“~ . Lie a ~- ~ RURAL | BIRDLIFE — °FENGLAND © ae CORNELL LAB of ORNITHOLOGY LIBRARY AT SAPSUCKER WOODS Illustration of Snowy Owl by Louis Agassiz Fuertes iin | 3 1924 090 318 209 | Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu3 1924090318209 STARLING. RURAL BIRD LIFE OF ENGLAND BEING ESSAYS ON ORNITHOLOGY WITH INSTRUCTIONS FOR PRESERVING OBJECTS RELATING TO THAT SCIENCE BY CHARLES DIXON With Forty-five Tilustrations and a Preface BY DR. ELLIOTT COUES, U.S.A. Author of ‘‘ Key to North American Birds,” ‘‘ Field Ornithology,”’ “Birds of the Northwest,” Etc. CHICAGO NEW YORK THE WERNER COMPANY 1895 COPYRIGHT 1880 By ESTES anp LAURIAT COPYRIGHT 1895 By THE WERNER COMPANY Rural Bird Life ORNITH (lL. 6% DOr 1ST AMERICAN EDITOR’S PREFACE. Tue publication of Charles Dixon’s “Rural Bird-Life” in America renders it desirable to say a few words by way of introducing these agreeable Essays on Ornithology to the read- ers whom the book will undoubtedly win for itself in this country. It might seem at first sight unlikely that a treatise devoted entirely to British Birds, very few of which are ever seen in the United States, could have any special interest for the new circle of acquaintances to whom the American publishers address the work. But my examination of these pieces of bird-biography have satisfied me that their merit has only to be known to be appreciated as highly here as elsewhere. Mr. Dixon’s example may be followed with no less profit than. pleasure in this coun- try ; for the lessons which he teaches respecting the pursuit of ornithology are restricted in their applicability to the native birds of no single region. The study of the life of English birds, under this author’s guidance and in his agreeable company, will go far toward fitting one to enter easily and successfully upon those personal experiences with our native species which are necessary in order to become a good practical ornithol- ogist. iv AMERICAN EDITORS PREFACE. The aspects of Nature change ceaselessly, by day and by night, through the seasons of the year, with every difference of latitude and longitude; and endless are the profusion and variety of the results which illustrate the operation of her laws. But, let the productions of different climes and countries be never so unlike, she works by the same methods; the spirit of her teachings never changes; Nature herself is always the same, and the same wholesome, satisfying lessons are to be learned in the contemplation of any of her works. We may change our skies, but not our minds, in crossing the sea to gain a glimpse of that bird-life which finds its exact counterpart in our own woods and fields, at the very threshold of our own homes. The practical utility of Mr. Dixon’s work, as well as its adaptability to the wants of American students and amateur ornithologists, may easily be shown; and it is not difficult to explain exactly how the book may be used to great advantage by all those who have a taste for natural-history pursuits, and a desire to study birds in earnest, yet hardly know how to make a beginning. The author gives more or less perfect sketches —in some cases, finished pictures — of the habits of some sixty or seventy kinds of British Birds. These are for the most part common and familiar species in his country, though only very few of them —such as the ubiquitous House Sparrow — can be studied in our own. I would advise the reader to turn first to his author’s account of the character and habits of that bird, to see whether or not it agrees with his own experiences. Should it be found concordant, as far as it goes, with his own observations, he may ask himself if there be not something still to be added, as a ~ AMERICAN EDITOR'S PREFACE. v further contribution to the natural history of this interesting bird ; and he may not impossibly be thus stimulated to enter upon original investigations. Should he differ with his author in any particulars, the interesting question would be raised, how far the domestic economy of the bird has been modified under the new conditions of its transplantation. Any single instance like this may be made, at the hands of an earnest and enthu- siastic student, a means to the end of most important problems in natural history —like Huxley’s Crayfish, already become so famous an illustration of the broadest principles of biological science. Again, let the reader take up one of the histories of some species entirely unknown to him—say the Song-Thrush or the Missel-Thrush of England — and read carefully what his author has to say of these birds. He scarcely needs to be informed of the fact that we recognize in ornithology what are called “rep- resentative species ;” that is, species of one country which take the place of, correspond to, or otherwise represent more or less closely allied species of another country. Having found out what Mr. Dixon knows of the Song- or Missel-Thrush, let him ask himself the question, ‘Do I know as much as this about the Wood-Thrush or the Hermit-Thrush of my own country? Could I give as complete an account of their habits?” The point is very clear, — Mr. Dixon’s book is nothing if not original. I have seldom examined a treatise composed of fresher material, or one relying less upon the authority of other writers. This is marked merit for the days when one of the chief uses of books seems to be to breed books, and when writers in ornithology spend in their libraries much time that might be better spent in the field, and devote more attention vi AMERICAN EDITORS PREFACE. to what is said about birds by others than to the story that birds themselves will tell if rightly questioned. The student of Ameri- can ornithology may be assured that he cannot find out for himself as much about our birds as Mr. Dixon has to tell him of British birds without becoming a good practical ornitholo- gist. Such is the ground on which I recommend the volume to his attention; and that this is something beyond the mere pleasure he may derive in perusing it is readily to be per- ceived. In furtherance ‘of the object that I have in view in prefacing the work of another with these few remarks, I would call the reader’s attention to the following lists of birds. In one column is the list of species treated by Mr. Dixon, with their technical names. In the other I present an equal number of American species, the study of whose natural history may profitably be undertaken according to the author’s method and in imitation of his example. In a few cases only, the names are identical. In some other instances, they are those of strictly representative birds. But, in any event, the two columns agree closely enough ato answer the purpose, though some of the groups of Britis: Birds have nothing to correspond exactly in this country. Britis Brrps. American Brrps. Song Thrush. . . Turdus musicus. Wood Thrush . . Turdus mustelinus. Missel Thrush Turdus viscivorus. Hermit Thrush. . Turdus pallasi. Redwing . . . . Turdus iliacus. Olive-backed Thrush Turdus swainsoni. Fieldfare . . . . Turdus pilaris. Wilson’s Thrush . Turdus fuscescens. Ring Ouzel . . Turdus torquatus. Varied Thrush . Turdus nevius. Blackbird. . . Turdus merula. Robin . . » Turdus migratorius, Dipper. + «+ «+ Cinclus aquaticus. Dipper. + « Cinclus mexicanus. Hedge Accentor . Accentor modularis, Oven-bird. » .» Siurus auricapillus. Robin. . 1. Erythacus rubecula, Bluebird . S Sialia sialis. Redstart . . . Ruticilla phoenicurus. Redstart... . Setophaga ruticilla. Stonechat. . . . Pratincola rubicola. Thrasher . , » Harporhynchus rufus Wheatear . . . Saxicola he Wh . « « Saxicol b AMERICAN EDITORS PREFACE. vii ‘BriTIsH Birps. Whinchat . Spotted Flycatcher Blackcap soe Whitethroat . Willow Warbler Chiffchaff. . . Sedge Warbler . Pratincola rubetra. Muscicapa grisola. Sylvia atricapilla. Sylvia rufa. AMERICAN Birps. Catbird « «+ « Mimus carolinensis. Wood Pewee . . Contopus virens. Black-poll . . . Dendreeca atricapilla. Yelldw-rump. . . Dendreeca coronata. Phylloscopus trochilus. Summer Warbler . Dendreeca zstiva. Phylloscopus collybita. Green Warbler . Dendreeca virens. Calamodus — schceno- } benus. . Gold-crested Kinglet Regulus cristatus. Great Titmouse. Blue Titmouse . Cole Titmouse . Parus major. Parus ceeruleus. Parus ater. Long-tailed Titmouse Acredula caudata. Wagtails . . . Tree Pipit Meadow Pipit . Skylark ... Yellow Bunting . Common Bunting . Reed Bunting . Chaffinch . Brambling House Sparrow . Tree Sparrow . Bullfinch . Linnet . . Redpoll Greenfinch Goldfinch. . Starling . . . Jackdaw . Carrion Crow . Rook Magpie q Jay... . Woodpecker. . Creeper Wren Kingfisher a Cuckoo. . . « Swallow . Martin. . Swift . 1. Kestrel. . Motacilla. Anthus trivialis. Anthus pratensis. Alauda arvensis. Emberiza citrinella. Emberiza miliaria. Emberiza scheeniclus. Fringilla coelebs. Fringilla montifringil- la. Passer domesticus. Passer montanus- Pyrrhula europza. Linota cannabina. €giothus linaria. Ligurinus chloris. Carduelis elegans. Sturnus vulgaris. Corvus monedula. Corvus corone. Corvus frugilegus Pica rustica. Garrulus glandarius. Picus major. Certhia famihans. Troglodytes parvuius. Alcedo ispida. Cuculus canorus. Hirundo rustica. Chelidon urbica. Cypselus apus. Falco tinnunculus. { Yellow-throat . Geothlypis trichas. Gold-crested Kinglet Regulus satrapa. Tufted Titmouse Lophophanes bicolor, Verdin. . . Auriparus flaviceps. Chickadee ; Parus atricapillus. Bush Tit . . . Psaltriparus minimus. Wagtail . . . Budytes flava (?). Sprague’s Lark. . Neocorys spraguii. Titlark. . ‘ Anthus ludovicianus. Shore Lark » « Eremophila alpestris. Towhee Bunting { Pipilo erythrophthal- , mus. Song Sparrow . . Melospiza fasciata. Savanna Sparrow Passerculus savana. Indigo Bird . . Passerina cyanea. Rose-breastedGros- Zamelodia !udovici- beak... + «0 ana. House Sparrow . Passer domesticus. Tree Sparrow . . Spizella monticola. Purple Finch . Carpodacus purpureus. Pine Finch . « Chrysomitris pinus. Redpoll . . . . Afgiothus linaria. Black-throated . + . Euspiza americana. Bunting Goldfinch. . . . Astragalinus tristis. Field Lark . . . Sturnella magna. Purple Grakle . . Quiscalus purpureus. Common Crow . . Corvus americanus. Fish Crow . « . Corvus ossifragus. Magpie . « « Pica hudsonica. Jay... . + . Cyanocitta cristata. Woodpecker. - . Picus villosus. Creeper . . - . Certhia familiaris. House Wren. { Troglodytes domesti- cus, Kingfisher . . . Ceryle alcyon. Cuckoo . . . . Coccygus americanus. Swallow + « . Hirundo horreorum, Martin . ae Progne subis. Swift . . . . . Chetura pelagica. Sparrow Hawk . . Falco sparverius. vill AMERICAN EDITORS PREFACE. Britis Brrps. Sparrow Hawk . Accipiter nisus. Barn Owl . Aluco flammeus. Ring Dove . . « Columba palumbus, Pheasant . Phasianus colchicus. Partridge. . . » Perdix cinerea. Quail... Coturnix communis Lagopus scoticus. Vanellus cristatus Red Grouse. . - Lapwing... © Fi Tringoides hypoleu- Sandpiper . { ee) \ Snipe... . Gallinago gallinaria. Land Rail Crex pritensis. Moorhen Gallinuja chloropus. Coot . . + Fulica atra. Swan Cygnus olor. WasuincTon, D.C. AMERICAN Brrps. Sharp-shinned Hawk Accipiter fuscus. Bam Owl. . . . Aluco pratincola. Zenaidura_ carolinen- | sis. Canace canadensis. Carolina Dove . Spruce Grouse . Ruffed Grouse Bonasa umbellus. Bob-white Ortyx virginiana. Ptarmigan Lagopus albus. Killdeer . . . . Agialitis vocifera. ‘ Tringoides macula- Sandpiper . 7 { des: Snipe Gallinago wilsoni. Water Rail . Porzana carolina. Gallinule Gallinula galeata. Coot .. . Fulica americana. Swan... . . Cygnus americanus. ELLIOTT COUES. PREFACE. — +++ I HAVE now for years been engaged in a study of Orni- thology ; and from my numerous notes, principally on the economy of our commoner inland birds, I conceived the idea that from them might be compiled a little volume that might doubtless prove of interest to those persons who have a love for rural pursuits and the study of nature. There are also I believe a few fresh facts on the economy of birds noted, which I respectfully submit to working ornithologists, as well as several moot questions, relating to the natural history of birds, discussed, and opinions, gained by experience, promulgated. Had I spent more of my time amongst books instead of amongst bogs, I have no doubt but what this little volume would have found more favour amongst a certain class of naturalists, no matter how questionable or erroneous the matter it contained. But such was never my intention. A work purely original I intended it to be—a work whose materials have been obtained by un- x PREFACE, wearied personal observation in the field and the forest, and for the most part written in the several haunts of the birds described, and free from the harsh, and, in a measure, unmeaning technicalities with which at the present time ornithology is so pervaded, to the utter confusion of every aspirant to this delightful science. If, through a perusal of this unpretending. little volume, I may be the remote cause of sending.a few fresh labourers into the vineyard of ornithology, my labours have not been in vain, and it will please me much. Should the then intending ornithologist wish for a more technical insight into the science he has adopted, I re- commend him to acquaint himself with one of the few useful exhaustive works on this science. where he will obtain the information he seeks. My object in giving publicity to this little work has been solely to excite a love for the study of the feathered tribes—to place in a popular form the true economy of birds, showing their relations and positions in Nature’s great system; and to thee, gentle reader, J leave the task of saying if I have succeeded. With these few remarks I commit it to your considerate care. CHARLES DIXON. HEELEY, NEAR SHEFFIELD CONTENTS. eS PAGE PAIRING INSTINCT OF BirDs ‘ . . ° . : I PROTECTIVE INSTINCT OF BIRDS . . ‘ . ai 7 Hasits oF BiRDs A y a ‘ « * ; ‘ 4 17 THE SONG-THRUSH : A F , s . ‘ og. “24 THE MISSEL-THRUSH . : . : . ‘ a Fi 31 THE REDWING AND FIELDFARE . 4 ‘ x ‘ » 39 THE Rinc Ouse ‘ ; 3 . . F _ 47 THE BLACKBIRD . : : 4 . . =e 52 THE DIPPER ‘ ; : : : F ‘ : 58 THE HEDGE ACCENTOR : , ‘ : 65 THE RoBIN. ‘ é ‘ , F ‘ ‘ ‘ » 70 THE REDSTART . ‘ F “ é . . » « 98 THE STONECHAT AND WHEATEAR : . : . 82 THE WHINCHAT . ‘ : 4 é z 89 THE SPOTTED OR GRay FLYCATCHER ‘ - 94 Tue BLACKCAP AND WHITETHROATS . ; : ; » 9 THE WILLOW WARBLER . ‘ : e . 108 THE Woop WREN, CHIFFCHAFF, AND SEDGE WARBLER . Is4 THE GOLD-CRESTED KINGLET . : ‘ ‘ ‘ : + 120 THE GREAT TITMOUSE AND BLUE TITMOUSE ‘ i # 4b E25 xii CONTENTS. THE CoLe TiTMOUSE AND LONG-TAILED TITMOUSE WAGTAILS THE TREE Pipir ; - i . : ‘ THE MeEapow PIpit ‘ ‘ é THE SKYLARK THE YELLOW BUNTING. TuE COMMON BUNTING AND REED BUNTING . % TUE CHAFFINCH AND BRAMBLING THE House SPARROW AND TREE SPARROW : P ‘ THE BULLFINCH j ; . ‘ ‘ . THE LINNET AND REDPOLL , é i Tue GREENFINCH AND GOLDFINCH : - : : THE STARLING ‘ ‘ i e “ ‘ . THE JACKDAW AND CARRION CROW. . . THE Rook . ‘ ‘ ‘ ; ” : THE MAGPIE . ‘ P . ‘ . * THE Jay. THE WoOoDPECKER AND CREEPER. ‘ 5 ' r THE WREN. ‘ ‘ < 4 a * THE KINGFISHER . . : . . . . THE CucKoo : ‘ * . . ‘ i ‘ i THE SWALLOW ‘ ‘ . , ‘ ¥ 2 ; MARTINS. F ‘ x . . a . ‘ THE SWIFT . ‘ ‘ C é 5 ‘i ‘i a THE KESTREL . : js C 7 . 7 ‘ - THE SPARROWHAWK, . . . . . s Tue Barn OWL. . , . wg ww, THE Kine Dove , , A ‘ . . . ° CONTENTS. xiii PAGE THE PHEASANT . ; : ; : . : ‘ ; . 298 THE PARTRIDGE AND QUAIL. - , ‘ 303 THE RED GROUSE 309 THE LAPWING ‘ 315 THE COMMON SANDPIPER 320 THE SNIPE. 326 THE LANDRAIL 331 THE MOORHEN AND Coot me : 337 THE Swan . 343 EVERGREENS AND BIRD-LIFE. 347 HI1ntTs TO ORNITHOLOGISTS 354 INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE PRESERVATION OF ORNITHOLOGICAL OBJECTS : ‘ ‘ f 2 f fi i F LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, et, PLATES. STARLING : . . . . . : . to face page I MAGPIE i . a ry ‘. . 5 ens si8 222 MARTINS . 7 a . is . - - F 46 264 PHEASANT . ‘ a a . A * Peer 5 298 WOODCUTS IN TEXT. PAGE PAGE Sonc-THRUSH . F . 24 | WILLow WARBLER 108 REDWING AND FIELDFARE 39 | SEDGE WARBLER . . 114 BLACKBIRD . 52 | GOLD-CRESTED KINGLET . 120 DIPPER : ? . 58 | GREAT TITMOUSE 125 HEDGE ACCENTOR 2 65 | WaGTaILs 3 a ee BY. RoBIN : : » 70 | Mgeapow Piritr - 150 WHEATEAR . : . . 82 | SKYLARK : . - + 156 WHINCHAT ‘ ‘ . 89 | REED BUNTING . d . 167 SPOTTED FLYCATCHER . 94 | CHAFFINCH . : ye PGT xvi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. TREE SPARROW . BULLFINCH LINNET GOLDFINCH JACKDAW Rook jJay GREAT SPOTTED PECKER WREN KINGFISHER . Cuckoo. ‘ Woop- SWALLOW KESYIREL SPARROWHAWK BaRN OWL. Rinc Dove PARTRIDGE . RED GROUSE. LAPWING SNIPE MOORHEN . Swan BLOWPIPE AND DRILL PAGE 257 274 280 287 292 393 309 315 326 337 343 363 RURAL BIRD LIFE. PAIRING INSTINCT OF BIRDS. COURTEOUS READER, before noticing the haunts and economy of any particular bird, it may not be out of place to give thee a short collective account of their pairing instincts, the many and varied arts birds dis- play for the safety of their eggs or young, and also a few remarks on the habits of birds in general. The pairing instinct of birds has always been a sub- ject of much dispute amongst naturalists, and indeed one of a very perplexing nature. I have found it to be a subject which few writers on ornithology treat with a -proper-amount of care, while others refrain entirely from introducing it into their works. I consider it to be one of the most important traits in the character of the feathered tribes—an amount of instinct given alike to the lordly Eagle and the diminutive Wren, and that, no matter under which particular division it may come, harmonises with, and is essential to, the habits and requirements of the birds practising it. Birds may be divided into three classes ; viz., firstly, those birds which, having once paired, remain together for life ; secondly, birds which pair annually ; and thirdly, birds which never pair, but are polygamous. The young B 2 RURAL BIRD LIFE. naturalist must bear in mind that every bird, no matter of what species or inhabiting what part of the globe, comes under one of these three divisions. I will briefly glance at these three divisions, and give the opinions I have arrived at in a matter to which I have paid no small degree of care and attention. We will take, firstly, those birds which pair for life. ‘ Swallows are an excellent type of this class, returning annually to their old nestizg-sztes for the same purpose as previously. The Martin returns to its old mest. But to some this may appear incredible, knowing that these birds perform long migrations, and may get separated while upon them. Do these birds get finally separated when in large companies they are searching the air for their food? or do Rooks, Starlings, and Jackdaws fail to remember the position of their nests? The same instinct which informs the Swallows when to leave Africa, in like manner urges them onwards to their old nests; and again the same pair of birds will perform the duties of incubation. We all know that the same nesting-site will be yearly tenanted, provided the birds are left unmolested. This must be by the same pair of birds, not their young, as is erroneously supposed, for what ornithologist has ever in the course of his observa- tions seen swallows prying about into barns and out- buildings in search of some old nest, which will save them the labour of constructing one themselves? The time would be so taken up in this search, that no brood would be reared. Young birds pair most likely before their migration to us, and search out nesting-sites upon their arrival in this country. Again, the Rook is another bird which I believe pairs for life. At the commencement of the breeding season rooks (unmolested by the other members of the PAIRING INSTINCT OF BIRDS. 3 rookery) return to their old nests, and commence doing the necessary repairs required for the comfort of their future brood ; while others, whose nests have been des- troyed, diligently set to work to reconstruct them in the same sites, in company with many of the last year’s brood which have paired some time during the previous six months. Can any ornithologist inform me of any com- bat he has been witness to for the choice of the nests which have withstood the storms of winter? A few pairs of rooks will sometimes desert the general rookery and build their nests in neighbouring trees, returning to them yearly. Ravens, Magpies, Jackdaws, Starlings, House Spar- rows, birds of the Falcon tribe and Titmice, have all been known to return to their nests of the previous season. I have known the Robin and the Wren return to their old sites (but not to the old nests) for several years. From what I have observed, the Ringdove and Partridge too are very probably life- paired” species. From these instances I would infer that all birds which return to their old nests or nesting-sites for the same purpose every season pair for life. Witness the various marks of affection constantly passing between life-paired birds: keeping in each other’s company, feeding, often the male bird feeding his mate, flying and roosting together, so that the observer, as a rule, experiences but little difficulty in identifying them. Ovid must have had life-paired birds in mind when he wrote the follow- ing lines expressive of constancy in the male bird :— Hanc cupit, hanc optat ; sola suspirat in illa ; Signaque dat nutu, solicitatque notis. In the second place, those birds which pair annually : the birds which form this division are the most numerous 4 RURAL BIRD LIFE. of any. We have many instances of this class: as a good type we will take the Willow Warbler. When these birds first arrive in this country they are never in pairs, and indeed the male birds arrive a little before the females. But observe them a few weeks later; they have all found a mate, and are employed in domestic duties. It is the nature of these birds to make, fresh nests every season, and never in the same positicn or locality. When once these birds have left their nests, and the young can forage for themselves, I firmly believe all connection between the two birds ceases ; the nests are abandoned, never to be returned to, and the birds roam about searching for food, very often solitary, until the time of migration arrives. Several of the Thrushes are for the most part solitary in their habits except in the breeding season, while others roam about in flocks, very often the males or females being predominant ; but as spring arrives, separating into pairs for incubation, after which the same routine is again repeated. The Chaffinch is the same—in flocks during the winter, the sexes not at all social ; but as the breed- ing season approaches they are again seen in pairs for the propagation of their species. The Snipes, Plovers, and Rails all pair annually, with the exception of the Mcorhen and Coot when living in a semi-domesticated state. In the same manner the Buntings, Larks, many of the Finches, Warblers, all pair in their due season. All these birds’ nests, after once serving their pur- pose, are abandoned for ever: a walk round the leafless hedges will confirm this. Will the frail little White- throat use yon abode again? or will yonder Chaffinches’ nest ever more harbour another brood? Will the Sand- piper return to the cavity which once contained her eggs? or the Skylark seek out her home in the mea- PAIRING INSTINCT OF BIRDS. 5 dow grass again? These birds pair annually, and of course select each successive year a fresh situation for the birthplace of their young. In the third place, we will take that class of birds which never pair, or are polygamous. It is only in one division of our present classification that we can trace those of polygamous habits—in the first section of the -Gallinaceous birds. In all birds which are polygamous the female alone is entrusted with all care of the eggs or young, and she, through a wise provision of Nature, is made equal to the emergency. The male shows little or no affection for them. From this I would infer that all birds of the Gallinaceous order, with few exceptions, are polygamous. I proceed now to give exceptions, which tend greatly to perplex and bewilder the observer in the study of this interesting subject. This matter presents very little uniformity in its arrangement. In the Gallina- ceous order of birds the first section are polygamous in their habits; but even to this the Red Grouse, for instance, forms an exception ; while the latter section of these birds, birds of the pigeon tribe, to wit, are decidedly monogamous in their habits. The House Sparrow returns to its nesting-site, and is thus at variance with its congeners of the same family. The tame Duck is polygamous ; but observe its wild re- presentative, the Mallard, which separates into pairs for nidification. The Long-tailed Titmouse never returns to its beautiful abode, while the Blue Titmouse appears annually at its hole in the hollow tree. The Goatsucker annually pairs, while Swallows, Swifts, and Martins, I believe, remain united for life. The Rook I have once observed practising polygamous propensities, a fact per- haps never before recorded. Are those birds which pair for life gifted with a 6 RURAL BIRD LIFE. greater amount of affection than those which pair every season, and what ends are gained by such procedure ? While those who pair every season, as soon as the young are sufficiently matured to take care of themselves, do the ties which previously united them together entirely cease, and for what reason? Is this peculiar instinct, call it affection if you will, wanting in polygamous birds, and why? Is it because the presence of the males would probably, owing to their conspicuous colours, &c., lead to the destruction of their brood, were they to share the duties of incubation with the females? If this be so, we cannot but admire the peculiar instinct which exists within them, and instead of considering the male bird wanting in affection for his mate and offspring, by his very absence he contributes largely to their welfare. In many species of birds—notably the water birds—it is difficult to say under which of my first two divisions they fall. This subject, deeply pondered, only tends to show us upon what an intricate foundation the system of Nature is based ; and, though apparently of but small moment, we may rest assured that the part it plays in the economy of the feathered race is no unimportant one. PROTECTIVE INSTINCT OF BIRDS. 7 PROTECTIVE INSTINCT OF BIRDS. Safety depends on: vigilance. A PERSON frequently in the haunts of the feathered tribes during the nesting season, will not fail to observe the numerous artifices these creatures practise for the safety of their nests, eggs, or young; and though these little artifices are often of a varied nature, yet but one end is in view, and that the preservation of their treasure. But, it is naturally asked, What is the cazse of these peculiar motions, and what prompts the birds to practise them ¢ Instinct, not imitation, explains fully the cause, and instinct again explains the prompting power. If imita- tion were the theory on which they worked, all birds would practise these powers in the same manner as their parents did before them. But this is not so, for many, if not all birds, at some period of their existence, are called upon to exert their powers in a manner befitting and harmonising with surrounding circumstances. Can we, therefore, explain this power by anything save a protective instinct ?>—an instinct which is as infallible as the great and mighty Power which causes the creature to manifest it. I would here, gentle reader, have thee to understand that none of the varied protective arts dis- played by birds in guarding their eggs or young are due toforethought. To credit the bird with this power would be to endow it with reason at once—a power found in a 8 RURAL BIRD LIFE. noble man alone. A bird has not the remotest idea that its nest will be plundered, or its young destroyed, but it has existing within it, and planted there through the agency of a subtle and powerful law, a certain power which we call ‘instinct,’ which it irresistibly displays in its own particular manner, without any knowledge of the good it is working for the protection and safety of its eggs and young; yet in such an effectual manner are these wiles displayed, as to keep up its species till time shall be no more, or Nature’s designing hand wills that its race shall cease to be. I intend dividing this peculiar instinct into six divi- sions, and will take them in the following order:— Firstly, colour; secondly, mirhicry; thirdly, silence; fourthly, alluring motions; fifthly, pugnacious motions; and, sixthly, deceptive motions. Colour.—lf we wish to observe examples of this pe- culiar instinct, we must stroll into the nesting-grounds of the Pheasant, for instance, and there we shall find that the female bird, with a mother’s watchful care, upon leaving her charge fora short time to recruit her failing strength with necessary food, covers her eggs with pieces of vege- tation strictly harmonising with the colour of the herbage around. Thus, if her nest—or cavity, for a nest it can scarcely be called—in which her eggs are deposited is situated amongst a tangled mass of bracken, the. bird will cover her eggs with the same material. Should her eggs be snugly ensconced in the shelter of a tuft of grass, materials harmonising in colour will be used to cover them during her temporary absence. When the bird is upon her charge, her own plumage so closely resem- bles the surroundings, that, trusting in these for safety, . she remains faithful to it, until perhaps unwittingly trodden upon by an intruder. Again, the Sand Grouse PROTECTIVE INSTINCT OF BIRDS. 9 are striking instances of this peculiar form of instinct. Their colours so harmonise with those of the arid waste on which they live, that when the birds are sitting upon their eggs discovery is almost impossible. The Red Grouse, when sitting, so closely resembles the moorland vegetation around, that the finding of her treasure is due more to accident than design ; and well does the parent bird know in what direction safety lies, and unerringly does she adhere to it. The Terns and most shore birds, impelled by the same protective instinct, deposit their eggs only upon those portions of the beach which display the same tints as they do. In this manner numerous in- stances might be brought forth as examples, but the remarks upon this somewhat lengthy subject must of necessity be brief. We will now, therefore, glance at the next division. Mimicry—tThis peculiar form of instinct is closely allied to the preceding one, and if it were not for a few incidents peculiar only to this division, it would be dif- ficult to distinguish more than a slight difference between them. One of the first birds gifted with this instinct is the gay little Chaffinch. Observe how closely she imi- tates the surroundings in the structure of her nest, how beautifully it is silvered over with lichen, if on the rugged branch of a tree covered with similar material. If in the centre of a glossy evergreen, lichens are discarded, and bright shining green moss substituted in their place. If in the centre of a hawthorn, bedecked with fair and beautiful flowers, protective instinct impels her to gild her handiwork with small scraps of paper, so that, to a casual eye, the whole structure, imitating as it does the flowers around, appears a tangled mass of bloom. How artfully does the Water Ouzel imitate the colour of sutrounding objects ,her nest being invariably placed 10 RURAL BIRD LIFE. hear a running stream, amongst the brightest moss, composed of similar materials; the dampness of the situation keeping them in all their verdant beauty, and thus concealing the nest of the bird, whose protective instinct lies in utilising them for her purpose. The beautiful nest of the Long-tailed Titmouse is again an instance of this protective instinct, and so is that of the Wren. The Robin also finds safety under its banner, and the delicately formed Gold-crest assimilates her nest to surrounding circumstances by weaving the branches of the fir amongst moss of the same colour, the whole appearing to a careless eye nothing but a mass of foliage. And then how beautifully do the sombre greens of the little Dunnock’s nest contrast with the colours of the vernal year around. In all these cases how artfully and well the little architects use to the best advantage those materials which their unerring instinct leads them to make use of for the welfare of their young. Stleyce—Perhaps many persons will scarcely com- prehend this peculiar form of instinct, yet such a form does undoubtedly exist, and that too in many of our commonest birds. Take, for instance, the little Willow Warbler, and note carefully how she leaves her tem- porary home. Her nest being often ill concealed, silence is her forte and well does she practise it. Observe the garrulous little Whitethroat leave her nest, so silently threading her way from her treasure—so silently as to be seldom heard; and then, when at a safe distance from the neighbourhood of her abode, how joyously she gives forth notes of seeming defiance and alarm. How often does the silent protective instinct of the Dartford Warbler manifest itself, the bird when scared from its nest leaving it silently, and PROTECTIVE INSTINCT OF BIRDS. II going for a considerable distance under the surrounding vegetation ere it appears, by its silent motions thus lead- ing an inexperienced intruder far away from her treasured home. Again, how silently the Bunting leaves her charge, and what a deceptive little creature is the Grasshopper Warbler! I have often been deceived by their silent motions when in the neighbourhood of their nests. Silence, again, is the protective instinct of many of the Thrushes, some of them remaining faithful to their charge until compelled to leave it, and then as silently as pos- sible. But should the bird find her nest discovered quite accidentally, as many are, her instinct is not put in force, and the faithful parent flies quickly off, and anxiously watches the movements of the aggressor from her perch- ing-place near at hand. Ihave known many of these birds allow themselves to be touched by the hand, and remain silent, trying to the utmost their peculiar protective in- stinct for the welfare of their treasured eggs or young. The Pipits, again, employ silence for the safety of their nests, the nest being almost buried in the herbage around, and the watchful bird remaining silently upon her charge, observing with anxious eye the motions of the intruder till he retreats from her ‘castle,’ or perhaps almost treads upon the devoted parent and her house. When forced reluctantly to leave it, she does so as quietly as possible, and in most if not all cases this silent protective instinct is crowned with success and safety. If these birds were not gifted with this peculiar instinct, and left their nests in a precipitate manner, numbers of their eggs or young would be destroyed, which, however, through its agency, are brought up to maturity under its protective influences. Alluring motions—I consider this peculiar form of protective instinct one of the most beautiful evidences of 12 RURAL BIRD LIFE. an All-wise Providence. Where is the naturalist who, when he sees a bird practising its varied motions, does not admire the little actor, and if possessed of any feeling as beseemeth a true naturalist, leave her victorious, to attend to her domestic cares in peace? Although all these protective motions claim admiration from a lover of animated nature, yet the power now under notice is perhaps most readily manifest to a casual observer. Let us stroll down this sandy shore. ‘Observe yon little Sandpiper which has just started up from our feet, endeavouring to make us concentrate all our attention upon herself. Fearlessly she reels and tumbles before us, while her mate from yonder group of rocks is encouraging her with notes of condolence. Why is she so anxious? Her treasured eggs are on the sandy shore, and the little sand-bird is trying to the utmost those powers which an All-wise Providence leads her to manifest for the safety of her one and all-absorbing care. Now we will repair to the barren waste. Here the Lapwing, driven by resistless impulse, will flutter with seemingly broken wings, now tumbling, now running, uttering her mournful cries, but in all these motions the watchful bird is endeavouring to lead us from her home on this dreary moor. Why is she so anxious? Disregard the motions of the watchful mother, and we shall probably find, after a scrutinising search, her eggs on some slight eminence, or her little ones nestling closely in the friendly shelter of the scanty herbage. The young themselves, even at this early age, manifest no slight degree of instinct for their self-preservation. These alluring motions are not confined to the female alone, for her mate, in another direction, is performing various aerial gyrations, which would lead an inexperienced person to believe that the PROTECTIVE INSTINCT OF BIRDS. 13 bird is circling over those treasures it is seeking to , defend by so many artful and varied antics. Pugnacious motions. ~These motions form one of the most decided and marked of all the divisions. With man, they almost if not entirely fail, but against their natural enemies this peculiar power is of effectual service. As a homely type of this protective instinct we will take the Missel-thrush. How admirably she defends her treasure from all predaceous animals, flying at them with such fury as to compel them to beat a hasty retreat from the neighbourhood of her home. Such is the impelling power of this instinct, that the birds, with only the safety of their nests in view, will attack, and come off victorious, even when matched against that little tyrant the Sparrow-hawk. Notice yon Mag- pie coming suspiciously near the nest of the Missel-thrush —bent upon plunder, it is evident. How craftily he approaches! Ah! the watchful parent Missel-thrush has descried him, and, with a note of defiance which echoes through the silent woods, she chases the intruder: her mate, too, on hearing her cries, appears upon the scene, and aids in repelling the would-be robber. The Magpie, crestfallen enough at the failure of his designs,is glad to beat a hasty retreat, and is no doubt thankful if he escapes with only the loss of a few feathers. The Ring Ousel employsthe same power for the protection of its nest, eggs, or young, and will even dash fearlessly into the face of a human intruder, uttering cries of mingled rage, defiance, anxfety, and alarm, should he approach her treasured nest. and its priceless contents. Birds of prey also come under this division, and will even attack man himself when he approaches their nests. Instances are on record where the human aggressor came off second best in these encounters. The Raven 4 RURAL BIRD LIFE. and others of the Crow family find safety under this peculiar instinct, and woe betide the predaceous animal that is caught lurking in the neighbourhood of their abode. The Titmice are also included, and will, by hissing, biting, and other pugnacious actions, endeavour to repel the intruder from their eggs or young. Deceptive motions—The last division on which my remarks will bear is of frequent occurrence amongst the feathered tribes. Prominent amongst its followers is the Lark. Note how deceptively she repairs to her nest, by darting suddenly downwards into the herbage at some distance from it, proceeding the remainder of the way by running, thus baffling the searcher in discovering her abode. What a roundabout way the Winchat repairs to her nest, occasionally darting downwards into the thick grass. Surely that is the situation of the nest. But no! up flies the little bird, and, perched on some tall stem of herbage, looks warily around, and again silently alights in the friendly cover. ‘Found at last!’ is our exclamation, and we rush hastily to the spot, but are somewhat crestfallen to find no nest and even no bird. How is this? Her protective instinct has been at work. Influenced by its unerring power, she has used these deceptive motions in regaining her nest, which is doubtless many yards away from the place of her final descent into the friendly cover. Then, again, the Rails manifest various deceptive motions in retiring from and regaining their nests. Who, also, has not observed wonderful instances of this protective power in the manner the Starling approaches her abode? In places where these birds are left unmolested no such power appears, but when the birds are far from the busy hum of cities, how warily they approach, and will not betray their nesting-hole even if thereby prevented from PROTECTIVE INSTINCT OF BIRDS. 1S visiting their nest. Our eyes are often diverted from the bird for a few moments, and the bird, taking ad- vantage of this circumstance, silently enters the nesting cavity. These are a few instances of this peculiar instinct, but a careful observer will see in the habits of these feathered creatures innumerable instances of this and the other forms of protective instinct. From these remarks we may gain the following facts :— Birds depositing their eggs on bare situations in- variably use alluring motions as a protective power ; by those nesting in dense situations, silence is employed , predaceous birds as a rule employ pugnacious motions ; deceptive motions are displayed by birds whose nests are but little concealed ; while birds of a general habitat resort to colour and mimicry. It must also be remembered that birds only display their protective wiles under certain circumstances, and these circumstances exist when the birds see ample scope ‘ for the utilising of them. Thus, if a Sandpiper, rudely scared from her eggs, sees the intruder bending over them, she will not put in force her protective instinct, perceiving at once that the employment of it is vain, and she will utter a note of anguish and despair, and fly to a short distance, to watch the motions of the intruder. This also clearly proves that no imitating power exists within them, for if this were so, birds would always employ these powers, and under all circumstances. Many birds are also known to possess several of these forms of instinct, and use them as the emergencies of the case require. Thus the Lapwing or Snipe will ma- nifest a silent protective instinct in some cases, while in others alluring motions will be adopted. Therefore I have no hesitation in saying that all birds have doubtless been gifted with equal portions of this peculiar instinct, 16 RURAL BIRD LIFE. and could, if circumstances required it, put in force all their varied arts, but have, through the course of endless time, adopted those motions best suited to their wants and conditions of life. Thus has Nature bountifully supplied these feathered creatures with instinct sufficient to baffle, in most cases, their natural enemies—instinct which is so artfully put in force as to baffle even man himself, gifted as he is with noble reasoning powers, which enable him to be the superior and master of every other living creature. HABITS OF BIRDS. Wy WABITS OF BIRDS. He who pays attention to the various motions of the feathered tribes, at all seasons, will find that the habits of birds can be most readily studied in early morning and evening. For ‘tis then these feathered creatures are the most active, sing the loudest and in the greatest numbers, and ‘tis then they are much, very much, more full of life than at any other time of the day. Many birds, the Thrushes for instance, procure the greater part of their food at these times ; while others seldom leave their fastnesses except for a few hours in the morning and evening. In the following remarks, penned down at the time of observation, I intend showing a few of the actions of the feathered tribes at these, to the ornithologist, the most interesting times of the day. Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless song Bursts from the groves. Gentle reader, I would request thee to let imagination captivate thee, and bear me company, this lovely morning in May, in a stroll amongst Nature's finest ornaments, the feathered tribes. We must set out long before the sun rises over yonder hills if we wish to notice the morning actions of the Robin, Wren, Thrushes, or other early birds. Just as the sky grows gray we hear the Rooks, the earliest moving birds, cawing solemnly from the tops of the nesting-trees ; a little later a Robin is is 18 RURAL BIRD LIVE. heard uttering a few sharp call notes ; the little Wren too is now on the move. A word in respect to the awaken- ing of birds. We are gravely told that those birds roosting in high situations rise the first, because the sun is seen sooner from their elevated roosting-place. But this is incorrect, for the Robin, Wren, and Thrush, roosting in a lowly shrub, rise just as soon from their slumbers as the Rook, perched some fifty fect above them in the towering clm, and long before the sun is visible from the highest tree in the vicinity. Another, I believe a French naturalist, tells us that the Lark is a sluggard. Let him come hither and behold this charming little songste1 rise from its lowly bed with the first glimmer of sunrise in the eastern sky. Methinks our forefathers of old, o1 even the village swain of the present day, could have given this grave scientist a lesson in this simple matter. After close attention to this special habit in the feathered tribe, I am able to inform thee, gentle reader, that birds awake with but little approach to regularity, and probably thy first ramble will be quite at variance with thy second, although they be taken but a few days apart. The Carrion Crow and Rook are probably the first birds astir: Thrushes follow them closely. The Cuckoo, too, is a very early riser ; so are the Lark and sylvan birds ; while Finches as a rule rise late in com- parison to their above-mentioned congeners. However, as soon as the first bird is heard to move, the other members of the feathered race are heard in rapid suc- cession, and I am often in my rambles, especially in the vernal year, greatly puzzled as to which of my little favourites was the first to greet me with its notes. But to return to our ramble. A warm glimmer appears in the sky, ’tis the har- binger of the glorious sun, and the Song-thrush and HABITS OF BIRDS. 19 Blackbird leave the dense shelter of the evergreen and mount the tallest branches, to greet the rising orb with a flood of gushing music. The Robin and Wren have now commenced their lay; the former from yonder thorn, and the latter from the concealment of the dense and lowly bramble. The Cuckoo utters his name from the blasted top of a majestic oak, for an early riser is this bird of spring. As we stroll over this field of clover the Lark springs up from its dewy bed, and, shaking the moisture from its plumage, soars on quivering wing into the azure vault of heaven, now glowing as if with gold from the rays of the rising sun. Cheerily he sings on ever-moving pinions ; upwards he soars until he appears but a speck, yet his melody is heard, beautiful in its faintness, e’en though the bird be lost in the morning mist as it rises and creeps slowly along the valley. The welcome twittering of the Swallows is now heard, and these charming little creatures flit by us, their plumage glowing with pristine gloss in the morning suniight. Their morning meal they are seeking, and a bountiful one they find over yonder calm and lucid pool. Arguta lacus circumvolitavit hirundo. Gay little Chaffinches greet us as we approach the hedgerows, and the Bunting from his perch on yonder fence utters his enlivening though somewhat monotonous notes. On the decayed branch of this ash sits the sprightly Tree Pipit : ever and anon he launches himself into the air for a short distance, singing as he goes, and then with his ‘twee, twee, twee, twee, returns to his elevated perch. The plaintive notes of the Willow Warbler, the dulcet symphonies of the Blackcap, and the garrulous warblings of the little Whitethroat are heard in all directions. The Flycatcher is seeking his morning C2 20 RURAL BIRD LIFE. meal, and, judging from the clouds of insects hovering near him, his wants will speedily be supplied. As we stroll down this narrow lane the Redstart flits before us from bush to bush, uttering his wrenlike song, while the Wagtail greets us with his call notes as we cross the murmuring rivulet. We now enter a coppice, and the Stormcock flies round us with grating cries: her home is here, and she is seeking to defend it. Now in our re- turn journey we see a pair of Magpies, and hear the dis- cordant call of the Jay; while in yonder grass field near the shrubbery numbers of Thrushes are seen searching for worms and slugs. Observe them closely, and we find the Blackbird elevates the tail upon alighting, while the Song-thrush is never seen to do so. All look warily around before feeding, and upon the slightest alarm fly rapidly off into the shelter of the evergreens. The Rooks are now feeding, and obtaining food for their sit- ting mates or helpless young, in the pastures. Starlings in their company are keeping up a noisy concert, many of the males on the surrounding tree-tops warbling their varied notes, with shaking quivering wings. The sun is now well up in the heavens, and all birds are singing their loudest. First come the noble family of Thrushes, represented by the dulcet Blackbird and varied Thrush ; the delicate sylvan songsters give forth their plaintive notes ; while the Finches in all directions help to swell the lovely concert—a concert in which, without close attention, the songs of the many actors cannot be traced. Amongst such a sea of melody we are apt to ponder over the cause of it; but it defies our every effort, and we are obliged to rest content with listening to it and enjoying its sweetness. The Corncrake is calling from the meadow, and the late-rising Sparrows cluster round the barns and ricks to seek their morning sustenance. HABITS OF BIRDS. 2 On the bosom of the still waters the Moorhens and Coots plash about right heartily, and the Heron on one leg appears in silent moody contemplation. As the sun advances the birds cease their music and retire, and such a delightful concert of bird music will not again be heard until the sun has performed his daily tour through the flaming zodiac, and arises once more in the eastern heavens to usher in a future day. In the evening, how- ever, the actions of the feathered tribes are ever full of interest. The waning sun behoves us to set forth. The objects of our quest betray their whereabouts by their music, and although these little songsters have been heard in small numbers throughout the day, still all now sing their lovely evening notes. This noble shrubbery pre- sents us with a great number of the little sons of Orpheus. The Thrushes, from their powerful notes, come first be- fore our notice. In yonder stately sycamore, just don- ning its golden leaves, the Blackbird is pouring forth his . notes; another on a lowly wall is assisting in the con- cert. Song-thrushes from every tree are giving forth their varied tones. As we pause for a few moments under this widespreading yew, Cock-Robin hops daintily on to a neighbouring bough and greets us with a song ; while down below him in the tangled ravine the Wren gives forth his rambling notes. Our little friends the Chaffinches, with their congener the Greenfinch, are heard singing their loudest; and the graceful Willow Warbler in his journey over the forest trees in search of insect food occasionally pauses to utter his plaintive song. The active little blue Titmice in every conceiv- able attitude are searching for their evening meal ; while in the distance the bell-like notes of the Ox- -eye are heard ringing on the evening air. In the grass fields 22 RURAL BIRD LIFE. we find numerous Thrushes searching for food: the greater part of these birds have not been out of their haunts since we saw them retire in the morning. A flock of Starlings, too, is busily employed feeding. If we disturb them, they all rise together and make for the top- most branches of the neighbouring trees, and there com- mence a noisy clamour, the male birds giving forth their delightful warbling notes. The Rooks are seen flying backwards and forwards from the distant feeding ground to the rookery with food for their mates or young: they continue these operations till dusk. Far off in the dis- tant meadow we hear the Landrail, who but seldom calls during the heat of the day. There, too, we hear the Skylark singing his evening melody previous to alight- ing in the grassy sward for the night ; while deep in the recesses of the wood we hear the harsh cries of the Jay and Magpie, the discordant crow of the male Pheasant, as he marshals his harem around him, and the soft cooing of the Ringdove; for be it known all these birds are very vociferous at night’s gloomy approach. Perhaps the most interesting feature in the nightly motions of the feathered tribe is their retiring to roost. Amongst the earliest retiring birds are the Chaffinch and Greenfinch, for just as the sun disappears these birds seek the shelter of the yew or holly as a roosting-place. The Willow Warbler sings well into the twilight, as also do the Thrushes, Wrens, and Robins: the latter bird, by: the way, we shall hear long after twilight has merged into night. All birds, or nearly all, just prior to roosting, become very vociferous. We hear the startling call of the Blackbird ; there the Starlings in noisy concert are settling over their roosting-place ; yonder the Titmouse is flitting hither and thither in search of a safe retreat. Down the hedgerows the Sparrow-hawk is coursing in HABITS OF BIRDS. 23 search of some unlucky Finch that has lingered after his companions have sought repose. The female Rooks are upon their nests, their: partners perched close at hand, the birds occasionally uttering a hoarse caw, or the young birds their more feeble notes. The night mist hangs low in the valley, and the Bat leaves his gloomy retreat and courses through the air in search of his meal. The wailing call of the Lapwing from the pasture, or the screech of the Owl is heard,. proclaiming that the night birds are about to usher forth ; yet still the Robin anda solitary Thrush are heard to sing a few last notes. The gloom is fast hastening into night, and ere long a solemn stillness reigns, only broken by the cries, start- ling and strange, of the birds or beasts of night. . . the restless day Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep. All diurnal birds have retired to rest—a rest how- ever but of a few short hours’ duration, for ere long bird life with its ups and downs, cares and anxieties, will be once again in full vigour. The above remarks apply to an inland pastoral dis- trict, and he who roams in the haunts of the feathered tribes in the morning and evening hours, be his rambles on the sea coast, lonely moor, forest, swamp, or plain, will not fail to find his stroll abounding with the interest- ing habits, many probably unknown before, of these feathered creatures. My aim in giving thee, gentle reader, this brief and hasty sketch of bird life, is in the hope that if thou hast not yet visited the haunts of birds at these times thou wilt be led to do so; for no matter under what circumstances thou art placed, thou wilt not fail to find abundant sources of pleasure and profit by so doing. THE SONG-THRUSH. In the shrubberies, the wouds, and, in summer, the fields and the hedgerows, in fact, wherever we find the Blackbird, we may pretty well rest assured of finding the Song-thrush too. The haunt of the Song-thrush, par excellence, however, is amongst the bright and glossy foliage of the evergreens. There they delight to hide, although not so shy and retiring as the Blackbird ; there they build their nests in greatest numbers, amongst the perennial foliage, and there they draw at nightfall to repose in warmth and safety. Like the Blackbird, the Song-thrush is not a gre- garious species, nor can it be justly called a social one, for it is rarely we see more than a pair together save at feeding time. Then, however, they are drawn together by one common object, and once that object attained they retire to their life of solitude again. You can best observe the actions of the Song-thrush at feeding time, THE SONG-THRUSAH. 25 which takes place, as a rule, in the morning and evening hours. Your wish will the better be gratified if a light shower of rain has previously fallen. You see the Song- thrushes leave their haunts on. by one, and, alighting on the grass, look warily around for a moment, but de not elevate the tail, like the Blackbird, before commencing their search for food. Hopping hither and thither, they pick up the worms, slugs, and grubs, or seize a passing insect ; when satisfied, returning into their leafy haunt solitary as they came. Berries also are eaten in considerable numbers, both in the autumn and early spring months of the year. Wild fruits, as blackberries and raspberries, are eaten, and the fruit gardens near their haunts are often visited. The Song-thrush is also a large feeder on those snails whose pretty shells occur in almost every hedgerow. Capturing the snail, the Thrush conveys it, shell and all, to some convenient stone, where he dexterously breaks open the shell by dashing it against it, and feeds upon the animal within. I have often seen the remnants of a score or more of these shells strewed round some large stone, silently speaking of the Thrush’s usefulness. The Song-thrush also obtains much of its food amongst the withered leaves and marshy places of the woods and shrubberies which it frequents. In the autumn months we find the Song-thrush in abundance on the cabbage beds near its haunts, feeding upon the snails and slugs which frequent that vegetable. In the moulting season this bird is still more retiring in its disposition, as if fully aware of its helplessness while undergoing its annual change of plumage. The Song-thrush sings very early in the year, his rich and varied notes being heard early in February, from which time he warbles incessantly up to the 26 RURAL BIRD LIFE. moulting season in July, at which time, by the way, the young of the year are heard making attempts at song. We have not a bird in Britain possessing a more varied melody than the Song-thrush. His notes may be said to be almost endless in variety, each note seemingly uttered at the caprice of the bird, without any percep- tible approach to order. I have often, when listening to his charming song, noted down as many of these varia- tions as I could detect, and the result has surprised me. I on one occasion recorded the variations as the bird was warbling from the summit of a stately ash, and obtained ten variations in one of the snatches of his song. The Song-thrush warbles throughout the day, but morning and evening are the times he sings in largest numbers. I have known one of these birds sing incessantly in all his varied splendour for five hours in the morning, without once quitting his perching-place. It is a plea- sure indescribable to listen to the vernal song of the Thrush. In the early morning, when the first streak of dawn appears glimmering over the eastern horizon, and surrounding objects are beginning to assume a more decided outline against the gray morning sky, we first hear a few notes, as if the bird, like a skilful musician previous to his performance, were tuning his lyre. Gradually it swells into a lovely song, and is carried for half a mile or more along the valley by the gentle zephyrs of early morn. Shortly we hear another from a neighbouring tree; another and another are heard in rapid succession, as the day spreads, widely around ; and finally the air seems laden with their joyous notes, now intermingled with the charming song of the Robin and Wren, and the rich and flutelike tones of the Blackbird. There is no monotony in the notes of the Song-thrush, they are for ever on the change ; and when THE SONG-THRUSH. 27 we hear a dozen or more in one small shrubbery, singing their best, the effect is lovely in the extreme, and totally beyond the art of the most graphic pen to describe. In the evening, too, they just as numerous, and sing equally as well; every tree-top has its Thrush, pouring forth a requiem to the parting day, and the still evening air resounds with their melody. We also often hear them singing their loudest under a star-spangled sky, or greeting the rising moon with notes of gushing sweetness. The Song-thrush pairs in the latter end of February, sometimes earlier, although the nest is seldom found before the first or second week in March. Even then numbers of the nests finished, or in course of completion, are abandoned if severe weather occurs. The site of the Song-thrush’s nest is a varied one. We invariably find the first nests of this bird amongst the perennial branches of the evergreen ; but as the year rolls on, and other trees and shtubs assume their leafy covering, they in turn are used. The whitethorn hedge is a favourite place ; so too is the bottom of the hazel hedgerows ; while we not unfrequently see it far up the branches of the stately trees, and amongst the ivy growing up their trunks. The nest of the Song-thrush generally takes upwards of a week to complete, yet when hard pressed it can be done in a much shorter time; witness the following instance, among several, coming under my own obser- vation. I found a nest of the Song-thrush in a small yew bush, and in a very exposed situation, which I removed. Three days afterwards I again visited the place, and was surprised to find that the birds had almost completed a fresh nest. I removed this also, and visited the place the following day, when I was still further surprised to find that the little songsters had almost completed a third nest, so attached were the 28 RURAL BIRD LIFE. little architects to their somewhat ill-chosen site. This structure, however, was removed like the former ones, and on the evening of the following day a fourth nest was there, and the bird upon it, putting the finishing touches, and an egg was laid the following day, for I could not find it in my heart to remove this, their fourth piece of handiwork. I may add that all the nests were excellently made. Many erroneous opinions are held as to the materials with which this bird lines its nest. Some affirm that cow-dung is the material used; others, that clay and mud form the lining. Let us closely watch a Song- thrush when building her nest: we will suppose the site is already chosen. In the first place a nest of dry grass, straw, and a little moss, is made as the foundation for future operations ; and then with wet mud or clay she proceeds to line her handiwork. But this is not all. When this first lining is still in a soft state, the bird repairs tosome decayed wood in the vicinity—old fences, roots of trees, or dead branches, answer the purpose, it matters not which—and after obtaining a small quantity, returns to the nest and commences a second lining. How does she moisten the wood for her purpose? Not with her saliva; for with admirable instinct she seeks wood already saturated with moisture, or, provided none can be found in that condition, which very rarely occurs, she moistens it in the nearest water. The selected pieces of wood speedily become tunnelled by the repeated visits of the bird, and in fact by all the other Song-thrushes in the vicinity who are about to set up housekeeping. A stroll in the nesting season through the localities favoured by the presence of these charming songsters will reveal quantities of decayed logs bearing the marks of their repeated visits. Buttoreturn. The bird speedily THE SONG-THRUSH. 29 lines her nest a second time, making it smooth and rounded as any specimen of the potter's art, and then leaves it for probably a day or so to dry, ere the eggs are deposited. The eggs of the Song-thrush are very beautiful objects. They are deep greenish-blue (by the way, a difficult colour to describe), spotted with small deep brown spots, and four or five in number. You sometimes find eggs of the Song-thrush richly blotched with reddish-brown and light purple; others are pure and spotless. The eggs of the Song-thrush are also subject to no small degree of variation in size, the largest and finest.eggs being laid by the more matured birds. Silence is the protective power, as a rule, employed by the Song-thrush, although pugnacious motions are some- times, though rarely, employed. The notes of the sitting bird, when scared from the nest, are almost as harsh as those of the Stormcock. Both birds sit upon the eggs and young, and tend their young for a short time after they quit the nest for ever. All birds, I am convinced, understand the notes of their congeners when in distress or menaced by danger. Notice how, when you have unwittingly disturbed a. brood of young Song-thrushes, for instance, the harsh and distressful cries of the parent birds draw other birds to the vicinity of the tumult, undoubtedly drawn thither by feelings of sympathy, or for the purpose of uniting to repel the advances of the oppressor The Song-thrush rears two broods in the year at least. Here the Song-thrush is a decidedly migratory bird. They leave us, with one or two solitary exceptions, by the early part of November's foggy month. Their numbers decrease about the Redwing’s arrival, and go on doing so until the middle of November, with the above result. In the shrubberies where they formerly abounded 30 RURAL BIRD LIFE. now (November) but one or twoare seen, and the hedge- rows are entirely deserted, and their harsh grating call notes no longer disturb the air at eventide. Where the birds retire to, is to me a mystery ; but by the latter end of January or first week int February, when the first signs of approaching spring abound on every side, the Song-thrushes are back again in their old haunts. I am of opinion they migrate, like the Redwing, during the night, for one day they are absent, and the next their mellow notes fill the air around with gladness. I have now for several years been struck with this peculiar habit of the Song-thrush, and the Blackbird too, and paid particular attention to the same, but I am, as yet, totally unable to say what causes these movements. ZHE MISSEL-THRUSA. 3t THE MISSEL-THRUSH. THIS noble frequenter of our woods and fields is known by many as the ‘Stormcock, a name acquired by the bird warbling his lay in the wildest months of the year. How diversified and everchanging are the habits and motions of the feathered tribe! and most particu- larly their song. Some birds, as the Robin, Wren, and Dunnock, sing all the year through ; while others, as the Chaffinch and Bunting, sing but for a short six months every season ; while again the Song-thrush and Lark will warble a few strains at intervals on some calm and genial winter's day, in addition to their spring and summer melody ; while yet again the Missel-thrush, by Nature's mandates commanded, sings throughout the winter, drops his lay in April, but regains it in all its power in early autumn, to continue till the sun has com- menced his journey to the northern tropic. Thus we find that the Missel-thrush is invariably silent at a time when all his congeners are filling the grove with their melody. His song resembles in some of its tones that of the Song-thrush and Blackbird, but it possesses a peculiar loudness, and wild variation strictly its own, and may, by one who pays attention to the songs of birds, be instantly recognised from the notes of any other British songster. Like the notes of the Ring Ousel, it is somewhat monotonous. I have heard this bird pouring out his wild notes before actual daylight, in the middle 32 RURAL BIRD LIFE. of the short winter’s day, and when the sun has been sinking behind the western hills in tints of the finest lustre. How pleasantly his notes greet the ear amid tne shrieking of the wind and the driving snow, or when in a calm and lucid interval of genial weather we hear him sing, if possible, more richly than before. His song re- minds us of a coming season when the now dreary land- scape will be clothed in a blooming garb befitting the vernal year—of the sung of the Blackbird and Thrush combined with that of the Lark, and other host of tune- ful throats which usher in that lovely season. Should you disturb the Missel-thrush when singing he usually drops silently down and awaits your departure, though sometimes he merely retires to a neighbouring tree and warbles as sweetly as before. You will also find that you can approach him much closer when he is singing than at any other time, save in the breeding season, a fact, by the way, found in all or nearly all singing birds. The call notes, or alarm notes, of the Missel-thrush are extremely harsh and discordant. You may form a pretty correct idea of them in the same manner as you would imitate the Landrail’s call. The Missel-thrush, as a rule, flies much higher through the heavens than the Thrush or Blackbird. They are also capable of flying with great rapidity, and also have considerable command over themselves in the air: witness their motions round the head of an intruder when in the neighbourhood of their nest. The Missel- thrush is a decided inhabitant of trees and shrubs, save when in search of food, which for eight months in the year is found chiefly on the ground, except in fruit time. The remaining four months he is for the most part a berry feeder, though, if the weather be mild and open, we find him on the grass land in company with his congeners. THE MISSEI.-THRUSH. 33 You will also find in studying the economy of the Missel- thrush that he is never seen to skulk and hide under the evergreens and lowly shrubs, but is generally found amongst the higher branches, shy and vigilant at ali times, and taking wing the instant he is alarmed. From what I have observed, the Missel-thrush pairs somewhere about the first week in February, and at that season the birds are very pugnacious. I was once a witness to one of these combats between two males: a female was in their company. After much discordant language, harsh blows, and not a few warlike motions, one of the birds was evidently vanquished, and retired to a tree close at hand. The now victorious male went off in another direction, in company with the female, and I have no doubt a union was formed between them. These birds frequent the locality of their nest weeks before a twig is laid in furtherance of it. Every day the observer may hear their harsh cries and the lovely notes of the male in one locality, and he may rest assured, if he does not molest them, that there their nest will be. Another noteworthy habit of this bird, in common with many other species, is its singularly trustful disposition in the breeding season; yet at all other times of the year he is one of the most difficult birds to approach, and shuns, except in fruit time and the keenest weather, man’s habitation with scrupulous care. Missel-thrushes commence building early in M arch, and their eggs often suffer from the inclement weather which not unfrequently occurs at that season. I have found many nests of this bird forsaken, though the full complement of eggs was deposited, the nests being filled with snow, and the eggs frozen hard as stones. Almost every forest tree is destined to contain the nest of the Missel-thrush. We find it in the yew shrubs, a few feet D 34 RURAL BIRD LIFE. from the ground ; in the lowly hawthorn ; the alder bordering the stream; sometimes in the ash, sixty feet above the ground ; more rarely in the beech ; while very often the towering oak and silver birch are selected. We also find it in every species of fruit tree ; and what I have noticed as very singular is, that though the nest is often very conspicuous, it is often overlooked until the eggs are hatched, or the young have left their birthplace forever. Missel-thrushes will sometimes build their nests very close together; I on one occasion counted four of their nests a few yards apart in the secluded corner of a swampy wood. The nest is placed in some convenient fork, often built on a branch growing at right angles to the trunk, and but very rarely constructed amongst the’ more slender twigs. I on-one occasion found a nest belonging to this species in a large yew shrub: the nest was placed at the end of one of the slender branches, five feet from the ground, and was but very slightly secured: it contained four eggs. In my opinion the nest of this bird is but very rarely found in these situations. It is composed of a few twigs, ccarse grass, sometimes growing chickweed, mixed with large masses of wool, cemented with mud, and lined with a very thick lining of the finest grass. Some nests are com- posed externally of a species of moss which grows in swamps, and when dry is a greenish-white colour. This when skilfully woven with the slender twigs of the birch, and placed in that lovely sylvan tree, forms one of the most beautiful specimens of bird architecture, I have known this bird use ivy leaves for the outside of its nest, which was placed in a hawthorn tree just bursting into leaf. Of all the birds which have come before my notice, perhaps none deposit more regularly the same number of eggs. I have examined scores of THE MISSEL-THRUSH. 35 the nests of this bird, and found the eggs in all stages of development, yet not in one single solitary instance have I found the eggs of this bird to exceed four in number : the eggs of the Missel-thrush, therefore, I should say but rarely exceed this number. They vary con- siderably in shape, size, and markings ; some specimens are pear-shaped, others almost round, and great dis. parity of size may be often noted in thé eggs of the same nest. Some eggs are bluish-green in ground colour, with a zone of purple and reddish-brown spots ; others have a much deeper ground colour, mottled all over with light and dark brown and purple blotches ; in others the colouring matter is collected on the larger -end. I have found eggs of this bird not sat upon in June, and known the young able te fly by the latter end of April: from this I would infer that two broods are reared in the year. You can seldom examine the nest of the Missel-thrush in quietness, save when but cne or two eggs are deposited, for when the full complement is laid, and the birds commence to sit, they seem priceless tothem As they approach maturity they are still more anxious, and when their young are depending upon them for safety and sustenance, the old birds care but little for their own security, and with harsh cries and pugnacious motions endeavour to drive away all in- truders. Pugnacious motions are the protective wiles this bird displays, and when you approach their nests the old birds fly round your head, uttering their grating cries, and endeavour by their boldness to drive you ‘away. Magpies and Jays, and even the Sparrow-hawk, fare but badly if the Missel-thrushes attack them in defence of their eggs or young. Those persons who would have us believe that the song of the male bird is given forth to cheer his sitting mate, must certainly find Dz 36 RURAL BIRD LIFE. an exception in the Missel-thrush, for on no account do you hear his tuneful lay cheering his sitting mate, and the incubation is performed in silence, a fact perhaps not observable in any other British songster. The popular belief that Missel-thrushes drive all birds away from the neighbourhood of their nest, and rear their young apart from the company of their kindred, ought to be received with explanation. I have often found the nests of the Greenfinch, Chaffinch, Magpie, Wren, Thrush, Ring Ousel, and Blackbird, within a few yards of the nest of the Missel-thrush ; all living peace- fully together, and each performing its domestic duties in company. I have seen the nest of the Missel-thrush in the branches of a tall mountain ash: the nest con- tained four eggs. Ina small hole in the trunk a Redstart was sitting upon her eggs, while in a recess amongst the roots of the tree a Wren was building her cave-like home, and a Magpie was also engaged in like manner amongst the branches of a wide-spreading oak close by. But, gentle reader, mistake not these remarks, I pray thee. If the nest of the Missel-thrush is menaced by any pre- datory bird—by the way quite a different matter—the parent bird will strive to repel its approaches, as will most birds, more or less, when placed in similar cir- cumstances ; and these pugnacious motions are un- doubtedly the cause of this erroneous and misleading statement. Where birds are closely observed the utmost harmony is found to exist between them, when employed in bringing up their young. Although their nests be but a few feet apart, each performs its allotted task in a manner harmonising with the instincts with which Nature has endowed it. In, the early autumn months the Missel-thrush con- gregates into little parties, and by the latter end of THE MISSEL-THRUSH. 37 September we see them in considerable flecks. But as the year begins to wane and the sun enters the southern tropic, these birds, from at present an unknown cause, again separate, and are seen solitary or in little parties. They are very wild at this particular season, probably more so than at any other time of the year. They frequent the turnip lands and newly-ploughed lands at this time, feeding on the insects and worms, and seek- ing the grass land for slugs, taking wing the instant danger threatens, flying from tree to tree, uttering their harsh and grating cries both when at rest and when fly- ing through the air. In the winter months Missel- thrushes congregate to some extent with the Fieldfares, and roam about from one place to another in search of food. It is seldom now they come near man’s habitation save when hard pressed for food: then, however, we see them on the hawthorn trees, or regaling themselves upon the berries of the service tree. A word as to the Missel-thrush feeding on the berries of the mistletoe. Popular opinion regards this waxen berry as the staple food of the ‘Stormcock, but as far as my own observations extend I consider that such is not the case. Here the mistletoe grows in abundance on the poplar trees, and the ‘ Stormcocks’ abound in all directions, yet I never see them feeding on the berries, nor can I find traces of them in the stomachs of the birds. Hence I am led to believe that the berry is not sought after so closely as is generally supposed. Hawthorn berries, and the fruit of the service trees, seem to be preferred; and he who would wish to en- courage this noble bird, and have his domain enlivened in the winter months by his wild and powerful notes, will do well to cultivate these trees. When I see the mountain ash and service tree expanding their lovely 38 RURAL BIRD LIFE. bunches of bloom, and the hawthorn assuming its snow- white flowers under the soothing influence of the vernal sun, I know that these flowers are the future fruit that will feed the ‘Stormcock’ and his congeners when their other food is wanting; and I pause for a moment to admire these graceful daughters of Sylva, and reflect how beautifully every animate and inanimate object of the creation performs its allotted task ina manner bene- ‘cial to the great Commonwealth of Nature. THE REDWING AND FIELDFARE. WIEN the mournful winds of autumn sigh through the semi-denuded branches, and the leaves of the trees are falling all around, as One by one they wander through The Indian summer’s hazy blue, and the first blasts from the north arrive, the Redwings, in flocks, are in their van. Already winter has com- menced his dreary sway in their far northern home, and they must fly before him to those lands where his powers, though of no mean order, can yet be tolerated by these delightful songsters. Thus, as October’s nut-brown month is waning, the Redwing arrives here to spend his winter. Redwings, in my opinion, perform their migra- tions under the cover of night, and at this season of the 40 RURAL BIRD LIFE. year I often hear on some clear and starlight night the yelping cries of the Redwings winning their way through the still starlit air far above me in the trackless heavens. The Redwing arrives in this country much sooner than the Fieldfare, though both these birds inhabit the same northern latitudes. This is owing to the Red- wing being more sensitive to cold than the Fieldfare, and numbers of these ‘Swedish nightingales’ perish from cold in a hard winter : food, too, is another cause for this early migration. You can instantly tell the Redwing from any other of the Thrush family by its small size, the abundance of white on the under parts, and the yellowish white streak of plumage over the eye. Upon their arri- val we find the Redwing a very shy and wary bird, but in a few weeks’ time much of this wariness disappears, and they become one of the most trustful members of this charming family of choristers. We find the Redwing delights in the more cultivated parts of the country, fre- quenting well-wooded parks, and pleasure and pasture grounds. Redwings are perhaps more nocturnal in their habits than any other British Thrush. As I wander over the pastures when the shadows of night are falling, I often disturb these late-feeding birds, and their now dusky formsflit by me, and their peculiar cries disturb the evening air as they fly rapidly off to their roosting-place. The trustful familiarity of these birds is sometimes very marked, notably so in keen weather. It is a pleasing sight to watch a flock of Redwings when searching the grass land for food. How nimbly they hop amongst the frosted grass, ever in motion, occasionally taking short flights or starting up to look warily around. If alarmed, _ they fly off in small parties and take refuge on the top- most branches of the neighbouring trees, and then when THE REDWING AND FIELDFARE. 4l the danger has subsided leaving their elevated perching- places in the same manner. First one will fly boldly down, others follow, and so on until the whole flock are again engaged in obtaining food. We often see, how- ever, one or two birds perched in the trees close to which the flock is feeding. These do duty as sentinels, and give forth alarm notes on the approach of danger. These signals are heard by the feeding: birds below, who in- stantly take wing, very often to the mortification of the wandering gunner, who tries in vain to discharge his piece at the harmless creatures. The partiality of the Redwing for animal substances is no doubt the primary cause of their permanent resid- dence in one neighbourhood throughout their sojourn in this country. In the winter months the land frequented by them is very often like one huge sponge, teeming with abundant food, and on which they are always found. This bird is not near so much a berry-feeder as is currently supposed. Upon their arrival we find them, it is true, regaling themselves on the fruits of the haw- thorn and service tree, but this only occurs for a few weeks after their arrival, and I then see them for the most part obtaining worms on the grass land, and only returning to the berry-bearing trees and shrubs when the ground is frozen hard as adamant. I know not whether the song of this bird is fre- quently heard in the winter months, but with me it is certainly of the rarest occurrence. I have given the birds my closest attention with regard to this matter, but their song has only once greeted my ear. One of those sunny days in December, when everything around almost put mein mind of the coming spring---the Robin chanting his delightful notes far up in the naked branches, and the little Wren pouring forth his jerking 42 RURAL BIRD LIFE. song from the undergrowth: a number of redwings, too, were feeding on the surrounding grass fields, when one of their number flew from the rest, and perched on a lowly hawthorn tree, some ten yards away, and com- menced singing. I can only compare the notes of the Redwing to a mixture of Song-thrush and Blackcap melody, the whole being given forth in one long warb- ling strain, varied by several harsh and guttural notes. Well does the Redwing merit the title of ‘Swedish night- ingale, a title bestowed upon it by the great and illustrious Linnzus ; for still more beautiful must be his song when inspired by love—still more charming will its tones appear when given forth amongst the pine-clad hills of his far northern home. He continued singing for a few moments, when an unlucky movement on my part sent him hastily away to the company of his kin- dred on the adjoining meadows. Few birds possess such a variety of call notes as the Redwing. A musical one, something like the call note of the Skylark, is uttered when the birds are passing through the air; their alarm notes are a yelping cry; and when settling down to rest, harsh cries like those of the Stormcock, only a trifle more musical, and low squealing notes, varied with peculiar guttural ones, are uttered. I have paid great attention to these birds just prior to their departure to the north, and examined carefully their haunts weeks after they have vacated them, but have never yet found any of them tarry here to breed. Redwings are strictly gregarious, they feed together, fly togethér, roost together, and I am told, for of their nest- ing habits I am totally unacquainted, that in companies they build their nests. Certain it is that none remain to breed near here. Should the reader have the good fortune to discover the nest he will at once identify it ; THE REDWING AND FIELDFARL. 43 for its nest is lined with the finer grasses, like the Black- bird’s, and the eggs, judging from one in my possession, taken in Sweden, very closely resemble the eggs of that bird, but are, of course, very much smaller. Redwings are found in the same locality year after year, and nightly seek the same place for repose ; and often do I take shelter under the yew tree’s dense and impenetrable foliage for the purpose of seeing them retire to rest. Early in the evening a few of the birds are seen on the neighbouring trees, but as the evening is emerging into night, and the moon assumes her borrowed light, the birds come in flocks from the pastures, their wings rustling in the still evening air, and. their call and alarm notes fill the air around with tumult. Down they settle on the tallest underwood ; yelp, yelp, is heard in all directions, and one by one I see them seek their roosting-place. Numbers retire to the ivy, others to the yew, while many seek the holly’s glossy sprays for their purpose. Now one flutters hastily into the bush under which I am standing, but noticing man’s baneful presence, he flies quickly off to more suitable quarters. As the stars shine out one by one, solemn stillness reigns around, occasionally broken by the fluttering of some benighted songster; but these sounds cease at last, and I know that just around me some two hundred members of the feathered race are lulled in tranquil sleep in the bosom of the warm and friendly evergreen. In the latter end of March the Redwings visibly decrease in numbers, and as the month of April approaches they have left us in still larger numbers for the north. Flock succeeds flock, and before the middle’ of April arrives, they are probably in safety on the far northern shores of Norway. 44 RURAL BIRD LIFE. The second of these little wanderers arrives here much later in the season than its aforementioned con- gener. November's blasts have stripped the forest trees of their covering, and the evergreens stand out promi- nent in all the splendour of their glossy garb, ere we see the Fieldfares winging their way through the heavens. Like the Redwing, the Fieldfare, in my opinion, migrates in the night ; for not a single bird will be seen one day, while the next, long before sunrise, they are observed in incredible numbers. I have but small doubt that the Missel-thrush is often taken for the Fieldfare, but their cry may instantly inform the one well versed in the notes of the feathered tribes. It is much more harsh and guttural than either the Missel-thrush or Song- thrush ; besides, the Fieldfares fly in large flocks, an act never observed in the economy of the Song-thrush, and only in the autumn months in the case of the Missel- thrush. The Fieldfare is of a far more decided wander- ing disposition than the Redwing, and this is obvious when we reflect that the bird is, when residing with us, for the most part a berry-feeder. Once arrived in a dis- trict abounding with their favourite food (berries), and they remain until all is consumed. He who would wish to encourage the Fieldfares around him should pay special care to the cultivation of his evergreens, and plant with uusparing hand the mountain ash, service tree, and hawthorn, in all parts of his domain, for it is on the fruit of these and kindred trees that the Field- fare finds his main support. When the snow is lying thickly on the ground I see the Fieldfares flying over the dreary waste near man’s habitations, or satisfying their hunger in the berry-bear- ing trees near his threshold, but I but rarely see the THE REDWING AND FIELDFAREL. 45 Redwing in their company. The Stormcock is found with them not unfrequently, for he, too, at this season, is a decided berry-feeder. But when the snow has all dis- appeared, and a few days of open weather follow, the Fieldfares seldom stay if the berries are consumed, and rarely, or never, seek the grass land with the Redwing. There are few birds more shy and wary than the Field- fare, for if once disturbed they invariably take off to some considerable distance in a long straggling train, and as they fly rapidly, and as a rule out of gunshot, they are comparatively safe at a season when the poor half-frozen songsters are so ruthlessly murdered. Like the Redwing, the Fieldfare, when with us at least, is gregarious. They arrive here in flocks, and in flocks return to the north, but of their nesting habits I am unacquainted. Their nests, from specimens I have seen brought from northern Russia, are very similar to the Blackbird, and the eggs closely resemble those of the Ring Ousel, with the exception that they are slightly smaller. The Fieldfare is of such irregular habits that the ex- act time they leave us would be difficult to mention. Certain it is they leave us much sooner than the Redwing, for I but rarely see them after the third week in February, the state of the weather influencing con- siderably their migratory movements. We are still in ignorance as to many of the causes of migration, and probably shall ever remain so. Here we have two Thrushes, differing in no perceptible degree in their habits and requirements from resident species, that leave us every spring, and repair hundreds of miles to the north, for the purpose of rearing their young. And what end is gained by such procedure? That some benefit is 46 RURAL BIRD LIFE. obtaincd we may rest assured, and that the birds have an all-important purpose to fulfil in thus leaving us every season for those northern climes—a purpose which, although as yet unknown to us, is still, mayhap, of vital importance to these two intercsting little wanderers. THE RING OUSEL, 47 THE RING OUSEL. On the barren moor, where the mountain ash and graceful silver birch are wafted with the health-giving mountain breeze ; where huge boulders of rocks are piled upon each other, by some stupendous convulsion of nature, in endless confusion; where the roaring mountain stream rolls down in silent grandeur; and where the red Grouse and Merlin, true birds of the mist and heather, find a haunt—there too the Ring Ousel finds a safe and secluded home. Amid scenes so desolate, yet so full of solemn grandeur, he pipes his song and rears his young in peace. What careth he for the shrieking winds as they drive with fury through his haunts. ’Tis but music to him, and his rugged fastnesses are preferred to more pastoral scenes, save when our garden fruits are ripe; but even then he strays but little from his beloved home until, by resistless impulse driven, he follows the sun in his journey to the southern tropic, to his home in the sunny south. Such isthe Ring Ousel’shome. We will now give the bird our attention. The Ring Ousel is one of our spring visitors, and the only Thrush which comes to our shores to spend the summer. He arrives here the first week in April, some- times in flocks of several hundred individuals, remaining in flocks or parties, as the case may be, for a few days frequenting the marshy ground in search of food. If disturbed, they all rise, and after wheeling about in the air 48 RURAL BIRD LIFE. for a short time, again alight at some distance from the observer, for a shy and wary creature is the Ring Ousel, and particularly so just after its arrival. They soon separate into pairs, and spread themselves over the moorland districts. Soon after their arrival the male birds are heard singing in all directions, and, by exer- cising a little caution in your approach, you may get. within a few yards of the bird, and thus observe him closely. Monotonous as is the song of the Ring Ousel, still its loud tones, and the noble bearing of the bird itself, fully harmonise with the wild surroundings. Perched very often on some storm-riven tree growing out of the gray and massive rocks, the Ring Ousel, with his white cravat glistening in the sun, pours forth his notes—notes resembling those of the Starling, the piping of the Blackbird, and the varied tones of the Song-thrush. The bird after several piping notes calls forth in harsh tones, as if in mockery of his own performance. Motion- less he sits, with probably a minute between each snatch of song. If alarmed, his wild notes cease, and, with his loud cries echoing in the rocks around, he flys off'to a more secluded resting-place. Whenever I stray on to the wild moorlands in summer, the Ring Ousel, with his loud call notes of tac tac tac, tac tac tac, comes forth to meet me, and seems to challenge my right of approach. He alights on the boulders of rocks before me, and flits from bush to bush as I wander on. I observe him closely, and I find he possesses the habit in common with the Blackbird of elevating the tail upon alighting. His female, with her more dingy garb, keeps out of sight and is more rarely seen. On the rugged sides of the steep mountain gorges which occur so frequently in the wild and lonely Peak of Derbyshire ; in some stunted bush on the gorse and THE RING OUSEL. 49 heath-covered bank of the mountain lake ; on the banks of the roaring current ; or snugly located amongst the purple heather’s bushy branches, on the wide-spreading moor-—in all these situations the nest of the Ring Ousel may be found artfully concealed, never very high from the ground, and always well and compactly constructed. Early in May is their nesting season, and but one brood is reared in the year. The site chosen, the little builders first make a nest of dried grass, the sides mayhap bound together with a few birchen twigs: they then line this structure with a thick coating of mud, obtained from the nearest water-side or marshy swamp. The nest now is very deep for its breadth, but upon the mud the birds place a large quantity of finer grass, as a lining. The mud hardens, and the whole structure forms a well-made cradle for their little ones. The eggs of the Ring Ousel, four or five in number, so closely resemble those of the Blackbird, that even the most practised eyes are very often unable to discriminate any difference between them. I think, however, as a rule, the Ring Ousel’s eggs are a little the largest, and more deeply blotched and bolder in their markings. They are bluish-green in ground colour, speckled and blotched with reddish brown : some specimens have one or two brown streaks, notably at the larger end. No birds defend their eggs or young with more matchless courage than the Ring Ousel. Approach their treasure, and although you have no knowledge of its whereabouts, you speedily know that you are on sacred ground, or, more plainly speaking, on the nest- ing-site of this bird of the moor. Something sweeps suddenly round your head, probably brushing your face. You look round, and there the Ring Ousel, perched close at hand, is eyeing you wrathfully, and ready to do Dy 50 RURAL BIRD LIFE. battle, despite the odds, for the protection of her abode. Move, and the attack is renewed, this time with loud and dissonant cries that wake the solitudes of the barren moor around. Undauntedly the bird flies round you, now dashing into your face, or reeling and tumbling on the ground in very anguish and despair. Who could view such a scene unmoved. As you approach still closer, protective instinct, if possible, works more power- fully within her ; her cries, with those of her mate, dis- turb the birds around ; the Red Grouse, startled, skims over the shoulder of the hill to find solitude; the Moor Pipit chirps anxiously by, and the gay little Stonechat flits uneasily from bush to bush. How great is her maternal love! How unceasing in his vigilance is her mate! Let us leave them to their rugged haunt, to attend to their duties in what the birds love best, the absence of man and the presence of solitude. Even when the nest is but half built I have known these birds unceasing in their efforts todrive me away. I have even struck the bird repeatedly with a fishing-rod, but, undaunted, she has kept up the unequal contest, and followed me quite out of the neighbourhood of her unfinished home, and then returned in triumph to aid in its completion. The food of the Ring Ousel is snails and worms, for which they may often be seen hunting on the marshy land peculiar to the moors : insects and beetles are also eaten. When the bilberries are ripe the bird subsists largely on them ; the gardens, too, near their haunts, when the various fruits are ripe, suffer considerably from their repeated visits. But soon the fruit is gathered, and the Ring Ousels must see about their great journey. They leave their haunts solitarily, or in little parties, but as they journey southwards they congregate in flocks, THE RING OUSEL. 51 and very probably keep in flocks throughout the winter, and until they return once more to their northern breeding-grounds. The moors glow in all the splendour of their purple tints, the woods and coppices are already touched by autumn’s magic wand, and the Ring Ousels must not tarry. To do so would probably be death ; for peaceful and lovely as the scene now appears, the winter is nigh with all its terrors,and the Ring Ousels,by Nature's mandates commanded, leave the moor and the moun- tain, to spend their winter secure in a southern clime. It has been said that the Ring Ousel winters in England ; but from my knowledge of the habits of this bird, the case is only analogous with the Swallow. THE BLACKBIRD. Hr who makes field ornithology his study will not fail to notice how each district, varying in its scenery, possesses birds peculiar to it alone. Thus the Red Grouse loves his lonely moor ; the Lapwing delights to soar in recling flight over the naked common ; the Woodpecker loves the silent woods, and the Landrail his pastoral haunt. Birds of the Thrush family, too, exhibit this pre- ference ina marked degree. Thus we find the Thrush, Blackbird, and Redwing inhabit, as a rulc, our pastoral lands and shrubberics; the Vieldfare is a wanderer ; while the family is represented by the Misscl-thrush in the woods and wilder districts; while, yet again, the heath-covered moor and mountain-sides have their charm for the Ring Ousel. It is in the shrubberies, where the laurels, the yews, and the hollies spread their glossy branches, and where the ivy climbs up the trees in wild confusion, that we find the Blackbird in greatest abundance, especially so THE BLACKBIRD. 53 if grass lands adjoin them. Being by nature a shy and retiring bird, these situations are preferred before any other, simply because the evergreen’s dark and gloomy branches afford him nesting-sites, roosting-places, and, above all, the seclusion which he loves. As you wander through the shrubberies, say when the shadows of night are falling, you will often hear a rustling noise under the spreading laurels, amongst the withered leaves. It is the Blackbird, frightened at your approach. If you alarm him still further, he dashes rapidly out, and with loud and startling cries flies off to some safer cover. As the darkness deepens you have good opportunity of watching their actions when retiring to rest. Conceal yourself under the friendly branches of a yew tree, and wait patiently. You hear their loud startling cries in all directions, and catch occasional glimpses of their dark forms flitting hither and thither in the gloom. Pink, pink, pink, tac, tac, tac, tac, is heard on every side. Now one comes fluttering into the bush under which you are concealed, and his notes startle you by their nearness. A short distance away another answers. Another and another, in different directions, also swell the noisy clamour, and you hear on every side their fluttering wings amongst the perennial branches around you. Gradually the cries cease in number as the birds settle down to rest; a solitary cry will break the stillness of the evening air, but remain un- answered ; and the only sounds that break the oppressive silence are the evening notes of the Robin, or mayhap the peculiar call of the Goatsucker, winnowing his way through the trackless air above. Morning and evening are the times the Blackbird usually seeks his food. This is for the most part, in summer at least, obtained on the grass land near his 54 RURAL BIRD LIFE. haunts. One by one you see them fly rapidly out and alight amongst the grass. He remains motionless for a few seconds after alighting, with legs at a graceful angle, neck arched, head slightly turned aside, as though he were listening intently, and tail almost at right angles to the body (for be it known the Blackbird, like the Magpie and the Ring Ousel, always elevates the tail upon alighting), which is crouching low amongst the herbage. When in this position he presents an attitude the acme of easy gracefulness and beauty. No museum attitude there, for he can never be seen in such graceful, though wary ease, save when in the full enjoyment of life and vigour. Therefore, he who would wish to see this jet black chorister in such attitude must stray into his haunts at morning or eventide, and watch his motions when on the pastures in search of ‘his meal. Few birds are more wary whilst feeding than the Blackbird, and the instant danger threatens he retires into the fastnesses whence he came. Morning and evening are the times animal substances abound on the pastures : it is then the small snails occur in largest numbers, and the earthworms leave their holes and visit the surface of the ground. The Blackbird knows this full well, and acts accordingly. It is an animating sight to see a number of these birds engaged in feeding; now digging away at some tenacious worm ; now exploring the manure heap for the beetles, worms, and insect life with which it abounds, every now and then pausing in their labours and look- ing warily around. At the sight of so many Blackbirds together you would most likely consider them as a gregarious species, yet the reverse is the case, and it is only their food brings them together. All their food, however, is not obtained from the pastures. Lurking amongst the hedgerows are numerous snails, inhabiting THE BLACKBIRD. 55 prettily marked shells : these shells the Blackbird breaks open and preys upon the snails within. Insects and grubs are also eaten, and in the autumn months the berries of the mountain ash, service tree, hawthorn, and wild rose are eaten in abundance. Our garden fruits are also eaten, wild fruits too are preyed upon—notably the wild raspberry, blackberry, and sloe. Should his depre- dations amongst your fruit trouble you, take not his life, and bear in mind his labours in the spring time make ample amends for any losses of fruit that occur in autumn, and his music is as charming as that of any other songster that fills the grove with gladness. The Blackbird is a pugnacious creature in pairing time.