conditions, nothing at all formidable to them. If, however, they get
caught in some storm or blizzard-like gale, it is an altogether
different matter, and there are many records of the Mediterranean coast
being littered with hundreds of dead bodies of the Swallows that have
succumbed and fallen helplessly into the sea. Watching them flying about
the river, or above the growing crops, one finds it difficult to picture
a more perfectly happy existence--food in abundance, sunshine all day
long, and a kindly welcome at roosting time in every house or rough
mud-hut--and cheery and grateful it seems for it all, if one may judge
by its lively twittering song. No wonder every country has made a
special favourite of the Swallow. It is entirely insectivorous, and, as
has been said of several other birds, the use that they are in this land
of plagues of flies is enormous.
Swallows' nests, as is well known, are generally placed on some
horizontal beam or masonry. Martin's nests are placed on the
perpendicular sides of buildings, and by choice close under the eaves of
our broad-roofed houses. Both are built of mud, and the mud is very
generally obtained from roadsides or by the river's edge, but if any of
my readers will endeavour to build up a nest with such mud against an
upright wall, they will attempt an all but impossible task, for as the
curve begins to grow outwards it will with its own weight fall away from
the wall. What is it, then, that the Swallows and Martins do to make
their nests adhere? If you examine an old last year's nest and try and
break the outer shell, you will find it very tough considering the
material it is made of, and the toughening matter is a secretion of
saliva. In the case of some species of Swallows this secretion is so
great that the whole of the nest is made of that substance alone, with
the lining of a few feathers. And it is this nest, cleaned of all
foreign matter which is the base of the much-esteemed delicacy known as
birdnest soup. Few who have partaken of this luxury are perhaps aware
that it is simply solidified saliva.
Of Martins there are two--the House-Martin and the Sand-Martin, both
birds common to Great Britain. Of the latter, literally thousands and
thousands will be seen nesting in colonies in the mud banks by all who
go up and down the river; restless and cheerful, they are one of the
welcome sights of the Nile trip, and often for miles at a stretch the
whole banks are honeycombed with their nesting holes, and ever and
again, moved by some common impulse, hundreds come rushing out and over
the boat with noisy twitterings, and then scattering, gradually return
in ones and twos to their homes again.
WHITE WAGTAIL
Motacilla alba
Crown of head and nape dark grey or black, upper plumage delicate
grey, wings brownish, some of the feathers edged with white; tail
dark-brownish, two outer feathers on each side white; forehead,
most of the cheek and under-parts white, black collar, legs and
bill black, eyes brown. Length, 7 inches.
I have pictured this particular Wagtail as it is perhaps the commonest
of all, but there are several other kinds that at certain seasons might
dispute the point and run it very close. It is very similar,
superficially, to the familiar Pied Wagtail, but is greyer, less
positively black and white, and might well be called the Grey rather
than the White Wagtail. In the winter months, in Egypt, at whatever part
of the country, north or south, you may be, you will see Wagtails of
some sort or another busily chasing flies with ever-restless activity,
and the numbers that there must be of this most useful bird is past all
computation. Wagtails are peculiar in that they are about the smallest
birds that really walk and run. All other
[Illustration: WHITE WAGTAIL]
small birds--finches, warblers, and the rest--move by hopping; but
Wagtails all run, and hardly ever make any semblance of a hop unless the
sudden bound into the air after some passing fly be called a hop. No
bird is neater or more graceful in line than this, and I am sadly
conscious of how little of its real beauty the drawing gives; the
daintiness with which it does everything is singularly beautiful. Though
many pass the winter in Egypt some must go farther south, as when the
time comes for their return to their northern breeding-places in
February and March there is a notable increase in their numbers, and I
remember one particular evening in March when the whole cultivated
ground round the Ramaseum, Thebes, was literally covered with them, and
as darkness came on even more seemed to be dropping in on every side.
The next day, when I went to the same place, the bulk had already gone,
and there were hardly more than you could see at any time.
The Yellow Wagtail is a smaller bird than the White. Ornithologists
record no less than three species as found in Egypt, all having yellow
breasts. The Grey-headed Yellow Wagtail is the one most abundant, and
for beauty is unsurpassed. Its tail is notably shorter than in other
Wagtails, and from my own observation I should say it is a more timid
little bird than others of its kindred.
THE CRESTED LARK
Galerita cristata
All upper plumage brown; the large feathers of wings and tail edged
with a lighter buffish tone; crest of narrow dark-brown feathers
with light edges; back of crest, as one sees under it when raised,
tells very rich dark brown; underparts white spotted and streaked
on breast with dark brown. Length, 6·7 inches.
For once the name does really describe the bird, so that none may be in
any doubt whatever. For the crest is the one thing noticed. I have drawn
one with a fine crest, but have been afraid to make it as big as I have
in one or two cases seen it. Early in February I saw some that I really
think had the crest a full eighth of an inch higher than my drawing
shows. In each case they were undoubtedly showing off to their
lady-love. The crest can be, and often is, raised at an absolute right
angle as to a line horizontal with the beak. The bird is so tame that
frequently it sits on the path so that you fear your donkey will tread
on it, and so common that no one, however unobservant, but must notice
it; it is particularly in evidence on the great Thebes plain across
which all go to the Tombs of the Kings. Its song, as far as I have
heard it, is distinctly pleasant; Captain Shelley calls it "but an
indifferent song," which is severe, as it is a happy little rippling
series of true lark-like notes. It has a good mixed diet, animal and
vegetable, hard grain and soft blade of growing things. When the weather
begins to get warm you will often see this lark, as you may many other
birds, sitting with its mouth open as if gasping for breath; that this
is a sign they do feel the heat is certain, but I do not think that it
shows they are suffering from thirst, for in the cultivation they always
have water all round them in the little canals that run everywhere
through the crops, and if they were thirsty they could very soon quench
it. When on Lake Menzaleh, just on the very limit of Egyptian soil and
Mediterranean Sea, I came across many taking a last rest on the
sandbanks before migrating, and was very struck with their altered
bearing. They were shy and timid, never allowed a close inspection, and
flew away in hurried fashion. This was in the early weeks of April.
[Illustration: CRESTED LARK]
THE WHITE-RUMPED CHAT
Saxicola leucopygia
General plumage, black with slae-blue reflections; rump, white;
tail, black; outside feathers, white; beak and legs, black; eyes,
brown. Length varying from 6-1/2 to 7 inches.
I confess to finding the Chats a puzzling order of birds to identify
when seen in the open. In the case of some, not only is the female
larger, but of such a different aspect and dull sandy colour that it is
really difficult to believe that it is in any way related to the
startlingly plumaged black and white male bird. All the Chats love the
desert more than the cultivated ground, and I myself have never seen
this Chat save on rocks or sand. The visitor going to the Tombs of the
Kings at Thebes, or around the Pyramids, should certainly see this bird,
as it is there common, and owing to its way of flitting sharply from one
point to another, and sitting high up on the top of some boulder, with
its strongly contrasted black and white plumage, is always a very
conspicuous object. What it gets to live on in these desert places is
hard to see, but it does manage to pick up a living on grass or other
seeds and small insects.
Two other Chats very closely related are the Hooded Chat and the
Mourning Chat. The former is very similarly marked on the body, but has
a white top or hood on its head, whilst the latter has the top of its
head a delicate dull grey, and a buffish tone over the under
tail-coverts.
ROSY-VENTED CHAT
Saxicola moesta
Black on sides of face; wings, a blackish brown with lighter
margins; under parts a warm white gradating into a pinkish rufous
as it nears tail; tail, dark at end, white at base; eyes, brown.
Length, 6·2 inches.
This is not so common a bird as the preceding, but still if a sharp
look-out be kept it ought to be seen. It inhabits the desert, but I have
twice seen it on the edge of cultivation, and the particular bird I made
my drawing from got up from stubble just by the river-side. Both this
bird and the White-rumped are closely related to our own Wheatear on one
side and to our Stone-chat on the other. All these birds are alike in
the continued restlessness
[Illustration: WHITE-RUMPED CHAT AND ROSY CHAT]
of their movements, and their habit of flying on in advance as one
approaches, and then settling again on some prominent point till a
nearer approach sends it on again with a flick of its tail till it finds
another suitable perching spot. In the most out-of-the-way desolate
places, where not one blade of vegetation shows itself, and all is
yellow sand and hard grey rock baking in the sun, there you will as
likely as not find Chats of one kind or another, the only living thing,
seemingly, in this great dreary expanse; the dreariness never, however,
seems to affect them. No one has ever seen a Chat in low spirits; it is
always happy and lively, a very Mark Tapley amongst birds.
THE BLUE-THROATED WARBLER
Cyanecula suecica
Plumage of back and top of head dull grey-brown; a light buff
stripe above eye; throat and breast brilliant cobalt-blue, with a
white spot at the top of breast, a bright rufous bar edges the blue
on the lower breast, this red bar sometimes being separated from
the blue by a thin white stripe; under-parts white. The hen bird is
a dull edition of the above, with a buffish-coloured throat, and
more black than blue showing on the breast; legs, beak, and eyes
brown. Total length, 5·5 inches.
This is a common bird throughout Egypt, where it winters. It is related
to our common Robin, to which it bears some resemblance; but it is
rather longer in shape and higher on the leg than the Redbreast.
The Bluethroat is well named, and having once seen this charming little
warbler, it is by its blue throat it will be remembered. The first time
I came across this bird was long ago; but I remember, as if it were
to-day, my delight when the little bird, which had been flitting
about--now on the ground, now in the lower branches and twigs of a bushy
osier--turned so that I saw
[Illustration: BLUE-THROATED WARBLER]
its brilliant ultramarine-blue gorget fringed with a rust-red
band. It had been for some minutes feeding and moving about in the bush
and on the ground, and yet, during the whole of that time, it had never
once turned right head on, and that which was my first experience is,
one finds, a quite usual peculiarity. It always seems to give you a back
view, and from that view you might be justified in thinking it was a
Redstart, as it has the same habit of flitting its tail up and down, and
showing the very orange-red under-parts. Whether it was an accidental
visitation I do not know, but early in the year 1908 the gardens of the
old Luxor Hotel were full of Bluethroats--as soon, pretty well, as you
passed one you came on another. The little water-channels running about
these well-kept grounds seemed to be the point of attraction, as they
were busily hopping about and sometimes into them, and splashing
merrily--hardly serious washing, but a sort of childlike abandon of
pleasure in pleasant surroundings; but even with so many visible, and
seen under such familiar conditions, it was astonishing how seldom any
gave one a front face view. There is a point of great interest in the
two races of Bluethroat, one having a red, the other a white spot on the
blue shield: and this because the red-spotted species goes for its
breeding quarters to the most northern parts of Scandinavia, whilst its
white-spotted cousin goes no farther north than Germany. And we are told
that in spite of Germany's numerous and well-instructed ornithologists
no case has been observed of the red-spotted form ever having stopped in
its transit from Africa, although it must pass right over the country,
till it reaches its nearly Arctic home. This seems to show that this
delicately built, tender little bird probably makes its journey by
night, and so high up that it escapes all observation; and when you
consider the vast distance from Egypt's shores to the far-away mosses of
Scandinavia, it is about as marvellous a journey without a halt as one
can conceive of. Flies, insects, caterpillars, and, when it can get it,
fruit of any kind, form its diet.
The Bluethroat is on the list of British birds, but is one more case of
a bird being so included that really hardly should be, for it is but an
accidental visitor; probably it never meant to come to Britain and only
got there by mistake, when it is generally shot at sight. It is
particularly upright in its carriage and sprightly in its movements; so
quick that eyes unaccustomed to observing birds find it difficult to
see it at all, as with a series of running hops it darts under the shade
of overhanging bush or shrub. In the winter months it hardly utters more
than a simple call-note, but as spring approaches it breaks into song,
and at the end of March I have several times heard it singing most
enchantingly. It seems to sing when on the ground, and not when perched
amongst the bushy undergrowth; and I remember watching one, singing as
lustily as any nightingale, as it stood on a bare bit of stony, sandy
soil, bordering a little pool, fully exposed to view, while I sat
quietly not three yards away.
THE REED WARBLER
Acrocephalus streperus
General plumage a greyish brown; a warmer brown on the wings, and
brighter brown on rump; under parts a delicate white, shading into
buff on the flanks and under tail coverts; a faint light stripe
above eye; legs and beak, brown; eyes, hazel brown. Length, 5-1/4
inches.
The song of any bird is one of the most certain methods, when really
known, of identification. In the case of Warblers and other small birds
that flit about rapidly, and always half-sheltered by vegetation, it is
often exceedingly difficult to get a near and clear view, and very hard
to know exactly to what species it belongs. This is particularly the
case with the Reed and the Sedge Warblers; they stick so close to their
beloved shelter that you rarely get a complete view of them, but if you
will wait quietly and patiently you are sure to hear them burst out into
a shorter or longer song--then is your chance--and if you have the very
slightest sense of music, you will catch the notes peculiar to that bird
and that bird alone. The Reed Warbler's song is very peculiar; it is a
running trill of notes given out exceedingly quickly, and in
[Illustration: REED WARBLER]
an exceedingly loud, noisy, boisterous voice, as if the bird were
in the highest possible spirits. Very unlike that of many of the
singers; the Nightingale, for instance, to every one sounds sad,
plaintive, beautiful, but distinctly not cheerful. I have heard the Reed
Warbler very often at many points on the Nile where there were no reed
beds, but only stunted tamarisk or other shrubs, but in the great reed
beds on and outside Lake Menzaleh I have both seen and heard it in great
numbers, and the quite extraordinary penetrating noise that a number
make when together is most remarkable. It is a most charming active
little bird, a perfect acrobat, and it sings as blithely upside down as
it does right side up. But the most attractive thing about its
life-history is its nest; this it builds in the very heart of some thick
clump of reeds. The accompanying picture shows how when the wind blows
the cradle does rock; but it matters not how much it rocks, the wise
bird builds the nest so deep that the eggs lying snug at the bottom
never get tilted out. In Egypt the bird is, like the bulk of visitors,
but a winter migrant. As it is insectivorous it is of some use in
keeping down the host of flies great and small, and it is said to be
partial to mosquitoes, which should make every one look with favour on
this cheery little songster. I often think it is a mercy that
practically all the song birds are small, for consider what it would
mean if the large birds made noise in the same proportion to their size
that the Reed Warbler does to his,--the world would be a veritable
Babel.
THE SPARROW
Passer domesticus
Top of head a bluish-grey, margined with deep chestnut band over
the eye and ear-coverts; black chin and collar; a white spot behind
the eye; under-parts a silvery grey; wing chestnut with black
spots, with a white bar across it; tail-feathers brown with lighter
edges; eyes hazel; legs and beak pale brown. Entire length, 5·5
inches.
Mr. M. J. Nicoll thinks that the Egyptian Sparrow is a separate local
variety, being always lighter and brighter coloured on the back.
Sparrows here, as elsewhere, distinctly follow man. Where no men are,
you will find no Sparrows. Get only half a mile into the sandy plain
that fringes the cultivation and you will look in vain, or go up the
steep hills, and you may walk for miles and miles and never see one. But
if you come across some of the old-time caravan roads, or a place where
there has been an encampment, then, however wild the surroundings and
otherwise far away from civilized life, you will very likely find a
Sparrow or two looking after some of the droppings from the nose-bags.
In winter they get spread about and are not very noticeable, but when
the corn ripens then they all seem to multiply in extraordinary fashion.
Clouds of them rise up and fly round, startled by the loud cry or stone
slung by the ragged urchin of a bird scarer. I remember well Leighton's
picture of a bird scarer, showing an athletic young fellow, stripped to
the waist, poised on one foot, body bent back, hurling the stone as
David did at Goliath. But in the years I have known Egypt I have never
seen in real life anything approaching that picture, for it is generally
a blear-eyed small boy, half-clothed and hideously dirty, who, standing
on the pathway, yells discordantly and purposely just as you pass him,
sometimes accompanying the cry with a mild little jerky underhand throw
of some clot of hardened soil which possibly breaks in mid-air before
reaching the birds. So no lives are lost, and the birds just fly away
contemptuously to another part of the field. In Nubia it is different,
and there girls as well as boys do really sling stones, and with some
effect. I do not think there is any peculiarity of the life-history of
the Sparrow in Egypt that is
[Illustration: SPARROW
In the Temple at Deir-el-Bahari.]
not equally noticeable wherever it is met with, but whereas at
home it becomes almost a pest from its numbers, here it is not so
noticeable, and its jaunty, sprightly air and carriage are often in
agreeable contrast to the depressing squalor and monochrome, dismal
surroundings. So here it gets blessings and not cursings poured on its
head, and no one calls it "Avian Rat," or any other rude name. I have
pictured it as I often saw it, playing in and out of the decorated
temple walls, in a cleft of which possibly it was born, and the pictures
of which it can honestly say it has been familiar with from earliest
childhood. One cannot help but speculating, does the Sparrow recognize
in the painting its arch-enemy, for the pictured Hawk shown may well, as
far as form is concerned, be meant for a Sparrow Hawk; which Hawk, true
to its name, takes daily toll of all small birds and of Sparrows in
particular. I remember well one day at the Ramaseum where I was
painting--the quick passing shadow and the instant silencing of the
cheery chattering of a host of Sparrows that were all sitting on a small
bush just near me, and looking up, I saw a Sparrow Hawk dash away with a
Sparrow in its talons, whilst the others were flying precipitately away
in all directions. The Sparrow is an omnivorous feeder here, in Egypt,
as it is at home, where nothing that grows comes amiss to it, not even
the early crocuses of our gardens.
THE DESERT BULLFINCH OR TRUMPETER FINCH
Erythrospiza githaginea
General Plumage--Sandy-grey, darker on wings, the larger feathers
of which are edged with bright pink; rump and upper tail-coverts
bright pink, under-parts all creamy pink with the ends of the
feathers carmine, beak large and bright red, legs pinkish
flesh-colour, eyes brown. Total length, 5 inches.
The above description, as are all these descriptions, is of the adult
male bird in full plumage, but the reader must remember that this full,
brilliant plumage is generally worn only during the spring months, and
that if any bird is observed in November or December, it naturally will
not be then wearing its wedding-garment. This is especially true of the
present species; in the winter months it is a quiet-coloured little
bird, hardly to be noticed as it hops about on the cleared ground, to
which its colour is very similar, its red beak alone showing brightly;
and it is only in January that it begins to show any alteration, and
not till the end of February does it look the brilliant pink bird
described above; then it is almost impossible to over-describe its
beauties, and one is in some danger of over-painting it. Shelley says
that the young have the bill pale yellowish-brown, but I have seen
little flocks together, which I take were families, in November, and
every member of the party had brilliant red beaks, though otherwise they
were all dull sandy colour. This bird has a peculiar song or call-note
that is absurdly like that of a little tin trumpet, and this call it
continually utters, especially as it flits about, so that it can thus
often be identified even when too distant to be accurately seen. It is
really a very common bird, but on account of its inconspicuous winter
plumage, is not always noticed. In December 1908, in walking across the
cultivated Thebes valley up to the Tombs of the Kings, I must have seen
many hundreds in those few miles, and when I did not see them I could
frequently hear them. Most people really do not give themselves much
chance of seeing any of the details of bird-life, as they go everywhere
on donkey back, with chattering, ill-behaved boys as retinue, and though
the birds are tame, they naturally fly away at the approach of these
noisy cavalcades.
[Illustration: DESERT BULLFINCH OR TRUMPETER FINCH]
But if only people would walk--and I can see no earthly reason why
they shouldn't, they probably would at home--they would see such a
wealth of charming pictures of bird-life that they would be well
rewarded. As it is I have sometimes asked friends if they had noticed
the extraordinary number of Wagtails, or whatever bird was passing by on
its migration at the time, and have been astonished to find they had
seen none, when sometimes the ground has been literally covered with
them. But no, they go clanging and jolting along, and I suppose do
really see nothing.