, that
they might catch it and swallow it lengthways; if it fell across the
throat they were obliged to begin again. Instead of bathing, they
roll in the sand. I took them one day into a neighbouring field, that
they might catch insects for themselves, and had then an opportunity
of remarking their innate fear of birds of prey, and their instinct
under it. As soon as they perceived a raven, or even a pigeon, they
were on their bellies in the twinkling of an eye, their wings
stretched out by the side of their head, so that the large quill
feathers touched: they were thus surrounded by a sort of crown,
formed by the feathers of the tail and wings, the head leaning on the
back, with the beak pointing upwards; in this curious posture they
might be taken for an old rag. As soon as the bird which frightened
them was gone they jumped up immediately, uttering cries of joy. They
were very fond of lying in the sun; they showed their content by
repeating in a quivering tone, "_vec, vec, vec_;" when angry their
notes are harsh, and the male, which is known by its colour being
redder, cries "_hoop, hoop_." The female had the trick of dragging
its food about the room, by this means it was covered with small
feathers and other rubbish, which by degrees formed into an
indigestible ball in its stomach, about the size of a nut, of which
it died. The male lived through the winter; but not quitting the
heated stove, its beak became so dry that the two parts separated,
and remained more than an inch apart; thus it died miserably."
"I once saw," says Buffon, "one of these birds which had been taken
in a net, and being then old, or at least adult, must have had
natural habits: its attachment to the person who took care of it was
very strong, and even exclusive. It appeared to be happy only when
alone with her; if strangers came unexpectedly it raised its crest
with surprise and fear, and hid itself on the top of a bed which was
in the room. Sometimes it was bold enough to come from its asylum,
but it fled directly to its beloved mistress, and seemed to see no
one but her. It had two very different tones; one soft, as if from
within, and seemed the very seat of sentiment, which it addressed to
its mistress; the other sharp, and more piercing, which expressed
anger and fear. It was never kept in a cage by day or night, and was
permitted to range the house at pleasure: however, though the windows
were often open, it never showed the least desire to escape, its wish
for liberty not being so strong as its attachment.
"This pretty bird accidentally died of hunger. Its mistress had kept
it for four months, feeding it only on bread and cheese."