The Fieldfare is little inferior in size to the Missel Thrush, with

which, however, it is not likely to be confounded even at a distance,

owing to the predominant bluish tinge of its upper plumage. In the

west of England, where the Thrush is called the Grey-bird, to

distinguish it from its ally the Blackbird, the Fieldfare is known by

the name of Bluebird, to distinguish it from both. It is a migratory

bird, spending its summer, and breeding, in the north of Europe, and

paying us an annual visit in October or November. But it is impatient

of cold, even with us, for in winters of unusual severity it migrates

yet farther south, and drops in upon our meadows a second time in the

spring, when on its way to its summer quarters. Fieldfares are

eminently gregarious; not only do they arrive at our shores and depart

from them in flocks, but they keep together as long as they remain,

nor do they dissolve their society on their return to the north, but

build their nests many together in the same wood. In this country,

they are wild and cautious birds, resorting during open weather to

watercourses and damp pastures, where they feed on worms and insects,

and when frost sets in betaking themselves to bushes in quest of haws

and other berries; or in very severe weather resorting to the muddy or

sandy sea-shore. They frequent also commons on which the Juniper

abounds, the berries of this shrub affording them an abundant banquet.

Unlike the Blackbird and Thrush, they rarely seek for food under

hedges, but keep near the middle of fields, as if afraid of being

molested by some concealed enemy. When alarmed, they either take

refuge in the branches of a high tree in the neighbourhood, or remove

altogether to a distant field. The song of the Fieldfare I have never

heard: Toussenel doubts whether it has any; Yarrell describes it as

'soft and melodious'; Bechstein as 'a mere harsh disagreeable warble';

while a writer in the _Zoologist_ who heard one sing during the mild

January of 1846, in Devon, describes it as 'combining the melodious

whistle of the Blackbird with the powerful voice of the Mistle

Thrush'. Its call-note is short and harsh, and has in France given it

the provincial names of Tia-tia and Tchatcha. This latter name accords

with Macgillivray's mode of spelling its note, _yack chuck_, harsh

enough, no one will deny. 'Our attention was attracted by the harsh

cries of several birds which we at first supposed must be Shrikes, but

which afterwards proved to be Fieldfares. We were now delighted by the

discovery of several of their nests, and were surprised to find them

(so contrary to the habits of other species of the genus with which we

are acquainted) breeding in society. Their nests were at various

heights from the ground, from four to thirty or forty feet or upwards;

they were, for the most part, placed against the trunk of the Spruce

Fir; some were, however, at a considerable distance from it, upon the

upper surface and towards the smaller end of the thicker branches:

they resembled most nearly those of the Ring Ouzel; the outside is

composed of sticks and coarse grass and weeds gathered wet, matted

with a small quantity of clay, and lined with a thick bed of fine dry

grass: none of them yet contained more than three eggs, although we

afterwards found that five was more commonly the number than four, and

that even six was very frequent; they are very similar to those of the

Blackbird, and even more so to the Ring Ouzel. The Fieldfare is the

most abundant bird in Norway, and is generally diffused over that part

which we visited, building, as already noticed, in society; two

hundred nests or more being frequently seen within a very small

space.' Oddly enough two hundred was just the number of a colony of

nests in Thüringen on the estate of Baron von Berlepsch, which were

those of Fieldfares he had induced to come by trimming the trunks of a

long row of Black Poplar trees so as to afford good sites for the

nests. The present editor visited these in 1906. Some few instances

are on record of the Fieldfare breeding in this country, but these are

exceptional. In general they leave us in April and May, though they

have been observed as late as the beginning of June.

THE BLACKBIRD

TURDUS MERULA

_Male_--plumage wholly black; bill and orbits of the eyes

orange yellow; feet black. _Female_--upper plumage sooty

brown; throat pale brown with darker spots; breast reddish

brown passing into dark ash brown; bill and legs dusky. Length

ten inches; breadth sixteen inches. Eggs greenish grey,

spotted and speckled with light red brown.

With his glossy coat and yellow beak the Blackbird is a handsomer bird

than the Thrush; his food is much the same: he builds his nest in

similar places; he is a great glutton when gooseberries are ripe, and

his rich mellow song is highly inspiriting. But he is suspicious and

wary; however hard pressed he may be by hunger, you will rarely see

him hunting for food in the open field. He prefers the solitude and

privacy of 'the bush'. In a furze-brake, a coppice, a wooded

watercourse, or a thick hedgerow, he chooses his feeding ground, and

allows no sort of partnership. Approach his haunt, and if he simply

mistrusts you, he darts out flying close to the ground, pursues his

course some twenty yards and dips again into the thicket, issuing most

probably on the other side, and ceasing not until he has placed what

he considers a safe distance between himself and his enemy. But with

all his cunning he fails in prudence; it is not in his nature to steal

away silently. If he only suspects that all is not right, he utters

repeatedly a low cluck, which seems to say, 'This is no place for me,

I must be off'. But if he is positively alarmed, his loud vociferous

cry rings out like a bell, informing all whom it may concern that

'danger is at hand, and it behoves all who value their safety to fly'.

Most animals understand the cry in this sense, and catch the alarm.

Many a time has the deer-stalker been disappointed of a shot, who,

after traversing half a mile on his hands and knees between rocks and

shrubs, has just before the critical moment of action started some

ill-omened Blackbird. Out bursts the frantic alarum, heard at a great

distance; the intended victim catches the alarm, once snuffs the air

to discover in what direction the foe lies concealed, and bounds to a

place of security. A somewhat similar note, not, however, indicative

of terror, real or imagined, is uttered when the bird is about to

retire for the night, and this at all seasons of the year. He would

merit, therefore, the title of 'Bellman of the woods'. Neither of

these sounds is to be confounded with the true _song_ of the

Blackbird. This is a full, melodious, joyful carol, many of the notes

being remarkable for their flute-like tone--'the whistling of the

Blackbird'--and varying greatly in their order of repetition; though I

am inclined to believe that most birds of this kind have a favourite

passage, which they repeat at intervals many times during the same

performance.

PLATES TO BLACKBIRD.

1. A nest and eggs.

2. The young just emerged from the egg and an egg (June 1).

3. The day after hatching (June 2).

4. Four days later (June 4).

5. Sixth day out (June 5).

6. Ninth day out.

7. Eleventh day out.

8. Fourteenth day out.

We would draw attention to the extraordinary size of the bird

just out as compared with the egg. On the sixth day the

feather shafts with the tips of the encased feathers sticking

out of them are quite formed, although two days earlier they

were hardly more than indicated. On the ninth day feathers

nearly cover the whole of the skin--on the eleventh day they

do this completely. In No. 8 the bird was drawn after it had

flown from the nest.

[Illustration:

Blackbirds Nest and Eggs Just Hatched.

Day after.

4th Day.

6th Day.

9th Day.

11th Day.

Blackbird, 14th day.

[_face p. 8._]]

[Illustration:

Stonechat [F] [M]

Whinchat Black Redstart [F] [M]

Redstart [M] [F]]

The song of the Blackbird does not meet the approbation of

bird-fanciers: 'It is not destitute of melody,' says Bechstein, 'but

it is broken by noisy tones, and is agreeable only in the open

country'. The art of teaching the Blackbird is of old date, for we

find in Pepys' Diary, May 22, 1663, the following passage: 'Rendall,

the house carpenter at Deptford, hath sent me a fine Blackbird, which

I went to see. He tells me he was offered twenty shillings for him as

he came along, he do so whistle. 23d. Waked this morning between four

and five by my Blackbird, which whistled as well as ever I heard any;

only it is the beginning of many tunes very well, but then leaves them

and goes no further.'

The song of the Blackbird is occasionally heard during the mild days

of winter, but it is not until spring sets in that it can be said to

be in full, uninterrupted song. It then repairs to some thick bush or

hedge, especially at the corner of a pond, and builds its nest, a

bulky structure, the framework of which is composed of twigs and

roots; within is a thin layer of mud lined with small fibrous roots,

bents, and moss. The nest contains four or five eggs, and the young

birds are fed with worms. In the breeding season Blackbirds are far

more venturesome than at any other time, as they frequently select a

garden in which to build their nest, with the double object, perhaps,

of procuring plenty of worms for their nestlings, and of launching

them when fledged where they will have great facilities for regaling

themselves on summer fruits. In such localities the appearance of a

cat near their nest greatly excites their wrath. From being timid they

become very courageous, scolding with all their might, darting down so

near as almost to dash in her face, and generally ending by compelling

her to beat a retreat.

The female Blackbird differs materially from the male, its plumage

being of a dingy brown hue, the breast light and spotted, the beak

dark brown with yellowish edges. White and pied specimens of both

sexes are occasionally met with. In a district of France not far from

Paris they are very numerous, and here the title to a certain estate

used to be kept up by the annual presentation of a white Blackbird to

the lord of the manor. Large flocks from the Continent visit us in the

autumn and winter.

THE RING OUZEL

TURDUS TORQUATUS

Plumage black edged with greyish white; a large

crescent-shaped pure white spot on the throat; bill and legs

dusky. _Female_ with the gorget smaller and tinged with red

and grey, and the rest of the plumage greyer. Length ten

inches. Eggs greenish white, spotted with reddish brown and

grey.

Ring Ouzel is hardly an appropriate name for this bird; for in reality

it does not wear a ring round its neck, but a white gorget on its

breast, the contrast between which and its black plumage is very

striking. It frequents the mountainous parts of Scotland and hilly

parts of Derbyshire, and other wild parts where moors and hills are.

Though never so abundant as the Blackbird and Thrush are in the

plains, it is far from uncommon. It is a migratory bird, arriving in

this country in April, and returning to its southern winter

quarters--Corsica and other islands of the Mediterranean--early in

autumn; not so early, however, as to miss the vintage season of the

south of Europe. In summer it travels as far north as Sweden and

Norway, where, on the authority of Mr. Hewitson, it is often seen

'enlivening the most bleak and desolate islands with its sweet song.

It shares with the Redwing the name of Nightingale, and often

delighted us in our midnight visits amongst the islands.' Its habits

and food while it remains with us are very similar to those of the

Blackbird, and its nest, generally built among stones and bushes, near

the ground, is constructed of the same materials with the nest of that

bird. Towards the end of their sojourn in Britain, Ring Ouzels descend

to the level countries, and are not unfrequently met with in gardens,

whither they repair for the sake of feeding on fruit and berries. In

form and movements the Ring Ouzel is a more elegantly shaped bird than

the Blackbird.

THE WHEATEAR (STONE-SMATCH)[2]

SAXÍCOLA OENANTHÉ

Upper parts, in autumn reddish brown, in spring bluish grey;

wings and wing-coverts, centre and extremity of the tail, legs

and feet, bill and area which comprises the nostrils, eyes and

ears, black; base and lower portion of the side of the tail

pure white; the chin, forehead, stripe over the eyes, and

under parts are also white, and in autumn the tail-feathers

are also tipped with white. _Female_--upper parts ash-brown,

tinged with yellow; stripe over the eyes dingy; all the

colours less bright. Length six and a half inches; breadth

twelve inches. Eggs pale bluish green.

During a considerable portion of its stay with us, open downs near

the sea are the favourite resort of this lively bird, to which it

repairs from its transmarine winter quarters towards the second week

of March. Here it may be seen for several weeks flitting from rock to

rock, and occasionally soaring to the height of about twenty yards

into the air, warbling from time to time its pleasant song, now aloft,

and now restlessly perched on a rock, or bank, or low stone wall,

calling _chack-chack_--and making itself all the more welcome that few

others among our summer visitants have as yet recovered their voices.

We need not suppose that Wheatears prolong their stay on the coast in

order to rest after their voyage. More probably they make marine

insects (for these are abundant even in early spring) the principal

portion of their food, and are taught, by the same instinct which

guided them across the sea, to remain where their wants will be fully

supplied until land insects have emerged from their winter quarters.

As the season advances many of them proceed inland, and repair to

barren districts, whether mountainous or lowland, where they may enjoy

a considerable expanse without any great admixture of trees. A wide

common studded with blocks of stone, a rabbit-warren or sloping

upland, is likely to be more or less thickly peopled by these shy

birds. Shy we term them, because, disposed as they are to be social

among themselves (especially in spring and autumn), they are with

respect to other birds most exclusive. Travelling through the waste

lands of England, one may sometimes go on for miles and see no winged

creatures but an occasional Wheatear, which, with dipping flight, made

conspicuous by the snow-white spot at the base of its tail, shoots

ahead of us some thirty or forty yards, alights on a stone, and, after

a few uneasy upward and downward movements of its tail, starts off

again to repeat the same manœuvre, until we begin to wonder what

tempts it to stray away so far from home. It does not ordinarily sing

during these excursions, but utters its occasional note, very

different from its spring song. It builds its nest of grass, moss, and

leaves, and lines it with hair or wool, selecting some very secret

spot on the ground, a deserted rabbit-burrow or cavity under a rock,

where, beyond the reach of any but the most cunning marauder, it lays

five or six eggs. Early in August, when the young are fully fledged,

the scattered colonies of Wheatears assemble for emigration on open

downs near the sea. We have seen a good many of them on the sandy

coast of Norfolk and of North Hales; but it is on the extensive downs

of Sussex that they collect in the largest numbers, not in flocks, but

in parties of six or eight; each party perhaps constituting a family.

They here retain their shy habits of flying off at the approach of a

human being, and are often seen to drop suddenly, where they may

remain concealed from sight behind a stone, furze-bush or bank. The

shepherds and others, whose vocation lies on the downs, used to take

advantage of the habit of these birds to conceal themselves, and

construct a multitude of simple but efficacious traps in which they

capture large numbers. The method which they adopted was to cut out

from the sward an oblong piece of turf about the size of a brick,

which they inverted over the hole from which it was taken so as to

form a cross. Beneath this are placed two running nooses of horsehair,

in which the poor bird, when it takes refuge in one of the open ends

of the hole for concealment, is easily snared. The birds being in fine

condition at this season--having, in fact, fattened themselves

previously to undertaking their long sea voyage--are highly prized as

a dainty article of food. It was formerly the custom for persons who

wanted a dish of Wheatears to supply themselves from the traps,

placing a penny in every hole from which they took a bird; but

afterwards the influx of visitors to the neighbouring watering-places

so much enhanced their value, that the shepherds allowed no such

interference. We once tried the experiment of releasing a bird and

depositing the penny-piece in the trap, when, from a neighbouring

eminence, we were assailed with such a torrent of abuse, that we

declined repeating the experiment. In September, all who have escaped

the sportsman and fowler wing their way to southern lands. It is

thought that the autumnal flocks are partially composed of birds on

their way from high latitudes, which stop to recruit their strength on

the South-downs previous to final emigration.

[2] Stone-smatch in Yorkshire--from the Saxon, Steinschmätzer

in German.

THE WHINCHAT

PRATÍNCOLA RUBÉTRA

Upper plumage dusky brown, edged with reddish yellow; over the

eye a broad white streak; throat and sides of the neck white;

neck and breast bright yellowish red; a large white spot on

the wings and base of the tail; extremity of the latter and

the whole of the two central feathers dusky brown; abdomen and

flanks yellowish white. _Female_--yellowish white wherever the

_male_ is pure white; the white spot on the wings smaller; the

red parts dingy. Length five inches; breadth nine inches. Eggs

bluish green, often minutely speckled with light brownish red.

A great deal that we have said of the Stonechat, will apply equally to

the Whinchat, as the two birds much resemble each other in character,

size, and habits. There is this difference, however, between them,

that a considerable number of Stonechats remain in Britain during the

winter, whereas the Whinchats, almost to a bird, leave our shores in

the autumn. The latter is by no means so common, and is rarely seen

except in wild places where the shrub is abundant from which it

derives its name of Whinchat, or Furzechat. For a small bird to have

black legs is, it seems, considered in France an indication of

peculiar delicacy of flesh. Both of these birds, therefore,

notwithstanding their diminutive size, are much sought after for the

table. Both are of restless habits, delighting to perch on the summit

of a furze-bush, where they keep the tail in constant motion,

occasionally spring into the air after an insect, and then dart off

with a dipping flight to another post of advantage. They repeat the

call of ü-_tick_! and their short and simple song, both while at rest

and on the wing; but they are not musical, and 'their flesh is

generally more esteemed than their song.' The Whinchat may be

distinguished at a considerable distance by the white streak over the

eye. Both nest and eggs of the two species are very similar.

THE STONECHAT

PRATÍNCOLA RUBÍCOLA

Head, throat, bill and legs, black; sides of the neck near the

wing, tertial wing-coverts and rump, white; breast bright

chestnut-red, shaded into yellowish white towards the tail;

feathers of the back, wings and tail, black, with reddish

brown edges. _Female_--feathers of the head and upper parts

dusky brown, edged with yellowish red; throat black, with

small whitish and reddish spots; less white in the wings and

tail; the red of the breast dull. Length five and a quarter

inches; breadth eight and a half inches. Eggs pale blue, the

larger end often faintly speckled with reddish brown.

We can scarcely pass through a furze-brake during the spring and

summer months, without having the presence of the Stonechat almost

forced on our notice. I am acquainted with no small bird whose habits

are more marked, or more easily observed. Not even does the Skylark

build its nest more invariably on the ground, and 'soaring sings, and

singing soars', than does the Stonechat build its nest in a

furze-bush, and perch on the topmost twigs of shrubs. In the breeding

season, too, it seems not to wander far from its home: we know

therefore where a pair are to be found at any time; and they allow us

to approach so close to them, that we can readily distinguish them by

the tints of their plumage.

The nest of the pair may be within a few yards of the spot on which we

are standing; but the exact locality no one knows, nor is likely to

know but itself. The male is a beautiful creature, with a black head,

red breast, and several patches of pure white on its wings, the female

much more sober in her attire. Their purpose is evidently to distract

our attention from their nest. One is clinging to the top of a

Juniper, where he fidgets about uttering his _twit-click-click_, which

you can easily imitate by whistling once sharply and knocking two

stones together twice in rapid succession. The other is perched on the

top spine of a furze-bush--they are aspiring birds and must settle on

the _top_ of whatever they alight on, be it only a dock. Now one dips

down and is lost for a few seconds, to appear again, however, directly

on the summit of another bush; now they are on our right hand, now on

our left; now before us, and then behind. Are they describing a circle

round their nest for a centre, or are they trying to trick us into

the belief that they are better worth caring for than their young

ones, and may be caught if we will only be silly enough to chase them?

I do not know; but whatever their thoughts may be, _we_ certainly are

in them, and as certainly they are not delighted at our presence. We

walk on, and suddenly they are gone; but presently we encounter

another pair of the same birds, who if we loiter about will treat us

in exactly the same way, but, if we pass on steadily, will take little

notice of us.

We have little more to say of the Stonechat. It is not often heard to

sing; the reason probably being that, when listeners are in the way,

it is too anxious about its nest to be musical. Its food is

principally insects, which it often catches on the wing. In winter

(for they do not all leave us at this season) it feeds on worms, etc.

Its nest is remarkable more from its size and position (usually in the

centre of a furze-bush), than for neatness of structure. It lays five

eggs. Its name Rubícola denotes a dweller among brambles, and is by no

means inappropriate, as it rarely perches on any bush exceeding a

bramble in size. Its names Stonechat, Stoneclink or Stonechatter, are

evidently to be traced to the similarity between its note of alarm and

the striking together of two pebbles.

THE REDSTART

RUTICILLA PHOENICURA

Forehead white; throat black; head and upper part of the back

bluish grey; breast, tail-coverts and tail (except the two

central feathers, which are brown), bright rust-red; second

primary equal to the sixth. _Female_--upper parts grey, tinged

with red; larger wing-coverts edged with yellowish red; throat

and abdomen whitish; breast, flanks, and under tail-coverts,

pale red. Length, five inches and a quarter. Eggs uniform

blue.

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