[Illustration: WATER OUZELS AND KINGFISHER.]
The WATER OUZEL, or DIPPER (_Cinclus aquaticus_), is seven and a half
inches long, and eleven and one-third broad, the wing measures three and
a half, and the tail two inches; the female is a few lines smaller than
her mate. The coloration of the plumage is simple, but very striking, the
head and nape are yellowish brown; the feathers on the rest of the upper
part of the body are slate-grey, edged with black; the entire throat is
milk-white; the upper breast reddish brown, and the remainder of the
under side deep brown; the feathers of the young are light slate-colour,
bordered with a deeper shade on the back, and on the under parts of a
dirty white, with dark edges and markings. The Dippers are found very
extensively throughout all such European mountain ranges--except the
Scandinavian Alps, where they are replaced by a similar but darker
bird--as are well supplied with water; they also frequent Central Asia,
Palestine, and North-western Africa. In the south and extreme east
of Asia and in America they are represented by a variety of nearly
allied species. In Great Britain they are also numerous, especially in
Derbyshire, upon the banks of the Dove and Derwent. Waterfalls, rippling
streams, and mountain lakes are the localities they most delight in; and
in the vicinity of these they often remain throughout the entire year,
always providing that during the winter the ice upon the surface of the
water does not so entirely cover it as to prevent them from indulging in
the constant immersions that may be said to be almost necessary to their
existence. It is not uncommon to see the banks of a mountain stream,
from its source to its fall, occupied by a party of these birds, each
pair taking possession of about a quarter of a mile of water, and living
strictly within the limits of its district. Those who have been at the
pains to observe the movements and habits of this interesting species,
cannot fail to have been delighted by the antics it performs while
carrying on its bathing operations; not merely does it run over the stony
bed of the river with the utmost agility, and wade even up to its eyes
in the rippling stream, but continues its course under the water, or
even beneath the ice, to a considerable depth, not, as has been stated,
for a minute at a time, but certainly during the space of from fifteen
to twenty seconds. Strange as this performance by so small a bird may
appear to our readers, wading is the least extraordinary part of its
proceedings; into the swift eddying rapid, into the bed of the roaring,
rushing waterfall, it boldly plunges, steering its way, if need be, with
the aid of its short wings, through the whirling masses of water, and
flying, or rather, we should say, swimming, by the help of its pinions,
across more tranquil spots with an ease that will bear comparison with
the movements of almost any species of water-fowl. Nuttall says, in
speaking of these birds, "When the water becomes deep enough for them
to plunge, they open and drop their wings with an agitated motion, and,
with the head stretched out as in the ordinary act of flying in the air,
descend to the bottom, and there, as if on the ground, course up and
down in quest of food. While under the water, to which their peculiar
plumage is impermeable, they appear as though silvered over with rapidly
escaping bubbles of air." A writer in the "Annals of Sporting," gives
the following interesting account of a party of these birds, to whose
movements he was an eye-witness:--
[Illustration: THE WATER OUZEL, OR DIPPER (_Cinclus aquaticus_).]
"About four years ago, when on a shooting excursion, I embraced the
opportunity--as everybody else who has it ought to do--of visiting the
deservedly celebrated Falls of the Clyde, and here it was, while viewing
the Fall of Bonnington, that, happening to cast my eye down below, a
little beyond the foot of the cascade, where the river is broken with
stones and fragments of rock, I espied, standing near each other on a
large stone, no less than five Water Ouzels. Thus favourably stationed as
I was for a view--myself unseen--I had a fair opportunity for overlooking
their manœuvres. I observed accordingly that they flirted up their tails
and flew from one stone to another, till at length they mustered again
upon the identical one on which I had first espied them. They next
entered into the water and disappeared, but they did not all do this at
the same time, neither did they do it in the same manner. Three of them
plunged over head instantaneously, but the remaining two walked gradually
into the stream, and having displayed their wings, spread them on the
surface, and by this means appeared entirely to support themselves.
In this position they continued for some time--at one moment quickly
spinning themselves, as it were, two or three times round, at another
remaining perfectly motionless on the surface; at length they almost
insensibly sank. What became of them it is not in my power to state, the
water not being sufficiently transparent for me to discover the bottom
of the river, particularly as I was elevated so much above it. Neither
can I say that I perceived any one of them emerge again, although I kept
glancing my eye in every direction, in order, if possible, to catch them
in the act of re-appearing. The plumage of the bird, indeed, being so
much in harmony with the surrounding masses of stone, rendered it not
very easily distinguishable. I did, however, afterwards observe two of
these birds on the opposite side of the stream, and possibly the three
others might also have emerged and escaped my notice."
Mr. Mudie, in his "Feathered Tribes," observes--"A question has been
raised how the Dipper can contrive to keep beneath a fluid so much more
dense than itself. An Owl to an Owl's bulk of air is as a stone to a
pound, as compared with the Dipper's bulk of water to the Dipper; but
if birds rise and ascend in the air at pleasure by the motions of their
wings, it is only reversing those motions to enable them to descend or
keep themselves down in water. The difference of specific gravity between
the bird and the water is indeed so trifling that very little effort
suffices to move it in any direction, upwards, downwards, or laterally.
Birds do not fly upon the principle of specific gravity, as, with equal
wings, the heavy birds fly best; they fly because they strike the air
more forcibly in the opposite direction to that in which they wish to go,
and, under water, the Dipper just does the same. If it wishes to go down,
it strikes upwards with the wings and tail; if to come up, it does just
the reverse. The only difference is that the wings are held 'recovered,'
as running birds use them, and that gravitation has even less to do in
the matter than in flying. Any one who has ever seen a Dipper under
water, or has the slightest knowledge of the mere elements of mechanics,
can understand the whole matter in an instant. The Dipper is indeed often
adduced as an instance of the beautiful simplicity of animal mechanics."
The flight of the Water Ouzel is effected by a series of rapidly repeated
strokes, yet, even when winging its way through the air, the bird skims
along near the surface of the stream, darting down from time to time
to seize a passing insect. Only when hotly pursued does it quit the
vicinity of its favourite lake or river, and seek safety by flying to
any considerable distance, and it always returns to its usual haunts
as soon as the cause of its alarm has disappeared. While perched upon
an elevated point on the bank, engaged in watching for prey, it is not
uncommon to see it dart suddenly down and seize its victim with an action
more resembling the leap of a frog than the movement of a member of the
feathered creation. As regards intelligence and the perfection of its
senses, this remarkable bird is decidedly highly endowed; its sight
and hearing, in particular, are extremely acute. In disposition it is
cunning, cautious, and so observant that it at once perceives any unusual
object or detects approaching danger.
To the presence of man the Dipper usually exhibits the utmost repugnance,
whether he come in the guise of a friend or foe, nor is it less fearful
of the attacks of the numerous birds of prey that dwell around and
within its rocky haunts. We learn from Homeyer, who has observed these
Ouzels very extensively, that their dislike to man, above alluded to, is
sometimes laid aside, and that they have not only been known to allow the
approach of a stranger, but have even ventured to approach mill-streams,
and, in some instances, cultivated quite a close acquaintance with the
miller and his family. The same writer also mentions that a pair of these
birds made their appearance in Baden-Baden, and much astonished the
visitors at one of the largest hotels, by commencing their diving and
bathing operations immediately in front of the house. Even towards birds
of its own kind, the Water Ouzel is extremely unsocial; only during the
period of incubation does it tolerate the society of its mates; at other
times it lives alone, driving off any of its neighbours that unwarily
intrude within the precincts of its little domain with a violence well
calculated to prevent a renewal of the offence, as the following extract
will show:--
"A gentleman," says a correspondent of the _Field_ newspaper, "was
walking along the bank of a little stream in Pembrokeshire, when he saw a
Dipper, shooting along with its usual arrowy flight, divert itself from
its course, and, dashing against a Redbreast that was sitting quietly
on a twig overhanging the stream, knock it fairly into the water. The
savage little bird was not content with this assault, but continued to
attack the poor Redbreast as it lay fluttering on the waves, endeavouring
to force it below the surface. It twice drove its victim under water,
and would have killed it, had it not been scared away by the shouts and
gestures of the witness. The Robin at length succeeded in scrambling
to the bank, and got away in safety." So strong is this dislike to
companionship, that even the young are sent forth to provide for
themselves at such a tender age as would appear to render it impossible
for them to obtain their own livelihood.
The song of the male Dipper may be best described as a lively chatter,
consisting of a variety of light tones uttered with different degrees
of sound and expression, and is to be heard not only in the spring, but
during the utmost severity of the winter. "Those," says Schinz, "who have
listened to their cheerful voices on a bleak January morning, when every
object in the landscape seemed frozen or dead, or watched the gay little
singers as, in the very joyousness of their heart, they sprung through a
hole into the ice-bound stream, to take their usual copious bath, would
be inclined to believe that they are actually insensible to the chilling
breath of the frost and the icy nature of the scene around them." Insects
of all kinds constitute their principal means of existence. Gloger
tells us that during the winter they also frequently eat mussels and
small fish, and that this diet imparts a fishy flavour to their flesh.
Should the season be unusually severe, they are sometimes compelled to
venture forth and snatch a meal from the most unlikely places; thus
we were informed by a miller in our neighbourhood that his mill was
repeatedly visited during a heavy frost by a pair of these birds, they
being attracted by the hope of obtaining a portion of the oil with which
the mill-wheels were greased, and so overcome with hunger were the poor
creatures that they swallowed the grease boldly, even when one of the men
stood close to the spot.
The period of incubation commences in April, one brood and occasionally
two being produced within the year. The nest is constructed close to
the surface of the water, and, if possible, in such a situation as to
permit the stream to flow past it, and thus afford protection against
the attacks of martens, weasels, cats, and such-like enemies; it is
usually placed upon projecting stones or rocks, or in holes in bridges
or mill-dams, and similar situations. In an instance that came under
our own notice, it was built in the wheel of a mill that had for a time
stopped work. All our endeavours to obtain a sight of the nest last
mentioned would have been useless, had not the friendly miller drawn off
the water, and thus permitted us to satisfy our curiosity. The cavity, or
nook selected for the reception of the brood is lined with a thick bed of
twigs, grass, straw, and moss, these materials being overspread with a
layer of leaves. If the mouth of the hole be large it is covered with a
kind of mossy lid, resembling that made by the Wren for her little abode,
leaving only an entrance passage of very moderate dimensions. When placed
among the machinery of a mill, the nest has sometimes required to be two
feet long, in order to keep it firmly fixed on its precarious foundation.
The eggs, from four to six in number, are of a glossy white, variously
shaped, but generally from eight to ten lines long, and eight to eight
and a half lines broad. Though the female broods with such diligence and
care that she will not even make her escape at the approach of danger,
she rarely succeeds in hatching more than two of her brood, the rest of
the eggs being no doubt addled by the damp situation of the nest. Whilst
engaged in tending their young family, the parents often appear to lay
aside their usual timidity, and will permit a stranger to investigate
their proceedings without exhibiting any sign of fear.