two gunners killed so nearly up to their bag limit of _fifty
birds per day_ that in ten days they went away with 400 quail.
The foolish birds obstinately refused to leave the farm which had
been their home and shelter. Day after day the chase with dogs and
men, and the fusillade of shots, went briskly on. As a matter of
fact, that outfit easily could have gone on until every quail on
that farm had fallen.
It is indeed strange that the very bird which practices such fine
and successful strategy in leading an intruder away from its
helpless young, by playing wounded, should fail so seriously when
before the guns. A hunted quail covey should learn to post a
sentry to watch for danger and give the alarm in time for a safe
flight.
But I know one quail species that is a glorious exception. It is
Gambel's quail, of southern Arizona. I saw a good wing shot, Mr.
John M. Phillips, hunt that quail (without dogs) until he was hot
and red, and come in with more wrath than birds. He said, with an
injured air:
"The little beggars won't rise! I don't want to shoot them on the
ground, and the minute they rise above the creosote bushes they
drop right down into them again, and go on running."
It was even so. They simply will not rise and fly away, as Bob
White does, giving the sportsmen a chance to kill them, but when
forced to fly up clear of the bushes they at once drop back again.
[Footnote: A very few quail-killers of the East who oppose long
close seasons contend that quail coveys "breed better" when they
are shot to pieces every year and "scattered," but we observed
that the quail of the Sonoran Desert managed to survive and breed
and perpetuate themselves numerously without the benevolent
cooperation of the "pump-gun" and the automatic shotgun.] While
the study of avian mentality is a difficult undertaking, this is
no excuse for the fact that up to this date (1922) that field of
endeavor has been only scratched on its surface. The birds of the
world are by no means so destitute of ideas and inventions that
they merit almost universal neglect. Because of the suggestions
they contain we will point out a few prominent mental traits in
birds, chosen at random.
At the same time, let us all beware of seeing too much, and chary
of recording scientific hallucinations. It is better to see
nothing than to see many things that are not true! In ten octavo
pages that particular rock can split wide open the best reputation
ever grown.
Bird Architecture. The wisdom of birds in the selection of nesting
sites, the designing of the best nest for their respective wants,
and finally the construction of them, indicate instinct, reasoning
power and mechanical skill of a high order. The range from the
wonderful woven homes of the weaver bird and the Baltimore oriole
down to the bare and nestless incubating spot of the penguin is so
great that nothing less than a volume can furnish space in which
to set it forth. But let us at least take a brief glance at a wide
range of home-building activities by birds.
The orioles, caciques and weavers weave wonderful homes of fibrous
material, often in populous communities.
The bower birds erect remarkable bowers, as playhouses.
The brush turkey scratches together a huge mound of sticks and
leaves, four feet by ten or twelve wide at the base.
The vireo and many others turn out beautiful cup-like nests.
The hummingbird builds with the solidity and tenacity of the wasp.
The swallow is a wonderful modeler with mud.
The guacharo builds a solid nest like a cheese with a concave top.
The auklet, the puffin and the kingfishers burrow into the
friendly and solid earth. The eider duck plucks from its own breast
the softest, of feather linings for its nest.
[Illustration with caption: REMARKABLE
VILLAGE NESTS OF THE SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD (Copied from "The Fauna
of South Africa Birds," by Arthur C. Stark)]
The grebe thoughtfully keeps its nest above high-water mark by
building on a floating island.
The murre and the guillemot do their best to escape their enemies
of the land by building high upon inaccessible rock ledges.
The woodpecker trusts no living species save his own, and drills
high up into a hollow tree-trunk for his home.
The cactus wren and crissal thrasher build in the geographical
centres of tree choyas, so protected by 500,000 spines that no
hawk or owl can reach them.
This catalogue could be extended to a great length; but why pile
evidence upon evidence!
It cannot be correct to assume that the nesting activities of
birds are based upon instinct alone. That theory would be
untenable. New conditions call for independent thought, and
originality of treatment. If the ancestral plans and
specifications could not be varied, then every bird would have to
build a nest just "such as mother used to make," or have no brood.
All bird students know full well how easily the robin, the wren,
the hawk and the owl change locations and materials to meet new
and strange conditions. A robin has been known to build on the
running-board of a switch-engine in a freight yard, and another
robin built on the frame of the iron gate of an elephant yard. A
wren will build in a tin can, a piece of drain tile, a lantern, a
bird house or a coat pocket, just as blithely as its grandmother
built in a grape arbor over a kitchen door. All this is the hall
mark of New Thought.
Whenever children go afield in bird country, they are constantly
on the alert for fresh discoveries and surprises in bird
architecture. Interest in the nest-building ingenuity and
mechanical skill of birds is perpetual. The variety is almost
endless. Dull indeed is the mind to which a cunningly contrived
nest does not appeal. Tell the boys that it is _all right_ to
collect _abandoned_ nests, but the taking of eggs and
occupied nests is unlawful and wicked.
The Play-House of the Bower Bird. Years ago we read of the
wonderful playhouses constructed by the bower birds of Australia
and New Guinea, but nothing ever brought home to us this
remarkable manifestation of bird thought so closely as did the
sight of our own satin bower bird busily at work on his own bower.
He was quartered in the great indoor flying cage of our largest
bird house, and supplied with hard grass stems of the right sort
for bower-making.
With those materials, scattered over the sand floor, the bird
built his bower by taking each stem in his beak, holding it very
firmly and then with a strong sidewise and downward thrust
slicking it upright in the sand, to stand and to point "just
exactly so." The finished bower was a Gothic tunnel with walls of
grass stems, about eighteen inches long and a foot high. In making
it the male bird wrought as busily as a child building a playhouse
of blocks. Our bird would pick up pieces of blue yarn that had
been placed in his cage to test his color sense, but never red,--
which color seemed to displease him. As the bird worked quietly
yet diligently, one could not help longing to know what thoughts
were at work in that busy little brain.
The most elaborate of all the bower bird play-houses is that
constructed by the gardener bower bird, which is thus described by
Pycraft in his "History of Birds":
"This species builds at the foot of a small tree a kind of hut or
cabin, some two feet in height, roofed with orchid stems that
slope to the ground, regularly radiating from the central support,
which is covered with a conical mass of moss sheltering a gallery
round it. One side of this hut is left open, and in front of it is
arranged a bed of verdant moss, bedecked with blossoms and berries
of the brightest color. As the ornaments wither they are removed
to a heap behind the hut and replaced by others that are fresh.
The hut is circular and some three feet in diameter, and the mossy
lawn in front of it is nearly twice that expanse. Each hut and garden
is believed to be the work of a single pair of birds. The use of the
hut, it appears, is solely to serve the purpose of a playing-ground,
or as a place wherein to pay court to the female, since it, like the
bowers built by its near relatives, are built long before the nest
is begun, this, by the way, being placed in a tree."
[Illustration with caption: SPOTTED BOWER-BIRD, AT WORK ON ITS
UNFINISHED BOWER Foreground garnished with the bird's playthings.
(From A. S. Le Souef, Sydney. Photo by F. C. Morse)]
Most Birds Fear Man. With the exception of those that have been
reared in captivity, nearly all species of wild birds, either in
captivity or out of it, fear the touch of man, and shrink from
him. The birds of the lawn, the orchard and the farm are always
suspicious, always on the defensive. But of course there are
exceptions. A naturalist like J. Alden Loring can by patient
effort win the confidence of a chickadee, or a phoebe bird, and
bring it literally to his finger. These exceptions, however, are
rare, but they show conclusively that wild birds can be educated
into new ideas.
The shrinking of wild birds from the hand of man is almost as
pronounced in captivity as it is in the wilderness, and this fact
renders psychological experiments with birds extremely difficult.
It is really strange that the parrots and cockatoos all should
take kindly to man, trust him and even like him, while nearly all
other birds persistently fly, or run, or swim or dive away from
him. A bird keeper may keep for twenty years, feeding daily, but
his hawks, owls and eagles, the perchers, waders, swimmers and
upland game birds all fly from him in nervous fear whenever he
attempts to handle them. The exceptions to this rule, out of the
20,000 species of the birds of the world, are few.
Wild Birds that Voluntarily Associate with Man. The species that
will do so are not numerous, and I will confine myself to some of
those that I have seen.
The Indian adjutant, the mynah, hoopoe, vulture, robin, phoebe
bird, bluebird, swallow, barn owl, flicker, oriole, jay, magpie,
crow, purple grackle, starling, stork, wood pigeon, Canada goose,
mallard, pintail, bob white and a few other species have accepted
man at his face value and endeavored to establish with him a
modus vivendi. The mallard and the graylag goose are the ancestors
of our domestic ducks and geese. The jungle fowls have given us
the domestic chickens. The wild turkey, the pheasants, the guinea
fowl, the ostrich, the emu and the peacock we possess in
domestication unchanged.
Caged Wild Birds Quickly Appreciate Sanctuary. Mr. Crandall
reports that in the Zoological Park there have been many instances
of the voluntary return to their cages of wild birds that have
escaped from them. The following instances are cited, out of many
that are remembered:
A wild hermit thrush, only two weeks in captivity, escaped from an
outdoor cage. But he refused to leave the vicinity of his new
home, and permanent food supply. He lingered around for two or
three days, and finally a wise keeper opened the cage door when he
was near it, and at once he went in.
A magpie escaped from an outside cage, and for a week he lingered
around it unwilling to leave its vicinity. At last the other birds
of the cage were removed, the door was left open, and the magpie
at once went back home.
Bird Memory and Talk. Birds have few ways and means by which to
reveal their powers of memory. The best exhibits are made by the
talking parrots and cockatoos. The feats of some of these birds,
both in memory and expression, are really wonderful. The startling
aptness with which some parrots apply the language they possess
often is quite uncanny. Concerning "sound mimicry" and the
efforts of memory on which they are based, Mr. Lee S. Crandall,
Curator of Birds, has contributed the following statement of his
observations:
"Many birds, including practically all members of the parrot
tribe, many of the crows and jays, as well as mynas and starlings,
learn to repeat sounds, words and sentences. Ability varies with
both species and individuals. Certain species show greater
aptitude as a whole than other species, while there is a great
difference between individuals of the same species. "Gray
parrots are generally considered the most intelligent of their
tribe, and are especially apt at imitating sounds, such as running
water, whistles, etc. I have one at home which always answers a
knock with 'Come in.' Often he furnishes the knock himself by
pounding the perch with his bill, following it with 'Come in.'
Amazon parrots are especially good at tunes, some specimens being
able to whistle complicated airs and sometimes sing several verses
in a high, clear voice. Both grays and Amazons often talk with
great fluency, vocabularies having been reported of as many as one
hundred words. Often there seems to be intelligent association of
certain acts or conditions with corresponding sentences, these
sometimes occurring with singular patness.
"Hill mynahs, of the genus _Eulabes,_ often talk as well as
parrots. The common introduced European starling often says a few
words quite clearly. I once knew a long-tailed glossy starling
(_Lamprotornis caudatus_) which shared an aviary with an
accomplished albino jackdaw. The starling had acquired much of the
jackdaw's repertoire, and the 'conversations' carried on between
the two birds were most amusing."
A raven in the Zoological Park says "Arthur," "Shut up," "All out"
and "Now look what's here" as perfectly as any parrot.
Listed in the order of their ability to learn and remember talk,
the important talking birds are as follows: African gray parrot,
yellow-headed Amazon, other Amazons, the hill mynahs, the
cockatoos, the macaws, and the various others previously
mentioned.
It is safe to assert that all migratory birds display excellent
powers of memory, chiefly by returning to their favorite haunts
after long absences.
Recognition of Persons. Mr. Crandall says there can be no doubt of
the ability of most birds to recognize individual persons. This is
seen in the smallest species as well as in the largest. He once
saw a bullfinch in the last stages of pneumonia and almost
comatose, show an instant reaction to the presence of an owner it
had not seen in weeks. Many birds form dislikes for individual
persons. This is especially noticeable in the parrot tribe. A
large male South American condor was friendly enough with two of
his keepers but would instantly attack any other keeper or other
person entering his enclosure, whether wearing the uniform or not.
With his two approved keepers he was gentleness itself.
Parasitic Nesting Habits. In the bird world there are a few
species whose members are determined to get something for nothing,
and to avoid all labor in the rearing of their offspring. This
bad habit is known of the Old World cuckoos, the American cow-
birds, the South American rice grackle (_Cassidix_), and
suspected in the pin-tail whydah (_Vidua serena_). It seems
to reach its highest point in the cuckoos. It is believed that
individuals lay their eggs only in the nests of species whose eggs
resemble their own. Apparently much skill and intelligence is
required for introducing parasitic eggs at the most favorable
moment. This is equally true of other parasites.
Curator Crandall has taken several eggs and young of the rice
birds from nests of two species of giant caciques in Costa Rica,
but never saw an adult _Cassidix._ It is considered a very
rare species, but probably is more sly than scarce. Young cuckoos
eject unwelcome nestlings shortly after hatching.
Daily contact with a large and varied collection of birds great
and small, gathered from every section of the habitable regions of
the earth, naturally produces in time a long series of interesting
cases of intelligence and behavior. Out of our total occurrences
and observations I will offer two that reveal original thought.
Good Sense of the Wedge-Tailed Eagle. In discussing bird
intelligence with Mr. Herbert D. Atkin, keeper of our Eagles
Aviary and the cranes and water birds in the Flying Cage, he
called to my attention two species of birds which had very much
impressed him. Afterward he showed me all that he described.
Keeper Atkin regards the wedge-tailed eagle, of Australia, as the
wisest species with which he has to deal. In the first place, all
four of the birds in that flock recognize the fact that he is a
good friend, not an enemy, and each day they receive him in their
midst with cheerful confidence and friendship. In the fall when
the time comes to catch them, crate them and wheel them half a
mile to their winter quarters in the Ostrich House, they do not
become frightened, nor fight against being handled, and submit
with commendable sense and appreciation.
The one thing on which the wedge-tailed eagle really insists when
in his summer quarters, is his daily spray bath from a hose. When
his keeper goes in to give the daily morning wash to the cage, the
eagles perch close above his head and screech and scream until the
spray is turned upon them. Then they spread their wings, to get it
thoroughly, and come out thoroughly soaked. When the spray is
merely turned upon their log instead of upon the birds as they
sit higher up, they fly down and get into the current wherever it
may be.
Memory of the Cereopsis Goose. Keeper Atkin also showed me an
instance of the wisdom of the cereopsis geese, from Van Diemens
Land, South Australia. During the winter those birds are kept in
the Wild-Fowl Pond; but in summer they are quartered in a secluded
yard of the Crane's Paddock, nearly half a mile away. Twice a year
these birds go under their own steam between those two enclosures.
When turned out of the Cranes' Paddock last November they at once
set out and walked very briskly southward up the Bird's Valley,
past the Zebra House. On reaching the Service Road, a quarter of a
mile away, they turned to the left and kept on to the Wolf Dens.
There they turned to the right and kept on two hundred yards until
they reached the walk coming down from the Reptile House. There
they turned to the left, crossed the bridge, stopped at the gate
to the Wild-Fowl Pond enclosure, and when the gate was opened they
entered and declared themselves "at home."
Mr. Atkin says that in spring these birds show just as much
interest in going back to their summer home. Falconry. We cannot
do otherwise than regard the ancient sport of falconry as a high
tribute to the mental powers of the genus _Falco._ The
hunting falcons were educated into the sport of hawking, just as a
boy is trained by his big brother to shoot quail on the wing. The
birds were furnished with hoods and jesses, and other garnitures.
They were carried on the hand of the huntsman, and launched at
unlucky herons and bitterns as an _intelligent_ living force.
The hunting falcon entered into the sport like a true sportsman,
and he played the game according to the rules. The sport was
cruel, but it was politely exciting, and it certainly was a fine
exhibition of bird intelligence. Part of that intelligence was
instinctive, but the most of it was acquired, by educational
methods.
Outstanding Traits in a Few Groups of Birds. In creatures as much
lacking in visible expression as most birds are, it is difficult
to detect the emotions and temperaments that prevail in the
various groups. Only a few can be cited with certain confidence.
Vanity Displays in Birds. The males of a few species of birds have
been specially equipped by nature for the display of their natural
vanity. Anyone who has seen a Zoological Park peacock working
overtime on a Sunday afternoon in summer when the crowds of
visitors are greatest, solely to display the ocellated splendor of
his tail plumage, surely must conclude that the bird is well aware
of the glories of his tail, and also that he positively enjoys
showing off to admiring audiences.
These displays are not casual affairs in the ordinary course of
the day's doings. It is a common thing for one of our birds to
choose a particularly conspicuous spot, preferably on an elevated
terrace, from which his display will carry farthest to the eyes of
the crowd. Even if the bird were controlled by the will of a
trainer for the purpose of vanity display, the exhibition could
not possibly be more perfect. Like a good speaker on a rostrum,
the bird faces first in one direction and then in another, and
occasionally with a slow and stately movement it completely
revolves on its axis for the benefit of those in the rear. "Vain
as a peacock" is by no means an unjustifiable comparison.
Plumage displays are indulged in by turkeys, the blue bird of
paradise, the greater and lesser birds of paradise, the sage
grouse and pinnated grouse, ruffed grouse, golden pheasant and
argus pheasant.
On the whole, we may fairly set down vanity as one of the well
defined emotions in certain birds, and probably possessed by the
males in many species which have not been provided by nature with
the means to display it conspicuously.
Materials for Study. In seeking means by which to study the mental
and temperamental traits of wild birds and mammals, the definite
and clearly cut manifestations are so few in kind that we are glad
to seize upon everything available. Of the visible evidences,
pugnacity and the fighting habit are valuable materials, because
they are visible. Much can be learned from the fighting weakness
or strength of animals and men.
In our great collections of birds drawn from all the land areas of
the globe, our bird men see much fighting. Mr. Crandall has
prepared for me in a condensed form an illuminating collection of
facts regarding
PUGNACITY IN CAPTIVE BIRDS
1. Most species do more or less competitive fighting for nesting
sites or mates, especially:
Gallinaceous birds,--many of which fight furiously for mates;
The Ruff, or Fighting Snipe (_Machetes pugnax_),--very
pugnacious for mates;
House Sparrows (_Passer domesticus_) fight for nesting places
and mates; and
Some Waterfowl, especially swans and geese, fight for nesting
places.
2. Most species which do not depend chiefly upon concealment,
fight fiercely in defense of nests or young. Typical examples are:
Geese;
Swans;
The larger Flycatchers;
Birds of prey, especially the more powerful ones, such as Bald
Eagles, Duck Hawks and Horned Owls.
3. Some species fight in competition for food. Conspicuous
examples are:
The fiercer hawks;
Some carrion eaters, as the King Vulture, Black, Sharp-Shinned,
Cooper, Gos and Duck Hawks, which fight in the air over prey.
4. Certain birds show pugnacity in connection with the robber
instinct, as:
Bald Eagle, which robs the Osprey;
Skua and Jaeger, which rob gulls.
5. Some species show general pugnacity. Species to be cited are:
Cassowaries, Emus and Ostriches, all of which are more or less
dangerous;
Saras Cranes, which strike wickedly and without warning;
Some Herons, especially if confined, and
Birds of Paradise, which are unreasonably quarrelsome.
6. In non-social birds, each male will fight for his own breeding
and feeding territory. The struggle for territory is a wide one,
and it is now attracting the attention of bird psychologists.
Birds are no more angelic than human beings are. They have their
faults and their mean traits, just as we have; but their
repertoire is not so great as ours. In every species that we have
seen tried out in captivity, the baser passions are present. This
is equally true of mammals. In _confinement_, in every herd
and in every flock from elephants down to doves, the strong bully
and oppress the weak, and drive them to the wall.
_The most philosophic and companionable birds_ are the
parrots, parakeets, macaws and cockatoos.
_The birds that most quickly recognize protection_
sanctuaries and accept them, are the geese, ducks and swans.
_The game birds most nervous and foolish, and difficult to
maintain in captivity,_ are the grouse, ptarmigan and quail.
_The bird utterly destitute of sense_ in captivity is the
loon.
_The birds that are most domineering_ in captivity are the
cranes.
_The birds that are most treacherous_ in captivity are the
darters (_Anhinga_).
_The birds that go easiest and farthest in training_ are the
parrots, macaws and cockatoos.
_The most beautiful bird species of the world_ are about
fifty in number; and only a few of them are found among the birds
of paradise.
The minds of wild birds are quite as varied and diversified as are
the forms and habits of the different orders and genera. XVI
THE WISDOM OF THE SERPENT