Among the most curious nests are those made by the birds called
weavers. These feathered workmen serve no apprenticeship: their trade
comes to them by nature; and how well they work at it! But then you
must admit that Nature is a skilful teacher and birds are apt scholars.
The Baltimore oriole is a weaver, and it makes its nest out of bark,
fine grass, moss, and wool, strengthening it, when circumstances
permit, with pieces of string or horsehair. This nest, pouch-shaped,
and open at the top, is fastened to the branch of a tree, and is
sometimes interwoven with the twigs of a waving bough. The threads of
grass and long fibres of moss, are woven together, in and out, as if by
machinery; and it seems hard to believe that the little birds can do
such work without help.
The long, slender boughs of the willow are the favorite resort of the
oriole; and here, in the midst of a storm, the bird may sit in its
swinging nest, fearing no danger. What is there to dread? The trees
rock in the wind, but the oriole’s habitation is strong and well
secured. Unless the branch from which the nest hangs be torn from the
tree, the nest will endure the tempest and prove a safe shelter for the
blithe little bird.
Many weaver-birds in Asia and Africa hang their nests from the ends of
twigs and branches overhanging the water. This is to keep away monkeys
and snakes, which abound in hot countries and are the greatest enemies
birds have. The wise little weaver knows that the cunning monkey will
not trust his precious life to a frail branch that may break, and drop
him into the water; yet the same frail branch is strong enough for the
bird and its nest. In this case, the monkey is obliged to admit that
the bird’s wisdom is more than a match for his.
[Illustration]
A very curious custom exists among a class of birds found in Africa,
called “the social weavers.” They begin their work in companies, and
build immense canopies, like umbrellas, in the tops of trees. These
grassy structures are so closely woven that the rain cannot penetrate
them. Under this shelter the birds build their nests, but no longer
in company; the nest for each pair must be made by the pair without
assistance from their neighbors.
The tailor-bird of India makes a still more curious nest than that
of the weavers: it actually sews, using its long, slender bill as a
needle. Birds that fly, birds that run, birds that swim, and birds that
sing are by no means rare; but birds that sew seem like the wonderful
birds in the fairy-tales.
Yet they really exist, and make their odd nests with great care and
skill. They pick out a leaf large enough for their nest, and pierce
rows of holes along the edges with their sharp bill; then, with the
fibres of a plant or long threads of grass, they sew the leaf up into
a bag. Sometimes it is necessary to sew two leaves together, that the
space within may be large enough.
This kind of sewing resembles shoemakers’ or saddlers’ work; but, the
leaf being like fine cloth and not like leather, perhaps the name
“tailor-bird” is the most appropriate for the little worker. The
bag is lined with soft, downy material, and in this the tiny eggs
are laid--tiny indeed, for the tailor-bird is no larger than the
humming-bird. The weight of the little creature does not even draw down
the nest, and the leaf in which the eggs or young birds are hidden
looks like the other leaves on the trees; so that there is nothing to
attract the attention of the forest robbers.
Another bird, called the Indian sparrow, makes her nest of grass, woven
like cloth and shaped like a bottle. The neck of the bottle hangs
downward, and the bird enters from below. This structure, swinging
from a high tree, over a river, is safe from the visits of mischievous
animals.
If all the stories about this Indian sparrow are true, the inside
of its nest is strangely adorned. Fire-flies are brought in by the
bird and stuck to the walls with clay; whether they are placed there
to light up the little home, or to dazzle the bats that infest the
neighborhood, no one seems to know. Perhaps the truth is that the
fire-flies are in the nest in imagination only. However that may be,
the Indian sparrow is a clever workman.
Can you wonder that birds and their nests have always been a source of
delight to the thoughtful enquirer?
“Mark it well--within, without.
No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut,
No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert,
No glue to join: his little beak was all.
And yet how neatly finished! What nice hand,
With every implement and means of art,
And twenty years’ apprenticeship to boot.
Could make me such another?”
_Word Exercise._
o´ri-ōle
căn´o-pies
fā´vor-ĭte
as-sĭst´ance
monkey (_mŭng´ke_)
en-quīr´er
apprentice (_ap-prĕn´tis_)
mischievous (_mĭs´che-vŭs_)
machinery (_ma-shēn´er-e_)
Baltimore (_bawl´ti-more_)
nĕç´es-sa-ry
ap-prō´pri-āte
um-brĕl´las
im´ple-mĕnt
cir´cum-stance
_Phrase Exercise._
1. Apt scholars.--2. Endure the tempest.--3. Obliged to
admit.--4. A curious custom exists.--5. Downy material.--6.
Attract the attention.--7. Strangely adorned.--8. Infest the
neighborhood.--9. Clever workman.--10. Source of delight.--11.
Thoughtful enquirer.--12. Mark it well.--13. Neatly
finished.--14. With apprenticeship to boot.