"The boys being let down by their comrades to the holes, put in a long

rammer, with a screw at the end, such as is used to unload guns, and,

twisting it about, drew out the birds. For a trifle I procured some of

them. When I first had them, they seemed stiff and lifeless; I put one

of them in my bosom, between my skin and shirt, and laid another on a

board, the sun shining full and warm upon it; and one or two of my

companions did the like. That in my bosom revived in about a quarter of

an hour; feeling it move, I took it out to look at it; but perceiving it

not sufficiently come to itself, I put it in again; in about another

quarter, feeling it flutter pretty briskly, I took it out, and admired

it. Being now perfectly recovered, before I was aware, it took its

flight; the covering of the boat prevented me from seeing where it went.

The bird on the board, though exposed to a full sun, yet, I presume from

a chilliness of the air, did not revive so as to be able to fly."[115]

On this account I may observe that Collinson would hardly have been the

medium of this communication, unless he had been satisfied of the

probity of his correspondent. The time was "the latter end of March," a

fortnight at least before the arrival of the Sand Martin--the earliest

of our migrants; and the whole enterprise of the boys, and the

familiarity of the waterman with the circumstance, as well as their

assertions, shew that they, at least, had no doubt about this being a

case of hybernation. Yet the repeated exploration of the Sand Martin's

burrows in this country, in winter, has produced no birds.

White of Selborne, who was very much interested in the solution of this

question, mentions two instances--both, however, on hearsay evidence. A

clergyman assured him that, when he was a boy, some workmen, in pulling

down the battlements of a tower, early in spring, found two or three

Swifts _among the rubbish_, which appeared dead, but revived in the

warmth. The other account was that of the fall of a portion of the cliff

near Brighton in winter, when many persons found Swallows among the

rubbish; but here even White's informant did not see the birds, but was

merely told of them.[116]

Bishop Stanley, in his "Familiar History of Birds," has collected some

stories which appear circumstantial enough, if we could be quite sure

they were authentic; on which point the good bishop seems to give the

weight of his own character, since he observes that they are "cases

which have come to our knowledge, on the most respectable authority."

"On the 16th of November 1826, a gentleman residing near Loch Awe, in

Scotland, having occasion to examine an out-house, used as a cart-shed,

saw an unusual appearance upon one of the rafters which crossed and

supported the thatched roof. Upon mounting a ladder, he found to his

astonishment that this was a group of Chimney-swallows (_Hirundo

rustica_) which had taken up their winter quarters in this exposed

situation. The group consisted of five, completely torpid: and none of

the tribe to which they belonged had been seen for five or six weeks

previously: he took them in his hand, as they lay closely and coldly

huddled together, and conveyed them to his house, in order to exhibit

them as objects of curiosity to the other members of his family. For

some time they remained to all appearance lifeless; but the temperature

of the apartment into which they were carried being considerably raised

by a good turf fire, they gradually evinced symptoms of reanimation; and

in less than a quarter of an hour, finding that they were rather rudely

handled, all of them recovered, so as to fly impatiently round the room,

in search of some opening by which they might escape. The window was

thrown up, and they soon found their way into the fields, and were never

seen again. A similar circumstance, though, from the place of its

discovery it must refer probably to Sand Martins, was related by a

gentleman who found two Swallows in a sand-bank at Newton, near

Stirling, quite dormant.

"Again, about half-a-dozen Swallows were found a few years ago, in a

torpid state, in the trunk of a hollow tree, by a countryman, who

brought them to a respectable person, by whom they were deposited in a

desk, where they remained forgotten till the following spring, when, one

morning, on hearing a noise, he opened the desk, and found one of them

fluttering about: the others also began to shew signs of life, and upon

being placed out of doors in the sun, speedily arranged their plumage,

took wing, and disappeared.

"On the 2d of November 1829, at Loch Ransa, in the island of Arran, a

man, while digging in a place where a pond had been lately drained off,

discovered two Swallows in a state of torpor; on placing them near the

fire, they recovered. One unfortunately escaped, but the other was kept

by the man, for the purpose of shewing it to some scientific persons."

In North America there is a curious species of Swift, (_Acanthylis

pelasgia_,) which associates in immense flocks to roost in chimneys and

hollow trees. It is the popular belief that these birds spend the winter

in a torpid condition in their roosting trees. Williams, in his "History

of Vermont," speaks of a large hollow elm which had been for many years

appropriated to this purpose. A farmer resident close to the tree was

persuaded that it was the winter dwelling-place of the Swifts, and

avoided felling it on that account. About the 1st of May, he always saw

them come out of it in large numbers, about the middle of the day, and

in a short time return. Then, as the weather grew warmer, they came

forth in increased multitudes in the morning, and did not return till

night. A similar account was given of another tree: the first appearance

of the Swifts in spring was always their emergence from its hollow

trunk, and their last, in September, was their ingress. Yet Wilson, the

great ornithologist of America, argues, not without some heat, yet with

considerable force, that such a belief is erroneous. Erroneous,

certainly, the supposition that the whole body of the Chimney-swifts so

hybernate; but whether a few do or do not, his arguments do not quite

conclude.

The rustic quatrain, quoted in the outset of this disquisition, mentions

the Corncrake, as associated with the Swallow in this winter-sleep,--"in

the hollow." It is curious that two modern instances are on record of

hybernating Corncrakes, though this is certainly as migratory a species

with us as the _Hirundinidae_. A farmer at Aikerness in Orkney, about

midwinter, in demolishing a mud-wall, found a Corncrake in the midst of

it. It was apparently lifeless; but being fresh to the feel and smell,

it was placed in the warmth. In a short time it began to move, and in a

few hours was able to walk about, and lived for two days in the kitchen;

when refusing all food, or rather, none that suited it being then

obtainable, it died.[117]

"The second case occurred at Monaghan, in Ireland, where a gentleman,

having directed his labourers, in winter, to remove a large heap of

manure, that had remained undisturbed for a great length of time,

perceived a hole, which was supposed to have been made by rats; it

penetrated to a great depth, but at its termination, instead of rats,

three Corncrakes were discovered, as if placed there with the greatest

care, not a feather being out of its place, and apparently lifeless. The

birds on examination were, however, considered to be in a torpid state,

and were placed near a fire in a warm room. In the course of a short

time a tremulous motion was observed in one of their legs, and soon

after a similar motion was noticed in the legs and wings of the whole,

which at length extended itself to their whole bodies, and finally the

birds were enabled to run and fly about the room."[118]

Daines Barrington, the correspondent of Gilbert White and of Pennant,

was a firm believer in the winter sleep of Swallows with us. He

mentions, on the authority of Lord Belhaven, that numbers of Swallows

had been found in old dry walls and in sandhills near his lordship's

seat in East-Lothian; not once only, _but from year to year_, and that

when they were exposed to the warmth, they revived. He says, however, he

cannot determine the particular species.[119]

The same naturalist mentions many other instances in which they have

been reported to be found, but he cannot give his personal voucher for

the truth of the statements.

"As first in a decayed hollow tree, that was cut down near Dolgelly, in

Merionethshire; secondly, in a cliff near Whitby, in Yorkshire, where,

in digging out a fox, whole bushels of Swallows were found in a torpid

condition; thirdly, the Rev. Mr Conway, of Lychton, Flintshire, a few

years ago, between All Saints' and Christmas, on looking down an old

lead mine in that county, observed numbers of Swallows clinging to the

timbers of the shaft, seemingly asleep, and on flinging some gravel on

them they just moved, but never attempted to fly or to change their

place."[120]

In some communications to the _Zoologist_ for 1845, by the late Mr F.

Holme, of Oxford, I find the following statement:--"On the hybernation

of this species (the House-swallow) I was told many years since, by old

Wall, then keeper of the Kildare Street Museum, in Dublin, ... that

after a heavy snow, in the winter of 1825-26, on going into the

_mansarde_ to see whether the snow had melted through, he found four

Chimney-swallows perched close together on a cross-beam, with their

heads under their wings; but on approaching his hand to them they flew

off, and escaped into the open air."[121]

Again, Mr J. B. Ellman of Battel, says, "There is a farmer named Waters,

residing at Catsfield, (adjoining parish,) who informs me he has

frequently (some years ago) dug Swallows out of banks in winter, while

widening the ditches in the brooks," &c.[122]

It is unfortunate that most of these and similar discoveries were "some

years ago;" and that, instead of increasing in frequency with the

increase of scientific research and communication, they strangely become

more rare. The same remark applies to the following statement: it is

minute enough, and circumstantially precise; but, unfortunately, it was

"fifteen years ago." The communicator is Edward Brown Fitton, Hastings,

under date September 8, 1849:--

"A labourer named William Joyce, who is now employed in excavating part

of the East Hill for the foundation of a house, told me yesterday, that,

in the month of December, about fifteen years ago, while he was working

for Mr William Ranger, who had the contract for cutting away the 'White

Rock,' which used to stand between this place and St Leonard's, the men

found an immense quantity of Swallows in a cleft of the rock. The birds

were clinging together in large 'clots,' and appeared to be dead, but

were not frozen together, the weather being rather warm for the season,

nor were they at all putrid or decayed. The men carried out at least

_three railway-barrows_ full of birds, which were buried with the mould

and rubbish from the cliff as it was wheeled away. Some people from the

town carried away a few of the birds to 'make experiments with,' but

Joyce never heard any more of them. He mentioned the names of four

persons now in Hastings, who were then his fellow-labourers, and says,

that forty or fifty of Mr Ranger's men were on the spot when the birds

were found, and can confirm what he says, both as to the finding and the

very great quantity of the birds. There are many crevices in the seaward

surface of the cliffs about here, which apparently penetrate the cliff

for several yards. The birds were found about ten feet from the surface

of the rock facing the sea, and not very high up."[123]

There is yet another class of facts to be adduced, which has an

important bearing on the subject. At first sight, these facts appear

less conclusive than the asserted discoveries of the birds, because less

direct; but I am inclined to attach more value to them, because they are

attested by so many and so unexceptionable witnesses. I mean the sight

of Swallows at large in these islands during the winter months. Let us

see some examples.

White of Selborne records several cases: thus, in 1773, twenty or thirty

House-martins were playing in the air all day on the 3d of

November,[124] after having disappeared from the 22d of October. In

1772, he saw three House-swallows gliding by on the sea-shore at

Newhaven, on the 4th of November.[125] On another occasion, (the year

not being recorded,) he saw, on a sunny morning, a House-martin flying,

at Oxford, on the 20th of November.[126] On the 26th of November 1768,

one of his neighbours saw a Martin hawking briskly after flies.[127] And

a very respectable gentleman assured him that on a remarkably hot day,

either in the last week in December or the first week in January, he

espied three or four Swallows in the moulding of a window of Merton

College, Oxford.[128]

Colonel Montagu remarks that "there are a variety of instances of the

Swallow and Martin having been seen flying in the months of November and

December, roused probably from a state of torpidity by an unusual warmth

of the air;"[129] and Captain H. W. Hadfield, commenting on this,

affirms that he has "more than once had ocular proof of their presence

during the winter months."[130] Yarrell gives examples of the late

appearance of the Swift. One was seen by Mr Blackwall on the 20th of

October 1815; a second in Perthshire on the 8th of November 1834; and a

third in Devonshire, by the Rev. Mr Cornish, on the 27th November

1835.[131] In considering these cases, it is needful to bear in mind

that the Swift migrates from this country annually from the 1st to the

15th of August.

Mr C. R. Bree mentions the following case, which I record, not because

it was particularly late, but because the state of the season, and some

other circumstances which he remarks on are interesting:--"On the 25th

of October 1848, some workmen being engaged on the roof of my house, I

was surprised by the appearance of three Swallows flying about the men.

I had not seen one since the beginning of the month. By the side of the

edge of the gable-end of the house the plaster was broken away, forming

a hole, which led under the roof. While watching the birds, which came

occasionally quite close to my face, I saw first one, then another,

alight upon the ledge of the gable-end, near the hole. Now, I thought, I

am to settle the question of hybernation: but I was disappointed. Though

I watched them for several hours--though I sent the workmen to another

part of the house, yet, although they frequently settled about the hole,

they never entered it. They were evidently young birds, and had been

disturbed. One of them rested upon the chimney, and appeared weak and

dull. I lost sight of them during the day; but the following morning,

the weather being warm, I saw several flying about high up in the air.

There is some mystery about these things. Why have these late

appearances been more remarked this year than other years? How did the

birds obtain food during the three weeks of bitter cold weather when

they were not seen in October?"[132]

On the 10th of December 1843, a specimen of the Swallow, _an adult bird,

not a young of the season_, (an important circumstance,) in full plumage

and good condition, was shot at Goole, in the West Riding, and was sent

to Mr R. J. Bell, of Derby, a good ornithologist,[133] who records the

fact. In 1852, that excellent naturalist, Mr Hewitson, of Oatlands, saw

two Chimney-swallows at Eshar on the 18th of November, and on the 21st

had four martins about his house.[134] In 1855, Mr E. Vernon Harcourt

reports the occurrence of several Martins skimming about at Uckfield on

the 23d of November; and on the 6th of December several Chimney-swallows

about the house at Hastings.[135] In the same season flocks of Martins

were hawking vigorously, in the vicinity of Penzance, to the 28th of

November, as witnessed by Mr E. H. Rodd.[136] Captain Hadfield again,

writing in 1856, gives extracts from his journals, whereby he records

having seen Swallows and Martins as late as November 3, 1841, December

2, 1842, November 13, 1852, November 22, 1853, November (about the

middle) 1854, and November 24 (Swallows) and December 2 (Martins) 1855.

Of the last-mentioned occurrence he gives the following interesting

note:--"Dec. 2, 4 P.M. Observed eight Martins flying round the garden,

and occasionally alighting on the perpendicular face of the wall of a

house near my garden gate, to which they would cling for a few seconds,

and then, dropping off, whirl round, returning to the same spot,

seemingly quite unconscious of my presence and that of several others:

they seemed bent on effecting an entrance under the eaves of the house,

by a small opening they had discovered near a water-pipe that had been

carried through the wall: they were, I believe, all young birds of the

season, as they appeared small, their tails being also shorter than in

the adults; they were weak on the wing, but that may have arisen from

their being benumbed by the cold, the thermometer standing at 44 deg. only

at the above hour. There had been a bright sun during the greater part

of the day, but I had observed a white frost in the morning. I conclude

that these late birds were merely seeking a roosting-place for the

night, and not a place of concealment for the winter, although I might

have been excused, according to Cuvier, White, &c., had I thought they

were taking up their winter quarters; but I have not sufficient faith in

the theory to induce me to unslate a part of the roof to seek for them,

which might be done, however, at a trifling cost, provided permission

were obtained."[137]

It is rather a pity that the observer had not confidence enough to

induce him to make the investigation which he suggests.

Mr William Bree mentions as many as fifteen or twenty Martins and

Swallows sporting in the air near Temple Balsall on the 18th November

1846, adding that he has frequently seen individuals much later, but

never recollects to have seen so great a number together at that late

period. And, finally, Mr J. Johnston, jun., reports that he saw, in the

afternoon of 18th January 1837, three Swallows dipping and hawking as in

summer, near Wakefield.[138]

There is less evidence of the appearance of these birds before the

ordinary time of arrival of the migrants. But White, when a boy,

observed a Swallow for a whole day together on a sunny warm Shrove

Tuesday, which day could not fall out later than the middle of March,

and often happened early in February.[139] And Mr Samuel Gurney, jun.,

together with several other persons, saw either a Martin or Swallow, on

the 27th of March 1844.[140]

If this last occurrence had stood alone, it would have been of slight

importance; for Yarrell mentions a single Swallow as having been seen by

a fisherman near the Eddystone as early as the 4th of April; and

Sand-martins, even as far north as Carlisle, before the end of March. It

is just possible that these may have been stragglers of the great army

of migrants, arriving some ten or fifteen days before their time; but

considering the whole great array of evidence, I rather believe that

these too were hybernants, who had been prematurely awakened from

torpidity by unusually warm days.

The accounts of _Hirundines_ having been found in a somnolent state in

winter may or may not be true; though the great number of such

statements in various and distant countries makes the indiscriminate

rejection of them even more difficult than the acceptance. But still

there remains the undeniable fact that it is quite an ordinary thing for

birds of this family, including all our four common species, to be seen

with us through November and December, and occasionally in

January;--that is, for two or three months after the great body of

migrants have left the country. No one, I suppose, pretends that

migration of Swallows takes place in December or January; therefore it

is manifest that a certain number--more or fewer--remain. What becomes

of them? We certainly see them only occasionally: where are they on the

days on which they do not appear,--days extending to several consecutive

weeks? If they had not been torpid during those weeks, if the more

active functions of life had not been suspended, would they not

certainly have been starved? But the specimen shot on the 10th December,

and examined by Mr Bell, was in good condition, which is consistent with

but one alternative; either it had been well fed throughout the

preceding six weeks, or it had been hybernating. But the former

supposition implies that it had been habitually on the wing during that

period, as Swallows feed only on the wing; which could not have been the

case without its being noticed and recorded.

It is common to say that these occasional winter Swallows are the later

broods of young, which, being too infantile to migrate, are compelled to

linger in the country of their nativity, and becoming lethargic from the

advancing cold, at length die before the spring. But when this

hypothesis is looked at, it seems hardly tenable. In many of the

instances recorded, the specimens seen even late into the winter, are

represented as gaily and vigorously hawking for flies, or sweeping over

the water as in summer. This does not look like poor deserted orphans

starved with the cold, retiring to die; but birds in health, temporarily

awakened from normal slumber by an unusual temperature, and instantly

ready for a full use of their faculties. However, to settle the point by

fact, Mr Bell distinctly states that his specimen of December 10th was

"an adult bird, _not_ a young bird of the season."

If it should be asked why they do not appear in January or February, as

well as November and December, the answer is obvious. The winter's

lethargy of hybernating warm-blooded vertebrates is much more readily

interrupted in the earlier part of the season than in the middle and

latter part. And this is natural; for the more intense cold of January

benumbs and suspends the vital functions far more completely, and the

_coma_ so superinduced is sufficiently deep to resist the counteracting

influence of a few warm days, even though the temperature should be as

high as on those earlier days that awakened them, or even higher.

The aggregate evidence, then, seems to leave no room for reasonable

doubt, that a certain number of our _Hirundinidae_,--few, indeed, as

compared with the vast migrant population, but still considerable,

looked at _per se_,--for some reason or other, evade the task of a

southward flight, and remain, becoming torpid, occasionally betrayed

into a temporary activity, and resuming their active life, about the

same time, or occasionally a little _before_ the time, of the arrival of

their congeners from abroad. It is, however, desirable for the absolute

settlement of the question, that specimens, actually discovered in a

lethargic condition, should come under the observation of competent

scientific naturalists, _open to conviction_, who would leave them _in

situ_, keeping an eye on them from time to time till the return of warm

weather in spring. It is not enough to take them into a warm room, and

to shew that they revive in such circumstances: we want to know

positively whether they will be resuscitated normally and naturally by

the vernal warmth, and come forth spontaneously to sport, and wheel, and

skim, and soar, and stoop, and hawk, and twitter,--among their travelled

fellows. Who will undertake to decide the point in this manner? He will

have achieved a name in science.

[113] _Phys. Theol._, vii., Note _d_.

[114] _Regne Anim._, (Griffith's Ed.,) vii. 61.

[115] _Phil. Trans._, 1763.

[116] _Letter_ x.

[117] Stanley's _Fam. Hist. of Birds_, p. 263.

[118] _Edin. Journ._, viii.

[119] In Pennant's _Brit. Zool._

[120] _Brit. Zool._, App.

[121] _Zool._, 1136.

[122] Ibid., 2302.

[123] _Zool._, 2590.

[124] _Letter_ xxxviii.

[125] Ibid. xii.

[126] Ibid. xi.

[127] Ibid. xxxi.

[128] _Letter_ xxiii.

[129] _Orn. Dict._, Introd., xxvii.

[130] _Zool._, 5364.

[131] _Brit. Birds_, ii. 264.

[132] _Zool._, 2455.

[133] Ibid., 565.

[134] Ibid., 3753.

[135] _Zool._, 4945.

[136] Ibid., 4945.

[137] _Zool._, 4995.

[138] Ibid. 1639.

[139] _Letter_ xviii., 2d ser.

[140] _Zool._, 565.

VI.

THE CRESTED AND WATTLED SNAKE.

The romance of natural history, second series · 第 13 / 25 段