[Footnote 4: The hornbill is also frugivorous, and the natives assert

that when endeavouring to detach a fruit, if the stem is too tough to be

severed by his mandibles, he flings himself off the branch so as to add

the weight of his body to the pressure of his beak. The hornbill abounds

in Cuttack, and bears there the name of "Kuchila-Kai," or Kuchila-eater,

from its partiality for the fruit of the Strychnus nuxvomica. The

natives regard its flesh as a sovereign specific for rheumatic

affections.--_Asiat. Res._ ch. xv. p. 184.]

[Footnote 5: _Itinerarius_ FRATRIS ODORICI, de Foro Julii de

Portu-vahonis, &c.--HAKLUYT, vol. ii. p. 39.]

[Illustration: THE HORNBILL.]

The Singhalese have a belief that the hornbill never resorts to the

water to drink; but that it subsists exclusively by what it catches in

its prodigious bill while rain is falling. This they allege is

associated with the incessant screaming which it keeps up during

showers.

As we emerge from the dark shade, and approach park-like openings on the

verge of the low country, quantities of pea-fowl are to be found either

feeding on the seeds among the long grass or sunning themselves on the

branches of the surrounding trees. Nothing to be met with in English

demesnes can give an adequate idea of the size and magnificence of this

matchless bird when seen in his native solitudes. Here he generally

selects some projecting branch, from which his plumage may hang free of

the foliage, and, if there be a dead and leafless bough, he is certain

to choose it for his resting-place, whence he droops his wings and

suspends his gorgeous train, or spreads it in the morning sun to drive

off the damps and dews of the night.

In some of the unfrequented portions of the eastern province, to which

Europeans rarely resort, and where the pea-fowl are unmolested by the

natives, their number is so extraordinary that, regarded as game, it

ceases to be "sport" to destroy them; and their cries at early dawn are

so tumultuous and incessant as to banish sleep, and amount to an actual

inconvenience. Their flesh is excellent in flavour when served up hot,

though it is said to be indigestible; but, when cold, it contracts a

reddish and disagreeable tinge.

The European fable of the jackdaw borrowing the plumage of the peacock,

has its counterpart in Ceylon, where the popular legend runs that the

pea-fowl stole the plumage of a bird called by the natives _avitchia_. I

have not been able to identify the species which bears this name; but it

utters a cry resembling the word _matkiang!_ which in Singhalese means,

"I _will_ complain!" This they believe is addressed by the bird to the

rising sun, imploring redress for its wrongs. The _avitchia_ is

described as somewhat less than a crow, the colours of its plumage being

green, mingled with red.

But of all, the most astonishing in point of multitude, as well as the

most interesting from their endless variety, are the myriads of aquatic

birds and waders which frequent the lakes and watercourses; especially

those along the coast near Batticaloa, between the mainland and the sand

formations of the shore, and the innumerable salt marshes and lagoons to

the south of Trincomalie. These, and the profusion of perching birds,

fly-catchers, finches, and thrushes, that appear in the open country,

afford sufficient quarry for the raptorial and predatory

species--eagles, hawks, and falcons--whose daring sweeps and effortless

undulations are striking objects in the cloudless sky.

I. ACCIPITRES. _Eagles_.--The Eagles, however, are small, and as

compared with other countries rare; except, perhaps, the crested

eagle[1], which haunts the mountain provinces and the lower hills,

disquieting the peasantry by its ravages amongst their poultry; and the

gloomy serpent eagle[2], which, descending from its eyrie in the lofty

jungle, and uttering a loud and plaintive cry, sweeps cautiously around

the lonely tanks and marshes, to feed upon the reptiles on their margin.

The largest eagle is the great sea Erne[3], seen on the northern coasts

and the salt lakes of the eastern provinces, particularly when the

receding tide leaves bare an expanse of beach, over which it hunts, in

company with the fishing eagle[4], sacred to Siva. Unlike its

companions, however, the sea eagle rejects garbage for living prey, and

especially for the sea snakes which abound on the northern coasts. These

it seizes by descending with its wings half closed, and, suddenly

darting down its talons, it soars aloft again with its writhing

victim.[5]

[Footnote 1: Spizaëtuslimnaëtus, _Horsf_. The race of these birds in the

Deccan and Ceylon are rather more crested, originating the Sp.

Cristatellus, _Auct_.]

[Footnote 2: Which Gould believes to be the _Hæmatornis Bacha_, Daud.]

[Footnote 3: Pontoaëtus leucogaster, _Gmel_.]

[Footnote 4: Haliastur Indus, _Bodd._]

[Footnote 5: E.L. Layard. Europeans have given this bird the name of the

"Brahminy Kite," probably from observing the superstitious feeling of

the natives regarding it, who believe that when two armies are about to

engage, its appearance prognosticates victory to the party over whom it

hovers.]

_Hawks_.--The beautiful Peregrine Falcon[1] is rare, but the Kestrel[2]

is found almost universally; and the bold and daring Goshawk[3] wherever

wild crags and precipices afford safe breeding places. In the district

of Anarajapoora, where it is trained for hawking, it is usual, in lieu

of a hood, to darken its eyes by means of a silken thread passed through

holes in the eyelids. The ignoble birds of prey, the Kites[4], keep

close by the shore, and hover round the returning boats of the fishermen

to feast on the fry rejected from their nets.

[Footnote 1: Falco peregrinus, _Linn._]

[Footnote 2: Tinnunculus alaudarius, _Briss._]

[Footnote 3: Astur trivirgatus, _Temm._]

[Footnote 4: Milvus govinda, _Sykes._ Dr. Hamilton Buchanan remarks that

when gorged this bird delights to sit on the entablature of buildings,

exposing its back to the hottest rays of the sun, placing its breast

against the wall, and stretching out its wings _exactly as the Egyptian

Hawk is represented on the monuments_.]

_Owls_.--Of the nocturnal accipitres the most remarkable is the brown

owl, which, from its hideous yell, has acquired the name of the

"Devil-Bird."[1] The Singhalese regard it literally with horror, and its

scream by night in the vicinity of a village is bewailed as the

harbinger of impending calamity.[2] There is a popular legend in

connection with it, to the effect that a morose and savage husband, who

suspected the fidelity of his wife, availed himself of her absence to

kill her child, of whose paternity he was doubtful, and on her return

placed before her a curry prepared from its flesh. Of this the unhappy

woman partook, till discovering the crime by finding the finger of her

infant, she fled in frenzy to the forest, and there destroyed herself.

On her death she was metamorphosed, according to the Buddhist belief,

into an _ulama_, or Devil-bird, which still at nightfall horrifies the

villagers by repeating the frantic screams of the bereaved mother in her

agony.

[Footnote 1: Syrnium Indranee, _Sykes._ Mr. Blyth writes to me from

Calcutta that there are some doubts about this bird. There would appear

to be three or four distinguishable races, the Ceylon bird approximating

most nearly to that of the Malayan Peninsula.]

[Illustration: THE "DEVIL BIRD."]

[Footnote 2: The horror of this nocturnal scream was equally prevalent

in the West as in the East. Ovid introduces it in his _Fasti_, L. vi. l.

139; and Tibullus in his Elegies, L. i. El. 5. Statius says--

Nocturnæque gemunt striges, et feralla bubo

_Damna canens_. Theb. iii. l. 511.

But Pliny, l. xi. c. 93, doubts as to what bird produced the sound;--and

the details of Ovid's description do not apply to an owl.

Mr. Mitford, of the Ceylon Civil Service, to whom I am indebted for many

valuable notes relative to the birds of the island, regards the

identification of the Singhalese Devil-Bird as open to similar doubt: he

says--"The Devil-Bird is not an owl. I never heard it until I came to

Kornegalle, where it haunts the rocky hill at the back of

Government-house. Its ordinary note is a magnificent clear shout like

that of a human being, and which can be heard at a great distance, and

has a fine effect in the silence of the closing night. It has another

cry like that of a hen just caught, but the sounds which have earned for

it its bad name, and which I have heard but once to perfection, are

indescribable, the most appalling that can be imagined, and scarcely to

be heard without shuddering; I can only compare it to a boy in torture,

whose screams are being stopped by being strangled. I have offered

rewards for a specimen, but without success. The only European who had

seen and fired at one agreed with the natives that it is of the size of

a pigeon, with a long tail. I believe it is a Podargus or Night Hawk."

In a subsequent note he further says--"I have since seen two birds by

moonlight, one of the size and shape of a cuckoo, the other a large

black bird, which I imagine to be the one which gives these calls."]

II. PASSERES. _Swallows_.--Within thirty-five miles of Caltura, on the

western coast, are inland caves, to which the Esculent Swift[1] resorts,

and there builds the "edible bird's nest," so highly prized in China.

Near the spot a few Chinese immigrants have established themselves, who

rent the nests as a royalty from the government, and make an annual

export of the produce. But the Swifts are not confined to this district,

and caves containing them have been found far in the interior, a fact

which complicates the still unexplained mystery of the composition of

their nest; and, notwithstanding the power of wing possessed by these

birds, adds something to the difficulty of believing that it consists of

glutinous material obtained from algæ.[2] In the nests brought to me

there was no trace of organisation; and the original material, whatever

it be, is so elaborated by the swallow as to present somewhat the

appearance and consistency of strings of isinglass. The quantity of

these nests exported from Ceylon is trifling.

[Footnote 1: Collocalia brevirostris, _McClell_.; C. nidifica, _Gray_.]

[Footnote 2: An epitome of what has been written on this subject will be

found in _Dr. Horsfield's Catalogue_ of the Birds in the E.I. Comp.

Museum, vol. i. p. 101, &c. Mr. Morris assures me, that he has found the

nests of the Esculent Swallow eighty miles distant from the sea.]

_Kingfishers_.--In solitary places, where no sound breaks the silence

except the gurgle of the river as it sweeps round the rocks, the lonely

Kingfisher, the emblem of vigilance and patience, sits upon an

overhanging branch, his turquoise plumage hardly less intense in its

lustre than the deep blue of the sky above him; and so intent is his

watch upon the passing fish that intrusion fails to scare him from his

post.

_Sun Birds_.--In the gardens the tiny Sun Birds[1] (known as the Humming

Birds of Ceylon) hover all day long, attracted to the plants, over which

they hang poised on their glittering wings, and inserting their curved

beaks to extract the insects that nestle in the flowers.

[Footnote 1: Nectarina Zeylanica, _Linn._]

Perhaps the most graceful of the birds of Ceylon in form and motions,

and the most chaste in colouring, is the one which Europeans call "the

Bird of Paradise,"[1] and natives "the Cotton Thief," from the

circumstance that its tail consists of two long white feathers, which

stream behind it as it flies. Mr. Layard says:--"I have often watched

them, when seeking their insect prey, turn suddenly on their perch and

_whisk their long tails with a jerk_ over the bough, as if to protect

them from injury."

[Footnote 1: Tchitrea paradisi, _Linn._]

[Illustration: TCHITREA PARADISI.]

The tail is sometimes brown, and the natives have the idea that the bird

changes its plumage at stated periods, and that the tail-feathers become

white and brown in alternate years. The fact of the variety of plumage

is no doubt true, but this story as to the alternation of colours in the

same individual requires confirmation.[1]

[Footnote 1: The engraving of the Tchitrea given on page 244 is copied

by permission from one of the splendid drawings in. MR. GOULD'S _Birds

of India_.]

_The Bulbul_.--The _Condatchee Bulbul_[1], which, from the crest on its

head, is called by the Singhalese the "Konda Cooroola," or _Tuft bird_,

is regarded by the natives as the most "_game_" of all birds; and

training it to fight was one of the duties entrusted by the Kings of

Kandy to the Cooroowa, or Head-man, who had charge of the King's animals

and Birds. For this purpose the Bulbul is taken from the nest as soon as

the sex is distinguishable by the tufted crown; and secured by a string,

is taught to fly from hand to hand of its keeper. When pitted against an

antagonist, such is the obstinate courage of this little creature that

it will sink from exhaustion rather than release its hold. This

propensity, and the ordinary character of its notes, render it

impossible that the Bulbul of India could be identical with the Bulbul

of Iran, the "Bird of a Thousand Songs,"[2] of which, poets say that its

delicate passion for the rose gives a plaintive character to its note.

[Footnote 1: Pycnonotus hæmorrhous, _Gmel_.]

[Footnote 2: "Hazardasitaum" the Persian name for the bulbul. "The

Persians," according to Zakary ben Mohamed al Caswini, "say the bulbul

has a passion for the rose, and laments and cries when he sees it

pulled."--OUSELEY'S _Oriental Collections_, vol. i. p. 16. According to

Pallas it is the true nightingale of Europe, Sylvia luscinia, which the

Armenians call _boulboul_, and the Crim-Tartars _byl-byl-i_.]

_Tailor-Bird_.--_The Weaver-Bird_.--The tailor-bird[1] having completed

her nest, sewing together leaves by passing through them a cotton thread

twisted by herself, leaps from branch to branch to testify her happiness

by a clear and merry note; and the Indian weaver[2], a still more

ingenious artist, hangs its pendulous dwelling from a projecting bough;

twisting it with grass into a form somewhat resembling a bottle with a

prolonged neck, the entrance being inverted, so as to baffle the

approaches of its enemies, the tree snakes and other reptiles. The

natives assert that the male bird carries fire flies to the nest, and

fastens them to its sides by a particle of soft mud;--Mr. Layard assures

me that although he has never succeeded in finding the fire fly, the

nest of the male bird (for the female occupies another during

incubation) invariably contains a patch of mud on each side of the

perch. Grass is apparently the most convenient material for the purposes

of the Weaver-bird when constructing its nest, but other substances are

often substituted, and some nests which I brought from Ceylon proved to

be formed with delicate strips from the fronds of the dwarf date-palm,

_Phoenix paludosa_, which happened to grow near the breeding place.

[Footnote 1: Orthotomus longicauda, _Gmel_.]

[Footnote 2: Ploceus baya, _Blyth_.; P. Philippinus, _Auct_.]

[Illustration: "CISSA PUELLA."]

Amongst the birds of this order, one which, as far as I know, is

peculiar to the island is _Layard's Mountain-jay_ (_Cissa puella_, Blyth

and Layard), is distinguished not less by the beautiful blue colour

which enlivens its plumage, than by the elegance of its form and the

grace of its attitudes. It frequents the hill country, and is found

about the mountain streams at Neuera-ellia, and elsewhere.[1]

[Footnote 1: The engraving above is taken by permission of Mr. Gould

from one of his drawings for his _Birds of India_.]

_Crows_.--Of all the Ceylon birds of this order the most familiar and

notorious are the small glossy crows, whose shining black plumage shot

with blue has suggested the title of _Corvus splendens_.[1] They

frequent the towns in companies, and domesticate themselves in the close

vicinity of every house; and it may possibly serve to account for the

familiarity and audacity which they exhibit in their intercourse with

men, that the Dutch during their sovereignty in Ceylon, enforced severe

penalties against any one killing a crow, under the belief that they

were instrumental in extending the growth of cinnamon by feeding on the

fruit, and thus disseminating the undigested seed.[2]

[Footnote 1: There is another species, the _C. culminatus_, so called

from the convexity of its bill; but though seen in the towns, it lives

chiefly in the open country, and may be constantly observed wherever

there are buffaloes, perched on their backs and engaged, in company with

the small Minah (_Acridotheres tristis_), in freeing them from ticks.]

[Footnote 2: WOLF'S _Life and Adventures_, p. 117.]

So accustomed are the natives to their presence and exploits, that, like

the Greeks and Romans, they have made the movements of crows the basis

of their auguries; and there is no end to the vicissitudes of good and

evil fortune which may not be predicted from the direction of their

flight, the hoarse or mellow notes of their croaking, the variety of

trees on which they rest, and the numbers in which they are seen to

assemble.

All day long these birds are engaged in watching either the offal of the

offices, or the preparation for meals in the dining-room: and as doors

and windows are necessarily opened to relieve the heat, nothing is more

common than the passage of a crow across the room, lifting on the wing

some ill-guarded morsel from the dinner-table. No article, however

unpromising its quality, provided only it be portable, can with safety

be left unguarded in any apartment accessible to them. The contents of

ladies' work-boxes, kid gloves, and pocket handkerchiefs vanish

instantly if exposed near a window or open door. They open paper parcels

to ascertain the contents; they will undo the knot on a napkin if it

encloses anything eatable, and I have known a crow to extract the peg

which fastened the lid of a basket in order to plunder the provender

within.

On one occasion a nurse seated in a garden adjoining a regimental

mess-room, was terrified by seeing a bloody clasp-knife drop from the

air at her feet; but the mystery was explained on learning that a crow,

which had been watching the cook chopping mince-meat, had seized the

moment when his head was turned to carry off the knife.

One of these ingenious marauders, after vainly attitudinising in front

of a chained watch-dog, that was lazily gnawing a bone, and after

fruitlessly endeavouring to divert his attention by dancing before him,

with head awry and eye askance, at length flew away for a moment, and

returned bringing a companion which perched itself on a branch a few

yards in the rear. The crow's grimaces were now actively renewed, but

with no better success, till its confederate, poising itself on its

wings, descended with the utmost velocity, striking the dog upon the

spine with all the force of its strong beak. The _ruse_ was successful;

the dog started with surprise and pain, but not quickly enough to seize

his assailant, whilst the bone he had been gnawing was snatched away by

the first crow the instant his head was turned. Two well-authenticated

instances of the recurrence of this device came within my knowledge at

Colombo, and attest the sagacity and powers of communication and

combination possessed by these astute and courageous birds.

On the approach of evening the crows near Colombo assemble in noisy

groups along the margin of the freshwater lake which surrounds the fort

on the eastern side; and here for an hour or two they enjoy the luxury

of throwing the water over their shining backs, and arranging their

plumage decorously, after which they disperse, each taking the direction

of his accustomed quarters for the night.[1]

[Footnote 1: A similar habit has been noticed in the damask Parrots of

Africa (_Palæornis fuscus_) which daily resort at the same hour to their

accustomed pools to bathe.]

During the storms which usher in the monsoon, it has been observed, that

when coco-nut palms are destroyed by lightning, the effect frequently

extends beyond a single tree, and from the contiguity and conduction of

the spreading leaves, or some other peculiar cause, large groups will be

affected by a single flash, a few killed instantly, and the rest doomed

to rapid decay. In Belligam Bay, a little to the east of Point-de-Galle,

a small island, which is covered with coco-nuts, has acquired the name

of "Crow Island," from being the resort of those birds, which are seen

hastening towards it in thousands towards sunset. A few years ago,

during a violent storm of thunder, such was the destruction of the crows

that the beach for some distance was covered with a black line of their

remains, and the grove on which they had been resting was to a great

extent destroyed by the same flash.[1]

[Footnote 1: Similar instances are recorded in other countries of sudden

and prodigious mortality amongst crows; but whether occasioned by

lightning seems uncertain. In 1839 thirty-three thousand dead crows were

found on the shores of a lake in the county Westmeath in Ireland after a

storm.--THOMPSON'S _Nat. Hist. Ireland_, vol. i. p. 319. PATTERSON in

his _Zoology_, p. 356, mentions other cases.]

III. SCANSORES. _Parroquets_.--Of the Psittacidæ the only examples are

the parroquets, of which the most renowned is the _Palæornis Alexandri_,

which has the historic distinction of bearing the name of the great

conqueror of India, having been the first of its race introduced to the

knowledge of Europe on the return of his expedition. An idea of their

number may be formed from the following statement of Mr. Layard, as to

the multitudes which are to be found on the western coast. "At Chilaw, I

have seen such vast flights of parroquets hurrying towards the coco-nut

trees which overhang the bazaar, that their noise drowned the Babel of

tongues bargaining for the evening provisions. Hearing of the swarms

that resorted to this spot, I posted myself on a bridge some half mile

distant, and attempted to count the flocks which came from a single

direction to the eastward. About four o'clock in the afternoon,

straggling parties began to wend towards home, and in the course of half

an hour the current fairly set in. But I soon found that I had no longer

distinct flocks to count, it became one living screaming stream. Some

flew high in the air till right above their homes, and dived abruptly

downward with many evolutions till on a level with the trees; others

kept along the ground and dashed close by my face with the rapidity of

thought, their brilliant plumage shining with an exquisite lustre in the

sun-light. I waited on the spot till the evening closed, when I could

hear, though no longer distinguish, the birds fighting for their

perches, and on firing a shot they rose with a noise like the 'rushing

of a mighty wind,' but soon settled again, and such a din commenced as I

shall never forget; the shrill screams of the birds, the fluttering of

their innumerable wings, and the rustling of the leaves of the palm

trees was almost deafening, and I was glad at last to escape to the

Government Rest House."[1]

[Footnote 1: _Annals of Nat. Hist._ vol. xiii. p. 263.]

IV. COLUMBIDÆ. _Pigeons_.--Of pigeons and doves there are at least a

dozen species. Some live entirely on trees[1], never alighting on the

ground; others, notwithstanding the abundance of food and warmth, are

migratory[2], allured, as the Singhalese allege, by the ripening of the

cinnamon berries, and hence one species is known in the southern

provinces as the "Cinnamon Dove." Others feed on the fruits of the

banyan: and it is probably to their instrumentality that this marvellous

tree chiefly owes its diffusion, its seeds being carried by them to

remote localities. A very beautiful pigeon, peculiar to the mountain

range, discovered in the lofty trees at Neuera-ellia, has, in compliment

to the Viscountess Torrington, been named _Carpophaga Torringtoniæ_.

[Footnote 1: Treron bicincta. _Jerd_.]

[Footnote 2: _Alsocomus puniceus_, the "Season Pigeon" of Ceylon, so

called from its periodical arrival and departure.]

Sketches of the Natural History of Ceylon · 第 19 / 41 段