the hope that they would breed and multiply. Their hopes have been more
than justified, for they did at once settle down and increase; they
passed first from the county they were liberated in to the adjoining
county of Huntingdon; then, spreading over that, they extended their
area into Cambridgeshire, then on into Suffolk, Essex, Norfolk. Every
one was at first delighted, and keepers were given strict injunctions on
no account to worry the newcomers; but gradually the keepers' faces
began to get long, and first one and then another reported strange
stories of depleted coops shortly after the foster-hen was put out into
the open with her family of ten or more young birds. Ornithologists were
scandalised at these stories--an owl take a young game-bird:
impossible!--but what is impossible in the eyes of men of science has
turned out to be a fact, and this charming-looking Little Owl is found
to be one of the worst vermin on the whole list which vexes the soul of
the game preserver. For it is just this, that at the very time the young
pheasants or hand-reared partridges are put out, the Little Owl has its
own little family to feed; the foster-mother, the hen, being always
kept shut in the coop, the little puff-balls of pheasants, as they are
in those early days, run in and out between the bars, and once outside
are, of course, without protection. The Owl has noticed this fact, and
it may be seen sitting on the top of the coop watching till one of the
little birds is conveniently near, and down it swoops and carries it
away for its own family's dinner; this it will repeat time after time
till it has cleared off the whole lot. This can only happen, of course,
when the young pheasants are very very small--a few days old--and
hand-reared, for if they were out and about with their own mother--or in
the case of partridges their own father--they would be safe, as neither
would allow such an impudent attack to be made without going for the
murderous marauder. It has only been after years and years of persistent
effort that gamekeepers have been induced to learn that all ordinary
owls flying at night-time--when all young birds are safe under their
mothers' wings--are harmless, and that from the good they do in clearing
off hundreds of mice and young rats, should be, and must be, protected.
They are now protected; but this newcomer arrives--not an ordinary night
owl at all--and the whole position is changed, and years of teaching
will be thrown to the winds, as it will be hard indeed to persuade the
average thick-headed keeper that he was not right all along, and that
every owl of every sort ought to be shot at sight and nailed to the
pole. So much for benevolent intentions of increasing the variety of a
country's fauna. Nearly always it is best not to interfere with Nature's
order, and the rabbit pest in Australia, and the sparrows in America,
are already known to most as illustrations of this fact.
The Little Owl makes a quaint pet, and thrives well in confinement; its
antics and poses are really droll, and the big eyes look at you with a
seeming deep intelligence. This is the owl, by the way, that by the
ancient Greeks, was made sacred to Pallas Athene and used as a symbol of
wisdom; furthermore, it was engraved on many of their coins.
In Egypt it is everywhere--in town and country, in ruined temples,
dismal tombs, and gardens bright with flowers and sunshine. I have seen
it sitting on the upright poles of shadoofs, and on the tops of high
stalks of growing maize, and once I saw it, in broad daylight, on the
back of a recumbent buffalo.
EGYPTIAN EAGLE OWL
Bubo ascalaphus
Arabic, _Buma_
Plumage a rich buff-brown, with darker markings of black, brown,
and grey. Large wing-feathers and tail broadly barred with blackish
brown; chin and upper throat white; under-plumage bright golden
buff, with blotches and streaks on the flanks; beak black; eyes of
most intense flame-like orange. Total length, 20 inches.
This name Eagle Owl is almost more imposing than the bird itself, as,
though large, it is much smaller than the Eagle Owl of Europe.
It is to be found in some of the very largest of the temples, ruined or
otherwise, but, as far as my own knowledge goes, not in many of the
smaller buildings. Its principal haunts are the steep cliff-like sides
of the hills and mountains.
When staying in the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings, every night
regularly as the sun sank behind the ridge, the first weird "Booom" rang
out, soon to be answered by another similar call from another part of
the hills, and then, soon and silently, there floated past the big dull
brown form. Sailing away to the opposite side, with my glasses
[Illustration: EGYPTIAN EAGLE OWL]
I could see it stretch out its legs forward as it settled on to
some favourite ledge of rock, and turning its great head round, so that
I could see its glorious coloured eyes, would utter a still louder
booming challenge. This was so absolutely regular that when working I
knew exactly where certain purple-blue shadows would be across the face
of the otherwise golden cliff-side, when I heard its first call. Twice I
had one in captivity; one died, but the other seemed to recover so well
from a damaged wing, that as soon as I had finished the studies needed,
I decided to let it go free, and let it out; but, stupefied by
confinement, or else because the wing was not really strong enough to
make flight easy, it only hopped and walked about in a rather aimless
way, and was in danger of being attacked by the dogs of our camp. So I
had to catch, and in my arms carry my captive right high up the
Deir-el-Bahari cliffs--and any that have been there know what that
means--and at a safe place near a cleft I had often seen them at, set it
free; neither then, nor during my toil up that cliff was I rewarded by
the slightest sign of gratitude; on the contrary, hissing viciously and
clawing right and left with its big talons, intent on doing me serious
damage, my prisoner strove with me. That was in the evening; very early
the next day I went right up the same place, and as there were no
feathers or other marks of murder, I sincerely hope the poor bird got
safely away to some sheltering cave, there to be welcomed by wife or
husband, as the case might be, and regaled with great store of such food
as Eagle Owls love. When with me, sardines, scraps of meat, and bits of
bony chicken were readily eaten, but a great dislike was shown to being
watched at meals.
THE HOOPOE
Upupa epops
Arabic, _Hud Hud_
Head and crest rich rusty orange; the tips of feathers of crest
black; the neck and chest rufous changing to a pink hue on breast;
wings and tail black with broad white parallel bars; under-parts
buff to white; legs brown; beak black; eyes brown. Length, 12
inches.
The hoop-hoop-hoop cry of this bird is almost as curiously attractive as
its varied plumage and magnificent crest. You see it everywhere, and it
loves the haunts of man. It is not well to know too much of one's
heroes, and it certainly is well not to know too much of the habits of
some of the wild children of the earth and air. The repulsiveness of the
menu of the Hoopoe is enough to make one put one's pen through its name
and never mention it. But it is not always feeding, and when walking
about in stately fashion on some mud wall, lifting its great circular
crown of feathers ever and again, whilst it utters its call-name
hoop-hoop-hoopoe, it is so picturesque and charming one has to pass its
nasty little peculiarities by. We have to do this frequently with our
own unfeathered friends for the good we presume they possess, and there
is much that is good in this perky little bird.
Time was, it is said, when the Hoopoe had no crest, and he only got one
granted by royal favour. The king of those days was importing a new
bride from Asia, and decided to have her met at the port on the Red Sea
where she landed, with unusual pomp. His army was to go down and escort
her to the royal city, and all the birds of the air were instructed also
to wait her arrival and form a flying sunshade with their wings, and fan
the air with their pinions, whilst all should fill the heavens with
their sweet songs--and thus she should come. The birds agreed, all but
the Hoopoe. He objected, he knew something about the lady, and he
wouldn't consent to go. Saying he would rather not, he flew away to a
cave in some far-away mountain in the desert. When the king heard of
this he was very wroth. Anyhow, he had the culprit sent for, and now the
poor Hoopoe is brought before his enraged majesty, but so bravely did he
comport himself, and so well did he defend his position, showing that if
he did that for which he had conscientious objections, he would suffer
grave moral and intellectual damage, and therefore it was with all
respect he begged to be excused. His Majesty was so amazed
[Illustration: HOOPOE
On the house-tops.]
with his bravery and intelligence that he took from off his own
head the royal crown and placed it on the Hoopoe's, saying, truly thou
art a very king amongst birds, and shall for ever be crowned. To show
the truth of this story, it is only necessary to come to Egypt, when the
most sceptical will be at once converted, as he will see that every
single Hoopoe to this day is indeed right royally crowned as no other
bird is.[3]
[3] A variation of this story is given by the Hon. Robert Curzon, in
his _Visits to Monasteries in the Levant_. There the Hoopoe was told
by the king to go home and consult his spouse, as to what should be
the royal gift, and she, like a true feminine, on being questioned,
said, "Let us ask for crowns of gold on our heads, that we may be
superior to all other birds." The request was granted, but the king
forewarned them that they would see the folly of their request; and
all Hoopoes of both sexes strutted about with solid gold crowns, and
"the queen of the Hoopoes gave herself airs, and sat upon a twig, and
refused to speak to the Merops, her cousin" (bee-eater), but a certain
fowler, who set traps and nets for birds, put a broken mirror into
his traps. The queen of course went to look into it to the better
see herself and her golden crown, and got caught. The value of these
solid gold crowns soon led to every man's hand being against the vain
Hoopoes. "Not a Hoopoe could show its head, but it was slain or taken
captive, and the days of the Hoopoes were numbered; then their minds
were filled with sorrow and dismay." The king of the Hoopoes went back
to the monarch and related their piteous plight, and Solomon said,
"Behold, did I not warn thee of thy folly, in desiring to have crowns
of gold? Vanity and pride have been thy ruin. But now, that a memorial
may remain of the service which thou didst render unto me, your crowns
of gold shall be changed into crowns of feathers, that ye may walk
unharmed upon the earth."
The Cairo Zoological Gardens report it as "a fairly numerous visitor in
spring and autumn" to the gardens, and of course most know that it is a
casual visitor to the British Isles; but there it is at once shot, as
soon as seen, and is then mounted by the local taxidermist. Few
collections of stuffed birds, however modest, are without examples of
British-killed Hoopoes. That it will ever therefore become common with
us is impossible, but that it might be a regular visitor is certain,
for, as long as there have been any records kept, its appearance in the
summer has been noted, and no farther than the Continent it is a regular
and honoured visitor. The last Hoopoe I saw in Egypt was on April 6, on
Lake Menzaleh; it rose from a mere scrap of an island all soft sand, and
headed to the dunes that separate the lake from the Mediterranean, and
the last I saw of it, was it still flying with its head pointed to
European shores.
THE KINGFISHER
Alcedo ispida
General plumage a metallic blue; the under parts, lores, and ear
coverts are bright chestnut; throat, white; the top of the head is
a greenish turquoise with darker markings; the back is a brilliant
cobalt blue shading into darker ultramarine blue on rump and tail;
legs, red; eyes, brown. Length 7 inches, but individuals vary much.
In Egypt this bird is common, and would be commoner if it were not in
some parts relentlessly pursued for its brilliant plumes. When at
Matariya on Lake Menzaleh I heard that the regular price was a half
piastre (or a penny farthing) per skin, and that at that price hundreds
were obtained. As we at home are not entirely blameless on this point
much must not be said, but it is nevertheless to be regretted, as its
brilliant plumage is such a valuable addition to the frequently
colourless river scenery. Wherever there is water both in Upper and
Lower Egypt this bird will be met with, and in the Luxor district it is
really common. It is a bird that loves some particular spot, and clings
to some one reach or another, so that where once seen it is highly
probable to be seen again. It is said to breed in Egypt, and probably
does in localities suited to it.
The food is chiefly fish, and it has often been noted that it swallows
such prey, after one or two preparatory blows, head foremost. In flight
it hardly seems to move its wings, or they are moved so quickly that the
eye does not catch the movement, it seems to pass along smoothly,
literally like an arrow. This bird, like so many bright plumaged ones,
is no songster, and has only a sort of shrill call note. Both male and
female are alike in plumage, but the female has more red on the lower
bill.
There is one other Kingfisher that may be met with, the Little Indian
Kingfisher, very similar in plumage to the last, but it is a smaller
bird and its bill is longer. I do not think I have ever seen it, though
I know those who say they have noticed it several times on the rushing
water in the Assoan district.
[Illustration: COMMON KINGFISHER]
BLACK AND WHITE KINGFISHER
Ceryle rudis
The whole plumage black and white; feathers on top of head form
crest; under surface white. In the male two dark bands cross the
upper breast, in the female only one; both have some thin
lance-shaped black markings on the sides; beak and legs black; eyes
brown. Length, 11·5 inches.
This is a bird few know till they have been up the Nile; but when they
have, they know it well, for it is not at all of a retiring nature, but
boldly shows itself, and is very fond of sitting in conspicuous places,
on the tops of poles, or on the dahabeah chains. Many seem to find it
difficult to understand this is a Kingfisher, since they have a
preconceived idea that Kingfishers must all necessarily be
bright-plumaged birds, like the preceding species; but the Kingfishers
are a very large family, and very various in size and colour. The
Australian "Laughing Jackass" is a Kingfisher, and there are many others
that possess no very special brilliance of plumage.
This Black and White Kingfisher is a true resident in Egypt, and just
about the time we all leave for our homes it sets to work to make one,
and digs out a hole in the soft sides of the Nile bank. In some cases it
burrows back two to three feet before it widens out the chamber in which
the nest is made. I do not know that the bird is in any way persecuted,
but it is not beloved of the people, as they accuse it of eating too
many of their young fish. Visitors who do not like their muddy Nile fish
do not see any great offence in this, but I can quite see the matter
from the native's point of view, and am a little astonished that it has
been allowed to increase and multiply as it has. Last year, each
evening, something like thirty used to roost on the chain cable of Mr.
Davis's dahabeah, moored just opposite Luxor. Where they all came from
was something of a mystery, as, though you would see one now and again
on that reach of river, you would never be able to see anything like
that number; yet every evening in they used to come, and after a rather
excited noisy discussion settled down to roost for the night.
A most interesting thing in this bird is its singular habit of hanging
in mid-air, above the water, on the look-out for fish. Although I have
said fish, it is certain it must take other creatures than fish, for I
have often seen it, not
[Illustration: BLACK AND WHITE KINGFISHER]
only hovering over the Sacred Lake at Karnak, but also plunging
head foremost down into its waters, and securing some food or other,
with which it has at once flown away to some convenient perch and there
swallowed it. Now there are no fish in the Karnak Lake, and it is clear
that what the Kingfisher goes for must be some variety of its ordinary
fishy food, and must be some larvæ or fine fat water-beetle. When
hanging thus in mid-air it reminds me a little of our own Windhover or
Kestrel, in its quick clapping stroke of wings, whilst its body and tail
hang nearly perpendicularly down, till it sees what it wants; then the
position of its body alters in a flash, and down it plunges, and is lost
for a moment in the splash and spray that it raises by the impact with
the water.
THE LITTLE GREEN BEE-EATER
Merops viridis
The plumage throughout is green, with a black eye-stripe and a
black marking in front on chest; legs brown, beak black, eyes
crimson, two centre tail-feathers very elongated. Total length, 11
inches.
There are three species of Bee-eaters, but this, the Little Green
Bee-eater, is chosen because it is resident, and because it must be seen
by every one in Upper Egypt. The other two species are both birds of
passage through Egypt, and are seldom seen or heard till April or May,
when most people have left. This bird is well called the Green Bee-eater
since it is green right over every part of its upper plumage, but owing
to the shading of parts not in the full light of the sun it often
appears as if its head were of burnished gold, and again when it flies,
if the light be at all behind it, the transparent outstretched wings
look a brilliant orange owing to the under-sides being of that rich warm
colour. In habits it will remind any observer of our Fly-catchers at
home, for it sits rather humped up on a dead twig, wall, or post till,
suddenly observing some passing bee or fly, it
[Illustration: LITTLE GREEN BEE-EATER]
swoops down on its prey and then back again to its perch to enjoy
its food. This it will continue to do by the hour together, till, first
stretching out one wing and leg, and then the other, it decides to set
out for pastures new, and with an easy, long, sweeping flight, rising
and then falling, it disappears from view. It is a very tame little
bird, and is met with literally everywhere; but it is undoubtedly most
fond of the wells with a few trees growing round them, or the gardens or
palm-groves. I do not remember to have seen one actually on the ground,
in which matter it is similar to all very short-legged birds, and its
legs are very short.
It is a melancholy fact to have to record that it is far too often shot
by visitors; and worse, sometimes now native boys catch it for the
delectation of tourists, and, tying a bit of string round its legs, hold
it as if it were perching naturally on their hands. They then offer it
to tourists as a tame, pet bird, and I fear the tourist too often buys
of them, for otherwise these utterly mercenary little rascals would not
indulge in this traffic. Needless to say the poor bird always
dies--indeed, is more often than not half-dead when in the boy's hand,
as its half-glazed eye only too plainly shows. One hardly knows how to
cure this cruelty, for the humane nearly always rebuke the boy, give him
a piastre or two, and liberate the bird, and pass on thinking they have
done a good deed. The bird can only flutter feebly away, and the boy of
course re-catches it and goes through the same performance with the next
kind-hearted, foolish visitor. It is with regret I write it, but I do
not in the least now believe in the Egyptian's love for birds, or
anything other than backsheesh. Why the birds are or were so universally
tame is not because of their kindliness, but simply because of their
apathy. The moment it dawns on them that there is anything to be made
out of birds or any other lovely thing they are as brutal as the very
worst British hooligan.
I have sometimes seen Bee-eaters in the ruins and temples, and in this
connection it is interesting to recall that there is a very good
representation of one flying, in the celebrated series of pictures of
the expedition to Punt at Deir-el-Bahari, the only case I can remember
of a Bee-eater being so represented. It is entirely insectivorous, and
is one of the many birds which ought, in this insect-infested country,
to be strictly preserved, for it is appalling to think what an
unbearable land this would be for us thin-skinned people if the teeming
clouds of flies and mosquitoes were not held in some check by these
industrious birds, which are all day long steadily trying to reduce
their numbers.
* * * * *
By modern naturalists the Common Swift is not placed along with the
Swallow, but comes near the Bee-eaters and Nightjars, and I therefore
place my notes on this bird at this point.
When I arrived early in October 1907 at Deir-el-Bahari, I saw thousands
upon thousands of Swifts flying round in never-ending circles, and all,
as far as I was able to identify them, the same Swift that goes
shrieking its weird song down every town and village in rural England.
Night after night, in the wonderful glow that follows the actual sunset,
I used to go to the top of the great cliffs that overhang Queen
Hatashu's temple, where round me raced here, there, and everywhere,
these great clouds of birds, sometimes so near me, as I sat quietly
hidden in a niche of the rocks, that I could easily have knocked them
down with a stick; whilst others were high, high up, circling round.
Every now and then so close they came, shrilly shrieking and screaming,
one after another, in follow-my-leader fashion, that I felt the cool
fanning of the air from their beating wings. In the early morning they
were out again, but during the middle of the day they were rarely if
ever to be seen. By the end of November there were but few, and when I
returned after Christmas there was hardly one to be seen. About the
middle of January I saw flocks of them again at Karnak, which is only
just on the other side of the river.
Shelley seems to speak of the Common Swift as rare, and he is most
probably right, but I have no doubt whatever of the identity of those I
saw in the neighbourhood of Thebes at that particular time. The Swift
that really breeds here is the Pale Swift, which, instead of being
almost black all over like the Common Swift, has a more or less uniform
greyish-brown plumage, and is considerably smaller; Shelley says two
inches.
In the report of the Giza Zoological Society on the wild birds that have
been observed in the gardens, both species of Swifts are noticed as
having occurred there, and it is probable that both kinds are spread
over the whole of Egypt. Why it is not generally noticed is because, as
has been said, it flies out rather late, and keeps to great heights,
never within my own experience flying as at home a foot or so above the
ground.
The Pale Swift I have often seen, and so close to me that the main
difference in plumage to the Common Swift has been definitely noted. I
myself have never heard it make the wild shrieking note our own bird
makes, but then I have only seen it in the mid-winter months.
THE SWALLOWS
Hirundo rustica Hirundo savignii
_European Common Chimney Swallow_ _Egyptian_
Upper plumage from forehead to tail, deep metallic steel
blue-black; forehead and throat, rich red-brown; a band of the blue
borders the red on throat; underparts creamy-white; beak very short
and black; eyes, dark brown. Length, 8 inches.
The above description is of the Common or Chimney Swallow, and if for
the creamy-white underparts, you read red-brown underparts, length 7
inches, you have an accurate description of the Egyptian or Oriental
Chimney Swallow. As the Egyptian Swallow and our own Common Swallow are
so similar in appearance and habits, both are dealt with in this
article. With so little difference between the two species, it is not
strange that persons seem to find it hard to distinguish the one from
the other; but really, if one watches at all carefully, he will soon
note if the individual bird has the creamy-white underparts or no, as it
is seldom that any swallow flies long without that sideway swerve which
shows the wing lifted free above the body. The first date I have noted
as
[Illustration: COMMON SWALLOW AND EGYPTIAN SWALLOW]
seeing the Common Swallow was February 1, 1908, at the Mût Lake,
Karnak; but I have no doubt that at some parts up or down the river they
can be seen all the winter through. After February, day by day, the
great hosts of them, all flying with earnest intent due north, makes one
of the most interesting sights to English eyes in all Egypt, as one can
well believe that some of those very birds will be the first to greet
one on his return home in April or May. I have often seen them hawking
about over the waters of some small insect-haunted pool in friendly
company with their Oriental cousins, and have always marvelled at their
leaving a land with its constant sun and amazing wealth of flies and
insects, for our own comparatively inclement clime and poor food-supply.
In a room I slept in, at the hut at Deir-el-Bahari, there was a
swallow's nest just over my bed, and though it was too early when I was
there in January for them to start breeding, on several occasions the
Egyptian Swallows came fluttering in through the unglazed windows, just
to take a look round and see that all was right for later on. On
February 14 I saw two, which were clearly mated birds, on the ground,
picking up scraps of twigs and straw, and then rapidly fly away. In a
few minutes both were back again, and one seemed to be taking mud,
whilst the other kept searching for just the right-sized bit of dry
grass or straw; it took up many bits, but they did not seem to satisfy
the requirements and were dropped, till just the right-sized piece was
forthcoming. So it is clear they must start nesting very early, and
pretty certainly will have, as our British bird does, two broods in the
season. There is practically little or no difference in the habits of
either of these two Swallows--the one might be the other--and though I
have watched them long and carefully, I am unable to recall any single
peculiarity that our Swallow has from the Egyptian. Both alike have that
habit of dipping momentarily into the water, then rising for a short
distance, and again fluttering down on to the surface with a slight
splash, and both kinds seem to have boundless energy and strength,
tearing up and down incessantly by the hour together. So many birds rest
in flight by making long sweeping curves with rigidly outstretched
wings. Kites and Vultures are great exponents of this power, but the
Swallows, though they can do it of course, are nearly all the day
careering in headlong flight with restless energy, and the
[Illustration: PALE CRAG SWALLOW]