SELBORNE, _Aug. 1st._, 177l.
Dear Sir,--From what follows, it will appear that neither owls nor
cuckoos keep to one note. A friend remarks that many (most) of his owls
hoot in B flat; but that one went almost half a note below A. The pipe
he tried their notes by was a common half-crown pitch-pipe, such as
masters use for tuning of harpsichords; it was the common London pitch.
A neighbour of mine, who is said to have a nice ear, remarks that the
owls about this village hoot in three different keys, in G flat, or F
sharp, in B flat and A flat. He heard two hooting to each other, the one
in A flat, and the other in B flat. _Query_: Do these different notes
proceed from different species, or only from various individuals? The
same person finds upon trial that the note of the cuckoo (of which we
have but one species) varies in different individuals; for, about
Selborne wood, he found they were mostly in D: he heard two sing
together, the one in D, the other in D sharp, who made a disagreeable
concert: he afterwards heard one in D sharp, and about Wolmer Forest some
in C. As to nightingales, he says that their notes are so short, and
their transitions so rapid, that he cannot well ascertain their key.
Perhaps in a cage, and in a room, their notes may be more
distinguishable. This person has tried to settle the notes of a swift,
and of several other small birds, but cannot bring them to any criterion.
As I have often remarked that redwings are some of the first birds that
suffer with us in severe weather, it is no wonder at all that they
retreat from Scandinavian winters: and much more the _ordo_ of _gralloe_,
who, all to a bird, forsake the northern parts of Europe at the approach
of winter. "_Grallae tanquam conjuratae_, _unanimiter in fugam se
cojiciunt_; _ne earum unicam quidem inter nos habitantem invenire
possimus_; _ut enim aestate in australibus degere nequeunt ob defectum
lumbricorum_, _terramque siccam_; _ita nec in frigidis ob eandem
causam_," says Ekmarck the Swede, in his ingenious little treatise called
"Migrationes Avium," which by all means you ought to read while your
thoughts run on the subject of migration. See "Amoenitates Academicae,"
vol. iv., p. 565.
Birds may be so circumstanced as to be obliged to migrate in one country,
and not in another: but the _grallae_ (which procure their food from
marshes and boggy grounds), must in winter forsake the more northerly
parts of Europe, or perish for want of food.
I am glad you are making inquiries from Linnaeus concerning the woodcock;
it is expected of him that he should be able to account for the motions
and manner of life of the animals of his own "Fauna."
Faunists, as you observe, are too apt to acquiesce in bare descriptions,
and a few synonyms: the reason is plain; because all that may be done at
home in a man's study, but the investigation of the life and conversation
of animals, is a concern of much more trouble and difficulty, and is not
to be attained but by the active and inquisitive, and by those that
reside much in the country.
Foreign systematics are, I observe, much too vague in their specific
differences, which are almost universally constituted by one or two
particular marks, the rest of the description running in general terms.
But our countryman, the excellent Mr. Ray, is the only describer that
conveys some precise idea in every term or word, maintaining his
superiority over his followers and imitators in spite of the advantage of
fresh discoveries and modern information.
At this distance of years it is not in my power to recollect at what
periods woodcocks used to be sluggish or alert when I was a sportsman:
but, upon my mentioning this circumstance to a friend, he thinks he has
observed them to be remarkably listless against snowy foul weather; if
this should be the case, then the inaptitude for flying arises only from
an eagerness for food; as sheep are observed to be very intent on grazing
against stormy wet evenings.