on one of his call-birds (a linnet), and attempted to carry it off;
but being prevented from doing so by the linnet being fastened to the
ground by a string and wooden peg, the Shrike tore off the head of its
victim, with which it made its escape. The bird-catcher then drew out
from the ground the peg which held down the linnet, and left the dead
bird lying in the net. In about half an hour the Shrike again
appeared, pounced upon the body of the dead linnet, and carried it off
in its beak, with the string and peg hanging to it; the weight of the
latter was probably the cause of the Shrike not carrying its prey
quite away, as it dropped it after flying about fifteen yards, when
the bird-catcher again picked up the dead linnet, and replaced it in
the net. The Shrike in the meantime retreated to some neighbouring
bushes, from which it soon made a third pounce upon the nets, this
time attacking the second call-bird, which was a sparrow. On this
occasion, however, the bird-catcher was on the watch, and, drawing his
nets, captured the Shrike, which proved to be an adult female. This
daring act was observed late in the month of June, when, perhaps, the
courage of the mother bird was unusually excited by the cravings of
her brood at home, and further stimulated by the impression that the
call-birds were in trouble, and consequently offered an easy prey.
An amiable trait in the character of this Shrike is its attachment to
its mate and young. A female has been known to approach so close to
the cage in which her captured lord was confined, that she was herself
easily taken; and when a nest of young birds is molested, both parents
defend their offspring with astonishing intrepidity.
The Red-backed Shrike is known to us only as a summer visitor,
departing early in autumn. Its note is a harsh _chuck!_ but the song
of the mate is somewhat pleasant.
WOODCHAT SHRIKE
LÁNIUS POMERÁNUS
Forehead and cheeks black; nape bright rust colour; back and
wings variegated with black, white, and reddish brown; under
parts white; outer tail feathers white, with a square black
spot at the base on the inner web, the two next with the black
spot larger, and on both webs, the two middle ones wholly
black, the rest black tipped with white; tail slightly rounded;
second primary equal in length to the fifth. _Female_--all her
colours dingy; breast marked transversely with fine brown
lines. Length, seven and a half inches. Eggs bluish white,
spotted at the larger end with brown and ash-grey.
The habits of this bird, which is a very rare visitant to the British
Isles, differ in no material respect from those of the foregoing
species. On the Continent it is more frequent in the south than the
north, where it frequents trees rather than bushes, and generally
places its nest, which it constructs of twigs, moss, and white lichen,
in the forked branch of an oak. Like the rest of the family it is
migratory, coming and departing at the same time as the other species.
FAMILY AMPELIDÆ
THE WAXWING
ÁMPELIS GÁRRULUS
Feathers of the head elongated, forming a crest; upper plumage
purplish red; lower the same, but of a lighter tint; throat and
lore black; greater wing-coverts black, tipped with white;
primaries black, with a yellow or white angular spot near the
extremity, six or eight of the secondaries and tertiaries
having the shaft prolonged and terminating in a substance
resembling red sealing-wax; tail black, tipped with yellow.
Length eight inches. Eggs pale blue, with a few streaks of
brown and lilac.
The Waxwing is an elegant bird, of about the size of a Thrush. It
visits this country, and in fact every other European country where it
is known at all, at irregular intervals, generally in flocks, which
vary in number from eight or ten to some scores. Thus it is everywhere
a stranger; and little was known till recently of its nesting habits.
It is perhaps on account of this ignorance of its natural history,
that it has borne a variety of names which are as inappropriate as
possible. Temminck describes it under the name Bombycivora, or
devourer of Bombyx, a large moth, a name quite unfit for a bird which
lives exclusively on fruits and berries. This was softened into
Bombycilla, which means, I presume, a little Bombyx, though the bird
in question is far larger than any known moth. Its French name
_Jaseur_, equivalent to the English one, Chatterer, is quite as
inappropriate, as it is singularly silent. In default of all certain
information, then, I venture to surmise that, coming in parties no one
knows whence, and going no one knows whither, they may have received
the name Bohemian, because they resemble in their habits the wandering
tribes of gypsies, who were formerly called indifferently Egyptians
and Bohemians. Taken in this sense, the Bohemian or _Wandering_
Waxwing, as it used to be called, is a name open to no exception. The
plumage of the bird is silky, and that of the head is remarkable for
forming a crest, and being capable of being elevated, as in the
Cardinal. Its black gorget and tiara, the patches of white, yellow,
and black described above, make it very conspicuous for colouring, and
the singularity of its appearance is much increased by the appendages
to its secondaries and tertiaries, which resemble in colour and
substance red sealing-wax. In very old birds these waxen appendages
are also to be found at the extremities of the tail-feathers, being no
more than the shafts of the feathers, condensed with the web. In its
habits the Waxwing resembles the Tits. It feeds on insects, fruit,
berries, and seeds. Its call-note is a twitter, which it rarely
utters, except when taking flight and alighting. The Waxwing is a
northern bird, and Dr. Richardson, the Arctic traveller, informs us
that he one day saw a flock, consisting of three or four hundred
birds, alight on one or two trees in a grove of poplars, making a loud
twittering noise. One of its German names, _Schneevogel_ (snowbird),
was evidently given in this belief. It is sometimes caught and caged,
but has nothing but its beautiful colouring to recommend it. It is a
stupid lazy bird, occupied only in eating and reposing for digestion.
Its song is weak and uncertain.
FAMILY MUSCICAPIDÆ
MUSCICAPIDÆ.--Nostrils more or less covered by bristly hairs
THE SPOTTED FLYCATCHER
MUSCÍCAPA GRÍSOLA
Upper plumage ash-brown; feathers of the head marked with a
central dark line; under parts white, the sides marked with
longitudinal brown streaks; flanks tinged with red. Length six
inches; breadth ten inches. Eggs bluish white, mottled with
reddish spots, which are deepest in colour towards the larger
end.
There are few birds with whose haunts and habits we are more familiar
than those of the common Flycatcher. In the wooded parts of England
there is scarcely a country house, perhaps, which has not in its
neighbourhood at least a single pair of these birds, who, though their
stay with us is but short, become as necessary appendages of the
garden during the summer months as the Redbreast is in winter. They
have neither song to recommend them nor brilliancy of colouring; yet
the absence of these qualities is more than compensated by the
confidence they repose in the innocent intentions of the human beings
whose protection they claim, by their strong local attachments, and by
their unceasing activity in the pursuit of flying insects. At any time
during the months of June, July, and August, in most country and
suburban gardens, one may observe perched on a railing, standard rose,
or the low branch of an apple-tree, a small brownish bird, with a
speckled breast, about the size of a Sparrow, but more slender in
form, taking no notice of human beings, but nevertheless evidently on
the look-out for something. Suddenly it darts from its position, flies
rapidly forwards for a few yards, performs an evolution in the air,
and returns either to the exact spot which it had previously occupied
or to a similar one hard by. After a rest of a few seconds, it
performs the same manuvre, and always with the same object and
success. Every time it quitted its perch, some ill-fated fly or beetle
was discovered, winging its way through the air, and captured to be
devoured on the spot, or to form part of a pellet of insect food for a
hungry nestling. The nest, composed of moss, straws, and hair, and
lined with feathers, is usually placed either against a wall, hidden
by the leaves of a trained fruit-tree, or on the horizontal bough of a
standard apple-tree. During the year 1859, a pair of these birds had
taken up their quarters in my own garden in a situation such as that
first described, but becoming dissatisfied with the locality even
after the nest had received its complement of eggs--five--deserted it,
and built another nest in an apple-tree a few yards off, choosing a
position on a short branch, where their workmanship was concealed from
the sight of passengers by a cluster of large apples. The bough
overhung a path by which many persons passed to and fro every day; but
the nest was built, and the old birds hatched their eggs, neither
noticed nor noticing, until one day when I happened to stop
underneath, upon which the bird took flight, and so revealed her place
of retreat. I do not mention this incident as anything remarkable, but
simply to exemplify the habits of the bird when it has taken up its
residence in a frequented garden, and in contrast with its treatment
of intruders when it has chosen a more secluded spot for a home. A few
days after, I happened to be fly-fishing on the bank of a stream close
to which grew some tall elm-trees. Under one of these I was pursuing
my amusement, when a flycatcher darted from a tree on the opposite
side of the stream, and flew so close to my face that to dip my head
out of the way was unavoidable. The same movement was repeated again
and again, making it impossible for me to persist. Suspecting that
there was a nest somewhere very near me, I looked up and discovered,
within a few inches of my head, a nest built against the hole of the
tree, and containing four or five nearly fledged young ones, whose
heads and breasts projected considerably beyond the edge of their
mossy cradle. As I moved away, the parent bird hopped about uneasily
in a neighbouring tree, uttering its monotonous and unmusical chirrup,
but molested me no further. It would seem then that the garden bird,
grown familiar with the human form, was unsuspicious of danger, while
the other, who had not been accustomed to see her sanctuary
approached, immediately took alarm. It is supposed that the same birds
are in the habit of returning annually to their old resort. Both the
above incidents tend to give weight to this opinion: one of the birds
having been reared, probably in the garden, and so having been
accustomed to the sight of men from the first; the other having been
always a recluse. The fact which fell under my own notice, that a nest
was built, and a brood reared for three successive years in exactly
the same spot, is, I think, conclusive evidence that either the same
birds or their immediate descendants were the architects, it being
scarcely credible that three several pairs of birds should have fixed
on the same spot by accident. Mr. Denham Weir has observed that the
Spotted Flycatcher consumes only a day and a half in the construction
of its nest, and that a pair of birds which he watched fed their young
no less than five hundred and thirty-seven times in one day, beginning
at twenty-five minutes before four o'clock in the morning, and ending
at ten minutes before nine in the evening. The young birds assume the
adult plumage in their first year, and soon learn to hawk for their
prey as well as their parents. I have recorded elsewhere an instance
in which the parent birds contrived to feed a disabled young one after
it had left the nest. The Flycatcher arrives in England about the end
of April, and leaves about the end of September.
THE PIED FLYCATCHER
MUSCÍCAPA ATRICAPILLA
Upper plumage and tail black, the wings black, with the central
coverts white; scapulars edged with white; under plumage white.
In the _female_ the black is replaced by greyish brown, the
white is dingy, and the three lateral tail feathers are edged
with white. Length five inches. Eggs pale blue, generally
without spots.
The Pied Flycatcher, so called from its feathers being varied with
black and white, is a smaller bird than the preceding, and by no means
so common, being very local as a breeder. It appears, indeed, to be
mainly confined to the northern counties of England, where it arrives
about the middle of April, and builds its nest of dry leaves, small
roots, grass, and a little hair, loosely put together, in the hole of
a tree. There it lays from five to seven pale blue eggs, very like,
both in size and colour, those of the Redstart, which it also much
resembles in habits. It has more claim to be considered a songster
than the Spotted Flycatcher. In places where it is frequent it is
often observed to settle on the decayed stump of a tree, constantly
repeating its short, little varied, but far from unpleasing song,
every now and then interrupted by the pursuit and capture of some
passing insect. It is said also to be very noisy and clamorous when
its nest is approached. It quits our shores in September.
FAMILY HIRUNDINIDÆ
THE SWALLOW
HIRUNDO RÚSTICA
Forehead and throat chestnut-brown; upper parts, sides of the
neck, and a bar across the breast black, with violet
reflections; lower parts dull reddish white; tail very long and
forked. _Female_--with less red on the forehead and less black
on the breast; under parts whiter; outer tail-feathers shorter.
Length six inches and a half, width thirteen inches and a
quarter. Eggs white, spotted with brown and dark red.
There are many features in the life of the Swallow so prominent, that
no undomesticated bird is more thoroughly known. Like the Sparrow, it
accompanies man wherever he fixes his dwelling; but, unlike the
Sparrow, it is liable to be mistaken for no other bird; its flight is
peculiar and all but ceaseless; at least, it is rarely seen except in
motion; and it is absent during the greater portion of the year, so
giving to itself a twofold notoriety, being regretted at the season of
its departure and welcomed at its return. These three circumstances,
its migratory habits, its mode of flight, and attachment to the
dwellings of man, have been the cause why, in all ages, it has been
invested with especial interest. Its return is universally greeted as
prophetic of summer weather; the very proverb that 'one Swallow does
not make a summer', only indicates a popular belief; and its departure
is among the first intimations of approaching winter. The Swallow
consequently is the type of migratory birds; if the Swallow is come,
all take it for granted that the other summer birds have arrived, and
when its twitter is no longer heard, we know that all the other birds
of passage are gone or going. Of the Swallow, therefore, it is said
pre-eminently, "God sends us the Swallow in the first days of summer,
to relieve us of the insects which the summer suns are calling into
life. The home of the Swallow is all the habitable earth; it knows
nothing of winter or winter's cold." In remote ages the Swallow was
considered to be endowed with supernatural intelligence; it refused to
build its nest in a certain town because it was polluted with crime;
in another, because it had been frequently burnt down; it foretold
tempests; and, above all, it was noted for having taught men the
healing properties of a certain herb,[12] by employing it to give
sight to its young. Not only was it thus skilled in the healing art,
but was in itself a medicine of no ordinary virtue. Even in the time
of our countryman Ray, not two hundred years ago, its efficacy in
various complaints was seriously believed: the whole body burnt was
considered a specific for weak eyes, quinsy and inflamed uvula; the
heart was prescribed in epilepsy and in quartan ague, it was good also
for strengthening the memory; the blood was good for the eyes,
especially if drawn from under the right wing: a little stone
sometimes found in the stomach of young birds, called _chelidonius_,
tied to the arm, or hung around the neck, was a remedy against
children's fits. This was to be searched for before or at the August
full moon, in the eldest of a brood. Even the nest had its virtues,
being, if applied externally, good for quinsy, redness of the eyes,
and the bite of a viper.
A century later 'good old White' published his account of the Swallow,
to which the reader is referred as an admirable model of
bird-biography, not only for the age, but as an authentic history full
of fresh interest to the reader in all ages. The only point on which
White had doubts was whether Swallows all migrate, or whether some of
the young do not occasionally stay behind, and hibernate in hollow
trees, holes of rocks, and the banks of pools and rivers. Individuals
are said to occasionally remain, perhaps in consequence of having been
disabled by accident at the season when the migratory instinct was in
its active force, or from some other cause unknown to us. Several
instances of such have been recorded by authors who, whether accurate
observers or not, certainly believed that they were reporting truly.
That they were seen only on warm days is of course no evidence that
they had been roused from a state of torpor by the unusual warmth.
Sunny days in winter tempt people to walk abroad and to resort to the
same places which winter-gnats would choose for their gambols. Here,
too, the stray Swallow would be found; but in dark stormy weather the
gnats and the Swallow would stay at home, and the ornithologist would
have little temptation to do otherwise. I happen to be myself among
the number of those who on personal evidence believe that individual
Swallows do remain in England long after the period of general
migration. I was walking through a limestone quarry at Saltram on the
bank of the Plym, in Devonshire, many years ago, on the twenty-fourth
of December, when I saw a Swallow, whether a Chimney Swallow or
Martin, I cannot positively affirm, wheeling about, and evidently
hawking for gnats near the face of the cliff. The season was a mild
one, the air still, and the sun shining brightly against the limestone
rocks, from which much heat was reflected. That the bird had been kept
in captivity until the migratory season had passed and then released
is not probable. On any other supposition it must have remained either
of its own free will, which is not likely, or from incapacity to
accompany its congeners. Left alone it probably found a sheltered
retreat in the face of the cliff, and sallied forth whenever the
weather was inviting, making the most of the short days, and, on the
finest, contenting itself with a scanty meal. The temperature of the
west of England in winter it is quite able to bear; in fact, it is
not uncommon there for a whole winter to pass without any weather so
severe as that which has characterized the whole of the present April
(1860), though Swallows have returned, and contrive to find food
enough to keep themselves alive. If, therefore, the bird which I saw
managed to live on till Christmas Eve, there is no reason why it
should not survive the whole of the winter. But as 'one Swallow does
not make a spring', so neither is one sufficient to upset a theory.
There remains, therefore, the rule with the one exception to prove it,
that Swallows do migrate. A full account of all that has since been
learnt of the Swallow's history will be found in Yarrell's _British
Birds_. For the sake of reference only I will add a short summary of
what I may term its statistics. The Swallow is a migratory bird
wherever it is found, that is in most of the countries of Europe,
Asia, and Africa. The first Swallows arrive in this country about the
eleventh of April, and are followed by others at various intervals,
until the middle or end of May. On their arrival, they resort to those
places which, being most sheltered, abound most in winged insects,
these being frequently the courses of rivers and canals. As the season
advances, they spread themselves more generally over the country,
still, however, being most numerous in the vicinity of water. In May
they build their shallow open nests of mud and straw lined with
feathers, a few feet down a chimney, in an outhouse, a bell-tower, the
shaft of a deserted mine, or any other place which is at once dry and
dark, rarely in more exposed places. They lay four or five eggs, and
rear two or three broods in a season. The young being, from the usual
situation of the nest, unable to leave their nursery until they are
fully fledged, require to be fed a long time, but they continue to be,
partially at least, dependent on the parent birds for many days after
they have learnt to hawk for themselves. The process of feeding is
carried on while both old and young are on the wing; or the young,
perched on the top of a house or the branch of a tree, receive in turn
the morsels which their more skilful parents have caught for them. In
autumn, many days before migration is actually about to take place,
Swallows, old and young, assemble in large flocks, especially towards
evening, and roost on trees in the vicinity of water. At this season
they seem to be more socially disposed, even during the day, than at
any other period of their sojourn with us. In October they take their
departure collectively, and so strongly is the migratory instinct then
in force, that it overcomes parental affection, powerful though this
feeling is in the Swallow; some of the late broods being left behind.
[12] Chelidonium: Celandine or Swallow-wort, from
[Greek: chelidôn], 'a Swallow'.
THE HOUSE MARTIN
CHELÍDON ÚRBICA
Head, nape and upper part of the back, black with violet
reflections; lower part of the back, and all the under parts,
pure white; feet and toes covered with downy feathers; tail
forked, moderate. Length five inches and a half. Eggs pure
white.
The swallows and the Martins are so much alike in their leading
habits, namely, migration, mode of flight, and food, that a
description of either will in many respects be applicable to the
other. The House Martin generally arrives a few days after the
Swallow, and resorts to similar localities. In the early part of the
season the most sheltered places are sought out, and the two species
may frequently be seen hawking for flies in company. Later in the
season its numbers are observed to be greatly increased, and it is
joined by the Swift and Sand Martin. Not that any society is entered
into by the different species, or that they even sport together; but
one may often stand on the bank of a canal, or by the margin of a
pond, and see all four kinds glance by in varied succession, and in
proportions which differ according as one or the other is most
abundant in the neighbourhood. Acute listeners can, it is said, hear a
snapping noise made by the bird as it closes its beak on a captured
insect, but I must confess that though I have often tried to detect
this sound, I have never succeeded. Swift as their passage is, and
similar though the flight of all the species, no difficulty is found
in distinguishing them. The Chimney-Swallow is sufficiently marked by
its long forked tail and red chin; the House Martin by the snow-white
hue of its abdomen and lower part of the back, and by its shorter
tail, which is also forked; the Sand Martin by its smaller size, its
greyish brown back and dirty-white under plumage, as well as by its
shorter, slightly forked tail; and the Swift can be distinguished at
any distance by its shape, which resembles a bent bow, with the body
representing an arrow ready to be shot. On a nearer view, the Swift is
marked by its general black hue relieved only by a spot of white on
the chin, which it requires a sharp eye to detect. All the species
have the power of suddenly, and with the greatest rapidity, altering
their course by a slight movement of the wings and tail.