_About birds in general._
Our friend Jack, having made himself familiar with the peculiarities
of the domestic fowls, turned his attention to other species of birds.
He noticed particularly those which seemed to possess gentle and
confiding natures, such as the sparrows that build upon the shrubs
round the house; the martens that take up their abode in boxes which
you make for them, and place near the eaves of your dwelling; the
swallows that build in the barn, and the cheerful robin that loves to
dwell in the apple orchard. All these he observed with care, noticing
their modes of building and rearing their young; the food they
eat, the cries they uttered, and, in general, their peculiar
characteristics.
From these, Jack passed to other birds, and carefully studied them
also. At last, he was pretty well acquainted with the whole subject of
birds; and now he observed several important things, which I shall
present to the attention of my readers.
[Illustration: (quill)]
In the first place, Jack was struck with admiration at the formation
of birds. They are designed to raise themselves in the air, and to
spend a considerable part of their time in that subtle element. And
how wonderfully adapted to this purpose are they! In the first place,
a bird must have great strength, and yet great lightness: and how
happily are they united! Look at the quill of the wing――how strong,
and yet how light! Who could have invented anything more admirably
suited to rise on the breeze and cut its way through the air? Is there
a human being who could make a single quill, even if the model were
placed before him? Not one.
And then look at the bones of the bird. These, instead of being heavy
as in quadrupeds, are all hollow. They are therefore a great deal
lighter than those of other animals, while they are equally strong.
And then, observe the structure of the bird’s skeleton. What a
wonderful and ingenious piece of machinery! Look at the wing: how
easily it opens and shuts, and thus at once lifts the bird upward, and
drives it forward like an arrow in its path. Look at the
tail――destined, like the rudder of a ship, to direct its course――and
how admirably it is turned this way and that, quick as thought, to
guide the aerial voyager even among the intricacies of the forest!
Consider the feathery covering of the bird, designed to present a
smooth surface, so as not to cause interruption in passing through the
air, and to furnish a coat as impervious to the water as India rubber,
yet light as the gossamer. How wonderfully are these objects attained!
And now let us reflect upon the wisdom of the Creator, in designing a
class of animals destined to soar aloft upon the air, and His power in
accomplishing His purposes, as evinced in the structure of birds. How
many millions of these beautiful creatures there are in the world! how
diversified their structure, habits and instincts! and yet, let it be
remembered that man, with all his art, cannot make a feather.
The music of birds is a very curious and interesting phenomenon, not
only on account of the admirable variety and sweetness of the songs
they produce, but for the strength of their voices. The lowing of the
bull, or the roaring of the lion, cannot be heard at a great distance,
yet the little thrush can be heard half a mile. If quadrupeds had
voices equal to those of birds, in proportion to their size, an
elephant could easily be heard across the Atlantic ocean.
[Illustration: _Spoonbill._]
The variety in the forms of birds is a subject of great interest. How
different is the duck, with its short legs, from the spoonbill, which
seems to be walking upon stilts; the common barn-door fowl, with its
short neck, from the flamingo, whose neck is almost a yard in length,
and not half as thick as your wrist! How different is an ostrich,
which will carry a boy upon its back, from the little humming-bird,
which seems scarcely larger than a humble-bee!
Who can look forth upon the landscape, and notice the feathered
tribes, glancing from tree to tree, and from bush to bush, delighting
the eye with their pleasing forms and lovely hues, and the ear with
their charming melody, and the heart with that aspect of life and
cheerfulness, which they throw over the meadow, forest and field, and
not lift up his thoughts to heaven and say, “Oh Lord, how manifold are
thy works――in goodness and mercy hast thou made them all!”
[Illustration: _Ostriches._]
But I must not forget to say one thing more about Jack in this
chapter. While he was studying the subject of birds, he was very fond
of getting young ones, so that he might rear them; he also caught
several old ones, which he kept in cages. Now I believe that certain
birds may be happy in cages, such as canaries, and many others, that
are bred in confinement; but to catch wild birds and shut them up, is
treating the poor little creatures very cruelly. I would not,
therefore, be thought to commend Jack’s example in this respect.
[To be continued.]
[Illustration]
The Deserts of Africa and Asia.
In Africa, as well as Asia, there are immense tracts of land called
deserts, which consist of vast plains composed of loose sand. Large
portions of these are utterly destitute of vegetation, and sometimes,
in crossing them, the traveller sees not a hill, or mountain, or human
dwelling, or even a tree or shrub, or blade of grass. All around is a
sea of sand, and far as the eye can reach, it is one scene of lifeless
solitude and desolation.
These trackless wastes are traversed by caravans, which are companies
of travellers usually mounted upon camels. Horses travel in these
sands with difficulty. Their feet sink in the soil; they are overcome
with heat, and parched with drought. The camel, on the contrary, has a
large spongy foot, which does not sink in the sand; he can bear
excessive heat, and by a curious contrivance of nature, is enabled to
go without water for five or six days. This valuable creature is
called the ship of the desert, because it enables the merchants of
Asia and Africa to transport their merchandise over the sea of sand,
just as a ship carries goods from one part of the world to another,
across the briny ocean. It seems really as if Providence had provided
this singular animal on purpose to enable mankind to traverse the
great deserts which are spread out upon the eastern continent.
The desert of Sahara stretches nearly from the eastern to the western
coast of Africa, a distance of almost three thousand miles. Its width
is about eight hundred miles. Its whole extent is nearly equal to that
of the United States. This vast region, though for the most part a
scene of absolute desolation, has a few spots where the water collects
in pools, around which some vegetation springs up. These places, which
bear a delightful contrast to the surrounding sterility, and cheer the
eye of the thirsty, weary traveller, are called _oases_. Here the
caravans quench their thirst and repose in the delicious shadow of the
trees. The deserts of Arabia are far less extensive, but they are of a
similar character to that of Sahara.
It might seem that these inhospitable regions would be deserted by
man; but they are not only crossed by companies of travellers who wish
to pass from one country to another, but by bands of wandering Arabs,
who spend their whole lives upon these deserts. These are, for the
most part, desperate robbers. Thus, the lonely desert has its pirates,
as well as the lonely sea. These thieves have not only swift camels,
but swift horses; and it is amazing to see how rapidly they will speed
over the sandy plains. They come upon the traveller almost as suddenly
as the hawk that descends from the sky upon its unsuspecting prey, and
they disappear almost as suddenly.
It might seem that these inhabitants of the desert would lead a
miserable life, and especially that they would often be swallowed up
in the terrific sand storms, which sometimes sweep over these wastes.
The sand, being loose and dry, is borne upward by the whirling
tempest, and is seen driving over the plain, like a terrific
thunder-cloud. The experienced traveller sees the coming danger, and
prepares himself for it. He throws himself upon the ground, and covers
his face so as not to be choked with the dust. The horses and camels,
guided by instinct, also put their noses to the earth to prevent being
suffocated. If the storm is slight, the party escapes; but sometimes,
such immense waves of sand are drifted upon the wind, as to bury the
traveller so deeply beneath it, as to make it his winding-sheet
forever. Sometimes whole caravans, with their horses and camels, have
been in this manner overwhelmed――thus making the waves of the desert
as fatal as the waves of the sea.
Yet, despite the terrors of the desert, the Arabs are a lively and
cheerful race. On their march, they stop at night; and in their tents,
spread beneath the starry canopy, the laugh, the jest and the song go
round. There are among them professed story-tellers, who delight the
listeners with fanciful tales of enchantment, adventure, and love, or
perhaps they repeat, in an animated manner, some fine specimens of
Arabic poetry. Thus it is, that mankind, occupying the gloomiest parts
of the earth, have amusements. As the steel is made to yield its
spark, so the Arab finds pleasure in the desert.
――――
THE MERRY KNIGHT.――When Sir Henry Marshal, knight and alderman of
London, received the honor of knighthood from George II., he fell flat
upon the floor. The king was surprised, but on the knight rising up,
he facetiously said,――“Your majesty has conferred so much honor upon
me, that I was not able to stand up under it.” His majesty ever after
called him the merry knight.
[Illustration (monkey)]
Dick Boldhero.