English names for this bird; but as it is really neither a hawk nor an
owl, though much mingled in its manners of both, I keep the usual one,
Night-jar, euphonious for Night-Churr, from its continuous note like
the sound of a spinning wheel. The idea of its sucking goats, or any
other milky creature, has long been set at rest; and science,
intolerant of legends in which there is any use or beauty, cannot be
allowed to ratify in its dog or pig-Latin those which are eternally
vulgar and profitless. I had first thought of calling it Hirundo
Nocturna; but this would be too broad massing; for although the
creature is more swallow than owl, living wholly on insects, it must be
properly held as a distinct species from both. Owls cannot gape like
constrictors; nor have swallows whiskers or beards, or combs to keep
both in order with, on their middle toes. This bird's cat-like bristles
at the base of the beak connect it with the bearded Toucans, and so
also the toothed mandibles of the American cave-dwelling variety. I
shall not want the word Noctua for the owls themselves, and it is a
pretty and simple one for this tribe, enabling the local epithet
'European,' and other necessary ones, of varieties, to be retained for
the second or specific term. Nacht-schade, Night-_loss_, the popular
German name, perhaps really still refers to this supposed nocturnal
thieving; or may have fallen euphonious from Nacht-schwalbe, which in
some places abides. 'Crapaud-volant' is ugly, but descriptive, the
brown speckling of the bird being indeed toadlike, though wonderful and
beautiful. Bewick has put his utmost skill into it; and the cut, with
the Bittern and White Owl, may perhaps stand otherwise unrivaled by any
of his hand.
Gould's drawing of the bird on its ground nest, or ground contentedly
taken for nest, among heath and scarlet-topped lichen, is among the
most beautiful in his book; and there are four quite exquisite drawings
by Mr. Ford, of African varieties, in Dr. Smith's zoology of South
Africa. The one called by the doctor Europæus seems a grayer and more
graceful bird than ours. Natalensis wears a most wonderful dark
oak-leaf pattern of cloak. Rufigena, I suppose, blushes herself
separate from Ruficollis of Gould? but these foreign varieties seem
countless. I shall never have time to examine them, but thought it not
well to end the titular list of the swallows without notice of the
position of this great tribe.
VIII.
148. MERULA FONTIUM. TORRENT-OUZEL.
Sturnus Cinclus. L.
Merle d'Eau. F.
Bach-Amsel. T.
Merla Aquaiola. I.
Cinclus Aquaticus. G. and Y.
Water Ouzel. B.
Turdus Cinclus, Pennant; Common Dipper, Y.; Didapper, Doucker, Water
Crow, Water Piot, B.; Cincle Plongeur, Temminck; Wasser Trostel, Swiss.
The scientific full arrangement, according to Yarrell, is thus:--
1. Order--INSESSORES.
2. Tribe--Dentirostres.
3. Genus--Merulidæ.
4. Species--Cinclus.
5. Individual--Aquaticus.
You will please observe that some of the scientific people call it a
blackbird--some a thrush--some a starling--and the rest a Cincle,
whatever that may be. It remains for them now only to show how the
Cincle has been developed out of the Winkle, and the Winkle out of the
Quangle-Wangle. You will note also that the Yorkshire and Durham mind
is balanced between the two views of its being a crow or a magpie. I am
content myself to be in harmony with France and Italy, in my 'Merula,'
and with Germany in my _Torrent_-Ouzel. Their 'bach' (as in Staubbach,
Giesbach, Reichenbach) being essentially a mountain waterfall; and
their 'amsel,' as our Damsel, merely the Teutonic form of the
Demoiselle or Domicilla--'House-Ouzel,' as it were, (said of a nice
girl)--Domicilla again being, I think, merely the transposition of
Ancilla Domini,--Behold, the handmaid of the Lord: (see frontispiece to
third volume of 'Modern Painters') which, if young ladies in general
were to embroider on their girdles--though their dresses, fitting at
present 'as close as a glove' (see description of modern American ideal
in 'A Fair Barbarian') do not usually require girdles either for their
keys or their manners,--it would probably be thought irreverent by
modern clergymen; but if the demoiselle were none the better for it,
she _could_ certainly be none the worse.
149. ALLEGRETTA NYMPHÆA. LILY-OUZEL.
Var. 1 (IX.A.)
ALLEGRETTA NYMPHÆA, MACULATA. SPOTTED ALLEGRET.
Rallus Porzana. L.
Poule d'Eau Maronette. F.
Winkernell. T.
Porzana. I.
Zapornia Porzana. G.
Crex Porzana. Y.
Ortygometra Porzana. Steph.
Gallinula Maculata et Punctata. Brehmen.
Spotted Crake. B.
The 'Winkernell' is I believe provincial (Alsace); so, Girardina,
Milanese, and Girardine, Picard.--I can make nothing whatever of any of
these names;--Porzana, Bolognese and Venetian, might perhaps mean
Piggy-bird; and Ortygometra Porzana would then mean, in serious
English, the 'Quail-sized Pig-bird.' I am sorry not to be able to do
better as Interpreter for my scientific friends.
IX.B.
ALLEGRETTA NYMPHÆA, STELLARIS. STARRY ALLEGRET.
Not separated by Linnæus, or Buffon, or Bewick, nor by popular German
or French names, from the Marouette.
Crex Baillonii, Baillon's Crake. Y.
Porzana Pygmæa. G.
Gallinula Stellaris. Temminck.
IX.C.
ALLEGRETTA NYMPHÆA, MINUTA. TINY ALLEGRET.
Porzana Minuta, Olivaceous Crake. G.
Crex Pusilla, Little Crake. Y.
Poule d'Eau Poussin. Temminck.
Little Gallinule. B.
It never occurred to me, when I was writing of classical landscape,
that 'Poussin' to a French ear conveyed the idea of 'chicken,' or of
the young of birds in general. (Is it from 'pousser,' as if they were a
kind of budding of bird?) Everybody seems to agree in feeling that this
is a kind of wren among the dabchicks. Bewick's name, 'Little
Gallinule,' meaning of course, if he knew it, the twice-over little
Gallina;--and here again the question occurs to me about its voice. Is
it a twice-over little crow, called a 'creak,' or anything like the
Rail's more provokingly continuous objurgation?--compare notes below on
Rallus Aquaticus. I find, with some alarm, in Buffon, that one with a
longer tail, the Cau-rale or Tail-rail of Cayenne, is there called
'Little Peacock of the Roses;' but its cry is represented by the liquid
syllables 'Piolo,' while the black-spotted one of the Society
Islands--Magellan's 'Water-quail'--says 'Poo-a-nee,' and the Bidi-bidi
of Jamaica says 'Bidi-bidi.'
X.
150. TREPIDA STAGNARUM. LITTLE GREBE.
Colymbus Minor. L.
Le Castagneux. F.
Deutchel. T.
Tropazarola? I.
Podiceps Minor. C.
Little Grebe. B.
The Yorkshire accents and changes of its name are given by Bewick:
Dobchick--small doucker; Dipper, or Didapper.
In Barbadoes--Two-penny chick.
It seems to me curious that without knowing Buffon's name, which I have
only looked up now, 'the Chestnutty,' given from the brown on its back,
I should have, myself, always called its foot 'chestnutty,' from the
shape of its lobes.
My 'Trepida' will do well enough, I think, for a Latin rendering of
Grebe, and will include the whole group of them,--'stagnarum' remaining
for this species only, and the others being called Tippeted Trepids, or
Muffed Trepids, Eared Trepids or Majestic Trepids, as I find out what
they wear, and how they behave. Grèbe is used by Buffon only for the
larger ones, and Castagneux for the smaller, which is absurd enough,
unless the smaller are also the browner.
But I find in Buffon some interesting particulars not given in my
text--namely, that the whole group differs from common chicks, not only
in the lobed feet, but in these being set so far back, (becoming almost
a fish's tail indeed, rather than a bird's legs,) that they are quite
useless for walking, and could support the bird only on land if it
stood upright: but that it "dashes through the waves" (i.e., the larger
varieties through sea waves), and "runs on the surface"? (i.e., the
smaller varieties on pools,) with surprising rapidity; its motions are
said to be never quicker and brisker than when under water. It pursues
the fish to a very great depth, and is often caught in fishermen's
nets. It dives deeper than the scoter duck, which is taken only on beds
of shellfish left bare by the ebb-tide; while the Grebes are taken in
the open sea, often at more than twenty feet depth.
XI.
151. TITANIA ARCTICA. ARCTIC FAIRY.
Tringa Fulicaria. L.
(No French name given in my edition of Buffon!)
No German, anywhere.
No Italian, anywhere.
But of suggestions by scientific authors, here are enough to choose
from:--
Lobipes Hyperboreus, G. Lobipes Hyperborea, Selby. Phalaropus
Hyperboreus, Penn. Phalarope Hyperbore, Temm. Phalaropus Fulicaria,
Mont. Phalaropus Fuscus, Bewick. Phalaropus Rufescens, Briss. Red
Coot-footed Tringa, Edw. Red-necked Phalarope, Gould. Lobe-foot, Selby.
Coot-foot, Fleming.
I am a little shocked at my own choice of name in this case, not quite
pleasing my imagination with the idea of a Coot-footed Fairy. But since
Athena herself thinks it no disgrace to take for disguise the likeness
either of a sea-gull or a swallow, a sea-fairy may certainly be thought
of as condescending to appear with a diving bird's foot; and the rather
that, if one may judge by painters' efforts to give us sight of
Fairyland, the general character of its inhabitants is more that of
earthly or marine goblins than aerial ones.
Now this is strange! At the last moment, I find this sentence in
Gould's introduction: "The generic terms Phalaropus and Lobipes have
been instituted for the _fairy-like_ phalaropes."
XI.A.
TITANIA INCONSTANS. CHANGEFUL FAIRY.
Tringa Lobata. L.
Phalaropus Fulicarius (Gray Phalarope). G.
Phalaropus Lobatus. Latham.
"Phalarope with indented festoons," English trans. of Buffon.--It is of
no use to ring the changes farther.
XII.
152. RALLUS AQUATICUS. WATER RAIL.
Rallus Aquaticus. L., G., Y.
Râle d'Eau. F.
Samet-Hennle--Velvet (silken?) hen. Ges.
Schwartz-Wasser-Hennle. T.?
Vagtel-Konge. Danish.
Porzana, or Forzana, at Venice.
Brook-Ouzel--Velvet Runner. B.
I take this group of foreign names from Buffon, but question the German
one, which must belong to the Water Hen; for the Rail is not black, but
prettily gray and spotted, and I think Buffon confuses the two birds,
as several popular names do. Thus, the Velvet Hen also, I fancy, is the
Water Hen; but Bewick's Velvet-Runner partly confirms it to the Rail. I
find nothing about velvet said in describing the plumage.
I leave Linnæus's for our Latin name, under some protest. Rallus is a
late Latin adjective, meaning 'thin,' and if understood as 'Thin-bird,'
or 'Lath-like' bird, would be reasonable; but if it stand, as it does
practically, for Railing or Rattling bird, it is both bad Latin, and,
as far as I can make out, calumnious of the usually quiet creature.
Note also, for a connected piece of scholarship, that our English verb
to 'rail' does not properly mean to scold, or to abuse noisily; it is
from 'railler,' and means to 'rally,' or jest at, which is often a much
wickeder thing to do, if the matter be indeed no jest.
Note also of Samet or Samite, its derivation from late Greek [Greek:
examitos], silken stuff woven of six threads, of which I believe two
were of gold. The French oriflamme was of crimson samite, and I don't
see why the French shouldn't call this bird Poule de Soie, instead of
by their present ugly name--more objectionable on all grounds, of
sense, scholarship, and feeling, than the English one. But see the next
species.
153. XII.A.
PULLA AQUATICA. WATER HEN.
There seems so much confusion in the minds, or at least the language,
of ornithologists, between the Water Rail and Water Hen, that I give
this latter bird under the number XII.A. rather than XIII., (which
would, besides, be an unlucky number to end my Appendix with); and it
would be very nice, if at all possible or proper, to keep these two
larger dabchicks connected pleasantly in school-girl minds by their
costumes, and call one 'Silken Runner,' and this,--which, as said
above, Gesner seems to mean, Velvet Runner, or Velvet Hen.--Poule de
Soie or Poule de Velours? I am getting a little confused myself,
however, I find at last, between Poules, Poussins, Pullets, and Pullas;
and must for the present leave the matter to the reader's choice and
fancy, till I get some more birds looked at, and named:--only, for a
pretty end of my Appendix, here are two bits of very precious letters,
sent me by friends who know birds better than most scientific people,
but have been too busy--one in a 'Dorcas Society,' and the other in a
children's hospital--to write books, and only now write these bits of
letters on my special petition. The member of the Dorcas Society sends
me this brief but final and satisfactory answer to my above question
about birds' ears:--
"We talk and think of birds as essentially musical and mimetic, or at
least vocal and noisy creatures; and yet we seem to think that although
they have an ear, they have no ears. Little or nothing is told us of
the structure of a bird's ear. We are now too enlightened to believe in
what we can't see; and ears that are never pricked, or cocked, or laid
back,--that merely receive and learn, but don't express,--that are
organs, not features, don't interest our philosophers now.
"If you blow gently on the feathers of the side of a bird's head, a
little above and behind the corner of the beak, a little below and
behind the eye, the parted feathers will show the listening place; a
little hole with convolutions of delicate skin turning inwards, very
much like what your own ear would be if you had none,--I mean, if all
of it that lies above the level of the head had been removed, leaving
no trace. No one who looks at the little hole could fail to see that it
is an ear, highly organized--an ear for music; at least, I found it so
among the finches I have examined; I know not if a simpler structure is
evident in the ear of a rook or a peacock.
"The feathers are so planted round a bird's ears, that however ruffled
or wet, they can't get in--and possibly they conduct sound. Birds have
no need of ears with a movable cowl over them, to turn and twist for
the catching of stray sounds, as foxes have, and hares, and other
four-footed things; for a bird can turn his whole head so as to put his
ear wherever he pleases in the twinkling of an eye; and he has too many
resources, whatever bird he may be, of voice and gesture, to need any
power of ear-cocking to welcome his friends, or ear-flattening to
menace his foes.
"The long and the short of it is, that we may as well take the trouble
first to look for, and then to look at, a bird's ear--having first made
the bird like us and trust us so much, that he won't mind a human
breath upon his cheek, but will let us see behind the veil, into the
doorless corridor that lets music into the bird-soul."
154. Next; the physician (over whom, to get the letter out of him, I
had to use the authority of a more than ordinarily imperious patient)
says,--
"Now for the grebes lowering themselves in water, (which Lucy said I
was to tell you about). The way in which they manage it, I believe to
be this. Most birds have under their skins great air-passages which
open into the lungs, and which, when the bird is moving quickly, and
consequently devouring a great deal of air, do, to a certain extent,
the work of supplementary lungs. They also lessen the bird's specific
gravity, which must be of some help in flying. And in the gannet, which
drops into the sea from a great height after fish, these air-bags
lessen the shock on striking the water. Now the grebes (and all
diving-birds) which can swim high up out of water when the air-cushions
are full, and so feel very little the cold of the water beneath them,
breathe out all spare air, and sink almost out of sight when they wish
to be less conspicuous;--just as a balloon sinks when part of the gas
is let out. And I have often watched the common divers and cormorants
too, when frightened, swimming about with only head and neck out of
water, and so looking more like snakes than birds.
"Then about the Dippers: they 'fly' to the bottom of a stream, using
their wings, just as they would fly up into the air; and there is the
same difficulty in flying to the bottom of the stream, and keeping
there, as there would be in flying up into the air, and keeping
there,--perhaps greater difficulty.
"They can never walk comfortably along the bottom of a river, as they
could on the bank, though I know they are often talked of as doing it.
They too, no doubt, empty their air-bags, to make going under water a
little less difficult."
155. This most valuable letter, for once, leaves me a minute or two,
disposed to ask a question which would need the skinning of a bird in a
diagram to answer--about the "air-passages, which are a kind of
supplementary lungs." Thinking better of it, and leaving the bird to
breathe in its own way, I _do_ wish we could get this Dipper question
settled,--for here we are all at sea--or at least at brook, again,
about it: and although in a book I ought to have examined before--Mr.
Robert Gray's 'Birds of the West of Scotland,' which contains a
quantity of useful and amusing things, and some plates remarkable for
the delicate and spirited action of birds in groups,--although, I say,
this unusually well-gathered and well-written book has a nice little
lithograph of two dippers, and says they are quite universally
distributed in Scotland, and called 'Water Crows,' and in Gaelic 'Gobha
dubh nan allt,' (which I'm sure must mean something nice, if one knew
what,) and though it has a lively account of the bird's ways out of the
water--says not a word of its ways _in_ it! except that "dippers
everywhere delight in _deep_ linns and brawling rapids, where their
interesting motions never fail to attract the angler and bird-student;"
and this of their voices: "In early spring, the male birds may be seen
perched on some moss-covered stone, trilling their fine clear notes;"
and again: "I have stood within a few yards of one at the close of a
blustering winter's day, and enjoyed its charming music unobserved. The
performer was sitting on a stake jutting from a mill-pond in the midst
of a cold and cheerless Forfarshire moor, yet he joyously warbled his
evening hymn with a fullness which made me forget the surrounding
sterility."
Forget it not, thou, good reader; but rather remember it in your own
hymns, and your own prayers, that still--in Bonnie Scotland, and Old
England--the voices, almost lost, of Brook, and Breeze, and Bird, may,
by Love's help, be yet to their lovers audible. Ainsi soit il.
BRANTWOOD, 8_th July_, 1881.