r>W*;v* > R7 &■' % f?6WS>/ Library of the University of Toronto . Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from University of Toronto \ https://archive.org/details/domestichabitsofOOrenn PUBLISHED UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OP THE SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. THE LIBRARY OK ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE. THE DOMESTIC HABITS OF BIRDS committee: Chairman — The Right Hon. THE LORD CHANCELLOR.^ Vice-Chairman — The Right Hon. SIR HENRY PARNELL, Bart., M.P. Treasurer — WILLIAM TOOKE, Esq., M.P., F.R.S. W. Allen, Esq., F.R. and R.A.S. Rt. Hon. Viscount Althorp, M.P., Chancellor of the Exchequer. W. B. Baring, Esq , M.P. Capt. F. Beaufort, R.N., F.R. and R.A.S., Hydrographer to the Ad¬ miralty. Sir C. Bell, F.R.S.L. &E. G. Burrows, M.D. C. Hay Cameron, Esq. The Right Rev. the Bishop of Chichester, D.D. William Coulson, Esq. R. D. Craig, Esq. Wm. Crawford, Esq. J. Fred. Daniell, Esq., F.R.S. Rt. Hon. Lord Chief Justice Denman. Rt. Hon. Lord Dover, F.R.S., F.S.A. Lieut. Drummond, R.E., F. R.A.S. Rt. Hon. Viscount Ebrington, M.P. T. F. Ellis, Esq., M.A., F. R.A.S. John Elliotson, M.D., F.R.S. Thomas Falconer, Esq. I. L. Goldsmid, Esq. F.R. and R.A.S. B. Gompertz, Esq , F.R. and R.A.S. G. B. Greenough, Esq., F.R. and L.S. H. Hallam, Esq., F.R.S., M.A. M. D. Hill, Esq., M.P. Rowland Hill, Esq., F. R.A.S. Edwin Hill, Esq. David Jardine, Esq., M.A. Henry B. Ker, Esq. Th. Hewitt Key, Esq., M.A. J. G. S. Lefevre, Esq. George C. Lewis, Esq.. M.A. James Loch, Esq., M.P., F.G.S. George Long, Esq., M.A. J. W. Lubbock, Esq., F.R., R.A., anil L.S.S. H. Malden, Esq., M.A. A. T. Malkin, Esq., M.A. James Manning, Esq. J. Herman Merivale, Esq., F.A.S. James Mill, Esq. W. H. Ord, Esq., M.P. Dr. Roget, Sec. R.S., F.R A.S. Rt. Hon. Lord John Russell, M.P. Sir M. A. Shee, P.R.A., F.R.S. Rev. Rich. Sheepshanks, M.A. J. Smith. Esq., M.P. John Taylor, Esq., F.R.S. Dr. A. T. Thomson, F.L.S. N. A. Vigors, Esq., M.P., F.R.S. John Ward, Esq. H. Waymouth, Esq. J. Whishaw, Esq., M.A., F.R.S. John Wrottesley, Esq., M.A., F. R.A.S. THOMAS COATES, Secretary, No. 59, Lincoln’s Inn Fields. THE LIBRARY OF ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE THE \ DOMESTIC HABITS OF BIRDS. LONDON: CHARLES KNIGHT, 22, LUDGATE STREET, AND 13, PALL-MALL EAST; LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN, PATERNOSTER-ROW J OLIVER AND BOYD, EDINBURGH; ATKINSON AND CO., GLASGOW; WAKEMAN, DUBLIN; W1LLMER AND SMITH, LIVERPOOL ; BAINES AND CO., LEEDS; AND JACKSON, NEW YORK. MDCCCXXXIII / LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES, Duke Street, Lambeth. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Habits of cleanliness in Birds . . Small animals the most cleanly . Rump-gland according to Willughby Argument of Reaumur against its supposed use Experiment by J. R. .... Pulverizing Birds .... Abreuvoir of the Continent . . . Washing among young birds Serrated claws of Herons and Night-jars Anecdote of a Swallow. Use of the tongue as a cleaning instrument Page 1 1 3 4 G 8 10 11 14 ‘20 20 Analogy in Quadrupeds 21 Analogy from the grub of the Glow-worm 23 CHAPTER II. s, solitary and gregarious, on account of food • 27 Instance from Sheep .... • 28 Turkey Buzzard and Black Vulture • 30 Anecdote from Wilson .... • 32 Anecdote from Ord .... • 34 Town Sparrows ..... • 35 Sparrow, Crow, and Stork courts • 37 Rooks appoint sentinels • 38 Leader of the Cranes .... • 39 Watch of the Golden Plover . • 41 A VI CONTENTS. King of the Quails • • Page 43 Origin of the notion of King Birds • • 43 King Bird of Paradise . • • 44 King of the Vultures . • • 45 Eagle as King of the Birds • • 46 Eagle standards of nations • • 47 The Condor • • 48 The Wren, a King Bird • • 49 ary Birds . • • 50 The Jack-snipe . • fi 50 The Sand-piper and Wagtail • • 52 The Dunlin • • 53 CHAPTER III. Birds, solitary or gregarious, on account of shelter or assist¬ ance ........ The sociable Grosbeak of Africa .... Anecdote of a Swallow . Analogy from Insects and Quadrupeds Crowding together of House Sparrows . . . Contest for places among Bottle-tits Roosting of the Blackbird, Thrush, and Starling . Roosting of the Wren ...... Analogy from Sheep ...... Birds solitary and gregarious at different seasons The Lark ........ The Wheat-ear ....... 54 54 55 56 59 60 61 62 63 65 65 67 CHAPTER IV. Pairing of Birds ....... 69 Extraordinary proportion of the sexes . . .69 Difference in the male parents of quadrupeds and birds 70 CONTENTS. Vll Pajre Instance in Rooks . ..... 70 The Capocier of Africa . . . . .72 The White headed Eagle and the Fish-hawk . . 73 Magpie and Black-cap . . . . .74 The Goldfinch, Aberdevine, and Canary . . .78 Migratory agitation . . . . . .80 The alleged chastity of the Turtle-dove . . .82 Anecdote of a Guinea Parrot . . . .84 CHAPTER V. Peculiarities in Pairing ...... 86 The Wild Turkey . . . . . .86 Fighting of the males . . . . . .88 Roosts of Wild Turkeys . . . . .89 Black Grouse . . . . . . .91 Ruffed Grouse of America . . . . .91 Pinnated Grouse ... ... 94 Assemblage of Bustards . . . . .97 Booming of the Bittern . . . . .99 Killing of Ruffs ....... 99 Fighting of Ruffs ...... 100 Cock-fighting ....... 103 CHAPTER VI. Structure of Eggs . . . . . . .105 Egg-organ, or ovarium . . . . .106 Embryo egg . . . . . . .107 Parts of the egg ...... 109 Use of the white . . . . . .111 Singular mechanism ...... 112 Chemical constituents of an egg . . . .114 Air-bag in the egg ...... 114 Subventaneous eggs . . . . . .116 Vlll CONTENTS. Page CHAPTER VII. Colour of Eggs . . . . . . .118 Use of colours . . . . . . .118 Instances from flowers, shells, and spiders . .119 Formation of the egg-shell . . . . .119 Canary’s eggs ....... 121 Variety of markings in the same species . . .122 Theories of Darwin and Gloger .... 123 Objections thereto ...... 126 CHAPTER VIII. Facts observed in Hatching ..... 132 Anecdotes from Pliny and Reaumur . . .132 Artificial hatching in Egypt . . . . .133 Egyptian egg-oven or mamal . . . .135 Experiments of Reaumur . . . . .138 Hatching eggs in dung ..... 143 Hatching in a bake-house ..... 144 Experiment with the eggs of a Wood-wren . 145 CHAPTER IX. Evolution of the Chick : Egg twelve hours after incubation . . . .14 After sixteen hours . . . . . .148 After thirty-six hours . . . . .150 After four days . . . . . .151 After five days . . . . . .152 After six days ...... 153 After seven and eight days . . . .154 After nine days . . . . . .155 After ten days ...... 156 After fourteen days . . . . . .158 After eighteen days ...... 160 CONTENTS. IX Page Egg after twenty days . . 162 Exit of the chick . 162 Bill scale ..... . 163 Fracture of the shell . 170 Fertility of eggs .... . 172 Chick glued to the shell . 173 CHAPTER X. tering of the Young . 175 Difference of small birds from poultry . 175 Training of capons as nurses . . 1 77 Curious instance of a cat . 178 Legend of Romulus and Remus . 180 Experiments on capons . . . 181 Artificial mothers . 184 Reaumur’s stove hatching-house . 187 Artificial mother for water-fowls . . 188 CHAPTER XI. ing of the Young • . 189 John Hunter’s remarks on Pigeons • . 190 Mistakes of Vieillot and Temminck • . 193 Legend of the Pelican . • . 194 Origin thereof .... • . 196 Pelican confounded with the Spoonbill • . 197 Eagles carrying off children — Ganymede • . 199 Owls ..... • . 200 Chaffinches and Tom-tits . . • . 202 Calculations of Bradley • . 203 Remarks of Knapp • . 204 Rooks ..... • . 205 Swallows ..... • . 206 Affection of parent birds • . 208 Humming-bird .... f . 210 A 3 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XII. Training of young Birds by their Parents Instinct ..... Training of young Eagles The Stork .... Remarks on the common opinion . Instance from Salmon-fry Swallows and Sparrows Warnings of danger Anecdote from Smellie . . Instructions in catching prey Rooks ..... Page . 212 . 212 . 212 . 214 . 214 . 216 . 216 . 218 . 219 . 221 . 222 CHAPTER XIII. Vocal Organs of Birds Mechanism of the voice . . . . Aldrovand’s account of the Wild Swan Another Wild Swan discovered by Mr. Kingcote Vocal organs of birds according to Herissant Remarks of Hunter, Cuvier, and Kircher . Tongue of the Nightingale Call-note of the Bittern Mistake of Thomson .... Bleating of the Snipe .... Crowned Pigeon of Africa . 225 . 225 . 231 . 233 . 235 . 236 . 237 . 239 . 243 . 245 . 246 CHAPTER XIV Language of Birds The Richel Bird . Natural notes of alarm . Theory of Darwin Variety in the language of birds Social signals for congregating Fables originating therefrom . . 247 . 247 . 247 . 249 . 252 . 253 , 256 CONTENTS. XI Page The Butcher Bird ...... 257 Various notes from Kircher ..... 258 CHAPTER XV.; Songs of Birds ....... 260 Female birds rarely sing ..... 260 Supposed cause of singing ..... 266 Autumnal and winter songs ..... 267 Recording ....... 269 Singing influenced by weather and food . . . 272 Theory of imitation ...... 272 Experiment on a Sky-lark by J. R. . . . 279 Vocal organs of song-birds ..... 283 Characters of the Nightingale’s song . . . 284 CHAPTER XVI. Song of Birds continued ...... 290 Comparative table by Barrington and Syme . . 290 The Wood-thrush and Song-thrush .... 291 The Dunnock and Chaffinch ..... 293 Nightingales of the north and the south . . . 294 Theory of Buffon ..... 297 Remarks of Goldsmith ...... 298 The Pine Grosbeak ...... 299 American song-birds ...... 302 Keys of bird music ...... 305 Chanting Falcon ....... 307 Singing of the Swan ...... 308 Night-song birds ...... 313 Dreams of birds ...... 315 CHAPTER XVII. Imitation and mimicry of Birds ..... 316 Origin of the pleasure caused by imitation . . 31 6» CONTENTS. • • XU Anecdote of a Starling .... Probable explanation of mocking in birds . The Polyglot-chat .... The Blue-jay ..... Mocking-bird of America Comparison with the Nightingale . The Ratisbon Nightingale Colonel O’Kelly’s grey Parrot Testimony of the Hon. and Rev. W. Herbert CHAPTER XVIII. Longevity of Birds ..... Physical causes of old age . . Diseases in a state of nature . The Raven, the Pelican, and the Eagle Fabulous account of the Eagle Grey-headed Sparrows CHAPTER XIX. The Phoenix. — the Bernacle Goose Account of the Phoenix by Herodotus Account by Tacitus .... Probable origin of the legends Fanciful accounts thereof Account from Bruce .... Anecdote from Pliny .... The Bernacle, or Claik Goose Ocular witnesses of its fabulous origin Gerard’s figure . . . Its true history known before 1280 Origin of the legends .... The Flying-fish. .... * i Page . 317 . 319 . 320 . 323 . 325 . 332 . 335 . 337 . 338 . 340 . 340 . 342 . 345 . 348 . 350 . 351 . 351 . 354 . 356 . 357 . 359 . 362 . 362 . 363 . 369 . 373 . 375 . 378 ILLUSTRATIONS. No. Page 1. Rumkin, or Tail-less Cock ..... 5 2. Night-heron • . . . . . .15 3. Pectinated Claw of Night-heron . . . .15 4. Carolina Night-jar, or Chuck-will’s-widow . . 16 5. Night-jar’s Foot, showing the Pectinated Claw . .17 6. Podargus Auritus . . . . . .19 7. Magnified Plan of the Cleaning Instrument . . 24 8. Larva of the Glow-worm, using its Cleaning Instrument 25 9. Grub of the Glow-worm devouring a Snail . . 26 10. Turkey Buzzard and Black Vulture . . . .31 11. The Crane ....... 40 12. King-bird of Paradise ...... 45 13. King of the Vultures . . . . . .46 14. Condor attacking a Puma . . . . .48 15. The Jack-snipe ....... 50 16. The Dunlin ....... 53 17. The White-headed Eagle and Fish-hawk . . .73 18. The Black-cap ....... 75 19. The Aberdevine and Nest . . . . .78 20. The Wild Turkey and Young . . . . .87 21. The Ruffed Grouse ...... 92 22. Pinnated Grouse in the act of strutting . . .96 23. American Grouse ( Tetrao obscurus) . . .98 24. The Ovarium, or Egg-organ ..... 106 25. Embryo impregnated Egg . . . . .107 XIV ILLUSTRATIONS. No. Page 26. New-laid Egg, with part of the Shell removed . . 110 27. Egg of Black-cap . . . . . .123 28. Egg of the Tom-tit . . . . . '.125 29. Egg of the Sky-lark ...... 126 30. Egg of the Blackbird ...... 127 31. Egg of the Magpie ...... 130 32. Egyptian Egg-oven . . . . . .135 33. Ground-plan of an Egyptian Egg-oven , . . 136 34. Transverse section and elevation of an Egyptian Egg- oven ........ 137 35. Transverse section and perspective elevation of an Egyptian Egg-oven . . . . . . 13S 36. Egg-frame ........ 142 37. Hatching Eggs in Dung ..... 143 38. Hatching-room over the bake-house ovens of the Priory of L’Enfant Jesus at Paris ..... 144 39. An Egg as it appears twelve hours after incubation, with a magnified view of the Embryo Chick . . 147 40. An Egg as it appears sixteen hours after incubation, with a magnified view of the Embryo Chick . .148 41. An Egg as it appears thirty-six hours after incubation, with a magnified view of the Embryo Chick . . 149 42. An Egg opened thirty-six hours after incubation, with a magnified view of the Embryo Chick, In which is shown the first appearance of the principal blood¬ vessels . . . . . . . .150 43. An Egg opened four days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick .... 151 44. An Egg as it appears five days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick . . . .152 45. An Egg as it appears six days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick , . . ,153 ILLUSTRATIONS. XV No. Page 46. An Egg as it appears seven days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick . . . .154 47. An Egg as it appears eight days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick .... 154 48. An Egg as it appears nine days after incubation . .155 49. The same Egg turned more to its right side . . 155 50. An Egg as it appears ten days after incubation . .156 51. The Embryo Chick taken from the preceding Egg, with the amnion and vesicle removed . . . .157 52. An Egg as it appears fourteen days after incubation . 158 53. The same Egg, with the external half of the vesicle removed . . . . . . . .158 54. The Embryo of the preceding Egg, opened to show the course of the principal blood-vessels which go to the vesicle and to the areolar membrane . . . 55. An Egg as it appears eighteen days after incubation 56. The same Egg, with part of the vesicle removed, to show the Embryo Chick more clearly 57. The Embryo Chick opened to show the absorption of the yolk into the body ...... 58. An Egg as it appears twenty days after incubation, the vesicle and amnion are removed, to show the position of the perfect Chick ...... 59. Position of the Chick in the Egg .... GO. Position of the Chick in the Egg .... 61. Eggs fractured by the included Chick 62. Positions of the Shell after the escape of the Chick 63. Artificial Mothers ...... 64. Improved artificial Mother ..... 65. Reaumur’s Stove Hatching-house .... 66. Artificial Mother for Water-fowls .... 67. Crops of Pigeons 159 160 160 161 162 164 165 170 171 184 185 187 188 191 XVI ILLUSTRATIONS. No. Page 68. Breast-bone of a Wild Swan, with part of the Keel removed to show the convolutions of the Trachea within it . . . . . . . . 232 69. Point of the Keel-bone, showing the opening through which the Trachea enters and returns* . . 232 70. Trachea of C. Bewickii .... . 234 71. Singularly formed Windpipe of the Butor . . 245 72. Crowned Pigeon of Africa . 246 73. The Wood-thrush .... . 292 74. Pine Grosbeak, or Hawfinch . . 299 75. Chanting Falcon ..... . 307 76 The Polyglot-chat . . 320 77. Lammer Geyer, Bearded Eagle, or Vulture . 361 78. Bernacle, or Claik Goose . 363 79. Bernacle Goose-tree, from Gerard’s Herbal . 369 80. Bernacle Goose-tree, from Aldrovand . 372 81. Bernacle Shell ..... . 376 82. Fowders of St. Kilda .... . 377 DOMESTIC HABITS OF BIRDS. Chapter I. HABITS OF CLEANLINESS IN BIRDS. Animals appear to be cleanly in proportion to their sprightliness and activity ; and small animals, with few exceptions, are also more active and more cleanly than those of a larger size. The domestic habits of birds, as well as what may be called their personal habits, furnish us with many illustrations of their peculiar attention to cleanliness, some of which it may prove interesting to detail. The in¬ stant any of their feathers are soiled they set about trimming them, and they are no less attentive to their nests. It is, no doubt, the same uncomfortable feeling which we experience when our hair becomes disar¬ ranged or tangled that induces birds to smooth their feathers; the matting together, for example, of two contiguous feathers at the points, causing them upon every motion of the muscles of the skin to twitch away the parts from which they spring. The irrita¬ tion thus produced incites the bird to examine the feathers contiguous to the part ; and by nibbling every plumelet with its beak, it soon succeeds in bringing them into their proper position, while it frees them, at the same time, from any extraneous matter that may adhere to them. It is surprising how soon nestling birds may B 2 HABITS OF BIRDS. be seen thus trimming themselves. A short time after they are able to open their eyes, while the down which covers them when hatched has not begun to be replaced by feathers, we have, in nu¬ merous instances, seen them turning round their heads and going over all the tiny bits of down and the ends of the sprouting feathers within their reach. This might be plausibly supposed to be ra¬ ther the mother’s task, and it is usually so stated in books ; but though the mother is very attentive, as we shall presently see, to every species of cleanliness, Providence has ordered that so important a circum¬ stance should not be left wholly to her care. Those who have not an opportunity of verifying our remark in the case of nestling birds, may readily observe the same thing in domestic animals. Cats, for ex¬ ample, are very assiduous in cleaning the fur of their kittens, for which purpose their rough tongue is ad¬ mirably adapted : but a kitten, like the nestling bird, when only a few days old, may be seen dressing itself assiduously ; and as soon as it can run about, it will even endeavour to clean its dam. This cir¬ cumstance we never observed among young birds and their mothers ; though it is by no means un¬ common among rabbits, horses, and other domestic quadrupeds. Mutual assistance in cleaning is even given by individuals not of the same family, as may be seen in horses dressing each other’s necks ; and Wilson relates an instance of the same thing in the case of two birds, not even of the same species, in his inimitable account of the blue jay ( Garrulus cristatus , Brisson). An individual of this species, which had been caught in the woods, was put into the same cage with an orchard oriole ( Icterus spurins , Bonaparte), who at first received the new¬ comer with no little jealousy ; but this all vanished in a few hours, and they lived together in good humour. CLEANLINESS. 3 te When the jay goes to drink,” the narrative proceeds, “ his messmate very impudently jumps into the water to wash herself, throwing it in showers over her com¬ panion, who bears it all patiently ; venturing now and then to take a sip between every splash, without betraying the smallest irritation. On the contrary, he seems to take pleasure in his little fellow-prisoner allowing her to peck (which she does very gently) about his whiskers, and to clean his claws from the minute fragments of chesnuts which happen to ad¬ here to them*.” Ducks and other water-birds are, if possible, more assiduous in trimming their feathers than land-birds, one reason for which appears to be, that their plumelets being of very close texture, any slight de¬ rangement in them is readily felt from the air getting access to the skin through the breach thence oc¬ casioned. The closeness of feather in aquatic birds serves to present an impenetrable texture to the water in which they swim, as well as a smooth surface which diminishes the effects of friction in their progress. The greater number of authors, in addition to this, tell us that birds, and more particularly aquatic birds, dress their feathers with a peculiar oil furnished for this purpose by a gland on the rump ; but this is an opinion which we shall presently see admits of con¬ siderable doubt. It may be well, however, to state the particulars of the common notion. “ Upon the rump,” says Willughby, “ grow two glandules, designed for the preparation and secretion of a certain unctuous humour, and furnished with a hole or excretory ves¬ sel. About this hole grows a tuft of small feathers or hairs, somewhat like to a painter’s pencil. When, therefore, the parts of the feathers are shattered, ruffled, or any way discomposed, the bird, turning * Wilson, Amer. Ornith. i. J5. B 2 4 HABITS OF BIRDS. her head backward to her rump, with her bill catches hold of the fore-named tuft, and pressing1 the glandules, forces out the oily pap, and therewithal anointing the disjoined parts of the feathers, and drawing them out with her bill, recomposes and places them in due order, and causes them to stick faster together*.” “ The glands which secrete the oil,” says Blumenbach, “on the upper part of the tail, are largest in aquatic birds ; in some of which, as the Muscovy duck ( Anas moschatct ), the secreted substance has a musk-like odour t-” The statement just given from Willnghby is adopted by most of the systematic writers, though a few of them take no notice whatever of the existence of the rump glands. “ On the back,” we are told by Linnaeus, “ or upper surface of the rump, there are two glands which secrete an oily fluid, with which the birds anoint their feathers J.” “ The lower part of the back,” says Dr. Latham, “ is furnished with a double gland, secreting an oily fluid for the use of dressing the feathers §.” The recent authors who adopt this opinion would appear, from their taking no notice of them, to be unacquainted with the observations of M. Reaumur, which we shall abstract. The glands on the rump, he remarks, secrete an unctuous fluid, discharged in some birds by one, and in others by two excretory canals. Poultry have but one of these canals, which consists of a conical fleshy pipe of a series of rings, placed almost perpendicular to the rump; and when this gland is pressed by the fingers, the fluid, thickish in consistence, is seen to exude. But in a peculiar species of barn-door fowls, without * Ray’s Willughby, p. 3. t Comp. Anat. by Lawrence and Coulson, p. 147. J Ker’s Linnaeus, p. 409. § General History of Birds, i, 22, CLEANLINESS, 5 tails (Galina ecaudatus , Temminck), originally it would appear from Ceylon *, the tail, the rump, and the gland are all wanting, the part where these grow in other species being depressed and smooth Itumkin or Tail-less Cock. Were an attempt made to assign a reason why these Ceylonese fowls have no unctuous gland on the rump, a mistake might as readily be committed as has, it would appear, been done in the theory framed to account for the use of the gland in birds which possess it. All the works of nature being lavishly filled with wonders, fitted to raise most just admiration of the Creator, those who, with very laudable intentions, undertake to exhibit these won- * Temminck, Hist, des Pig. et Gall. ii. 267. B 3 6 HABITS OF BIRDS. ders, may be considered as in some degree blameable when they introduce into their enumeration circum¬ stances that are vague and uncertain. Among such doubtful things appears to be the opinion that the feathers of birds require to be done over with a kind of oil or grease, in order to cause the rain or other water to run off without penetrating them, the unction, when wanted, being supplied by the gland on the rump. If those who adopt this opinion, plausible as it seems to be, had taken the trouble to ascertain the small quantity of fluid actually secreted by this gland from day to day, and compared it with the proportional extent of surface constituted by the assemblage of the numberless feathers of any particular bird, not to speak of the instrument with which the dressing is said to be effected, they would have seen at once that the theory is untenable, as the quantity secreted in one day would scarcely suffice to anoint a single feather, much less the whole. We have just squeezed out all the oil contained in the double rump gland of a com¬ mon wren, and found it impossible to make it go over one of the tail feathers*. “ One fact,” says M. Le Vaillant, “ is frequently sufficient to demolish a theory t;” and the fact that the feathers of the rumpless fowls which have no gland are as smooth and proof against rain as those which possess the gland, furnishes a striking illustration of the remark. The fact, however, is unquestionable that birds are sometimes seen pecking about the gland in question. But the observing of a bird thus en¬ gaged, so far from authorizing the received conclu¬ sion, might have shown that the point of the bill could never squeeze out enough of fluid for the pur¬ pose alleged. The only legitimate inference would have been that some slight pain or irritation had caused the bird to peck the gland ; and every school- * J. R. t Hist. Nat. des Perroouets, i. 20. CLEANLINESS. 7 hoy knows that the canal of this gland often be¬ comes obstructed in his pet birds, and occasions a troublesome and sometimes fatal engorgement*. The remark of Blumenbach f that the gland is largest in aquatic birds, contains a generalization not warranted by facts ; for grebes, divers, and such as want tails, have the gland much smaller though their feathers are as smooth and as impenetrable by water as those of the terns and the gulls which have considerable tails. It is only requisite, indeed, for any one to watch a bird preening its feathers, to be convinced of the fal¬ lacy of the theory. We have attended for hours to various species of birds when thus engaged ; arid so far from constantly returning to the rump-gland, which by the hypothesis would be indispensable for dressing every successive feather, it is rarely visited at all during the operation, and when it is, the sole object seems to be to trim the pencil of feathers which surrounds the gland §. Had we any doubts upon the subject, the simple experiment of covering the gland in one hen or duck so as to prevent the bird having access to it, and leaving it uncovered in another, for a few days or weeks, would, by the state of the feathers in each, set the question at rest. Independently of such an experiment, common to all birds, the circumstance of the feathers on the head being equally trim, smooth, and glossy with those on the body, though they cannot be oiled, as it is impos¬ sible to reach the head with the bill — the only instru¬ ment by which the oil could be applied — is of itself fatal to the theory. Should we be asked what we consider to be the use of the gland, we must at once say that we do * Reaumur, Oiseaux Domestiques, ii. 332. f Seep. 4. J Ray’s Willughby, p, 3. § J.R. 8 HABITS OF BIRDS. not know ; but our ignorance of its real use fur¬ nishes no support to the conjectural theory which the preceding facts prove to be erroneous, no less than some others connected with cleanliness which we shall now mention. The Mohammedan Arabs of the desert, when they cannot procure water to perform the stated ablutions enjoined by the Koran, have recourse to dry sand, with which they rub their bodies as a substitute* ; and it is no doubt as a substitute for washing that some birds, thence called pulverizers (Pulvinatores) , are fond of squatting in dust and hustling it into their feathers. Caged larks may thus be seen rubbing their breasts amongst the dry mould at the side of their withered turf with the utmost eagerness. A hasty observer might perhaps be led to conclude that this was done with the design of looking for insects; but the eye of the bird directed away from the spot and expressive of inward pleasure, would show him that such a conjecture could not be supported. A more familiar instance of pulverizing may be observed in the barn-door fowl, even the unfledged chickens of which we have observed muddling in the dust by in¬ stinct, it should seem, as they were too young to have learned the practice from experience or by imitation. Now, had the feathers of these pulverizers been pre¬ viously smeared with any unctuous matter, such as that in the rump-gland, the dust would have adhered, and thus tended to soil rather than to cleanse them. The design with which these birds hustle amongst dust is supposed to be to suffocate or banish the bird- lice ( Nirmi ), with which most birds are infested; on the same principle as swine wallow in the mire, and as the rhinoceros and elephant in Nubia roll themselves in mud to defend themselves from the terrible breeze * Volney, Egypt and Syria, vol. ii. CLEANLINESS. 9 fly called zimb *. Be this as it may, we have not ob¬ served birds, after pulverizing, employed in combing the dust out of their feathers with their bills; they seem, on the contrary, to prefer its remaining. This curious subject may be illustrated by a cir¬ cumstance observed by the traveller just quoted, in an eagle (Gypaetos barbatus, Storr) which he shot in Abyssinia. “ Upon laying hold,” says he, “ of his monstrous carcass, I was not a little surprised at seeing my hands covered and tinged with yellow powder or dust. On turning him upon his belly and examining the feathers of his back, they also produced a dust, the colour of the feathers there. This dust was not in small quantities ; for, upon striking the breast, the yellow powder flew in full greater quantity than from a hair-dresser’s powder- puff. The feathers of the belly and breast, which were of a gold colour, did not appear to have any¬ thing extraordinary in their formation ; but the large feathers in the shoulder and wings seemed appa¬ rently to be fine tubes, which, upon pressure, scat¬ tered this dust upon the finer part of the feather ; but this was brown, the colour of the feathers of the back. Upon the side of the wing, the ribs or hard part of the feathers seemed to be bare, as if worn ; or, I rather think, were renewing themselves, having before failed in their functions. What is the rea¬ son of this extraordinary provision of nature, it is not in my power to determine. As it is an unusual one, it is probably meant for a defence against the climate, in favour of birds which live in those almost inaccessible heights of a country doomed, even in its lowest parts, to several months’ excessive rain -f.” A powdering of dust, however, we may remark in reference to this conjecture, would seem to be a bad protection against a heavy shower. * Bruce’s Travels. + Travels, Appendix, p. 155. 10 HABITS OF BIRDS. A great number of birds are fond of washing their plumes, by throwing water over them with their beaks, and even dipping their bodies in ponds or streams. So universal is this habit, that it is taken advantage of on the Continent to entrap wild birds by means of what is called an Abreuvoir. “No¬ thing,” says M. Bechstein, “ can be more agreeable, during the hot weather of summer, than the sport thence arising, while seated tranquilly under the shade of thick foliage, by the side of a slow running brook. According to the extent of the place, a net from three to six feet long, by three or four feet in width, is extended over a rill which has been dug ex¬ pressly for conducting the water of the adjoining stream. A number of rods, about an inch in diame¬ ter, are stuck in this rill upon a level with the water, where rings are fixed to prevent the net from being wetted, — the remainder of the little canal being co¬ vered over with boughs. When the place is well chosen it will be surrounded all day long, but par¬ ticularly early in the morning and near sunset, the time for beginning to place the net being about the middle of July*.” Mr. Knapp mentions the linnet (Linaria Linota) as the cleanliest of birds in this respect, — since it delights to dabble in the water and dress its plumage in every rill that runs by f ; but we do not think the linnet washes more frequently than any of the other smaller birds ( Sylvicolce , Vieillot). The linnet, the chaffinch, and all the seed-eating birds, indeed, we have remarked to wash less frequently than the slender-billed birds ( Sylviadce , Vigors), to which washing seems almost as necessary as food and air. These are accordingly amongst the most frequent captures in the Abreuvoirs, as we learn from M. * Manuel de l’Amateur, p. 67, 2d edit. f Journ, of a Naturalist, p. 154, 3d edit. CLEANLINESS. 11 Rechstein ; and in water near their haunts we see them every day assiduously bathing. In confinement, again, they wash much oftener than the seed-eaters. A redbreast, which we at present possess, will wash at any hour of the day or night when he is furnished with water, and his feathers are scarcely dry before he is eager to renew his bath, which he would do, if permitted, a dozen times a day ; while a goldfinch in a neighbouring cage does not care about washing above once or twice a week. A fine black-cap, which is also in our possession, is nearly as fond of frequent washing: as the redbreast*. Mr. Sweet finds that when his more tender birds are allowed to wash as often as they would do, particularly in winter, it is apt to prove injurious, and sometimes fatal f. “ One of the most remarkable propensities that manifest themselves in young birds,” says the Hon. and Rev. W. Herbert, “is the ardent desire of washing themselves, in some species, and of dusting themselves, in others, as for instance in the common wren. This, I conceive, must be an instinctive incite¬ ment. It is barely possible that the little wrens might see through the aperture of their covered nest the parents dusting themselves on the ground in some instances ; but their nests are often placed where this could not be perceived, and the desire is equally powerful in all individuals. On the other hand, the nests of the wood-wren and manv others \ * which wash themselves eagerly on the first opportu¬ nity that presents itself after they can feed themselves, could never have seen the like, their nest having; been situated under the roots of a tree upon a dry bank in a wood. This impulse is, therefore, inspired by the Creator ; and it is inspired with a force that in cap¬ tivity is like unto madness. It is very injurious to a * J. R. t British Warblers, passim. 12 HABITS OP BIRDS. nightingale to wash in the winter, and it is fatal to it to do so often ; yet the moment a pan of water is put into its cage, it rushes into the water and soaks itself, and then stands shivering the very image of chilliness and despair; yet will it eagerly repeat the operation, if allowed to do so, every day till it dies. Young whinchats, sedge-warblers, wood- wrens, yellow wrens, &c. as soon as they can feed themselves, if offered water in a cage, wash with similar avidity ; yet if the temperature be much under 70°, and the sun not shining, it is sure to kill them. In the younger birds it produces, some hours after and perhaps the next day, a sudden stroke of palsy, by which they drop with a scream, having lost the use of one or both legs, and often with the mouths distorted. In this state the general health does not seem to be affected, but if both legs are paralysed, they must soon perish. At a little more advanced age, the consequence of a single washing in cool weather is epileptic fits, which are repeated at shorter intervals till they occasion death. In a state of liberty the bird would dry itself quickly by rubbing against the leaves and by very active motion, in the same manner as the wrens by perpetual activity resist the severest frost, of which the least attack would kill them in confinement ; and probably when birds have opportunities of washing always at hand, they choose the most favourable moments. In a cage it is neces¬ sary to give such birds their water in a very narrow¬ mouthed fountain, to prevent their killing themselves by washing. They will repeat it with equal eagerness, if not prevented, until they die, so strong is the inward impulse. I think the desire of washing belongs most strongly to the birds which migrate to hotter climates in winter, that of dusting to those which remain with us ; a substitution wise as all the dis - CLEANLINESS. 13 pensations of the Creator; for if the little wren in winter were to wash in cold water instead of dusting’, it must perish from the chill The largest birds of prey are no less fond of wash¬ ing, though they care so little for water to drink that it has been erroneously asserted they never drink. “ What I observed,” says the Abbe Spallanzani, “is that eagles when left even for several months without water did not seem to sutler the smallest inconvenience from the want of it; but when they were supplied with water, they not only got into the vessel and sprinkled their feathers like other birds, but repeat¬ edly dipped their beak, then raised their head in the manner of common fowls, and swallowed what they had taken up ; hence it is evident that they drink. For the eagle it was necessary to set the water in a large vessel, otherwise, by its attempts to drink, the vessel was sure to be overturned t-” In books of falconry also directions are given for furnishing the birds with water to bathe. “ Having weaned your hawk,” says Willughby, “ from her ramageness, she being both ways lured, throughly reclaimed, and likewise in good case, offer her some water to bathe herself in, in a basin, wherein she may stand up to the thighs, choosing a temperate, clear day for that purpose. Having lured your hawk and rewarded her with warm meat, in the morning carry her to some bank, and there hold her in the sun till she hath endued her gorge, taking off her hood that she may preen and prick herself: that being done, hood her again and set her near the basin, and taking off her hood, let her bathe as long as she pleases; after this take her up, and let her pick herself as before, and then feed her. If she refuse * Notes to White’s Selborne, Letter 12, edit. 8vo. 1832. + Dissertations, i. 173. C 14 IIABITS OF BIRDS. the basin to bathe in, show her some small river or brook for that purpose, lly this use of bathing she gains strength and a sharp appetite, and thereby grows bold ; but that day wherein she batheth give her no washed meat. If you would make your falcon upwards, the next day after she hath bathed get on horseback, either in the morning or evening, and choose out some field wherein are no rooks or pigeons ; then take your lure well garnished on both sides, and having unhooded your hawk, give her a bit or two on the lure, then hood her ; afterwards go leisurely against the wind, then unhood her, and before she bate or find any check in her eye, whistle her off from your fist fair and softly*.” Did these birds require to oil their feathers after every washing, an immensely larger gland than any of them are furnished with, would be indispensable to supply the requisite quantity; while it would pre¬ vent their feathers from being wetted at all, though this seems to be their aim in the operation, for the purpose, amongst other things, of getting* rid of parasite insects. The head, however, which they cannot reach with their bill, and which cannot there¬ fore be daubed with the oil, is the most liable to be thus infected; and accordingly we often see cage birds content themselves with wetting their heads, without touching the rest of the body. They may also be frequently seen combing or scratching their heads with their claws, no doubt with a similar design. This circumstance has given rise to a curious discussion concerning the intended use of the claws of some species, among which are the night-jar and the herons, that are furnished with small teeth like a saw or comb. * Ornithology, by Ray, p. 402. CLEANLINESS 15 Night-Heron. Wilson remarked that in specimens which he pro¬ cured ot the night-heron ( Nycticorax Europceus, Stephens), t lie middle claws, serrated on the^inside with from thirty-five to forty teeth, contained “parti¬ cles of the down of the bird, showing evidently from Pectinated claw of Night-Heron. c 2 16 HABITS OF BIRDS. this circumstance that they act the part of a comb, to rid the bird of vermin in those parts which it cannot reach with its bill*.’’ With respect to the night-jars Wilson gives a similar statement. His night-hawk, for instance, he says, has its “ middle claw pecti¬ nated on its inner edge, to serve as a comb to clear the bird of vermin j\” Again he says, “ the inner edge of the middle claw of the whip-poor-will, another of the night-jars, is pectinated; and from the circum¬ stance of its being frequently found with small por¬ tions of down adhering to the teeth, is probably em¬ ployed as a comb to rid the plumage of its head of vermin, this being the principal and almost only part so infested in all birds J.” He further proves this in the case of the Carolina night-jar, or chuck- will’s- widow, by actual observation of the fact ; speaking of which species he says, “ reposing much during the heats of the day, they are much infested with Carolina Night-jar or Chuck-will’s- widow. * Wilson, Amer. Ornith. vii. 110, 2d ed. t Ibid. v. 70. J Ibid. v. 77. CLEANLINESS. 17 vermin, particularly about the head, and are provided with a comb on the inner edge of the middle claw, with which they are often employed in ridding them¬ selves of these pests when in a state of captivity*.” White, of Selborne, on the other hand (with whose account Wilson does not seem to have been acquainted), was persuaded that the serratures in the claw of the European night-jar were designed to enable it to secure beetles ( Zantheumia solstitialis , &c.), on which he observed it preying. “ The circumstance/’ he says, “ that pleased me most was, that I saw it distinctly, more than once, put out its short leg when on the wing, and, by a bend of the head, deliver somewhat into its mouth. If it takes any part of its prey with its foot, as I have now the greatest reason to suppose it does these chafers, I no longer wonder at the use of its middle toe, which is curiously fur¬ nished with a serrated claw j\” Mr. Dillon has re¬ cently argued with considerable plausibility against this conjecture of White’s, considering the chief use of the serrated claw to be the combing or dressing the bristles ( Vibrissa ?). For this purpose, he thinks the entire mechanism of the leg, foot, toe, and claw, adapted with wonderful precision; while for the seiz¬ ing of beetles there does not appear the least suit ability. The middle toe, he says, compared with the Night-jar’s foot, showing the pectinated claw. * Wilson, Amer. Ornith. vi. 97, 2d ed. t Letter 47. c 3 18 HABITS OF BIRDS. others, is very long-, and its claw is somewhat flat, slightly curvilineal outwards, and serrated on the concave edge, something like a sickle placed flatwise, with its point outwards, though Bewick’s figure erro¬ neously represents it as bending inwards like the other claws. This form of the claw peculiarly unfits it for an instrument to seize with, while it renders it well adapted for a comb ; and when we consider how the bristles around the gape may become bent or clotted at their points, the necessity of such an instrument will scarcely be disputed. Mr. Dillon adds, “ I think I have seen the bird several times use his foot as I have described : I am almost sure my eyes could not have deceived me*.” In reply to this it has been contended, “ that there is an American group of this family, which have no bristles round the bill, and yet have serrated claws; and another group in Australia having bristles, and yet the claw smooth and simple;” and in reply to Wilson’s account the same writer remarks, that to suppose “ nature has given to one or two families of birds the exclusive power of freeing themselves from an enemy which, in like manner, infests all birds, is preposterous,” adding, that “ the Australian Podargus (the family just referred to as having a smooth middle claw) is so tormented, since some of the empty nits still adhere to the feathers of my spe¬ cimens j\” We may add, that in all the specimens we have examined the claw is bent inwards, as Be¬ wick represents it, and not outwards, upon which cir¬ cumstance chiefly Mr. Dillon founds his opinion Perhaps it might be as well to imitate the modesty of Audubon, who says, “ I wish I could have disco¬ vered the peculiar use of the pectinated claw which * Mag. of Nat. Hist. iii. 33. t Ibid. iv. 276. $ J. R. CLEANLINESS. 19 this bird (chuck-will’s-widow) has on each foot ; but, reader, this remains one of the many desiderata in ornithology, and I fear, with me at least, it will con¬ tinue so*.’’ Yet, while we do not pretend to be able to decide the question, we think Wilson’s account the most plausible. The recorded fact, which he actually observed, cannot surely be overturned by the general remark that it is preposterous to suppose these birds furnished with a peculiar instrument which would be no less useful to all birds. In answer to this, we are entitled, by parity of reasoning, to say that it is equally preposterous, according to the other explanation, to suppose the serrated claw confined to the night-jars, as other birds which feed upon chafers, the kestril ( Falco tinnunculus , Ray f), for example, are not furnished with any thing of the kind. After all, the serratures may be intended for none of these purposes, but for enabling the bird to hold more firmly when it alights Podargus Auritus, * Ornithological Biography, p. 276, f Selby, p. 44. 20 HABITS OF BIRDS. on a branch, in which case it has the peculiarity of sitting lengthwise, and never, like other birds, in a cross position. It would be interesting to learn whether the Australian Podargus , which wants the pectinated claw, perches in this singular manner. The following circumstance, which fell under our observation, appears to show that swallows are not provided with the means of freeing themselves from parasite insects. On going to visit the ruins of Brougham Castle, in Cumberland, we were struck by the unusual tameness of a swallow ( Hirundo rus- tica, Pliny), which we found sitting on the parapet wall of the bridge which crosses the Emont, on the road from Penrith. Swallows are, indeed, far from being generally shy, trusting, perhaps, to their ra¬ pidity of flight, should danger threaten ; but this poor swallow allowed itself to be approached without offering to escape. It seemed, in fact, instinctively courting human aid, at least we were inclined so to interpret its pitiful looks. On taking hold of it, we found the feathers swarming with an insect ( Cra - teriiia hirundinis , Olfers), somewhat larger in size than the common house bug ( Cimex lectularius) . We took the poor bird immediately to the river, and, on being freed from its tormentors, it flew off joyfully to join its companions. Had it been furnished with a comb, like the night-jars, it would not probably have required our assistance *. The main instrument, however, by which birds trim their feathers is the bill ; and if any fluid is used, it must be produced from the salivaryt, and not from the rump-glands. By attending minutely to the operation, indeed, the tongue may be perceived to be as actively employed as the other parts of the bill, * J. R. f Huber, De Lingua Pici viridis, and Architecture of Birds, chap. xv. CLEANLINESS. 21 and is certainly the organ which apprizes the bird of any rumpling or clotting of the plumelets ; and when such derangement is perceived, a pause is instantly made till the part is properly adjusted. We have observed a young green-bird ( Fringilla cliloris) preening its wings as they became dry after wash¬ ing; and we could distinctly perceive the tongue employed both for ascertaining the parts that were rumpled, and for licking them straight when merely passing them through the bill was found to be insuf¬ ficient*. That this, though it may be considered a novel statement, is notwithstanding a correct one, may be corroborated analogically, by referring to the similar manner in which other animals clean themselves. Quadrupeds have no glands similar to those in birds erroneously conjectured to furnish a dressing oil; yet the greater number of quadrupeds have their fur smooth and even glossy, simply from licking it, as our young green-bird was seen to do its feathers. The cattle in our pastures may in this way be seen passing their moist tongues over their hair ; and the elephants in our menageries may be observed using the moist extremity of their proboscis to clean their rough hair¬ less skin. Even among the insects, whose habits and economy are so very different, we have, at least in one curious instance, remarked the process of cleaning performed on the same principle by a mois¬ tened instrument. Our readers may be pleased, by way of illustration, to see the original account of this instrument observed in the grub of the glow-worm (Lampyris noctiluca). “ In an excursion for the purposes of natural his¬ tory to the woods of Dartford, in Kent, the 14th of last March, I found an insect, which I had not * J. R. 22 HABITS OF BIRDS. hitherto met with, creeping upon the mossy trunk of an oak, which, besides, was entwined with honey¬ suckle, and near the bottom a fern plant was rooted among the decaying bark. This insect much resem¬ bled the female glow-worm in external appearance, but it was considerably longer, and the colours were different. Its head, though small, was formed like those of the grubs of predaceous beetles, whence I conjectured it might belong to some of their nume¬ rous families ; but lest I might be deceived in this, and that after all it might be a vegetable feeder, I put some of the oak bark, moss, fern, and honey ¬ suckle, along with it into a collecting box. Into the same box I afterwards put several specimens of small snails, with pellucid shells, which I found in the same locality — a circumstance which led me to the disco¬ very of one of those facts that, after eluding direct research, are often the result of accident. “ It was not till next day that I looked into the box, when I perceived that none of the vegetable substances had been touched, for the snails had glued themselves to the lid, according to their usual custom when put into a dry place ; and though the little stranger was sufficiently lively, and walked about in all directions, nothing within reach appeared to suit its taste. After watching it for some time, my attention was drawn to some very singular move¬ ments which it made with its tail, and which the reader will understand better if he has observed how the common earwig, or the insect popularly called the devil’s coach-horse (Goerius olens, Stephens), bends up its tail over its back, somewhat in the manner of a spaniel when it trips along well pleased before its master. The forked tail of the earwig, however, as well as that of the Goerius, is said to be used in assisting to unfold its long and closely-folded wings, CLEANLINESS. 23 an operation which I have never myself witnessed ; but as the strange insect had evidently no wings, this could not be the design of the movements to which I have alluded. I have more than once seen a female moth strip the down from her body to furnish her eggs with a warm covering, for which purpose she bent in the required direction an instrument like a pair of tweezers, situated at the extremity of the tail; but in the instance in question this could not be the case, as there was no down on the body ; and yet, upon closer inspection, it seemed to be pulling off something very assiduously from the parts upon which the extremity of the tail was turned back. “ There appeared to be something so uncommon in these movements, that my curiosity was excited to observe them more minutely; and as the creature was not at all timid, I could easily observe it through a glass of some power. The caudal instrument I dis¬ covered, by this means, to consist of a double row of white cartilaginous rays, disposed in a circle, one row within the other ; and, what was most singular, these were retractile, in a similar manner to the horns of a snail. The rays were united by a soft moist gela¬ tinous membrane, but so as to be individually exten¬ sile ; one or two being frequently stretched beyond the line of the other. The rays were also capable of being bent as well as extended, and they could there¬ fore be applied to the angles or depressions of an uneven surface. “ It was not long before I convinced myself that this singular instrument was employed by the insect for cleaning itself; and it would have been difficult to devise any thing more effectual for the purpose, though its action was different from all others of this kind with which I was acquainted, inasmuch as it operated by suction, and not as a comb, a brush, or 24 HABITS OF BIRDS. a wiper ; of which I shall mention some examples in. the sequel. It was, moreover, furnished in the inte¬ rior with a sort of pocket, of a funnel shape, formed by the converging’ rays, into which was collected whatever dust or other impurities were detached from the body, till it could hold no more, when, by a ver¬ micular movement of the rays, the accumulated pellet was extended, and placed with great care in some place where it might be out of the way of again soiling the glossy skin of the insect. This skin, if I may call it so, was of a soft leathery appearance, exhibiting, when magnified, a minute delicate cloth¬ ing, similar to shagreen — but to the naked eye this was not apparent. Magnified plan of the Cleaning Instrument, open and closed, “ The instrument just described, accordingly, when expanded over a portion of this shagreened surface, was subsequently drawn out, with an evident effort, (repeated if necessary,) in the same way as boys draw their moist leather suckers when they amuse them¬ selves in dragging stones after them. Every particle of dust or other extraneous matter is thus detached CLEANLINESS. 25 from the skin, and, by a peculiar movement of the retractile rays, is lodged in the funnel-shaped pocket. Larva of the Glow-worm, using its cleaning instrument. “ The actual food of the grub in question (as¬ certained to be snails) shows, in a very striking point of view, the design of Providence in furnishing it with the instrument which I have described, for it cannot well devour one of its victims without being soiled by slime; and accordingly, after every repast, I observed that it went carefully over its head, neck, and sides, with its cleaning instrument to free them from slime*.” We may also mention, in illustration, the pe- * J. Rennie, in the Journal of the Royal Institution for Oct. 1830. D 26 HABITS OF BIRDS. Grub of tbe Glow-worm devouring a Snail. culiar structure of the foot of flies ( Diptera ) con¬ sidered as an instrument for cleaning, particularly as it does not seem to be noticed in books of natural history, though most people may have remarked flies to be ever and anon brushing their feet upon one another to rub olf the dust, and equally assiduous in cleaning their eyes, head, and corselet with their fore legs, while they brush their wings with their hind legs. In the foot of the common blow-fly ( Musca carnaria ) there are two rounded combs, the inner surface of which is covered with down, forming a fine brush ; and some crane flies ( Tipulidee ) have three such combs on each foot, as may be seen in a drawing of them which we have given elsewhere for a different purpose*. * Insect Transformations, p. 391. 27 Chapter II. BIRDS, SOLITARY AND GREGARIOUS, ON ACCOUNT OF FOOD. It is one of the common amusements of the inhabi¬ tants of Aleppo and other eastern places, while pro¬ menading, as their custom is, on the flat roofs ot their houses for the purpose of enjoying* a cool breeze, to scatter grain, or make a motion as if they were scattering grain, when, in a short time, flocks of pigeons and other birds, though previously invisible, will make their appearance at the well-known signal*. In the same way we can attract to a particular point all the fowls in a barn-yard, or the ducks or swans in a pond, who will crowd eagerly to the spot where they expect to obtain food. In the early spring also, when the willows, in defiance of cold days and colder nights, expand their palms, we have seen a numerous assemblage of insects of very different species, — butterflies, bees, wasps, and various Diptera , all crowding around the golden blossoms, attracted, no doubt, by the rich perfume diffused around the vicinity of the tree, and giving goodly token of the honey to be there procured. The causes of the assemblage of species, otherwise so different in habits, in such instances as these, are very obvious and easily explained; but in many other cases of animals congregating' in numbers, the chain which binds them together is more or less hidden. We may mention the case, for example, of a flock of sheep in a meadow huddling themselves so closely * Volney, Voyage dans l’Egypte et la Syrie, vol.ii, D 2 28 HABITS OF BIRDS. together that there is barely room for each to feed. At the moment of writing this, we can see from our study-window seven out of a flock of a score feeding so closely crowded as to have their fleeces in actual contact. And yet the field is by no means small, and other parts of it have grass equal in goodness to the corner where these seven sheep are nibbling it to the very root, while the rest of their companions are only at a few feet distance, in the same quarter of the field. In order to arrive at the cause of this sociality, which seems not only to be without any reason¬ able motive arising from mutual advantage, but to be rather disadvantageous from the pasture being exhausted by the crowd of feeders, we must con¬ sider these sheep as domesticated, and, of course, in different circumstances from the species in their original state of wildness and freedom, in which such sociality may serve some important purpose. The sheep of mountainous countries, where they are in a state of comparative wildness, though un¬ confined by fences, like those in the meadow just alluded to, are observed to keep together in bands, and to pass from one mountain platform to another in regular ranks, one deep, always headed by a leader. The duty of this leader is to give warning of the approach of danger to his troop, both when on a march of removal to a different pasture and also while they are feeding. This fact, which has often been recorded, we have had more than once an opportunity of witnessing in Wales. On as¬ cending Snowdon, for example, our attention was attracted by the deep harsh fcrrovp of a raven sail¬ ing about on the air, looking out, no doubt, for some luckless sheep enfeebled by accident or disease upon which he might pounce. Immediately from the shoulder of the mountain above us the note of SOLITARY AND GREGARIOUS. 29 the raven was answered by the alarm-call of the leader of a small flock of sheep who were feeding on the scanty herbage of this lofty region ; and, at the signal, they quickly drew closer together, and, forming a “ serried phalanx,” eyed their enemy with a bolder bearing than we could have deemed possible in animals proverbial for timidity. The raven was not long in discovering that he had little chance of singling a victim from so watchful and wary a band, and flew off towards the neighbouring cliffs, where he might chance to light upon the carcass of one left undevoured by some fox scared from his prey, or accidentally precipitated, as we have seen happen, from the rocks above. On the departure of their enemy, the sheep began to feed again, but warily at first, raising their heads at in¬ tervals to assure themselves that he was really gone; while, to render assurance doubly sure, their leader again took his station as sentinel for the common weal *. Now we are disposed to conclude, that these two cases of the sheep and the raven may, so far as food is concerned, be taken as the general conditions of the solitary and gregarious habits of birds. One whose food is confined to living prey will prowl alone, because along with associates he might fare scantily ; while those who feed on seeds and other vegetable substances, easily obtained in abundance, congregate that they may feed more safely, by appointing, as the mountain sheep do, a sentinel to warn them of dan¬ ger. The raven, indeed, can hardly be looked upon as subsisting wholly on living prey. It is not furnished by nature with sufficiently formidable wea¬ pons for this purpose ; and almost uniformly when carrion cannot be obtained, it attacks lambs, sickly sheep, or such as have fallen into a ditch or bog, * J. R. d 3 30 HABITS OP BIRDS. perching on the head and pecking out the eyes. In temperate climates, birds that prey on carrion are less necessary as scavengers than in tropical countries, where flocks of vultures collect together from dis¬ tances that have astonished all observers by whom the circumstance is recorded. The gregariousness of these birds, however, may be plausibly referred to the wise care of Providence to have offensive carcasses speedily removed; and it is manifestly with this design, that such birds are endowed with ex¬ tremely acute senses, either of vision or of smell, probably both, so as to enable them to discover carrion afar off. This is well exemplified in two species, which have been frequently confounded, the Turkey buzzard ( Catharista aura , Vieillot) and the black vulture (C. Urubu, Vieillot), both of which are looked upon as so useful that there is a considerable penalty for killing them. The former, indeed, as we learn from M. Descourtilz, is at Charleston commonly called by the name of Five pounds, from the amount of the penalty. “ These birds,” he adds, “ are thus re¬ spected for the actual services which they render in re¬ moving’ from the city and its vicinity all dead animals and other garbage upon which they exclusively feed. Hence, if even a chicken die, it is not long before its bones are picked clean. The vultures are occupied the whole day in making their rounds to discover carrion and offal, and, coming down in legions, they mutually contend for the prey, which instantly disap¬ pears. They are so familiar that they may easily be knocked down with a stick. I had a great desire to procure a specimen in this way; but I was not disposed to pay five louis d’or of penalty*.” “The great number of these birds” (C. Urubu), says Ulloa, “found in such hot climates, is an excellent * Voyages d’un Naluraliste, i. 244. SOLITARY AND GREGARIOUS. 31 Turkey Buzzard and Black Vulture. provision of nature; as otherwise, the putrefaction caused by the constant and excessive heat would render the air insupportable to human life. These birds are familiar in Carthagena ; the tops of the houses are covered with them : it is they who cleanse the city of all its animal impurities. There are few 32 HABITS OP BIRDS. animals killed whereof they do not obtain the offals ; and when this food is wanting, they have recourse to other garbage. Their sense of smelling is so acute, that it enables them to trace carrion at the distance of three or four leagues ; which they do not abandon till there remains nothing but the skeleton*.” The following account of the same bird is in Wilson’s best manner. It is dated Hampstead, near Charles¬ ton, Feb. 21, 1809. “ A horse had dropped down in the street in con¬ vulsions, and dying, it was dragged out to Hamp¬ stead and skinned. The ground for a hundred yards around it was black with carrion crows ; many sat on the tops of sheds, fences, and houses within sight; sixty or eighty on the opposite side of a small run. I counted at one time two hundred and thirty-seven, but I believe there were more, besides several in the air over my head, and at a distance. I ventured cautiously within thirty yards of the carcass, where three or four dogs and twenty or thirty vultures were busily tearing and devouring. Seeing them take no notice I ventured nearer, till I was within ten yards, and sat down on the bank. Still they paid little attention to me. The dogs being some¬ times accidentally flapped with the wings of the vul¬ tures, would growl and snap at them, which would occasion them to spring up for a moment, but they immediately gathered in again. I remarked, the vultures frequently attack each other, fighting with their claws or heels, striking like a cock, with open wings, and fixing their claws in each other’s head. The females, and I believe the males likewise, made a hissing sound, with open mouth, exactly resem¬ bling that produced by thrusting a red-hot poker into water ; and frequently a snuffling, like a dog clearing his nostrils, as, I suppose, they were theirs. * Voyage, Hist, de l’Amer. Merid. i. 52. 4to, Amst., 1752. SOLITARY AND GREGARIOUS. 33 On observing that they did not heed me I stole so close that my feet were within one yard of the horse's legs, and again sat down. They all slid aloof a few feet; but seeing me quiet, they soon re¬ turned as before. As they were often disturbed by the dogs, I ordered the latter home; my voice gave no alarm to the vultures. As soon as the dogs departed, the vultures crowded in such numbers, that I counted at one time thirty-seven on and around the carcass, with several within ; so that scarcely an inch of it was visible. Sometimes one would come out with a large piece of the entrails, which, in a moment, was surrounded by several others, who tore it in fragments, and it soon disappeared. They kept up the hissing occasionally. Some of them, having their whole legs and heads covered with blood, presented a most savage aspect. Still, as the dogs advanced, I would order them away, which seemed to gratify the vultures ; and one would pursue ano¬ ther to within a foot or two of the spot where I was sitting. Sometimes I observed them stretching their necks along the ground, as if to press the food downwards These appear to be the same birds described by Acosta, under the name of Poullazes, which, as he tells us, “ have a surprising agility and a piercing eye, and are very useful for clearing cities, not suf¬ fering the least vestige of carrion or putrid matter to remain. They spend the night upon trees and rocks, and resort to the towns in the morning, perch¬ ing upon the tops of the highest buildings, whence they look out for their plundert-” We shall only add to these accounts that of M. Desmarchais, who strangely supposes the C. aura to be a sort of turkey, that, instead of living upon grain, had become accus¬ tomed to feed on carrion. “ These birds,” he adds, * Amer. Ornith. ix. 107. f Quoted by Button. 34 HABITS OF BIRDS. “ follow the hunters, especially those whose object is only to procure the skins; these people neglect the carcasses, which would rot on the spot, and infect the air, but for the assistance of these birds, which no sooner perceive a flayed body, than they call to each other and pour upon it like vultures, and in an instant devour the flesh, and leave the bones as clear as if they had been scraped with a knife. The Spaniards, who are settled upon the large islands, and upon the continent, as well as the Portuguese, who inhabit those tracts where they traffic in hides, receive great benefit from these birds, by their de¬ vouring the dead bodies and preventing infection ; and therefore they impose a fine upon those who destroy them. This protection has extremely multi¬ plied this disgusting kind of turkey*.” But it may be remarked, that in all the accounts given of these gregarious vultures, nothing is said of their appointing a sentinel like the mountain-sheep, or like several species of birds to which we shall presently attend. For this, however, there is the obvious reason, that the vultures have no formidable enemies, being protected by man to serve his con¬ venience, besides that, like the mole, they seem to be too disgusting to be preyed upon by any animal. The colonists, indeed, have tried every device to render the flesh palatable ; but though they have cut off the rump and extracted the entrails, the instant the birds have been killed they still retain an insupport¬ able odour of carrion which nothing can remove f. This is not all ; for they have also a singular manner of defending themselves if they happen to be attacked. “ A man in the State of Delaware,” says Mr. Ord, “ a few years since, observing some Turkey buzzards regaling themselves upon the carcass of a horse, which was in a highly putrid state, conceived the * Quoted by Button . f Desmarchais, as above. SOLITARY AND GREGARIOUS. 35 design of making a captive of one, to take home for the amusement of his children. He cautiously approached, and, springing upon the unsuspicious group, grasped a fine plump fellow in his arms, and was bearing off his prize in triumph, when, lo ! the indignant vulture disgorged such a torrent of filth in the face of our hero as for ever cured him of his inclination for Turkey buzzards*.” Other gregarious birds, however, may be observed always to have a sentinel stationed near them while feeding, whose office it is to give timely alarm of threatening danger or indications of its approach. When a flock of sparrows, accordingly, alight in the corner of a wheat-field, and, as Bloomfield says, — u Drop one by one upon the bending cornf,” we may always be certain of discovering one, or per¬ haps several, perched on some commanding station in the adjacent hedge-row, prying into the probable design of every movement among men or animals which lies within ken of the watch-tower. The instant the sentinel perceives anything which he deems worthy of notice, he gives his well-known signal, at which the whole flock hurry off from their banquet with the utmost celerity and trepidation. Their fears are, for the most part, only momentary, for as soon as they ascertain that there is no im¬ mediate danger, they hasten back to finish their meal. Sparrows which are denizens of towns and cities act much in the same manner, though they are forced to learn to be, if possible, more quick and cautious than their rural kindred of the farm-yards. The city sparrows, abundant in the very centre of the metro¬ polis, seldom congregate in very numerous flocks, * Amer. Ornith. ix. 98. f Farmer Boy. 36 HABITS OF BIRDS, and are more commonly observed in foraging parties of from two to half-a-dozen, subsisting in the more open streets on what they can find on the pavements, and particularly haunting stables, to pick up oats and grass-seeds shaken from hay. We have watched by the hour the devices of these sparrows to avoid being surprised by boys or by cats. When they discover a scattering of oats, they seldom fly di¬ rectly to the spot, but take several turns around it as it' to ascertain the safest point of approach. If it is near the wall they will cling, with their backs downwards, to rough projections of the mortar, or to an accidental crevice between the bricks, looking round the while with the utmost caution ; and thus will they descend the wall, by little and little, till within a few feet of their wished-for prize, upon which they will pounce down, one or more at a time, and carry off a mouthful to the nearest roof where they can eat it in leisure and safety. But what we par¬ ticularly wish to call attention to is, that though each individual of a party manifests such extraordinary caution, they have usually the farther safeguard of a sentinel stationed on some adjacent projection of a roof-lead or a window, who fails not to announce to his companions below the approach of every pas¬ senger, and particularly of every cat that endeavours to steal upon them unawares*. From all we have been able to observe, there does not seem to be anything like an election or appoint¬ ment of such sentinels. The fact appears rather to be, that, probably from being less impelled by the calls of hunger, the bird of the flock who chances to be the last in venturing to alight, feels then reluctant to join his companions in consequence of an instinctive foresight that they might all be thence exposed to * J. It. SOLITARY AND GREGARIOUS. 37 danger. We only offer this, however, as a plausible conjecture, which appears more applicable to the case of sparrows than to that of some other gregarious birds. Were we disposed, indeed, to indulge in the fancies sometimes found in books of natural history, we might give the sparrows credit not only for ap¬ pointing sentinels, but for trying them for neglect of duty by a regular court-martial. Sparrow-courts, or assemblies of sparrows for some common object regarding one of their com¬ munity, are of frequent occurrence ; and in truth they can scarcely escape the observation of any one who attends to the habits of animals. The birds usually select a spot somewhat remote from their usual haunts, such as the centre of a copse or the edge of a wood, where they may be seen crowding closely around one of this number, and scolding him in all the terms of their vocabulary. Whether they proceed from verbal reproof, however, to corporal chastisement, we have never ascertained, for they are so jealous, on such occasions, of intruders, that they immediately stay process and break up their court, should a prying naturalist venture within the pre¬ cincts. Descriptions precisely analogous have been given by different authors of assemblies of rooks, or crow-courts , as they are called. In the latter, how¬ ever, if we may believe what is reported, there is a regular trial of a delinquent, who, upon being found guiltv, receives a severe drubbing from the whole court, and is even sometimes killed outright*. Pliny reports something similar to this as occur¬ ring among storks. “ There is a place,” he says, “ in the open plains and champaign country of Asia Pithonas-Come, where (by report) they assemble altogether, and, being met, keep up a jangling one with another ; but, in the end, look which of them * Landt, Description of the Feroe Isles. E 38 HABITS OP BIRDS. lagged behind and came tardy, — him they tear in pieces, and then depart*.” It is not improbable, we think, that this legend (for it can be nothing more) of the crow-courts has originated in the quarrels which take place when rooks are building their nests f, in consequence of their propensity to pilfer. In such cases, as Goldsmith records from his own observation, “ thefts never go unpunished ; and probably, upon complaint being made, there is a general punishment inflicted : I have seen,” he adds, “eight or ten rooks come, upon such occasions, and setting upon the new nest of the young couple, all at once tear it in pieces in a mo¬ ment. Such is the severity with which even native rooks are treated ; but if a foreign rook should attempt to make himself a denizen of their society, he would meet with no favour ; the whole grove would at once be up in arms against him and expel him without mercy}:. ” Rooks, if we may judge from our own observation, are more particular even than sparrows in the cir¬ cumstance of having sentinels while they are feeding in parties after the breeding season ; for while pro¬ viding for their young family, they, in general, cater apart. These rook sentinels are so vigilant, that it is by no means easy to get within shot of a foraging party ; and hence it is popularly believed that rooks can smell gunpowder. We have often proved, however, that it is just as difficult to approach them without alarming the sentinels, when only carrying an umbrella as when armed with a fowling-piece ; but that they seem to have some knowledge of fire¬ arms appears from their being alarmed if a walking- stick is levelled at them, though no noise is made, — * Holland’s Plinie, x. 23. f See Architecture of Birds, p. 219. J Animated Nature, iii. 168, SOLITARY AND GREGARIOUS. 39 a knowledge most probably acquired by the reite¬ rated experience of having their nest-trees fired at when the young are fit to be made into pies. It is stated in some accounts of newly-discovered countries, that the birds were not at first frightened by the pre¬ sentment of a fowling-piece, but soon became so after some experience of its effects. We also think it not unlikely that the crows acquire part of the skilful vigilance which they exhibit as sentinels during the building of their nests, when one of a pair usually watches the nest while the other makes excursions to procure materials*. Our observations by no means bear out what is recorded of rooks being so determined to keep their associates together, that “ if a pair offer to build on a separate tree, the nest is plundered and de¬ molished at oncef.” On the contrary, we do not recollect ever observing a rookery without seeing one or more nests on detached trees, sometimes at some little distance from the main establishment. In the rookery at Lee there were, in the summer of 1831, two such nests, each on a detached tree, which, we are certain, were not molested during the season J. The sentinels of gregarious birds were observed by the ancients, and legends told of them no less exaggerated than those of our modern crow-courts. The crane, in this respect, the most celebrated bird among the ancients, was placed, by Aristotle, at the head of gregarious birds § ; and Festus, the grammarian, is of opinion that the words congruous and similar derivatives are from Grues , the Latin name (Grws) of the crane||. “ The cranes,” says Aristotle, * J. R. f Bingley, Anim. Biog. ii. 240. J J. R. § Hist. Anim. viii. 12. j] '2:s are also found with birds that quit them only during the night, or, at least, very late during the day, such as the owls and fal¬ cons. Lastly, this colour is found among birds which lay only one or two eggs, and sit immediately after, like the pigeons, the boobies, and the petrels. As to the bright green or blue colour, it is found to belong to many species which make their nests in hollows, like the starling, the bullfinch, the fly¬ catcher, &c. In the second place, this colour is common to the eggs of birds, the nests of which are constructed with green moss, or placed at least in the midst of grass, but always well concealed, such for example as the tom-tit, linnet, &c. Lastly, green eggs are met with among many strong birds, such as the herons, able to defend themselves against plunderers. A light green colour, verging toward a yellowish tint, is found among the eggs of the many Gallinacea which lay among the grass, without making more than an imperfect nest, which soon dis¬ appears beneath the quantity of eggs ; like the hoopoe, the Perdrix cinereus, the pheasant. The same colour is also remarked among several of the Palmipedes , which quit their eggs when they lay them, but which are attentive in watching them, as the swans, the geese, the ducks, the divers, &c. The m 3 126 HABITS OF BIRDS. eggs of certain great birds which make their nests in the open aiif, but are well able to defend them¬ selves, are a dirty white, as may be observed among the vultures, eagles, storks. Among the eggs of a mixed colour, those are to be distinguished which have a white ground, and those of which the ground differs from white. The eggs with a white ground are those of the European oriole, the long-tailed-tit, the cole-tit, the nut-hatch, the creeper, and the common swallow. Most of the eggs with a white ground are concealed in well-covered nests. The eggs of a mixed colour, and of which the ground is not white, at least a pure white, are .those of the lark, the grass-hopper bird ( Curruca locustella , Egg of the Sky-Lark. Fleming), the yellow-hammer, the wagtail, &c. ; then those of the crows, the jays, the thrushes, the quails, &c., with most of the singing birds, the colour of the interior of whose nest harmonizes with that of the eggs *. Such is the theory; and M. Gloger, after exa¬ mining all the birds of Germany, is said to have proved that the facts universally correspond to it. In conformity with the same notion, Dr. Darwin remarks that the eggs of the hedge-sparrow (Accentor modular is ) are greenish blue, like those of magpies and crows, which are seen from beneath in wicker nests, between the eye and the blue of the firma¬ ment ; but he forgets that the eggs of the song- thrush, which are no less bright blue than those of * Verhand, der Gesellschaft Nat. Freunde, in Berlin. COLOUR OF EGGS. 127 the hedge-sparrow, cannot be seen between the eye and the firmament, for the nest is compactly plas¬ tered. Still less will his doctrine apply to the eggs of the stone-chat ( Saxicola rubicola , Bech- stein), which builds on the ground; and least of all to those of the red-start, which nestles in the hole of a wall or of a tree. Were the notion of these writers, indeed, not so commonly diffused as we have observed it to be in popular compilations, it is so obviously wrong to those who are acquainted with the facts, that it would be wasting time to enter upon its refutation. As it is we shall state a few other objections. “ Rooks,” says Professor Braude, “ build a nest particularly exposed on the highest trees ; the jack¬ daws conceal theirs in holes ; while the lapwing, woodcock, and snipe lay on the bare ground, and yet the colour of the eggs of all these birds is nearly identical. Again, the blackbird and song-thrush are birds of very similar habits ; they build in the same places ; but the blackbird lays a dull rusty-coloured egg, and the thrush a clear blue one, with a few dark, well-defined spots. Egg of the Blackbird . The woodpeckers, it is asserted, lay white eggs ; they ought according to the theory, but their practices seem very different. The hawks, which are so able and accustomed to defend their nests, we should expect to find with pure white eggs, but they are dull- coloured and inconspicuous ; the buzzards, the most 128 HABITS OF BIRDS. cowardly among the tribe, have perhaps the most conspicuous eggs of any. The magpie is a strong bird, its eggs well concealed, and the nest fortified ; but the colour of this egg is dull, like those of the rook, woodcock, &c. Two very similar eggs are those of the redstart and hedge-sparrow : the former builds in holes, the latter does not. The cuckoo very commonly selects the nest of the hedge-sparrow, depositing a spotted brown egg among bright blue ones. After this, if we admit that the brightest white eggs are to be found with birds whose nests are the most concealed, as the king-fisher, wryneck, wren, tit, sparrow, and especially the bank-swallow, may we not rather infer that, the interior of these nests being peculiarly dark, the bright white colour is con¬ venient to the bird to enable her to distinguish one egg from another? At all events, we must regard M Gloger’s hypothesis as ingenious, rather than supported by facts*.” M. Glbger has been unfortunate in his example of the king-fisher ; for though this bird hides her shining white eggs in a hole, yet that will not conceal them from the piercing eyes of her chief enemy the water- rat, which, like all burrowing animals (the mole not excepted), can see with the least possible light. He seems also to have overlooked the obvious fact, that many birds, which lay bright-coloured eggs, make open nests; the song-thrush, for example, whose clear blue eggs, with a few black blotches, are far from being concealed by the plastering of cow- dung upon which they are deposited. A similar remark applies to the stone-chat (Saxicola rubicola, Bechstein). The green-finch (F ring ilia chloris, Temminck) again, which builds an open nest of green moss lined with horse-hair, black or white as it can be had, lays clear white eggs with red spots, * Brande’s Journal for December, 1829, p. 441, note. COLOUR OF EGGS. 129 very little different from those of the wren or the hay- bird ( Sylvia Trochilus ), which build covered nests with a small side entrance ; while the house-sparrow ( Passer domesiicvs, Ray) lays eggs of dull greenish or bluish-white, streaked with greyish-black, and always builds in holes or under cover. As these objections appear to be unanswerable, it will not be necessary for us to follow Dr. Darwin into his fanciful account of the origin of the colours of eggs, which he ascribes to the colour of the objects amongst which the mother-bird chiefly lives, acting upon the shell through the medium of the eye ; for if this were correct, we should have the green-finch and the red-breast, instead of their white eggs, laying blue ones, like the red-start. In the case of the eggs of insects, the colours are sometimes, though not in every instance, occasioned by the colours of the embryo shining through the shell, an example of which we have in the small rhi¬ noceros beetle ( Oryctes nasicornis, Illiger*). In birds, however, this never occurs; and the markings on the eggs seem, so far as we can perceive, to have no connection with the colours and shadings on the feathers. Birds, indeed, of the most varied plumage, such as the peacock and the humming-bird, are produced from white eggs. It is reasonable to con¬ clude, however, that these colours and markings on eggs are intended to serve some particular purpose, though we may not, in the present state of our knowledge, be able with certainty to say what. Without advancing any theory as to the cause of the phenomenon, Mr. Griffiths has deduced some general inferences from the facts in a more cautious way than Darwin and Glbger. “ The eggs,” he remarks, “ of diurnal birds of prey are of a whitish colour, spotted with red, or red spotted with brown. * Insect Transformations, p.36. 130 HABITS OF BIRDS. The eggs which border on a red diminish in tint in proportion as they are laid; so that some of the last is merely a light reddish or whitish, pricked out with clear red. The owls and howlets have white or whitish eggs, without spots. Among the speckled magpies, the eggs, on a white ground, have at the broad end a circle of red, brown, and bluish spots, over which the same colours are sprinkled. Egg of Magpie. “ Birds which nestle in the hollows of trees, of walls, or rocks, have, in general , eggs of a pure white. Such are those of the hoopoe, the pici with black plumage, the torcal, the martin [Au/ig] fisher, the bee- eater. The woodpecker’s eggs have a few red points. Birds which nestle to a certain height in trees, as ravens, crows, pies, &c., have usually green or green¬ ish eggs, spotted or picked with brown. It has been remarked that the white or whitish eggs in swimming- birds are short and rounded, while the yellow or greenish and spotted eggs are very much elongated. The eggs of the grallae [waders] have spots on a grey, yellow, yellowish, green, greenish, bluish, red, or reddish ground. They are rarely spheroid, being mostly elongated, and diminishing very rapidly from the large end. White is the commonest colour of the eggs of the gallinacea ; some, however, have a green , V COLOUR OF EGGS. 131 greenish, or yellowish ground. It is remarkable that the eggs which certain species deposit on green herbs partake more or less of" this colour. The passeres have eggs, the ground of which is white or whitish, blue or bluish, green usually spotted with deep colours, such as red, brown, and black. The tom tit kind, which nestle in the hollows of trees, have eggs altogether white, or white picked with red. The same is the case with the swallows and martins. The larks, pipits, &c. have the eggs of an earthy hue *” * Cuvier’s Animal Kingdom, Aves, i. 138. 132 HABITS OF BIRDS. Chapter VIII. FACTS OBSERVED IN HATCHING. It is indispensable to hatching, that an equable temperature be kept up of about 96° Fahr. or 32° Reaum., for at lower temperatures the living prin¬ ciple appears to become torpid and unable to assimilate the nourishment provided for developing the embryo. Proceeding upon this principle, the Egyptians, as well as those who have tried the experiment in Europe, have succeeded by means of artificial heat in hatching eggs without any aid from the mother birds. One of the most remarkable stories respecting artificial hatching is that arising out of a girlish superstition of the Roman Empress Livia. The tale is told by Pliny: “ She took an egge, and ever carried it about her in her warme bosome ; and if at any time she had occasion to lay it away, she would convey it closely out of her own warme lap into her nurse’s for fear it should chill*.” M. Reau¬ mur mentions some modern instances of a similar kind : “ One lady hatched four goldfinches out of five ec^s from the same nest : one of the e^s having proved a rotten one, she was obliged to keep them warm only for ten days. Another lady,’’ he adds, “ told me a more extraordinary, though by no means an incredible fact of the same kind, assuring me she had seen a female lap-dog sit on eggs quite Holland’s Plinie, x. 55. FACTS OBSERVED IN HATCHING. 133 to the time of the hatching of the chickens, the creature having taken an affection for the eggs, which she was fond of having under her, for some reason not easily assigned, though assuredly not with the desire of hatching chickens*.” Pliny seems to infer that the story of the Empress Livia gave origin to “ the device of late, to lay eggs in some warme place and to make a gentle fire un¬ derneath of small straw or light chaffe, to give a kind of moderate heate ; but evermore the eggs must be turned by man or woman’s hand both night and day, and so at the set time they look for chickens and had thenrf.” But though such experiments may have been then revived, they were assuredly not new, for they are mentioned by Aristotle and Diodorus, though in a rather vague manner. Aristotle says that eggs may be warmed and chickens hatched in the earth, probably deducing such an inference from the circum¬ stance of the eggs of crocodiles and other reptiles being thus hatched. In the same way he appears to have been thinking- of the eggs of snakes which are hatched in dung-hills, when he tells us that in Egypt they cover eggs with dung in order to hatch chickens, — a circumstance quite impossible, as we shall presently see. Diodorus is more par¬ ticular in detailing the process, which consisted, he says, in filling a vessel with the dung of fowls passed through a sieve, over which were laid feathers, and upon these the eggs, with their smallest ends upward ; the eggs were then covered with a similar layer of feathers and dungj. Cardan, in commenting on this passage, says, the dung both below and above ought to be put into pillows §. M. Reaumur, however, assures us that all this must be pure fancy ; for after a whole year’s varied * L’Art de faire Eclorre, chap. i. f Holland’s Plinie, x. 55. J Aldrovandi Ornilhologia, ii. § De Subtilitate. N 134 HABITS OP BIRDS. experiments, repeated incessantly, and with such assiduity as almost to tire out his patience, he was unsuccessful in hatching1 a single chicken by means of dung, though he at length succeeded in doing so by a different method. Success, as Thevenot informs us, also attended an experiment made in Tuscany, but it was under Egyptian direction; for the grand duke, in order to indulge the laudable curiosity long characteristic of the house of Medici, sent to Egypt lor a person skilled in the management of the process. Modern travellers, who mention the art as prac¬ tised in Egypt, are very deficient in their details ; but we ought to wonder the less at this when Father Sicard informs us that it is kept a secret even in Egypt, and is only known to the inhabitants of the village of Berme, and a few adjoining places in the Della, vvho leave it as an heir-loom to their children, forbidding them to impart it to strangers. When the beginning of autumn, the season most favourable for hatching, approaches, the people of this village dis¬ perse themselves over the country, each taking the management of a number of eggs entrusted to his care by those unacquainted with the art. The sub¬ sequent operations consist, first, in the building of suitable ovens ; and, secondly, in causing the eggs placed there to be subjected to a regular heat. The mystery does not, however, lie in the construction of the oven, for the outside is not only open to all, but strangers are even allowed to witness the curious process going on in the interior. The grand secret is the manner of causing the eggs to be warmed that the chickens may be gradually developed, and at last hatched. The most essential condition of this process consists in keeping the eggs at the proper degree of temperature, and consequently in knowing how to manage the fire that heats the oven, FACTS OBSERVED IN HATCHING. 135 Egyptian Egg-oven. According to the best descriptions of the Egyptian mamal , or hatching-oven, it is a brick structure about nine feet high. The middle is formed into a gallery about three feet wide and eight feet high, extending from one end of the building to the other. This gallery forms the entrance to the oven, and com¬ mands its whole extent, facilitating the various ope¬ rations indispensable for keeping the eggs at the proper degree of warmth. On each side of this gallery there is a double row of rooms, every room on the ground-floor having one over it of precisely the same dimensions, namely, three feet in height, four or five in breadth, and twelve or fifteen in length. These have a round hole for an entrance of about a foot and a half in diameter, wide enough for a man to creep through ; and into each are put four or five thousand eggs. The number of rooms in one mamal varies from three to twelve; and the building is adapted, of course, for hatching from forty to eighty thousand eggs, which are not laid on the bare brick floor of the oven, but upon a mat, or bed of flax, or other non-conducting material. 136 HABITS OP BIRDS. Ground- plan of an Egyptian Egg-oven. Iii each of the upper rooms is a fire-place for warming* the lower room, the heat being com¬ municated through a large hole in the centre. The fire-place is a sort of gutter, two inches deep and six wide, on the edge ot the floor, sometimes all round, but tor the most part only on two of its sides. As wood or charcoal would make too quick a fire, they FACTS OBSERVED IN HATCHING. 137 burn the dung of cows or camels, mixed with straw, formed into cakes and dried. The doors which open into the gallery serve for chimneys to let out the smoke, which finally escapes through openings in the arch of the gallery itself. The fire in the gut¬ ters is only kept up, according to some, for an hour in the morning and an hour at night, which they call the dinner and supper of the chickens; while others say it is lighted four times a-day. The dif¬ ference probably depends on the temperature of the weather. When the smoke of the fires has sub¬ sided, the openings into the gallery from the several rooms are carefully stuffed with bundles of coarse tow, by which the heat is more effectually confined than it could be by a wooden door. Transverse section and elevation of an Egyptian Egg-oven. When the fires have been continued for an inde¬ finite number of days, eight, ten, or twelve, according to the weather, they are discontinued, the heat ac¬ quired by the ovens being then sufficient to finish the hatching, which requires in all twenty-one days, the same time as when eg«;s are naturally hatched by a hen. About the middle of this period a number of the eggs in the lower are moved into the upper rooms, in order to give the embryos greater facility in making their exit from the shell, than they would have if a number of eggs were piled up above them. n 3 138 HABITS OF BIRDS. Transverse section and perspective elevation of an Egyptian Egg-oven. The number of ovens dispersed in the several dis¬ tricts of Egypt has been estimated at 3S6; and this number can never be either increased or diminished without the circumstance being known, as it is indis¬ pensable for each mamal to be managed by a Ber- mean, none of whom are permitted to practise their art without a certified licence from the A era of Berme, who receives ten crowns for each licence. If, then, we take into account that six or eight broods are annually hatched in each oven, and that each brood consists of from 40,000 to 80,000, we may conclude that the gross number of chickens which are every year hatched in Egypt amounts to nearly 100,000,000. They lay their account with losing about a third of all the eggs put into the ovens. The Bermean, indeed, guarantees only two-thirds of the eggs with which he is entrusted by the undertaker, so that out of 45,000 eggs he is obliged to return no more than 30,000 chickens. If he succeeds in hatching these the overplus becomes his perquisite, which he adds to the sum of thirty or forty crowns, besides his board, that is paid him for his six months’ work. Proceeding upon the mistaken account of the Egyptian method of hatching, given by Aristotle and Diodorus, M. Reaumur tried a number of ingenious FACTS OBSERVED IN HATCHING. 139 experiments with dung in a state of fermentation, an abstract of which may be interesting, were it only to show the importance of certain circumstances to the success of hatching. It is well known to gardeners that beds of fresh dung become hot a few days after they have been made up ; and that the heat sub¬ sequently increases more and more every day till it becomes considerable enough to give pain to the hand, and consequently much stronger than what ought to be employed in hatching. In fact the dung hot-bed used by M. Reaumur almost dressed the eggs and made them fit for eating, though they were in a pot. The heat in question, however, is by no means steady or uniform in temperature, neither is it ever the same at different depths, or in different parts of the same bed. In order to obviate these diffi¬ culties, this ingenious experimenter conceived the idea of only employing the dung to heat a cavity or oven instead of plunging the eggs into it ; and he began by trying two beds, not so wide as cucumber beds, parted by a narrow path, closed at the ends, and forming an oblong oven or cavity, the air of which was kept warm by the fermentation. The whole was covered in by boards, though not very closely, and the temperature was ascertained by means of thermometers placed in various parts ; and, to shelter it from rain which wrould have injured the eggs, it was placed in a large coach¬ house. “ A few days after it had been constructed,” con¬ tinues the enthusiastic naturalist, “ the thermometer informed me that the heat of the oven was much superior to what I wanted ; but as soon as it was reduced to the degree desired I introduced 200 eggs into the oven, enough for a first experiment, though it was large enough to contain above 1000. The greater part of the eggs in question were ranged 140 HABITS OF BIRDS. upon shelves, the rest were put in baskets, and 1 made myself very certain that they were all kept nearly in the same degree of heat they would have had under a hen. I could hardly let the first twenty- four hours pass without attempting to ascertain the effect produced upon the eggs ; and I broke two, in which I had the pleasure of seeing the little heart, by this time developed, already begin to beat, and the small drop of blood, sufficient to fill it, entering and de¬ parting. This was a sight which a naturalist could not soon be tired of were it to last much longer than its usual time of six or eight minutes. For the next four or five days I had the satisfaction of being able to keep up the uniformity of temperature, and of observing the progress made by the embryos in the eggs, some of which I broke daily to ascertain this. I even began at length to feel regret in breaking them, under the notion that I should lose so many chickens out of my number. “ The eggs of this as well as those of a great many other broods began, at the eighth or tenth day, to disappoint my expectations. Till then I had found in the eggs which I broke the chickens as forward as I could wish ; the scene soon changed, and the odour diffused over the oven informed me that some of the eggs, at least, had begun to be tainted. These, indeed, were easily distinguished from the sound ones, by the tainted matter in some instances having burst through, and, in others, oozed out of the pores of the shell. I had these tainted eggs all carefully taken out ; but as they every day increased in number, I concluded that some accident had occurred fatal to them all ; for though the chicks in some of them were formed, and even leathered, they were all dead. “ As I had succeeded in bringing these chickens through two-thirds of the regular period of hatching FACTS OBSERVED IN HATCHING. 141 as well as they would have grown and been formed if the eggs had been kept all the time under a hen, there appeared to be sufficient hope that, by re¬ doubling my attention, I might afterwards fully succeed. I therefore put some fresh eggs into the same oven, continuing every day to put in the eggs laid by my own hens, taking the precaution to write the date upon each. But I was again disappointed, several of them giving evidence of being tainted as early as the twelfth day. “ Upon resuming my experiments the following November, I caused chicken-ovens to be constructed of different forms, one after another, some in the form of a baker’s oven ; but these not appearing to suit, I reverted to my first plan, and had one con¬ structed in the month of February in a stable large enough to contain six horses. When the temperature had risen to the proper degree, I put in the eggs. The dung of the bed was very moist, and the season being ill suited to dry it, the inside of the oven, when¬ ever the cover was taken off, was seen to be filled with a thick foggy vapour, so very considerable that the eggs were continually bedewed with it as if sprinkled with water. Some of the eggs were laid in open boxes, having sand strewed over the bottom, which was converted by this moist vapour into a sort of mire. But though the eggs in this mire were nearly as moist as if they had been plunged in water, the embryos continued to be developed till the seventh day, beyond which none of them lived. “ The sides of this oven, however, at length be¬ came dry, and no perceptible vapour remained, yet all my trials with it during two months and a half proved equally abortive, though I was daily imagin¬ ing and endeavouring to obviate the causes of the failure. After many such trials, enough to wear out the most enduring patience, I at last clearly perceived 142 HABITS OF BIRDS. Egg-frame. that the chief point to be attended to was to keep the eggs properly warm by the heat of the dung, without being exposed to the vapour exhaled from it, which pervaded the pores of the shell and became fatal to the embroyo. “ With this view I caused one of those casks, called half-hogsheads, to be sunk into the bed of dung, after having had a hole dug large enough for its admission, taking great care to have the edges raised three or four inches above the surface of the hot-bed. The top alone had been previously con¬ verted into a moveable lid by means of cross-bars, and one large and eight smaller holes were made in it and bunged with corks, to serve as regulators of the temperature within. The eggs were let down into the casks in round baskets, about two inches in diame¬ ter less than the cask, some being deep and others shal¬ low, the former containing two and the latter one layer of eggs. I caused three of these baskets to be placed in the oven, which contained about two hundred eggs, in such a manner that the lowest was some inches facts observed in hatching. 143 distant from the bottom, and the highest a few inches lower than the upper edge. When the time had elapsed in which my previous experiments had failed, not one egg in this new oven was tainted, and at the end ot twenty days the gardener, who had taken care of so many unsuccessful broods, came in the evening to tell me, with the greatest possible emotion, what he knew must be very pleasing news, namely, that one of my eggs was chipped, and the chick could be heard within endeavouring to chirp. This chicken did not disappoint our hopes, having been hatched next day, and it was even preceded by some others, and followed by a great many more. From that time, indeed, I began to see some hatched every day*.” Hatching Eggs in dung. The problem with respect to heat generated by fermentation was thus solved ; but M. Reaumur did not stop here. The rector of St. Sulpice, anxious to introduce the plan, applied to the naturalist for instructions on the subject; but, instead of recom¬ mending dung-beds, M. Reaumur imagined he might * L’Art de faire Ecclorre, Mem. ii. 144 HABITS OF BIRDS. take advantage of the heat of the bread-ovens belonging to the extensive benevolent institution called L’ En¬ fant Jesus. After several trials to ascertain the heat of a room which was situated over this bake-house, and such arrangements as were necessary to insure uniformity, it was determined to arrange the eggs on the shelves of a small cupboard placed there, and the care of them was entrusted to the nuns of the establishment. In one of the first experiments made here, the charge of keeping a single box, containing a hundred eggs, was entrusted to a very ingenious nun, who was really enthusiastic in the business. Above half of these eggs proved abortive; but it was worthy of remark, that about twenty were hatched one day sooner than they wrould have been under a hen. When the first of them appeared the nun was transported with joy, and directly ran to tell the newrs to every body she could find. Hatching-room over the bake-house ovens of the Priory of L’Enfant J^sus at Paris. FACTS OBSERVED IN HATCHING. 145 It was an obvious inference from the success of these experiments, that bakers and pastry-cooks might apply their ovens to a similar use by constructing over them hatching chambers, and that in this way the multiplication of chickens might be extended to an immense amount — far exceeding even that of Egypt. It does not appear, however, that these notions have ever been carried into effect, or that anything has been attempted beyond a few experiments of small extent, in any part of Europe. A few years ago an individual in the vicinity of London contrived an apparatus for hatching by means of steam, and exhibited it in the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly; but we have not learned that he ever carried his invention so far as to make a trade of the chickens which he hatched. The importance of keeping the eggs at a uniform temperature is beautifully illustrated by the care which hens may be observed to take in arranging the eggs they are hatching. Amongst other curious facts con¬ nected with this subject, is that of a hen throwing out or eating the eggs which she cannot conveniently cover. A few days ago we had brought to us three eggs of the wood-wren ( Sylvia sibilatrix , Bf.chstein), and being anxious to have them hatched we intro¬ duced them, after warming them slightly, into the nest of a canary, then sitting upon four eggs of her own. In the course of the day two of her own eggs had disappeared, having, we inferred, been de¬ stroyed by her because she could not cover the seven so as to keep them at a uniform temperature, the three small eggs being nearly equal in size to the two which were gone*. It is, no doubt, for the same *J.R. o HABITS OP BIRDS. 146 reason that the birds in whose nests the cuckoo parasitically deposits her egg, often, if not always, turn out or destroy their own to make room for hers. During the process of hatching the mother-bird acts as if she knew that by keeping the eggs all in one position, some would be more favourably treated than others. 147 Chapter IXt EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. It has long been a favourite occupation with philo¬ sophical naturalists, to observe the changes which an egg undergoes in hatching, from the first day that the mother sits upon it till the chick breaks through the prison-walls of the shell and emerges into open day. The chief writers who have attended to the various stages of this curious and interesting pro¬ gress, are Fabricius d’Aquapendente, Harvey, Mal¬ pighi, Maitre-Jean, Reaumur, Ilaller, Scarpa, Mec¬ kel, Blumenbach, Prout, Dutrochet, and SirE. Home. The statements of these different inquirers we shall now compare and condense. An Egg as it appears twelve hours after incubation, with a magnified view of the Embryo Chick. (This and the following cuts, which illustrate the changes in the egg, are copied, by permission, from Sir E, Home’s Comparative Anatomy.) 148 HABITS OP BIRDS. In about twelve hours from the time the mother begins to sit, the commencement of life is percep¬ tible in the germ (ciccitricula) . What seems to be the head of the chick appears joined to the body and swims in the surrounding fluid ; and towards the close of the Jirst day this apparent head is seen bent back by its enlargement. So says Haller ; but Blumenbach thinks this a deceptive appearance, pro¬ duced only by the destined abode of the future chick, no trace of which, he says, is perceptible before the second day, when it assumes an incurvated form resembling a thread of jelly enlarged at the extremi¬ ties, very closely surrounded by fluid, from which it is scarcely distinguishable. The first appearance of red blood is perceptible on the yolk-bag towards the end of the second day, a series of points being ob¬ served which form grooves ; these closing consti- An Egg as it appears sixteen hours after incubation, with a magnified view of the Embryo Chick. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 149 tute vessels, the trunks of which become attached to the chick. Haller says, we can now perceive traces of the back-bone (vertebra), like small glo¬ bules, disposed on the two sides of the middle of the spine, tlie wings and the blood-vessels of the navel, distinguished by their dull colour, also beginning to appear. The neck and breast are unfolded, the head is enlarged, the outlines of the eyes and their three surrounding coats now become perceptible, and the heart is seen pulsating and the blood circulating. An Egg as it appears thirty-six hours after iucubation, with a magnified view of the Embryo Chick. Blumenbach does not mention his having seen the heart before the commencement of the third day, when it resembles a tortuous canal, and consists of three dilatations lying close together and arranged in a triangle, one part of which is properly the right auricle, forming at this period a common auricle, and another is the only ventricle, which afterwards o 3 150 HABITS OF BIRDS. becomes the left ventricle ; the third part ( bulbils aorta) is considerably bulged out. It is remarka¬ ble that the heart at this period projects beyond the breast, and beats in triplets : first, on re¬ ceiving into the auricle the blood from the veins; secondly, on discharging this blood into the arte¬ ries ; and thirdly, on forcing it into the vessels of the navel,* — motions which will continue for twenty-four hours, if the embryo be taken out of the egg. The veins and arteries may now also be seen branching over the surface of the brain, and the spinal marrow beginning to extend along the back ; or rather, as has been beautifully shown by Marcel de Serres*, Tiedemannf* and Cams], the spinal An Egg opened thirty-six hours after incubation, with a magnified view of theEmbryo Chick, in which is shewn the first appearance of the principal blood-vessels. * Du Cerveau, Paris, 1826 ; and Sur le Cervelet, Paris, 1823, f Geschichte des Gehirns des Foetus, 4to. Leipzig. + Comparative Anatomy, by Gore. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 151 marrow itself, becoming1 enlarged, forms the brain. At this period the fluid surrounding the foetus be¬ comes more consistent and less transparent. About the same time also the spine, which was at first ex¬ tended in a straight line, becomes bent, and the joints of the bone ( vertebra ) become distinct. The eyes are distinguished by their black pigment and com¬ paratively large size, as they afterwards are in conse¬ quence of a peculiar slit in the lower part of the iris, a circumstance also observable in the nimble lizard (Lacerta agilis ) and other animals which have no pupillary membrane. On the fourth day the pupil of the eye can be dis¬ tinguished as well as the aqueous and vitreous hu¬ mours. In the head are perceived five vesicles, filled with a fluid; and these as they enlarge approach each other, coalesce, and form the brain, invested with its membranes. The wings also grow, the thighs begin An Egg opened four days after incubation, with a magnified riew of the Chick. 152 H A.BITS OF BIRDS. to appear, and the body extends to one-third of an inch in length. Several other important organs now become visible, as the stomach, the intestines, and the liver. A vascular membrane begins to form about the navel, and grows during the succeeding days so rapidly that it covers almost the whole inner surface of the shell, apparently performing the office of lungs in carrying on the process of respiration. On the fifth day the lungs begin to be formed, but cannot, of course, perform their functions, on account of the circumambient fluid. The vessels of the navel rise out of the abdomen ; the heart is con¬ fined in a very thin membrane that covers the chest; and the muscles appear over the body in the form of an unctuous envelope. An Egg as it appears five days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick. On the sixth day the gall-bladder is first per¬ ceptible, and the first indications of voluntary motion EVOLUTION OP THE CHICK. 153 may be remarked. The spinal marrow, divided into two parts, is extended along the trunk ; the liver, previously whitish, becomes of a darker dusky colour. It is now seven lines* in length. An Egg as it appears six days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick. On the seventh day it is easy to distinguish the bill ; and the skin, with the germs of the feathers, becomes obvious. On the eighth day the brain, the wings, thighs, and legs, have taken nearly their ultimate form ; but, according to Scarpa, are still soft, flexible, and pel¬ lucid f. The two ventricles of the heart also appear like two bubbles, contiguous and joined above to the substance of the auricles; while two successive mo¬ tions are now observed in them, as well as in the auricles, which resemble two separate hearts. * A line is the twelfth part of a French, or rather less than the eleventh of an English inch. t De Penit. Ossium Structura Comment. 4to. Lips. 1799. 154 HABITS OF BIRDS. An Egg as it appears eight days after incubation, with a magnified view of the Chick. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK 155 An Egg as it appears nine days after incubation. The same Egg turned more to its right side, 15G HABITS OF BIRDS. On the ninth day the bones begin to be formed, appearing in the form of hard bony joints, the middle of the thigh and leg-bones, according to Scarpa, becoming yellowish. These form the rudiments of the bony ring of the sclerotic, resembling a circular row of the most delicate pearls. At the same period the marks of the beautiful yellow vessels on the yolk- bag begin to be visible. On the tenth day the muscles of the wings are seen completely formed, and the germs of the feathers appear enlarging. Scarpa up to this period could observe nothing hard, but a yellow wrinkling of beautiful network*. An Egg as it appears ten days after incubation. On the eleventh day the arteries begin to be distinct, those which were previously at a distance from the heart now joining and cohering to it. It * Zool. Journ, ii. 433, EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 157 The Embryo Chick taken from the preceding Egg, with the amnion and vesicle removed. was now that Scarpa first observed the wrinkles in the leg; and thigh-bones to become rough and hard, and red spots to appear. On the twelfth or thirteenth day, if the membrane ( chorion ) enveloping the white of the egg be ex¬ amined by very cautiously opening the shell, it will present, Blumenbach says, without any artificial in¬ jection, one of the most splendid spectacles that o'ccurs in the whole organic creation, — the most simple, yet the most perfect substitute for the lungs. It exhibits a surface covered with countless blood¬ vessels, venous and arterial, branching through its texture. The veins are of a bright scarlet colour, carrying oxygenated blood to the chick ; while the arteries, on the other hand, are of a deep crimson or livid red, bringing the carbonated blood from the body of the embryo. The functions of the two are thus the reverse of those they perform after the chick respires. From the trunks of these arteries being connected with the iliac vessels, and on account of 158 HABITS OF BIRDS The same, Egg a3 the preceding, with the external half of the vesicle removed. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 159 The Embryo of the preceding Egg, opened to show the course of the prin¬ cipal blood-vessels which go to the vesicle and to the areolar membrane. the thinness of their coats, they furnish the best object for demonstrating- the circulation of the blood in a warm-blooded animal. According to Scarpa, the thigh-bones, when dried, now preserve their shape. On the fourteenth day the feathers appear well developed ; and if the embryo be taken out of the egg, it can open its beak for the purpose of breathing. During the remaining part of the process, the yolk becomes gradually thinner and paler by the intermixture of the inner white ; while an immense number of fringe-like vessels, with flaky terminations of a singularly peculiar structure, are formed on the inner surface of the yolk-bag, and hang into the 160 HABITS OF BIRDS An Egg as it appears eighteen days after incubation. The same Egg as the preceding, with part of the vesicle removed, to show the Embryo Chick more clearly. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK, 161 The Embryo Chick opened to show the absorption of the yolk into the body. yolk, evidently for the purpose of absorbing it and conveying it to the veins, where it is assimilated to the blood and applied to the nutrition of the chick. Blumenbach persuaded himself of the actual passage of the yolk from the floating vessels of the inner surface of the bag into the blood-vessels which go to the chicken ; at least, he could distinguish yellow streaks in the red blood contained in the veins*. On the nineteenth day the embryo can utter sounds, and may be heard doing so through the shell. * Zool. Journal, ii. 433, p 3 162 HABITS OF BIRDS. It breaks and escapes from the shell usually oil the twenty-first day, but sometimes as early as the eighteenth, and at other times not till the twenty- seventh. An Egg as it appears twenty days after incubation. The vesicle and amnion are removed, to show the position of the perfest Chick. The exit of the chick from the shell appears to us to be one of the most interesting processes of ani¬ mated nature ever investigated by naturalists. We are indebted to Reaumur for a most minutely ac¬ curate account of this process*; and recently Mr. Yarrel has given a brief detail of his own obser¬ vations upon several species of birds. It is the popular opinion, that the mother-bird breaks the shell of the egg to free the chick from imprisonment, — an opinion which must have originated from the circum- * Oiseaux Domestiques, Mem. vi. EVOLUTION OK THE CHICK, 163 stance, that pieces of the shell are often broken and driven off to some distance, while the membrane within remains unruptnred, which it is supposed could not happen if the fracture were made on the inside by the chick. But it might on the same principle be argued, that a wine-glass covered with parchment could not be broken by the stroke of a hammer with¬ out rupturing the parchment; for the membrane of the egg is elastic and yielding, while the shell is not. That the chicken, however, and not the mother, per¬ forms this office, has been proved by direct observa¬ tions, which may be readily verified. It is worthy of remark, that the fact was correctly stated so long ago as the thirteenth century, by Albertus Magnus, the great naturalist of the dark ages*. It might be supposed that this task was much above the strength of the yet feeble chick, did we not reflect that the anxiety it must feel to escape must add greatly to its energy, which is farther aided both by its peculiar structure, and by the position it as¬ sumes. The bill is still soft, indeed, and to a care¬ less observer would seem ill fitted for breaking; the shell ; but, superadded to the bill, “ upon the curved part of the upper mandible,’ ’ to use the words of Mr. Yarrel, “ just above the point there will be seen a small horny scale, nearly circular, having at its centre a hard and sharp projecting point, and by the particular position of the head, this sharp point is brought into constant contact with the inner surface of the shell.” It is worthy of remark, that the only use of this horny point seems to be to break through the shell, for when the chick escapes, and the beak hardens by exposure to the air, it soon falls off, and on the second or third day, only a light-coloured mark is observable on the spot which it had occupied. It may, indeed, be easily separated by the thumb-nail * Apud Aldrovand, Ornith. iii. 184, ed. Francofurti. 164 HABITS OF BIRDS. when the chick comes forth. In pigeons, and pro¬ bably in other birds which do not run about and feed the instant they are hatched, the bill-scale does not fall off for more than a week. Mr. Yarrel thinks the hardness of the bill-scale may be proportioned to the thickness of the shell, from its being very prominent, hard, and sharp in a preserved chick of the Egyptian goose (A user Gambensis ). The position of the chick in the egg appears no less unfavourable to its breaking through the shell than the softness of the bill ; for it is rolled up almost like a ball, the neck sloping towards the belly, with the head in the middle, and the bill thrust under the right wing, as in birds when asleep. The feet also are bent up under the belly, as chickens and pigeons sometimes are when trussed for the spit, the claws being so bent back that their convex part almost touches the head. The forepart of the chick, as Position of the Chick in the Egg. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 1 Go Position of the Chick in the Egg. Reaumur observed, is towards the biggest end ; and Dr. Prout adds, that it “ is so situated in the egg, as, by its superior weight on one side, to assume such a position that the beak shall be uppermost It is surrounded by a thick strong membrane, which retains it in the attitude just described, and is appa¬ rently unfavourable to its requisite movements. But closer inspection shows that all these circumstances tend to facilitate rather than retard its operations oil the shell, which it must break before it can escape. The bill, indeed, though placed under the wing, as in the case of a sleeping bird, is thrust so far as to project beyond it towards the back, and the head, by moving backwards and forwards alternately, causes the bill to strike upon the shell, the action being partly guided by the wing and the body. It is to be * Phil. Trans, for 1822. 166 HABITS OF BIRDS. remarked, that the head, compared with the bulk of the body, is very heavy; and it makes, together with the neck, a load which the chick, even for several days after its exclusion, can with difficulty support. But in the egg, let the position be what it may, the head is supported either by the body or by the wing, or by both together ; and the greater the size of the head, the more efficient of course are the blows of the bill. The length of the neck causes it to be bent at this time, though after the first fourteen days it becomes nearly straight ; but what seems to be done out of necessity to procure room, is here, as in many other operations of nature, the best thing that possibly could have been done out of choice. By watching at the proper time, Reaumur fre¬ quently heard chicks hammering upon the shell with their beaks ; and in the more advanced stages of the operation he could actually see them at work, through the translucent membrane. The result of the first strokes is a small crack, commonly situated nearer the larger than the smaller end of the egg. When this crack is perceptible, the egg is said to be chipped. The membrane is seldom ruptured in the first in¬ stance, even when the hard part of the shell over it is detached ; but in one instance, while Reaumur was observing the operations of a chick by candle-light, it was hard at work pecking at the membrane divested of its shell. It did not strike, however, but seemed as if endeavouring to wear it out, and make it thin¬ ner by continued friction. The continued blows extend the first cracks, and new pieces of shell are driven off almost all in the same circle, the blows running round nearly the whole circumference of a circle which never cuts the egg obliquely, but always directly across; yet the bill all the while remains under the wing, and always in the same position. In order to accomplish this, EVOLUTION OP THE CHICK. 167 it is indispensable for the chick to turn gradually round, till it has completed an entire revolution ; though this circumstance cannot, in consecpience of the opacity of the shell, be actually observed. The demonstration of the inference, however, is completed by the several places at which the point of the bill appears, whilst the head is kept constantly under the same wing; a position so strictly preserved, that it is persisted in even for some time after the separation of the shell into two portions, leaves the chick a door almost as large as the dimensions of his prison. The revolution which the chick thus makes on his own body is invariably from left to right, and it is pro¬ bably performed by means of the feet ; for the claws, on pressing the shell through the membrane that separates them from it, must find in that shell the resistance necessary to effect the required circular motion. This notion is corroborated by the circum¬ stance of the feet alone enabling the chick to effect its exit ; for the wings and other members, with the exception of the neck and bill, are incapable of any action so long as the chick is in the shell. Reaumur, being curious to ascertain the mode of the circular movement of the chick, was not contented with mere probability, but had recourse to experiment. “ Is it,” he asks, “ contrary to probability that the strokes of the bill upon the shell exert a reaction on the body of the chick sufficient to alter its posi¬ tion, and turn it by little and little round the circle ? A plain experiment seemed to me well adapted to determine this ; founded on the principle, that if the notion was correct, the chick could not turn itself if the bill were so placed as to have nothing solid to press against, a condition easily produced, by taking from the bill that solid support against which it was supposed necessary for it to act, or protracting the 1C8 Habits of birds. fracture towards the right, so that the bill might have nothing to strike against. “ Accordingly, I protracted considerably the small fracture made in two different eggs, taking off pieces both of the shell and the membrane as far as I went, purposely to see what would happen to the chicks. Unfortunately for the theory, the consequence was, that each chick was sooner released from confine¬ ment than if it had had to effect its own exit. I had saved it part of the work, and it very well knew how to change its place, so as to be able to break the remaining part of the shell The fracture may be observed to be broader in some eggs and narrower in others, and even of different breadths in the same egg; while only a few pieces are broken off in some and a great number in others, the latter case exhibiting all the irregularities of a glass bottle broken by the repeated gentle blows of a hammer. The effect required to be produced is, the entire separation of the two portions, first of the hard shell, and then of the membrane, which is torn by repeatedly pecking it with the bill. All chicks do not succeed in producing this result in the same period of time, some being able to perform the task within an hour, others taking two or three hours, while half a day is most usually employed, and some require twenty-four hours. “ I have seen chicks,” says Reaumur, “ continue at work for two days together. Some again work incessantly; others take rest at intervals according to their physical strength. I have observed some, in consequence of their impatience to see the light, begin to break the shell a great deal too soon ; for they ought, before they make their exit, to have within them provision enough to serve for twenty-four hours without taking * Oiseaux Domestiques, Mem, tom, vi. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 169 food, and for this purpose the unconsumed portion of the yolk enters through the navel. The chick, in¬ deed, which conies out of the shell before taking up all the yolk is certain to droop and die a few days after it is hatched. The help which I have occa¬ sionally tried to give to several of them towards their deliverance, has afforded me an opportunity of ob¬ serving those which had begun to break their shells before this was accomplished ; and I have opened many eggs much fractured, in each of which the chick had as yet much of the yolk not absorbed. Besides, some chicks have greater obstacles to over¬ come than others, since all shells are not of an equal thickness nor of an equal consistence; and I think it probable that the same inequality takes place in the lining membrane. The shells of the eggs of birds of various species are of a thickness pro¬ portional to the strength of the chick that is obliged to break through them. The canary-bird would never be able to break the shell it is enclosed in if that were as thick as the egg of a barn-door fowl ; and the latter would crush all the eggs she might attempt to sit upon, if their shells were as thin as those of a canary-bird. The chick of a barn-door fowl, again, would in vain try to break its shell if it were as thick and hard as that of an ostrich ; and even though an ostrich ready to be hatched is perhaps thrice as large as the common chick, it is not easy to conceive how the strokes of its bill can be strong enough to break a shell thicker than a china cup, and whose smoothness and gloss indicate that it is nearly as hard, sufficiently so in¬ deed to form, as I have often seen, a solid drinking- cup. It is the practice in some countries to dip the eggs into warm water at the time they are expected to chip , on the supposition that the shell is thereby rendered more fragile and the labour of the chick 170 HABITS OF BIRDS. lightened. But even boiling water does not render the shell more fragile ; and though the water should soften it, upon drying in the air it would become as hard as at first*.” It is well remarked by Mr. Yarrel, that the shell is rendered more brittle by the process of hatching, during which the egg of the common fowl loses on an average eight grains a day, the moisture being partly evaporated and partly absorbed, and the lining membrane at the same time becoming partially separated!*. Eggs fractured by the included Chick. Though the fracture of the shell usually extends round the whole circumference, yet the chick is sometimes contented with performing only about three-fourths of the task. When this has been done, the bill is not required to complete the separation, which is effected more easily and speedily by push¬ ing with the whole mass of its body, using the feet as a lever. By thus continuing to push the body forwards, a movement which is frequently repeated, the chick gradually raises the upper portion of the shell, and at length tears all the fastenings; and if any part hold out, that becomes a sort of hinge which permits the lid, as we may call it, to be thrown on one * Reaumur, as before . f Zool, Journ. ii, 436. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 171 side. When the upper portion is wholly detached, it is sometimes thrown to a considerable distance; but it often happens also that it is thrown into a very singular position, and is found placed within the other portion, as one cup may be set within another. This circumstance has been observed to arise from the chick, just escaped, having* the upper portion of t lie shell immediately before him, and pushing it back with his feet into the under portion without any necessity or design. “ A young duck¬ ling,” says Reaumur, “ which I observed just as it was striving to separate the two parts of the shell entirely, showed me that it had recourse, in order to this, to methods like those used by chickens and probably by all other birds for the same purpose. The duckling’s shell was at most fractured in two- thirds of its circumference, but the fracture being wide suffered me to see that the bill was under the right wing, while the little creature was lifting at the forepart of the shell on the side where it did not resist, because there all its fastenings were broken, and by these means it forced the shell to break on the side where it was yet entire.” Positions of the Shell after the escape of the Chick. “ When the chick,” Reaumur continues, “ has at length been able to turn up or heave off sufficiently the forepart of the shell to procure itself a door, it 1 72 HABITS OF BIRDS. stretches out its feeble legs, which are yet insufficient to carry it. Being then entirely or almost out of the shell, it draws its head from under the wing where it had hitherto been thrust, stretches out its neck, and directs it forward, but is not strong enough for several minutes to raise it. Upon seeing for the first time a chick in this condition we are led to infer that its strength is exhausted, and that it is ready to expire ; but in most cases it recruits rapidly, all its organs gather strength, and in a very short time it appears quite another creature. After having dragged itself on its legs for a little while, it becomes able to stand on them, to lift up its neck, to bend it in various directions, and finally, to hold up its head. The feathers are at this period only fine down ; and as they are wet with the fluid matter of the egg, the chick appears almost naked. By the multitude of their branches these down feathers look like so many minute shrubs ; yet when those branches are wet and sticking to each other, they take up very little room, but as they dry they become disentangled and sepa¬ rated. The branchlets, plumules, or beards of each feather are at first enclosed in a membranous tube, by which they are pressed and kept close together ; but as soon as this dries it splits asunder, an effect which is also aided by the elastic springs of the beards themselves causing them to recede and spread about. When this is accomplished, each feather extends over a considerable space, and when they all become dry and straight, the chick appears completely clothed in a warm vestment of soft down*.” It would not be according to the usual course of nature unless the greater number of eggs sat upon proved fertile ; but circumstances, many of them un¬ intelligible to us, occur during hatching, which render * Oiseaux Domestiques, as before. EVOLUTION OF THE CHICK. 173 the epfGfs abortive : and there is scarcely an instance of a hatch of eggs that will not afford a greater number of chickens, if a little artificial assistance be afforded. Some of the chicks, for instance, are weak ; while others, though not wanting in strength, still meet with more resistance than they can overcome from the shell or its membrane ; and others again, though sufficiently strong, and enclosed in a shell and mem¬ brane of the usual thickness and consistence, are unable to effect an exit, even when an aperture is made for them, in consequence, it would appear, of some unknown cause depriving them of the power of making the circular revolution on their own bodies, which, remaining in the same position, stick to the shell. In order to understand how a chick may be thus glued to its shell it will be necessary to recollect, that between its body and the lining membrane is the white of the egg, or glairy adhesive fluid, which, by drying, becomes a sort of cement, very apt to cause the feathers to adhere to the membrane with which they are in contact. The chick of an egg which has been subjected in artificial hatching to a temperature too high is in the most danger of such an accident ; though it seldom happens before it has made a pretty large breach in the place first chipt , and has also rent the membrane, after which opera¬ tions it remains a good while at rest. The air intro¬ duced through this rent soon changes into a hard tenacious glue the fluid white next the margin of the aperture, as well as to some distance inward ; so that when the chick is desirous of returning to its task it can only peck at the same place, being held fast from moving its body by the glue. Its attempts pull the feathers, and make it squeak; and from its efforts being more and more painful, the desire to move is aban¬ doned. Under such circumstances the chick, if un- Q 3 174 HABITS OF BIRDS, assisted, must die, and hence it may not be useless to point out the indications by which this state of things may be recognised. Whenever, then, a con¬ siderable fracture of both the shell and the membrane is observed to remain for five or six hours without enlargement, and at the same time the margin of the membrane is perceived to be hard and dry, with per¬ haps some feathers sticking to it, it will be indispen¬ sable to liberate the chick by breaking the shell very gently with a key or some such instrument, and by cutting the membrane with the points of a pair of scissors. The operation, though painful to the chick, does not prove mortal, for it is no sooner freed than it exhibits as much vigour as any other chick of its age. In the case of a chick not having sufficient strength to break through the shell, the indication will be a slight chip appearing and continuing for several hours without either being extended or the membrane rent. Here it will be requisite to lend assistance, as in the former case; and if it come not too late, as soon as the chick is exposed to the air, it will pull out its head, stretch its neck, and endeavour to get out of the shell. Chapter X. SHELTERING OF THE YOUNG. In rearing tender song birds taken from their mo¬ thers, as is frequently done, before they are fledged, experience proves that warmth is no less indispen¬ sable than food; exposure to cold during the night frequently killing the most healthy nestlings. The mother-birds, well aware of this, are equally assi¬ duous in covering their chicks after they are hatched as they had previously been while sitting on the eggs. Among small birds ( Sylvicolce , Vieillot), accord¬ ingly, for several days after her brood has been hatched, the mother seldom quits the nest, the male providing the food necessary for her and the little ones, who as yet require but a very small portion. The wren, and other birds which build domed nests, have this additional protection to prevent the dis¬ sipation of their animal heat; and birds of prey, pigeons, and crows have but a small number of nestlings to shelter. In the case again of poultry, when the newly- hatched birds can run about, the mothers have no little trouble in sheltering them from cold, and, even during the hottest weather, from rain, which proves very injurious in consequence of the cold produced by its evaporation. However much, also, we may ad¬ mire the ingenuity of birds in some things, and their anxious affection for their young, yet they exhibit in other instances great apparent stupidity; and maternal affection, so far from sharpening their faculties, seems at first rather to blind them, and to cause them to 176 HABITS OF BIRDS. injure and even to kill some of their chicken’s through awkwardness or inconsideration. A hen, for example, out of over anxiety to have her chickens near her, will not unfrequently set her foot upon some of them so as to crush or mortally injure them ; and the same accident often happens by her sitting1 over them with her body to keep them warm. Again, in scratching to procure them food, she seems quite heedless where she strikes with her foot; and we have observed in several instances that she kicked the chickens be¬ hind her, and laid them sprawling on the ground. But independently of such accidents as these, no hen, whatever may be her care, can prevent her brood from often passing through sudden changes of tempera¬ ture. She neither can nor ought to sit on them con¬ stantly, as they must eat and run about; and in cold or rainy weather, the damp ground must prove very injurious even when she has them under her warm wings. Hence it is that we frequently see a mother not able to rear above three or four, out of a dozen or more that she may have hatched. It has been recorded that cocks have sometimes performed all these duties of the mother, when she has been accidentally killed, or has abandoned her brood. Aristotle tells us that he witnessed an in¬ stance of this kind*; and Pliny says, “ We have heard that when a brood hen chanced to die, the cocks were seen to go about with the chickens one after another by turns, and to do every thing like to the very hen that hatched them, and all that while to forbear once to crow j\” Albertus Magnus witnessed a similar case; and iElian even mentions a cock which, on the death of the hen while hatching, sat on the eggs and brought up the chicks |. Willughby says, “We have beheld * Hist. Anira. ix. 49. -f- Holland’s Transl. i. 299. Hist. iv. 29. Apud Aldrovandi, ii. 107. SHELTERING OF THE YOUNG. 177 more than once, not without pleasure and admira¬ tion, a capon bringing up a brood of chickens like a hen, clucking of them, feeding them, and brooding them under his wings, with as much care and ten¬ derness as their dams are wont to do*.’’ This leads us to the very curious subject of training capons to perform the office of a mother, which was practised as early as the sixteenth century. In order to train a capon for this purpose we are instructed by Baptista Porta, in his curious book on Natural Magic, to make him so tame that he will take food out of the hand, then about even-tide to pluck the feathers oft* his breast, to irritate the bare skin by rubbing it with nettles, and then to put the chickens to him. They will naturally huddle under him, and by rubbing with their heads allay the itching caused by the nettles ; and upon repeating this for two or three nights, he will gradually take an affection for the chickens and attend to them like a mother. The author thinks it may probably be on the principle of mutual distress producing mutual sympathy, that the querulous chirp of the chickens may make him, while in pain himself, desirous of allaying their misery. A capon, once accustomed to this office, will not abandon it, but, when one brood is grown up, another of newly- hatched chickens may be put to him, and he will be as kind to them and take as much care of them as of the first, and so in suc¬ cession t- The feeling of tenderness for the young broods of other birds, in whatever way it may be supposed to originate, has been exemplified in several very striking instances, both among birds and other animals. “ In the month of May,” says M. de BufFon, “ a young hen-bird was brought to me, which was not * Ray’s Willughby, p. 156. •f Magia Naturalis, iv. 26. 178 HABITS OF BIRDS. able to feed without assistance. I caused her to be educated ; and she was hardly fledged, when I re¬ ceived from another place a nest of three or four unfledged sky-larks. She took a strong liking to these new-comers, which were scarcely younger than herself ; she attended them night and day, cherished them beneath her wings, and fed them with her bill. Nothing could interrupt her tender offices. If the young ones were torn from her, she flew to them as soon as she was liberated, and would not think of effecting her own escape, which she might have done a hundred times. * Her affection grew upon her ; she neglected food and drink ; she now required the same support as her adopted offspring ; and expired at last, consumed with maternal anxiety. None of the young ones survived her. They died one after another; so essential were her cares, which were equally tender and judicious*;’ A more singular instance still is related by Mr. Broderip. “ On the *27th of April, 1820, I saw a cat giving suck to five young rats and a kitten ; the rats were about one-third grown. It was diverting to observe the complacency with which the young creatures sucked in the liberal stream, which the teats of their foster-mother supplied ; and curious to see the prey cherished by the milk of the destroyer. The cat paid the same maternal attentions to the young rats, in licking them and dressing their fur, as she did to her kitten, notwithstanding the great disparity of size. The man, who exhibited this phe¬ nomenon in the Strand, near Essex-street, said, that the cat had kittened fourteen days, and at that time had three kittens at her teats, when he found this nest of young rats, which seemed a few days old, and turned them in at night to the cat for her prey ; in the morning he found the kittens sharing the * Oiseaux, Art. L’Alouette. SHELTERING OF THE YOUNG. 179 milk of their mother with the rats. Two of the kittens were afterwards destroyed, for fear of ex¬ hausting; the cat, by so numerous a family. The man said that the cat was a good mouser ; but ad¬ mitted that he had taught her to abstain from white mice, which he had been in the habit of keeping. “ As the cat had kittens,” Mr. Broderip adds, “ on which to exercise her maternal tenderness, and which must have sucked sufficiently to prevent any thing like bodily inconvenience, it is hard to account for this perversion of instinct. Is it that, at such times, the all-powerful and uncontrollable c~opyij is exercised indiscriminately upon every young living creature which is thrown upon the mercy of the new mother for protection and nourishment, and is capable of enjoying her care ? The cases of the hedge-sparrow or wagtail and the young cuckoo, of young ducks which are hatched by hens, and even substituted for their own broods on their loss or failure, — nay, the very assiduity with which a hen will sit upon a ball or two of whitening, would all seem to point this way*.” The similar account in White’s Selborne, which the preceding is given by Mr. Broderip to illustrate, is too striking to be omitted. “ My friend,” says Wh ite, “ had a little helpless leveret brought to him, which the servants fed with milk in a spoon, and about the same time his cat kittened, and the young were despatched and buried. The hare was soon lost and supposed to be gone the way of most fond¬ lings, to be killed by some dog or cat. However, in about a fortnight, as the master was sitting in his garden in the dusk of the evening, he observed his cat, with tail erect, trotting towards him, and calling with little short inward notes of complacency, such * Zool. Journ. ii. 21. 180 HABITS OF BIRDS. as they use towards their kittens, and something gamboling after, which proved to be the leveret, that the cat had supported with her milk, and continued to support with great affection.” Sir William Jardine adds, “ About two years since at a cotter’s house in Annandale, Dumfries-shire, a litter of pigs by some accident lost their mother ; at the same time, a pointer bitch happening to pup, and the puppies suffering the lot common to most such, their place was supplied by the pigs, which were well and affectionately nursed by their foster parent*.” A similar anecdote has been recorded of a cat suckling puppies j\ It is not improbable that some such incidents as these gave rise to the relations of exposed children being suckled by wild beasts, such as the celebrated Roman story of the twin brothers, Romulus and Remus, alleged to have been suckled by a wolf. The cave of Mars was dressed with mossy greens ; There, by the wolf, was laid the martial twins : Intrepid on her swelling dugs they hung, The foster dam loll’d out her fawning tongue — • They suck’d secure, while bending back her head She lick’d their tender limbsj. To return to the accounts of chickens nursed by cocks. “ I have had repeated opportunities,” says Reaumur, “of convincing myself with my own eyes that capons perform the office of a mother very well. * White’s Selborne, Sir W. Jardine’s edit. p. 231. + See Menageries, i. 215. J Dryden’s Virgil. The original is : - — Viridi foetam Mavortis in antro Procubuisse lupam ; geminos huic ubera circum Ludere pendentes pueros, et lambere matrem Impavidos; illam tereti cervice reflexam Mulcere alternos. — /Eneid, viii. SHELTERING OF TIIE YOUNG. 181 A lady related to me has a vast number of chickens, brought up every year with no other nurses than capons ; and I have seen frequently at her Chateau of Vaujour, near Livry, above two hundred chickens that had only three or four capons for their leaders ; it being one of the advantages of this method, that a capon may be trusted with two or three times as many chickens as a hen can properly manage. Another advantage is, that a capon may be set to nurse at any given time, as he is always ready to undertake the task, and he even seems to become proud of his family in proportion as the number increases; whereas hens will persecute and drive away the chickens which are offered to them after a certain age, and which are of course different in size from those they have themselves hatched. Another advantage consists in saving the hens from the trouble of nursing, as in that case they will either continue longer, or begin much sooner to lay; while the chance will be avoided of any disaster happening to the chickens from being abandoned before they can provide for themselves, by a mother in whom, as often happens, laying is prematurely renewed The education of the capon for the maternal office has been considered a matter of great difficulty. Besides Baptista Porta’s method of stinging the capon with nettles, others advise making him tipsy with wine or brandy when the chickens are put to him, in order, as they profess, to make him fancy himself a hen, when he sees them crowding round him. Reaumur, upon trying this, found that in a number of instances, the capon, instead of attending to the chickens, trod upon and crushed several of them to death, and gave others a drubbing with * Oiseaux Domestiques, Mem. vii. R 182 HABITS OF BIRDS. his beak. Having been convinced that such em¬ pirical practices were useless, he put. three capons under the care of the woman who had the charge of the poultry-yard at the Chateau de Yaujour ; and as she proceeded on a regular and rational plan of tuition, put in force not for a single night or day, but continued for several days in succession, they came out of her school very well instructed in the space of ten or twelve days. Her method was, neither to pluck their feathers, to sting them with nettles, nor to make them drunk. She kept them alone for a day or two in pretty deep and rather narrow buckets dark¬ ened by a covering of boards, taking them out two or three times a day to feed. After making the capon in this manner wearied of solitude, she placed with him for companions two or three chickens somewhat ad¬ vanced in growth, and gave them all their food in common. If he ill used them, they were removed for a day or more, and then others were put to him. By such means, varied as circumstances indicate, the capon will contract a habit of living amicably with two or three chickens, and the number being increased by degrees, he will at last begin to take pride in his flock, so that it may be enlarged to any extent. Upon receiving his liberty in these circumstances, he will sit upon the chicks as a hen does, whenever they require to be protected from cold, and will lead them to places where they may find food, clucking like a hen to call them together when they straggle. He will likewise redouble his clucking when he finds such dainties as a piece of bread or an earthworm, which he will divide into several small portions to share it amongst them all, and will seem delighted to see them eat heartily of what he deprives himself of for their sake. After the few first days of training a capon, during which he may probably injure or kill two or three chickens, SHELTERING OF THE YOUNG. 183 the task becomes easy ; and when once he is taught he will retain the habit to the end of his life, nor ever become tired of the task ; for even when unemployed lor several months during winter, he will take to it again in spring nearly as well as before. Though capons probably make the best nurses, it appears to be equally possible to instruct cocks in the art of nursing. “ I thought,” says Reaumur, “ I had sent to school three capons, but one of them proved to be a cock, though he came home as well instructed as his two companions ¥.” But in the case of artificial hatching by means of ovens, it must frequently be found impossible to pro¬ cure a sufficient number of nurses either of hens or capons ; and in that case, in order to rear the chickens successfully, artificial methods must be continued. Were all the assiduities indeed of the hen required, it would be next to impossible to find an artificial substitute; but as her chief object is to procure food and secure warmth, these with a little attention may be supplied as well or even better by art than by the most assiduous mother. Reaumur, in the course of his interesting experiments, tried several plans for the substitution of what he aptly denomi¬ nates an artificial mother. By bringing the chickens up in a hot-bed, indeed, it will be easy to make them enjoy a perpetual summer, exempt from exposure to rain or cold nights. They may even be advan¬ tageously reared for the first fortnight or three weeks in the oven where they have been hatched, taking them out about five or six times a day for food and water. This, however, is a more troublesome plan than is necessary. Reaumur’s statement of some of the difficulties which he met with is so illustrative of the subject that we shall quote the passage. * Oiseaux Domestiques. 184 HABITS OF BIRDS. “ My apparatus,” he says, “ did not at first seem sufficiently perfect ; for, though the chickens were kept in warm air, they had no equivalent for the gentle pressure of the belly of the mother upon then- backs when she sits over them. Their back is, in fact, necessarily more warmed than the other parts of the body while huddling under their mother’s wings; whereas their belly often rests on the cold moist earth, the reverse of what took place in the apparatus, where their feet were the best warmed. The chickens themselves indicated that they were more in want of having their backs warmed than any other part of their body ; for, after all of them had repaired to the warmest end of the apparatus, instead of squatting as they naturally do when they rest, they remained motionless, standing bolt upright upon their legs, with their backs turned towards the sides or end of the apartment in order to procure the necessary warmth. I therefore judged that they wanted an apparatus that might, by resting on them, determine them to take the same attitude as they naturally assume under the hens, and I contrived an inanimate mother that might supply, in this respect, the want of a living one Artificial Mothers. The artificial mother contrived upon these prin- * Oiseaux Domestiques. SHELTERING OF THE YOUNG. 185 ciples, consists of a box lined with sheep-skin, with the wool on it, the bottom being1 of a square form, and the upper part sloped like a writing-desk. This box is placed at the end of a crib or cage, shut with a grating of willow, net, or wire, and closed above with a hinged lid, the whole being so formed that the chickens can walk round the sides. The slope of the cover permits the chickens to arrange themselves according to their sizes; but as it is their practice, as well as that of all other young birds, to press very closely together, and even to climb upon one another, the small and the weak being thereby in danger of being crushed or smothered, Reaumur constructed his artificial mother open at both ends, or, at most, with only a loose netting hanging over it. Through this the weakest chicken can escape when it feels itself too much squeezed, and then, by going round to the other opening, it may find a less dangerous neighbour¬ hood. The ingenious author even made improvements upon this contrivance, one of which consisted in keep¬ ing the cover sloped so low as to prevent the chickens from climbing on each other, and raising it as they increased in growth. Another was, the dividing the 186 HABITS OF BIRDS. large cribs into two by means of a transverse par¬ tition, so as to separate the chickens of different sizes. “ They soon showed me,” says Reaumur, “ how sensible they were of the advantage of my artificial mother, by their delight in remaining under it and pressing it very close. When they had taken their little meals they jumped and capered about, and when they began to be tired, they repaired to this mother, going so deep into it that they were compelled to squat, so that when the roof was turned up, I per¬ ceived the impression of the backs of several chickens upon the fur-lining. There is, indeed, no natural mother that can be so good for the chickens as the artificial one, and they are not long in discovering this, instinct being a quick and sure director. Chickens, direct from the hatching oven, from twelve to twenty-four hours after their escape from the shell, will begin to pick up and swallow small grains or crumbs of bread; and, after having eaten and walked about a little, they soon find their way to the fleecy lodge, where they can rest and warm themselves, remaining till hunger puts them again in motion. They all betake themselves to the artificial mother at night, and leave it exactly at day-break, or when a lamp is brought into the place, producing an artificial day-break, with which, it is worthy of remark, old hens are not affected but remain immoveable on their roosts*.” A still more elegant and ingenious artificial mother consists of a stove with an apartment round it for the chickens, and a net-work over it, to prevent their escape or their getting too near the stove. This Reaumur found to be an excellent plan for keeping * Oiseaux Domestiques, as before. SHELTERING OF THE YOUNG 187 the chickens in good health, while he took advantage of the same heat to hatch fresh broods by hanging eggs in baskets over the stove. Reaumur’s Stove Hatching-house. These methods of constructing artificial mothers are applicable to all birds that do not require to be fed by putting food into their bills, or do not go into the water, such as partridges, pheasants, turkeys, and peacocks. But for ducklings and goslings, which require water to swim in, provision must be made accordingly; and Reaumur, proceeding on the prin¬ ciple of following nature, constructed, in the crib connected with an artificial mother, a small pond 188 HABITS OF BIRDS. for his water-fowls, with a gentle slope for an ap¬ proach, surrounded with green turf, of which these birds are fonder than young chickens. Artificial Mother for Water-fowls 180 Chapter XI. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. Birds differ essentially from quadrupeds in their mode of providing food for their young’. Among” the latter. Providence has furnished the mother with a supply of food for her offspring within herself till the teeth arrive at sufficient growth for manducation ; and hence even animals of prey do not, for several weeks, bring food to their cubs, but nourish them solely with milk. Birds, on the other hand, have to provide food for their young from the second day after they are hatched. During the first day they have, in general, sufficient nutriment in the last portions of the yolk of the egg, which they have absorbed, as we have already seen, through the umbilical vessels. We may follow John Hunter in dividing animal life into three stages or periods, the first comprehend¬ ing the foetal or embryo state ; the second the period immediately after birth, when the parent must, ill most cases, supply food; and the third dating from the time when the animal begins to act for itself without parental care. The first and third of these stages are perhaps common to all animals ; but some appear to pass immediately from the first to the third stage. The nourishment which is provided in the second stage varies to infinity. In most in¬ sects it is effected by the mother instinctively de¬ positing her egg or cocoon upon or near something* that will form appropriate food for the young when hatched. Most birds again collect food for their 190 HABITS OF BIRDS. young1; though, in the instance of pigeons and some others, there exists a provision very similar to that of milk in quadrupeds. “ I have,” says John Hunter, “ in my inquiries concerning the various modes in which young ani¬ mals are nourished, discovered that all the dove kind are endowed with a similar power. The young pigeon, like the young quadruped, till it is capable of digesting the common food of its kind, is fed with a substance secreted for that purpose by the parent animal; not as in the mammalia, by the female alone, but also by the male, which perhaps furnishes this nutriment in a degree still more abundant. It is a common property of birds, that both male and female are equally employed in hatching and in feed¬ ing their young in the second stage ; but this parti¬ cular mode of nourishment, by means of a sub¬ stance secreted in their own bodies, is peculiar to certain kinds, and is carried on in the crop. “ Besides the dove-kind, I have some reason to suppose parrots to be endowed with the same faculty, as they have the power of throwing up the contents of the crop and feeding one another. I have seen the cock paroquet regularly feed the hen, by first filling his own crop, and then supplying her from his beak. Parrots, macaws, cockatoos, &c., when they are very fond of the person who feeds them, may likewise be observed to have the action of throwing up the food and often do it. The cock pigeon when he caresses the hen, performs the same kind of action as when he feeds his young; but I do not know if at this time he throws up any thing from the crop. “ During incubation, the coats of the crop in the pigeon are gradually enlarged and thickened, like what happens to the udder of females of the class mammalia, in the term of uterine gestation. On FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 191 comparing1 the state of the crop when the bird is not sitting with its appearance during incubation, the difference is very remarkable. In the first case it is thin and membranous ; but by the time the young are about to be hatched, the whole, except what lies on the trachea (wind-pipe) becomes thickened and takes on a glandular appearance, having its internal surface very irregular. It is likewise evidently more vascular than in its former state, that it may convey a quantity of blood sufficient for the secretion of this substance, which is to nourish the young brood for some days after they are hatched. “ Whatever may be the consistence of this sub- A. Crop of a Pigeon when it had no young. (The figures A and B represent the crops turned inside outwards and dis¬ tended with spirits.) B. Crop of a male Pigeon while the female was breeding. a. Inner surface of the upper oesophagus. b. Ditto lower oesophagus, leading from the crop to the gizzard. c. c. Inner surface of the two bags of the crop. The difference consists in the glandular structure on the inner surface of the crop, which is not seen except in the breeding season.^ 192 HABITS OF BIRDS. stance, when just secreted it most probably very soon coagulates into a granulated white curd ; for in such a form, I have always found it in the crop, and if an old pigeon is killed just as the young ones are hatching, the crop will be found as above described, and in its cavity pieces of white curd mixed with some of the common food of the pigeon, such as barley, beans, &c. If we allow either of the parents to feed the young, its crop, when examined, will be discovered to contain the same curdled substance, which passes thence into the stomach, where it is to be digested. “ The young pigeon is fed for some time with this substance only, and about the third day, some of the common food is found mingled with it; and as the pigeon grows older, the proportion of common food is increased; so that by the time it is seven, eight, or nine days old, the secretion of the curd ceases in the old ones, and of course no more will be found in the crop of the young. It is a curious fact, that the parent pigeon has at first the power to throw up this curd without any mixture of common food, although afterwards both are thrown up ac¬ cording to the proportion required for the young ones. I have called this substance curd, not as being literally so, but as resembling that more than any thing 1 know : it may, however, have a greater resemblance to curd, than we are perhaps aware of ; for neither this secretion, nor curd from which the whey has been pressed, seem to contain any sugar, and do not run into the acetous fermentation. The property of coagulating is confined to the substance itself, as it produces no such effect when mixed with milk. This secretion in the pigeon, like all other animal substances, becomes putrid by standing, though not so readily as either blood or meat, it FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 193 resisting1 putrefaction for a considerable time; neither will curd, much pressed, become putrid so soon as either blood or meat We have been more particular in giving these statements of an admirable observer at length, because even in works of high character, most vague and erroneous accounts of the facts are pro¬ mulgated. We are told, for example, by M. Vieillot, that “ the male and female are equally attentive to the young, and both feed them with aliment half digested, like broth ( alimens a demi-digeres comme de la bouillie ) ; but by degrees they give them more solid food ; grain, namely, which they have swal¬ lowed more hastily, and which they disgorge after it is somewhat softened, according to the age of the young pigeons f.” We find the same statement, word for word, in Temminck’s General History of Pigeons X ; Griffiths says “ the parents disgorge the food which they have amassed and placed in reserve in their crop § ;” and Selby says “the young remain in the nest till they are able to flv, and are fed by the parent birds who disgorge into their mouths the food that has undergone a maceration, or semi¬ digestive process in that part of the oesophagus, usually called the crop or craiv ||.” We have not been able to trace the origin of this error in physiology, which seems to be so generally diffused in books of natural history. Colonel Mon¬ tagu appears to be the only original observer who confirms the account given by Hunter. “ The rook,” he says, “ has a small pouch under the tongue, in which it carries food to its young. It is * On the Animal Economy, p. 194. f Diet. l’Histoire Nat. xxvi. 329. + Vol.i. p. 160. $ Cuvier’s Animal Kingdom, Birds, viii. 272. |j Illustrations, p. 287. s 194 HABITS OF BIBBS. probable the use of the craw may be extended further than is generally imagined; for, besides the common preparation of tile food to assist its diges¬ tion in the stomach, there are some species that actually secrete a lacteal substance in the breeding* season, which, mixing with the half-digested food, is ejected to feed and nourish the young. The mam¬ mae from which this milky liquor is produced, are situated on each side of the upper part of the breast, immediately under the craw. In the female turtle¬ dove we have met with these glands tumid with milky secretion, and we believe it common to both sexes of the dove genus. The cormorant or pelican genus possess no craw ; but, to supply its place, they have a loose skin at the base of the under mandibles, capable of great distention, in which they carry fish to their young*.” The latter, there can be no doubt, is the fact with regard to the manner in which the pelican feeds its young; but it was universally believed in former ages that this bird nourished its young with its own blood, — a legend vulgarly credited even in our own times, for M. Larnini says it is a common practice with the people at Barcelona to go every Sunday to the cloisters in the cathedral, where there is a mena¬ gerie kept for pelicans, in the expectation of seeing them distribute their blood to their young j*. This story, it would appear, was also related of the vulture by the Egyptians, who thence made that bird an emblem of maternal tenderness J. It does not appear to be ascertained with whom the fable respecting the pelican originated, but our readers may like to see the statements of some of the early authors. We shall content ourselves with ♦Ornith. Diet. Pref, first edit, f Buffbn, Oiseaux, lx. 5. f Horns Apollo, Hieroglyph. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 195 giving two. Albertus Magnus says, “ The pelican derives its name ( pelle cana ) from the white colour of its feathers. It is said to be indigenous to the banks of the Nile. Two species are described: one the water-pelican, which feeds on fishes; and the other the land-pelican, which preys on serpents and vermin. It is said, also, to be fond of the milk of crocodiles, which is left on the mud of marshes ; on which account, also, the pelican follows the crocodile. Some writers assert, that this bird destroys such of its own young* as offend it, but after lamenting them, for a time, again brings them to life by means of blood drawn from its own breast by a wound. From this wound, and the loss of blood, the bird becomes so weak as to be unable to leave its nest, and the young ones are therefore compelled to pro¬ vide food both for themselves and their dam. And if there should be any of them which, either through inertness or want of filial affection, refuse to procure food for her, as soon as she acquires vigour she drives them away, but permits those who have been attentive to her to follow her wherever she goes.” He adds with great simplicity, “ but these things are rather to be found in history, than proved by philo¬ sophical experience*.” We find the same legend in a passage of the curious old writer Bartholomseus, which Berthlet thus renders : — “ Plinius saith in this manner: The pelican loveth to mocke her children ; for when the children been haught [grown] and begin to wax hoar, they smite the father and the mother in the face, wherefore the mother smiteth them again and fleet h them [drives them away]. And the third day she striketh herself on the side that the blood runneth out, and sheddeth that hot blood upon the bodies of her children. And by virtue of the blood the birds that were before dead quicken again.” * Albertus Magnus, De Animal, lib. 23. 196 HABITS OP BIRDS. The learned author of the ‘ Physic® Curios®,’ however, could not find any such passage as this in Pliny, and we also have searched for it in vain. Bartholomaeus goes on to say that “ Master Jacobus de Vitriaco, in his book on the Wonders of the Eastern World, telleth another cause of the death of the pelican’s birds. He saith, that in Egypt is a bird hight [named] Pelly canus , a bird with great wings and most lean ; for all that he swalloweth passeth forth anon behind : for he hath aright flipper gut. And, therefore, he may not hold meat till it be incorporate. And the serpent hateth kindly [sincerely] this bird. Wherefore when the mother passeth out of the nest to get meat, the serpent climbeth on the tree and stingeth or infecteth the birds. And when the mother cometh again, she maketh sorrow three days for her birds, as it is said. Then (he saith) she smiteth herself in the breast and springeth blood upon them and reareththem fro death to life, and then for greater bleeding the mother waxeth feeble and the birds been compelled to pass out of the nest to get themselves meat. And some of them for kind love feed the mother that is feeble, and some been unkind and care not for the mother, and the mother taketh good heed thereto, and when she cometh to her strength, she nourisheth and loveth those birds that fed her in her need, and put- teth away her other birds as unworthy and unkind, and sutfereth them not to dwell or live with her*.” The origin of the fable is plausibly explained by M. Perranet, who says “ there is nothing in the struc¬ ture of the pelican but enters into the general plan of the organization of birds ; all of them have a craw in which their food is lodged ; in the pelican it lies without and under the bill, instead of being concealed within, and placed at the bottom of the oesophagus. But this exterior craw has not the 5)5 Berthlet, Barthol. de Prop. Rer. fol, Lond. 1498. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 197 digestive heat of that of other birds, and in this bag the pelican carries the fish entire to its young. To disgorge them it presses the pouch against its breast; and this very natural act may have given rise to the fable so generally related, that the pelican opens its breast to nourish its offspring with its blood'*.” The fact of the pelican feeding its young with fish and not with its own blood, was settled by Labat, who made the following experiment, apparently to satisfy himself on the point. “ I took,” he says, “ two young ones, which I fastened to a stake, and I had the pleasure, for some days, of seeing the mother, which fed them, and remained the whole of the day with them, passing the night on a tree above their heads : all the three were orown so familiar, that they allowed me to touch them, and the young ones took very graciously the little fish which I offered them, and which they put first into their pouch. I believe that I should have brought them away, if their dirtiness had not hindered me ; they are filthier than geese or ducks ; and we may say that their life is divided into three acts, seeking food, sleeping, and ejecting every moment heaps of excre¬ ments as large as one’s hand*}-.” It may be remarked that the early translators of the ancient naturalists have confounded the pelican with the spoonbill ( Platalea leucorodia, Linn.), which indeed is the bird called pelican (TreXe/cae) by Aristotle, as he tells us that it devours the large smooth river shells, and when it has partly macerated the contents, brings them up now opened, and then picks out and eats the contents Pliny again, copying Cicero §, says, “ Their manner is to fly at those fowl that use to dive under the water for fish ; * Quoted byBuffon. f Nouv. Voy. aux lies de l’Amerique, viii. 296. X Hist. Animal, ix. 10. § De Nat. Deor. ii. 124; s 3 198 HABITS OF BIRDS. and so long will they peek and bite them by the heads, until they let go their hold of the fish they have gotten, and so they wring it perforce from them. This bird, when his belly is full of shell-fishes, that he hath greedily devoured, and hath by the natural heat of his craw and gorge in some sort concocted them, casteth all up again ; and at leisure picketh out the meat and eateth it again, leaving the shells behind*.” As iElian and Appiant give a similar account of herons, gulls, and other water-fowl, it is probable the observation has been hastily applied to the pelican, whose craw or bag does not seem to possess any digestive power. Even the stork, which has been compared in this respect with ruminating animals, does not appear to possess much, if any, power of digestion in the craw, as has been shown by Pever | and Schelhammer §. The quantities of food brought for their young by the parents of birds which feed upon fish, has at¬ tracted the attention of every naturalist who has ob¬ served their nests. “ So much fish,” says Audubon, “ is at times carried to the nest of the fish-hawk (Pandion Halicetus , Savigny), that a quantity of it falls to the ground, and is left there to putrefy around the foot of the tree || and of the white-headed eagle, he says, the young “ are fed most abundantly while under the care of the parents, which procure for them ample supplies of fish, either accidentally cast ashore, or taken from the fish-hawk, together with rabbits, squirrels, young lambs, pigs, opossums, or racoons^].” The various species of eagles are all recorded to be equally assiduous in supplying extraordinary quail- * Holland, x. 40. t In Aucupio, Phys. Cur. p. 1220. I Ephem. Nat. Cur. ii. 2, 97. § Collect. Acad. Etrang. iv, 109. || Ornith. Biogr. p. 419. *J Ibid. p. 162. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 199 tities of food for their young, frequently carrying off for that purpose animals of considerable size, and even children. The latter circumstance appears to be well authenticated by a variety of independent testimony. Amongst other instances, Sir Robert Sibbald gives the following, which occurred in the Orkneys. “ An eagle seized a child a year old, which its mother had left, wrapped up in some clothes, at a place called Houton-Head, while she went for a few moments to gather sticks for firewood, and carried it a distance of four miles to Hoia; which circumstance being known from the cries of the mother, four men went there in a boat; and, knowing where the nest was, found the child unhurt and untouched*.” This story, which all the compilers attribute to Ray, though he does not even allude to it, seems to have furnished the groundwork of the intensely-affecting tale of ‘ Hannah Lamond’s Bairn t.’ Anderson, also, in his ‘ History of Iceland,’ says, that there have been instances of children, four or five years of age, being carried off* by eagles. It is highly probable, we think, that some incident of this kind gave origin to the classic fable of Gany¬ mede, said by Homer and Ovid \ to have been carried oft* by J upiter, under the form of an eagle, to replace Ilebe as cup-bearer to the Olympian gods. That the story was founded upon some real occurrence, may be inferred from the spot being referred to by Strabo §, and from Ilerodian’s allusion to it, though he says “ Ganymede was torn in pieces by his brother, and disappeared, which gave occasion to the report of Jupiter’s carrying him into heaven |j while Lac- * Prodromus, Nat. Hist. Scotiae, vol. iii. part 2, p. 14. f Blackwood’s Magazine. J Metam, x. § Apud Aldrovand. Ornith. i. 42. || Hist, Vit, Commod. i. 200 HABITS OF BIRDS. tantius, refining upon this notion, thinks the youth was either captured by a legion, whose insignia was an eagle, or carried off in a ship having an eagle carved on the prow*. Cicero justly condemns the morality of the legend, which, however, he gives very inaccurately f from memory. Gesner, on the authority of Fabricius ab Aqua- pendente, says, that some peasants between Meissen and Brisa, in Germany, losing every day some of their cattle, which they sought for in the forests in vain, observed by chance a very large nest, in which were found several skins of calves and sheep. This nest, which is described as being as large as the body of a cart, rested on three oaks. It is very doubtful, however, whether any species of eagle, with all its power of talon and of wing, could carry off an animal so large as a calf, which must be more weighty than itself. Hares, rabbits, and lambs, may indeed be easily managed ; and when larger animals are encountered they may be carried off piecemeal, as is probably done with deer, which. Pennant says, are frequently in Scotland attacked by the erne ( Hcdicetus albicilla, Savigny). It seizes the deer between the horns, and incessantly beating it about the eyes with its wings, soon makes prey of the harassed animal J. Owls, it would appear, are equally provident of prey for their young. Bingley tells us that, on examining a nest of the hawk-owl ( Otus bi'achyoius, Fleming), “ that had in it two young ones, several pieces of rabbits, leverets, and other small animals were found. The hen and one of the young ones were taken away ; the other was left to entice the cock, which was absent when the nest was dis¬ covered. On the following morning there were * De Falsa Religione, i. f Tusc. Quaest. i. | Brit. Zool. vol, i. No. 43. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 201 found in the nest three young rabbits that had been brought to this young one by the cock during the night*.” M. Cronstedt, the mineralogist, “ resided several years at a farm in Sudermania, near a steep moun¬ tain, on the summit of which two eagle-owls had their nest. One day in the month of July, a young owl, having quitted the nest, was seized by some of his servants. This bird, after it was caught, was shut up in a large hen-coop ; and the next morning M. Cronstedt found a young partridge lying dead before the door of the coop. He immediately con¬ cluded that this provision had been brought thither by the parent birds ; which, he supposed, had been making search in the night-time for their lost young one, and had been led to the place of its confine¬ ment by its cry. This proved to have been the case by tlie same mark of attention being repeated for fourteen successive nights. The game which the old ones carried to it consisted principally of young partridges, for the most part newly-killed, but some¬ times a little spoiled. One day a moor-fowl was brought, so fresh that it was still warm under the wings. A putrid lamb was found at another time. M. Cronstedt and his servant watched at a window several nights, that they might observe, if possible, when this supply was deposited. Their plan did not succeed ; but it appeared that the owls, which are very sharp-sighted, had discovered the moment when the window was not watched, as food was found to have been deposited before the coop one night when this had been the case. In the month of August the parents discontinued this attention ; but at that period all birds of prey abandon their offspring to their own exertions. From this instance some idea may be formed of the great quantity of game that * Anim.'Biogr. ii, 210, sixth edit, 202 HABITS OF BIRDS. must be destroyed by a pair of these owls during the time they are employed rearing their young*.” So anxious are the parent birds to provide food for their young, that several of them exhibit, during the breeding season, more omnivorous propensities than at any other. We may indeed occasionally see a chaffinch ( Fringilla spiza), or a green-bird ( F . chloris), catch a fly or a beetle, but never we believe except when seeds are scarce. On the contrary, in feeding their young, insects constitute probably their sole provision, the seeds upon which the old birds live being too indigestible at least for the unfledged young. In the same way some of the larger birds, which are at all times omnivorous, such as the mag¬ pie ( Pica can data, Ray), exhibit more carnivorous propensities than usual. Speaking of the magpie, Mr. Knapp says, “When a hatch is effected, the number of young demand a larger quantity of food than is easily obtained, and whole broods of our ducklings, whenever they stray from the yard, are conveyed to the nestf.” The same delightful writer gives an account of the rearing of a brood of tom-tits, which shows that smaller birds are no less provident with regard to the quantity of food furnished to their young than the eagle or the magpie. “ I was lately,” says he, “ exceedingly pleased in witnessing the maternal care and intelligence of this bird ; for the poor thing had its young ones in the hole of a wall, and the nest had been nearly all drawn out of the crevice by the paw of a cat, and part of its brood devoured. In revisiting its family, the bird discovered a portion of it remaining, though wrapped up and hidden in the tangled moss and feathers of their bed, and it then drew the whole of the nest back into the place from * Cronstedt, quoted by Bingley, ii. 212, 6th edit, t Journal of a Naturalist, p. 183, third edition. 203 FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. whence it had been taken, unrolled and resettled the remaining1 little ones, fed them with the usual atten¬ tions, and finally succeeded in rearing them. The parents of even this reduced family laboured with great perseverance to supply its wants, one or the other of them bringing a grub, caterpillar, or some insect, at intervals of less than a minute, through the day, and probably in the earlier part of the morning more frequently ; but if we allow that they brought food on the whole every minute for fourteen hours, and provided for their own wants also, it will admit of perhaps a thousand grubs a day for the requirements of one, and that a diminished, brood; and give us some comprehension of the infinite number requisite for the summer nutriment of our soft-billed birds, and the great distances gone over by such as have young ones, in their numerous trips from hedge to tree in the hours specified, when they have full broods to support. A climate of moisture and temperature like ours is peculiarly favourable for the production of insect food, which would in some seasons be par¬ ticularly injurious, were we not visited by such num¬ bers of active little friends to consume it*.” From similar observations, Mr. Bradley, in his ‘ Treatise on Husbandry,’ calculated that a pair of sparrows, during the time they have their young to feed, destroy every week about 3360 caterpillars. The basis of this calculation was, that he had ob¬ served the two sparrows carry to their young 40 caterpillars within an hour, and thence making a supposition that they are employed in this manner during twelve hours in the day, he finds the daily consumption to be 480 caterpillars, which, multiplied by 7, the days in a week, gives 3360. We should be disposed, however, to consider this perhaps double the real number, for, in a case so uncertain, the result * Journ. of a Naturalist, p. 171, 3d edit. 204 HABITS OF BIRDS. of one hour cannot be accurately predicated of twelve successive hours, inasmuch as the sparrows could not be certain of meeting with the requisite supply of caterpillars in their immediate vicinity, and if they did one day, they would probably have afterwards to forage at some distance. A more recent observer has with due caution con¬ sidered such calculations too vague, though they are literally copied not only by all the compilers, but by Bonnet and Smellie. “ I have observed,” says Mr. Knapp, “ a pair of starlings for several days in con¬ stant progress before me, having young ones in the hole of a neighbouring poplar tree, and they have been probably this way in action from the opening of the morning — thus persisting in this labour of love for twelve or thirteen hours in the day! The space they pass over in their various transits and returns must be very great, and the calculation vague ; yet from some rude observations, it appears probable that this pair in conjunction do not travel less than fifty miles in the day, visiting and feeding their young about a hundred and forty times, which consisting of five in number, and admitting only one to be fed each time, every bird must receive in this period eight and twenty portions of food or water ! This excessive labour seems entailed upon most of the land birds, except the gallinaceous tribes, and some of the marine birds, which toil with infinite perse¬ verance in fishing for their broods ; but the very pre¬ carious supply of food to be obtained in dry seasons by the terrestrial birds, renders theirs a labour of more unremitting hardship, than that experienced by the piscivorous tribes, the food of which is probably little influenced by season, while our poor land birds find theirs to be nearly annihilated in some cases*.” There cannot be any question of the immense num- * Journ. of a Naturalist, p. 198, 3d edit. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 205 hers of insects required during the breeding season. An instance of this is mentioned by Bingley, with regard to some small American bird, which he calls a creeper (Certhia), but which we suspect to be more probably the house-wren ( AnorthuraMdon ). “From observing,” he says, “ its utility in destroying insects, it has long been a custom, with the inhabitants of many parts of the United States, to fix a small box at the end of a pole, in gardens and about houses, as a place for it to build in. In these boxes the ani¬ mals form their nests and hatch their young ones ; which the parent birds feed with a variety of different insects, particularly those species that are injurious in gardens. A gentleman, who wras at the trouble of watching these birds, observed that the parents generally went from the nest and returned with in¬ sects from forty to sixty times in an hour, and that in one particular hour, they carried food no fewer than seventy-one times. In this business they were en¬ gaged during the greatest part of the day. Allowing twelve hours to be thus occupied, a single pair of these birds would destroy at least 600 insects in the course of one day ; on the supposition that the two birds took only a single insect each time. But it is highly probable that they often took more*.” Looking at the matter in this point of view, the destruction of insectivorous birds has in some cases been considered as productive of serious mischief. One striking instance we distinctly recollect, though we canuot at this moment turn to the book in which it is recorded f. The numbers of the crows or rooks of North America were, iii consequence of state re¬ wards for their destruction, so much diminished, and the increase of insects so great, as to induce the state to announce a counter reward for the protec- * Anim. Biogr. ii. 282, fith edit, t Belknap, Hist, of New Hampshire. T 206 HABITS OF BIRDS. tion of the crows. Such rewards are common in America, and from a document given by Wilson, respecting a proposal made in Delaware “ for banish¬ ing or destroying the crows,” it appears that the money thus expended sometimes amounts to no in¬ considerable sum. The document concludes by say¬ ing, “ The sum of five hundred dollars being thus required, the committee beg leave to address the far¬ mers and others of Newcastle county and elsewhere on the subject*.” From its sometimes eating grain and other seeds, “ the rook,” says Selby, “ has erroneously been viewed in the light of an enemy by most husbandmen ; and in several districts, attempts have been made either to banish it, or to extirpate the breed. But wherever this measure has been carried into effect, the most serious injury to the corn and other crops has inva¬ riably followed, from the unchecked devastations of the grub and caterpillar. As experience is the sure test of utility, a change of conduct has in consequence been partially adopted; and some farmers now find the encouragement of the breed of rooks to be greatly to their interest, in freeing their lands from the grub of the cockchafer ( Melolontha vulgaris), an insect very abundant in many of the southern counties. In Northumberland 1 have witnessed its usefulness in feeding on the larvae of the insect commonly known by the name of Harry Longlegs ( Tipula oleracea ), which is particularly destructive to the roots of grain and young clovers f.” It has on similar grounds been contended, that the great number of birds caught by bird-catchers, particularly in the vicinity of London, has been pro¬ ductive of much injury to gardens and orchards. So serious has this evil appeared to some, that it has * Am. Ornith. iv. 84, note, f Illustrations, p. 73. FEEDING OF T1IE YOUNG. 207 even been proposed to have an act of parliament pro¬ hibiting1 bird-catchers from exercising their art within twenty miles of the metropolis; and also prohibiting wild birds of any kind from being shot or otherwise caught or destroyed within this distance, under certain penalties. It is very clear, however, that such an act could never be carried; and though it might be advantageous to gardens, orchards, and farms, yet the attacks which the same birds make on fruit would probably be an ecpiivalent counterbalance. In the case of swallows, on the other hand, it has been well remarked by an excellent naturalist, that they are to us quite inoffensive, while “the beneficial services they perform for us, by clearing the air of innumerable insects, ought to render them sacred and secure them from our molestation. Without their friendly aid the atmosphere \Ve live in would scarcely be habitable by man : they feed entirely on insects, which, if not kept under by their means, would swarm and torment us like another Egyptian plague. The immense quantity of flies destroyed in a short space of time by one individual bird is scarcely to be credited by those who have not had actual experience of the fact.’’ He goes on to illustrate this from a swift ( Cypselus murarius , Temminck), which was shot. “ It was in the breeding season when the young were hatched ; at which time the parent birds, it is well known, are in the habit of making little excursions into the country to a considerable distance from their breeding places, for the purpose of collect¬ ing flies which they bring home to their infant progeny. On picking up my hapless and ill-gotten prey, I observed a number of flies, some mutilated, others scarcely injured, crawling out of the bird’s mouth ; the throat and pouch seemed absolutely stuffed with them, and an incredible number was at length disgorged. I am sure I speak within compass 208 HABITS OF BIRDS. when I state that there was a mass of flies, just caught by this single swift, larger than when pressed close, could conveniently be contained in the bowl of an ordinary tablespoon The extraordinary affection exhibited by the parent birds for their young is strikingly exemplified in the instances recorded of their risking their own freedom and safety by venturing into houses whither their nestlings have been carried. We once witnessed an instance of this in a pair of goldfinches, who were, however, enticed by hanging the cage containing the nestlings upon their native tree in an orchard, from which it was gradually removed to the outside of a window, and afterwards taken indoors, whither the parent goldfinches followed and assiduously supplied their young with food. No attempt was made to catch the old ones ; yet with all their anxiety to sup¬ ply the young with food, they took care, although the window was left open for them, never to remain in the room during the night, roosting always in an adjacent tree in the orchard f. An interesting story of a similar kind is told by Colonel Montagu respecting the gold-crested wren (Regulus cristatus, Ray). “A pair,” says he, “of these birds, who took pos¬ session of a fir-tree in my garden, ceased their notes as soon as the young were hatched ; and as this beautiful little family caused me much delight and amusement, some observations thereon may not be unacceptable to the curious reader. When first I discovered the nest, I thought it a favourable oppor¬ tunity to become acquainted with some of the manners of this minute species, and to endeavour to discover whether the male ever sung by way of instructing the young ones. Accordingly I took the nest, when the young were about six days old, placed it in a small * Rev. W. T. Bree, Mag. Nat. Hist. iii. 37, t J.R. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 209 basket, and by degrees enticed the old ones to my study window : and after they became familiar with that situation, the basket was placed within the window ; then at the opposite side of the room. It is remarkable that although the female seemed regard¬ less of danger, from her affection to her young, the male never once ventured within the room; and yet would constantly feed them while they remained at the outside of the window : on the contrary, the female would feed them at the table at which I sat, and even w hen I held the nest in my hand, provided I remained motionless. But on moving my head one day, while she was on the edge of the nest, which I held in my* hand, she made a precipitate retreat, mistook the open part of the window, knocked herself against the glass, and laid [lay] breathless on the floor for some time. It is probable the focal dis¬ tance of such minute animals’ eyes is very near, and that large objects are not represented perfect on the retina ; that they do not seem to see such distinctly is certain, unless in motion. However, recovering a little, she made her escape, and in about an hour after I was agreeably surprised by her return ; and she would afterwards frequently feed the young while I held the nest in my hand. The male bird constantly attended the female in her flight to and fro, but never ventured beyond the window-frame ; nor did he latterly ever appear with food in his bill, lie never uttered any note but when the female was out of sight, and then only a small chirp. At first there were ten young in the nest, but probably for want of the male’s assistance in procuring food, two died. The visits of the female were generally repeated in the space of a minute and a half or two minutes, or upon an average thirty-six times in an hour ; and this continued full sixteen hours in a day, which, if equally divided between the eight young ones, each t 3 210 HABITS OF BIRDS. would receive seventy-two feeds in the day; the whole amounting to live hundred and seventy-six. From examination of the food, which by accident now and then dropped into the nest, I judged from those vveighed that each feed was a quarter of a grain upon an average ; so that each young one was sup¬ plied with eighteen grains weight in a day; and as the young ones weighed about seventy-seven grains at the time they began to perch, they consumed nearly their weight of food in four days’ time at that time. This extraordinary consumption seems absolutely re¬ quisite in animals of such rapid growth. The old birds of this species weigh from eighty to ninety grains. I could always perceive by the animation of the young brood when the old one was coming ; probably some low note indicated her approach, and in an instant every mouth was open to receive the insect morsel. But there appeared no regularity in the supply given by the parent bird: sometimes the same was fed two or three times successively ; and I generally observed that the strongest got most, being able to reach far¬ thest, the old one delivering it to the mouth nearest to her*.” It would be easy for us to extend this chapter to a much greater length by similar anecdotes ; but we shall only add one more respecting one of the humming birds ( Trochilida ), mentioned by M. Labat, premising that we have no means of ascertaining the particular species meant. It being found extremely difficult, if not impossible, to breed the young hum¬ ming birds, endeavours have been made to rear them by taking advantage of the natural affection of the parents for their offspring. Our author records an instance of such an experiment: “ I showed,” says he, “ a nest of humming-birds to Father Montdidier, which was placed on a shed near the house. He * Ornith. Diet. Introd. 1st ed, and p. 204, 2nd ed. FEEDING OF THE YOUNG. 211 carried it off with the young, when they were about fifteen or twenty days old, and put them in a cage at his room window, where the cock and hen con¬ tinued to feed them, and grew so tame, that they scarcely ever left the room ; and though not shut in the cage, nor subjected to any restraint, they used to eat and sleep with their brood. I have often seen ail the four sitting upon Father Montdidier’s finger, singing as if they had been perched upon a branch. He fed them with a very fine and almost limpid paste, made with biscuit, Spanish wine, and sugar. They dipped their tongue in it, and when their appetite was satisfied they fluttered and chanted. I never saw any thing more lovely than these four pretty little birds, which flew about the house, and attended the call of their foster-father. He pre¬ served them in this way five or six months, and we hoped soon to see them breed, when Father Mont- didier, having forgotten one night to tie the cage in which they were roosted by a cord, that hung from the ceiling, to keep them from the rats, had the vex¬ ation in the morning to find that they had disap¬ peared; they had been devoured*.” * Nouveau Voyage aux lies de l’Amerique, iv. 14. 212 HABITS OF BIRDS. Chapter XU. TRAINING OF YOUNG BIRDS BY THEIR PARENTS. By far the greater number of the actions of animals appear to be performed without previous instruction, in a manner which being inexplicable in the present state of knowledge, is designated by the terms instinct and instinctive, meaning that the motives to any particular movement or action, as well as the mode of execution, originate in the animal spontaneously, without the series of reasoning, or thinking and determining, which we employ in similar cases. Thus a frog is said to swim instinctively in water; that is, it requires no training, no instruction in the art of swimming, no more than we do in the process of breathing; and the same may be said with regard to the swimming of most other animals, even those least accustomed to water, few being unable to swim except man, who requires training and instruction for that purpose. It is not our design to enter here upon the difficult subject of instinct, farther than to point out a few of the acquired actions of birds, originating either in the express instruction or imi¬ tation of their parents. With respect to the eagle, which is the most cele¬ brated from the remotest antiquity for instructing its young, we are told by Moses, that she “ stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, and taketh them and beareth them on her wings*.’’ Aristotle adds, that the young are not permitted to leave the nest prematurely, and * Deuteronomy, xxxii. 11. TRAINING OF YOUNG BIRDS. 213 if they make the attempt, their parents beat them with their wings and tear them with their claws*. Be this as it may, we are assured that eagles will feed their young for a considerable period, if the latter are disabled from flying by clipping their wings ; and it is recorded that a countryman once obtained a com¬ fortable subsistence for his family out of an eagle’s nest, by clipping the wings of the eaglets and tying them so as to increase their cries, a plan which was found to stimulate the exertions of the old birds in bringing prey to the nest. It was of course neces¬ sary for him to make his visits when the old birds were absent, otherwise he might have been made to pay dearly for his plunder. After instructing their young in flying and hunting, the parent eagles, like other birds of prey, drive them from their territory, though not, we believe, as Aristotle says, from the nest. Bonnet says, “The eagle instructs its young in flying, but does not, like the stork, prolong their education, for it mercilessly drives them away before they are thoroughly taught and forces them to pro¬ vide for their own wants. All the tyrants of the air act in the same manner, yet though this seems cruel and shocking, when we consider their close relation¬ ship, it takes a different aspect when we consider the kind of life led by those voracious birds. Destined to subsist by rapine and carnage, they would soon produce a famine amongst their race did many of them dwell in the same district. For which reason, they hasten to drive away their young at a certain age from their boundaries, and then if a scarcity of provision occur, the male and female put one another to death f.” The poet Thomson, without going quite so far as this, gives a very good account of the circumstance. * Hist. Anim. ix. 32. f Conlempl. de la Nature, vi. note 5. 214 HABITS OF BIRDS. 11 High from the summit of a craggy cliff Hung o’er the deep, such as amazing frowns On utmost Kilda’s shore, whose lonely race Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds. The royal eagle draws his vigorous young, Strong-pounced, and ardent with paternal fire. Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own, He drives them from his fort, the tow’ring seat For ages, of his empire ; which in peace, Unstain’d he holds, while many a league to sea He wings his course and preys in distant isles.” Another bird celebrated for instructing- its young is the stork. When the wings of the young storks begin to grow, they are said to try their strength in fluttering about the nest, though it often happens that, in this exercise, some of them fall and are un¬ able to regain their place. When they first venture to commit themselves to the air, the mother leads them in small circumvolutions about the nest, whither she conducts them back, and about the end of August, the young ones having acquired strength, unite with the old ones for the purpose of migration *. “ When the young storks,’’ says Bonnet, as if speaking from observation, u begin to try their wings, the mother fails not to watch over and conduct them. She ex¬ ercises them by little and little in short flights around the nest, to which she soon conducts them again. She continues her attention for a long- time, and does not abandon them till their education is com¬ pleted t.” We are disposed, however, to look upon much that has been w-ritten respecting parent birds instructing their young as merely fanciful, and whether we are right in this may be readily verified by observing and comparing facts of daily occurrence. In the case of * Buffon, Oiseaux, vol. viii. t Contempl. de la Nature, pi. xi. c. vi. note 5. TRAINING OF YOUNG BIRDS. 215 a brood of ducklings, for example, it might be plausi¬ bly alleged, that their parents taught them to swim, because the mother may be seen swimming before them as their leader, and the little things all paddling after her according to their strength or their agility. But, in order to prove this view to be correct, it would be indispensable to show that the ducklings could not swim till they were instructed by their mother, which clearly appears not to be the case, for a duckling, as soon as it acquires the requisite strength of foot, which occurs a very short time after it is hatched, takes to the water and swims as dexterously as its mother herself can do. Nay, it can not only swim so as merely to keep itself afloat, but it knows, without any instruction, how to proportion the frequency and force of the strokes of either foot so as to carry it to any part of the pond it chooses, as acurately as if it were profoundly acquainted with the mathematical problems of the composition and resolution of forces. No instruction nor imitation of the parent will account for this, inasmuch as ducklings hatched in an oven will take to the water as readily as those tended by a female duck ; and, in the common occurrence of their being hatched under a hen, they will swim away and leave their foster-mother on the bank of the pond in utter despair for their safety. This proves not only that they can swim without instruction, but in op¬ position to the most earnest solicitude of their sole instructress. We have witnessed a similar case, no less in point, in a brood of turkeys hatched by a goose, which their foster-mother, as was natural, was de¬ sirous of leading into the water; but this they re¬ fused as obstinately as ducklings do to quit the water when recalled by a hen*. As to what is alleged about the old birds warning the young ones of danger from their natural enemies, * J. R. 216 HABITS OF BIRDS. or teaching them of what animals to be afraid, the same remarks will apply. We have seen, for ex¬ ample, a young brood of the gallinule ( Gallinula chloropus, Linn.), evidently not above two days old, dive instantaneously, even before the watchful mother seemed to have time to warn them of our approach, and certainly before she followed them under water. The same thing occurs in other parts of nature : thus we have observed a shoal of salmon frv, whose size was less than that of minnows, and whose age we knew could be only a few days, as we had witnessed the deposition of the spawn whence they were hatched, all simul¬ taneously exhibiting alarm, and running under the over-hanging brow of a stream for protection ; yet this could not be the consequence of the instruction of their mother, whom they had never seen, and who was far on her way to the sea, thirty miles off, before they had been hatched*. We think it highly probable that the instances of the eagle and the stork, above quoted, admit of a similar solution into instinctive motives independent of instruction. Even the case of the hen who leads her chickens so assiduously to where they may find food, though it appears to be more like instruction than the instances of the eagle and the stork, is far from being conclusive ; for chickens which are hatched artificially seem to be at no loss in learning to feed, though they have no mother ; and ducks hatched under a hen will take the water in spite of her most anxious warnings. . The swallows and sparrows, which, from building in our houses, are more under common observation than most wild birds, may readily be fancied to be seen instructing their young to fly. The whole family may have got out of the nest and have perched * J. It. TRAINING OF YOUNG BIRDS. 217 on the tiles, on a window-ledge, or on the projecting bricks of a neighbouring chimney, basking them¬ selves in the sunshine, and enjoying the freshness of the summer air, and the parents, in their exuberance of joy at having reared their young ones so far with¬ out accident, may be seen hitting about from one to another, and sometimes making short excursions to the nearest tree as if to survey their young from a different point of view, chuckling all the while with buoyant delight, in tones which many observers would not hesitate to interpret as invitations to the little things to try their wings. We are more in¬ clined, however, to consider the conduct of the parent birds on such occasions as simply expressive of pleasurable feeling; and if an anxious movement or the tremulous tone of fear be heard to intermingle, it may usually, we think, be traced to the attempts made by the young birds to fly, the old ones naturally anticipating the possibility of danger, from the known weakness of wing as well as the inexperience of the young ones, placed as they usually are in such cases, at a considerable height. It appears, indeed, to be the chief recommendation of a nestling place, both for sparrows and swallows, that it should have a good fall, to aid their flight in starting on a journey. “ I have known window-swallows,” says Mr. Couch, “ forsake a situation in which they had long been accustomed to build, only because a low wall had been erected in a situation that interfered with their comfortably taking flight ''.” In other respects it appears to us that the supposed instructions given by the parent birds to the young, in the art of flying-, are exactly parallel with those given by ducks in the art of swimming. We may in all fairness, indeed, ask those who adopt the opinion of Bonnet above quoted, how they suppose young frogs and young ,5< Mag. Nat. Hist, iv. 521. ir 218 HABITS OF BIRDS. fish to learn to swim, or young1 bees and butterflies to learn to fly, since in these cases the parents are either far distant or dead before the young are hatched from the eggs* ? In this manner we should explain such obser¬ vations as the following, which are coloured in con¬ formity with Bonnet’s theory: “The progressive method by which the young swallows are introduced to their proper habits is very curious. They first, but not without some difficulty, emerge from the shaft ; for a day or two they are fed on the chimney top, and then are conducted to the dead leafless bough of some neighbouring tree, where, sitting in a row, they are attended by the parents with great assiduity. In a day or two after this they are strong enough to fly, but they continue still unable to take their own food. They, therefore, play about near the place where the dams are watching for flies; and when a mouthful is collected, at a certain signal, the dam and the nest¬ ling advance, rising towards each other, and meeting at an angle, the young one all the while uttering such a short quick note of gratitude and complacency that a person must have paid very little regard to the wonders of nature who has not remarked this scene t-” On the same principle it is said that the male assists the female stone-curlew ( CEdicncmiLS crepitans , Temminck) “ in conducting the voting, whose edu¬ cation, notwithstanding, appears to be rather slow J.” In the instance, again, of impending danger, or on the approach of an enemy, the parent birds eagerly express their feelings of solicitude, though it is ques¬ tionable, we think, whether the cries they utter are meant or understood by the young as invitations to fly to a place of greater security. We have in this way observed, in the case of a brood of young * J. K. t Bingley, ii. 341, 6th edit. $ Griffith’s Cuvier, v iii. 457. TRAINING OF YOUNG BIRDS. 219 goldfinches ( Carchielis elegants, Stephens), perched on an apple-tree and chirruping in chorus, that, when the watchful parents warned them of our approach, they did not fly towards them for pro¬ tection, but instantly ceased to chirrup, squatting close to the branches where they were sitting. Yet we can imagine, and have seen, cases in which young birds, being in confinement or in danger, have been solicited to shift their quarters with all the varied tones and movements of invitation, which are in fact identical with the tones used in feeding, and, to all appearance, instinctively understood*. It is thus we would explain the following interesting narra¬ tive, which proves that had the author had oppor¬ tunities for observation he might have accomplished something much superior to his very imperfect though well-planned compilation. “ When I was a boy,” says Smellie, “ I carried off a nest of young sparrows, about a mile from my place of residence. After the nest was completely removed, and while I was marching home with them in triumph, I perceived with some degree of asto¬ nishment, both the parents following me at some distance, and observing my motions in perfect silence. A thought then struck me that they might follow me home, and feed the young according to their usual manner. When just entering the door I held up the nest, and made the young ones utter the cry expres¬ sive of the desire of food. I immediately put the nest and the young in the corner of a wire cage, and placed it on the outside of a window. I chose a situation in the room where I could perceive all that should happen without being myself seen. The young animals soon cried for food. In a short time both parents, having their bills filled with small ca¬ terpillars, came to the cage; and after chatting a * J. K. 220 HABITS OF BUDS. little, as we do with a friend through the lattice of a prison, gave a small worm to each. This parental intercourse continued regularly for some time, till the young ones were completely fledged, and had acquired a considerable degree of strength. I then took one of the strongest of them and placed him on the outside of the cage, in order to observe the con¬ duct of the parents after one of their offspring was emancipated. In a few minutes both parents ar¬ rived, loaded, as usual, with food. They no sooner perceived that one of their children had escaped from prison, than they fluttered about and made a thou¬ sand demonstrations of joy, both with their wings and with their voices. These tumultuous expres¬ sions of unexpected happiness at last gave place to a more calm and soothing conversation. By their voices and their movements it was evident that they earnestly entreated him to follow them, and to fly from his present dangerous state. He seemed to be impatient to obey their mandates ; but, by his ges¬ tures and the feeble sounds he uttered, he plainly expressed that he was afraid to try an exertion he had never before attempted. They, however, inces¬ santly repeated their solicitations; by flying alter¬ nately from the cage to a neighbouring chimney-top, they endeavoured to show him how easily the journey was to be accomplished. He, at last, committed himself to the air, and alighted in safety. On his arrival an¬ other scene of clamorous and active joy was exhibited. Next day I repeated the same experiment, by expos¬ ing another of the young ones on the top of the cage. I observed the same conduct with the remainder of the brood, which consisted of four. I need hardly add, that not one either of the parents or children ever afterwards revisited the execrated catje*.” It does not appear to us that, in the instance of * Philosophy of Natural History. TRAINING OF YOUNG BIRDS. 221 carnivorous birds, the bringing1 of live prey to the young, and of inviting them to kill and devour it, is capable of being interpreted as it usually has been as an instance of training them to hunt. We have seen a kitten brought up by hand from the day it could see, and, of course, before the mother had any opportunity of instructing it to mouse, exhibit all the cunning devices of a practised veteran in lying in wait for a mouse, which it succeeded in capturing, though, so far as we were aware, it had never before seen a mouse*; and we have not a doubt, though we never witnessed an instance, that a young hawk would pounce upon the first live bird presented to it, independently of all experience and instruction. But though we look upon this as the correct view of the matter, it may be well to give some of the statements of those who adopt a different opinion. Albertus Magnus tells us, that “ hawks feed their young on the wing, generally for the space of a month, and then abandon them. They instruct them to catch such birds as they carry to the nest, and let go again in their presence. But when the nestlings are able to fly quite well, and to provide for them¬ selves, they drive them away or forsake them f.’’ The priests of Egypt, on that account, when they wanted to represent a person who banished his children, were accustomed to express the idea by the figure of a brooding hawk. The same figure was also understood to signify want. Want, in¬ deed, is said to be the reason of this conduct in the hawk, while the eagle rears only one young one, from pride and not from indigence. Such at least is the account of iElian. But other writers of not less repute think, perhaps with more truth, that this severity on the part of the hawk is occa- *J.R. f Hist. Anim. vii. 9. u 3 HABITS OF BIRDS. ooo dm) A sioned not through the want of food, which would be unworthy of the prince of the hawk tribe, but through the ingratitude of the offspring. St. Basil also remarks, that “ hawks act with cruelty towards their young, and when they are able to fly keep them without food, and, as eagles do, drive them from their nest with their beaks and talons: they teach them, also, to be daring, and excite them to pursue prey, lest, when full grown, their nature should be dulled by sluggishness, and they should seek food rather from habit than a ferocious disposition*.” Cassiodorus coincides with this opinion. “ Hawks,” says he, “ who live on prey, famish their young, expel them from their nest, lest indolence should render them tame and dull, strike them with their wings, if they are unwilling to depart, and, at last, compel them to flight that they may subsist, as their fond parents anticipate t-” ./Elian also relates, that “ in spring, hawks select two out of their whole tribe, and despatch them into Egypt to examine those desert islands, which are adjacent to Africa, and these, after their return, become the leaders of the rest to those places. The Lybians, moreover, observe their peregrination with festal celebration. When they arrive at those islands which the precur¬ sors had considered most proper for their habitation, they pair and incubate, and hunt pigeons and spar¬ rows, redundantly supply their offspring with food, and when they are strong enough to undertake the flight, conduct them into Egypt, as their native set¬ tlement J.” But leaving these antique accounts of mingled truth and fable, we are told by a recent observer, that “ the rook entices the young from the breeding trees as soon as they can flutter to any other. These * In Hexatn. f Epist,i. 31. £ De Atiim. ii. 43. TRAINING OF YOUNG BIRDS. 223 young, for a few evenings after their flight, will return to their parents, and roost where they were bred ; but they soon quit their abode, and remain absent the whole summer months*.” Now we think this is putting the matter in its true light ; for the rooks are here represented under very different circum¬ stances from the swallows and sparrows, whose sup¬ posed training we have above endeavoured to ex¬ plain, their prey not being usually at hand, but in some distant field. To continue therefore to supply their young as they had done while unable to quit the nest would be in many cases impossible, for their immediate vicinity is for the most part exhausted, and the increasing dryness of the season renders it more difficult to obtain worms, slugs, and the grubs of chafers. This is not a mere hypothetical view, but is proved by facts. “ In the hot summer of 1825, many of the young brood of rooks of the season perished for want ; the mornings were without dew, and consequently few or no worms were to be ob¬ tained; and we found them dead under the trees, having expired on their roostings. It was particu¬ larly distressing, for no relief could be given, to hear the constant clamour and importunity of the young for food. The old birds seemed to suffer without complaint ; but the wants of their offspring were ex¬ pressed by the unceasing cry of hunger, and pursuit of their parents for supply, and our fields were scenes of daily restlessness and lament. Yet, amid all this distress, it \vas pleasing to observe the perseverance of the old birds in the endeavour to relieve their famishing families, as many of them remained out searching for food quite in the dusk, and returned to their roosts long after the usual period for re- tiringt.” * Journal of a Naturalist, p. 181. t Journal of a Naturalist, p. 178, 3d edit. 224 HABITS OF BIRDS. Under such circumstances, it is surely not won¬ derful, that the parent birds should endeavour to entice their young’ as soon as they can fly, to take excursions to the particular fields where they expect to find a supply of food ; yet such enticement does not appear to us to constitute training in the proper meaning of the term. 225 Chapter XIII. VOCAL ORGANS OF BIRDS. As the peculiar calls of birds expressive of fear, alarm, invitation, and the like, as well as the songs of many of the smaller species, are amongst the most obvious of their habits, even to those who otherwise pay little attention to their economy, — it will be requisite, before we consider such call-notes, to give some account of their vocal organs, as they have been described by comparative anatomists, of whom Fabricius and Kircher are amongst the ear¬ liest, and Colonel Montagu and Mr. Yarrell the most recent. The views which have been taken by physiologists of the mechanism of the voice in man as well in birds are so different, that it is by no means easy to reconcile them. Galen, the celebrated Greek physi¬ cian, compared this mechanism to a flute, very natu¬ rally supposing it to be altogether of the nature of a wind instrument*; and in modern times M. Dodartt has advocated the same opinion, maintaining that the tones vary according to the expansion or contrac¬ tion of the orifice of the windpipe (Glottis). M. Ferrein and Dr. Young, on the contrary, have compared it to a violin or a harpsichord, the vocal cords formed by the sinews or ligaments constituting the orifice of the windpipe, being supposed to per¬ form the office of strings, upon which the air acts * De Usu Partium. t Mem. Academic, for 1700, p. 244, and 1707, p. 66. 226 HABITS OF BIRDS. like a bow* * * §. In man, when this orifice is brought into its narrowest compass, the opening is dimi¬ nished about one-third of its length, and is then not more than from one-twenty-fourth to one-twelfth of an inch in width, and about half an inch in length, the sides or lips presenting a sharp edge, directed upwards and inwards, which has with considerable propriety been termed the vocal chords. Other physiologists take different views from both Dodartf and Ferrein, and amongst those M. Kratzenstein imagined the opening of the wind¬ pipe to resemble a drum, with the head divided J; and Blumenbach and Summering think it is more analogous to a flute, a pipe, or an Eolian harp — a stringed instrument played upon by the wind§. M. Majendie, again, who has given a very elaborate description of the organs of the voice, refers us to those instruments whose sound is produced by a reed, such as the hautboy and the clarionet ||. We may remark, however, respecting this hypothesis, ingenious as it is, that the various tones of the voice are produced, not by stopping the holes at different distances, as in those reed instruments, but by varying the width of the windpipe at its orifice or out-going, where the principal organs are situated, and also by varying the length of the tube of the windpipe. Another well-known physiologist, M. Richerand^f, questions the fact of the voice being similar to a reed instrument, and goes into a learned argument * Mem. Acad, pour 1741, pp. 409 — 22 ; and Haller, Element. Physiologiae, ix. 31, 17 j aiui Young, sect. i. 400; and Phil. Trans, for 1800, 141—2. f Mein, de l’Acad. ponr 1700. J Tentamen Sonorum Vocalium, 4to. 1781. § Blumenbach, Instit. Physiol, by Dr. Elliotson, ‘x. 87, and Sommering, Comp. Human. Fabric, vi. 93. || Pnysiologie, i. 2078. Physiology, by de Ly 5. VOCAL ORGANS. 227 to prove that it is both a wind and a stringed instrument at the same time. The voice, he remarks, becomes stronger, fuller, and passes from the acute to the grave, as the orifice of the windpipe enlarges with the progress of age ; and it remains always weaker and sharper in women, who have the orifice nearly a third smaller than men. The tension or re¬ laxation, however, of the vocal chords may perhaps enable them to execute in a given time vibrations more or less rapid, in such a manner that if the air, expelled from the lungs in breathing, strike upon them in a state of tension, produced by the action of the muscles, the voice will be shrill, clear, and piercing; whereas it would be grave, if the vocal chords were relaxed. M. Ferrein’s comparison of the voice to a violin has been objected to from the consideration, that in order to perform the office of vibrating strings, the vocal chords ought to be dry, tense, and insulated, the three-fold condition required for the production of sound in stringed instruments. But notwithstand¬ ing the incompleteness of their resemblance to strings, the vocal chords, like the vibrating bodies, serving as mouth-pieces to wind instruments, such as the reed and oboe, the mouth-hole of flutes, and the lips themselves in the horn, do not the less contribute to the formation and varied inflexions of vocal sound. So far as we are able to judge, the organ in question ( larynx ) represents a reeded wind-instru¬ ment with a double plate, the tones of which are more acute as the plates are shortened, and more grave the longer they become. Although this ana¬ logy, however, is generally correct, it does not neces¬ sarily follow that it is in every part complete. The common reeds of instruments, in fact, are composed of rectangular plates fixed on one side, and free on the other three. In the vocal organ, on the other 228 HABITS OF BIRDS. hand, the chords or reeds are indeed rectangular, but they are fixed by three sides instead of one. In the common reeded instrument, again, we raise or lower the notes by varying its length ; while, in the plates of the vocal reeds, it is the size which is varied. In musical instruments, besides, we cannot employ nor procure reeds, the plates of which can every instant alter their thickness and elasticity as happens in the vocal chords. It can easily be con¬ ceived, then, from these circumstances, that the vocal chords may produce and vary the tones of the voice somewhat after the manner of reeded instruments, though we cannot make out the analogy in every particular. M. Majendie partly proved these views by actual observation ; and, in the instance of dogs, he found that, when the sound uttered was grave, the vocal chords vibrated through their whole length, and the expired air passed through the whole extent of the orifice {glottis). When the sounds were acute, on the other hand, the vocal chords did not vibrate in the front, but only in the back part; and, as the orifice was of course diminished, the air only passed through the vibrating portion. When the sounds, again, became very acute, the vocal chords no longer vibrated, except at the very extremity, and the ex¬ pired air then passed out only at this part. So far as he was able to ascertain, the sound increased in acuteness till the orifice became entirely closed. When the air could no longer pass, the sound ceased. That it is the vocal chords whose vibration pro¬ duces the sound, may also be fairly inferred from experiments made after death ; for by taking the windpipe of any quadruped and blowing strongly from below upwards, no sound will be produced so long as the orifice remains expanded: but if, while continuing to blow, the orifice is compressed so much VOCAL ORGANS. 229 as to briii"1 the inner surfaces into contact, a sound will be produced somewhat resembling* the voice of the animal from which the windpipe has been taken. The sound, also, will be more or less acute or grave, according as the lips of the orifice approach each other, and will be most intense when we blow with most force. Again, when an opening is made into the windpipe, either in man or other animals, below the orifice, the voice is destroyed ; but w ill be restored if the opening be mechanically stopped. M. Ma- jendie says, he knows a man who has been in this situation for many years, and who cannot speak except when his cravat, which closes a fistulous opening in the windpipe, is drawn tight. Although Linnaeus has given the general character of “speaking” animals to his class Mammalia, there are several, such as the ant-eaters ( Myrmecophagce ) and the pangolins (Manes), even according to his own description, altogether dumb*; while the dog is said to lose its voice in the West Indies ; and the same is reported of quails in Siberia f. The greater or less perfection of the voice seems, in¬ deed, to depend upon the degree of perfection with which the orifice of the windpipe is formed in the classes of animals possessing that organ ; and it is by the varying number of membranes or muscles in its general structure, or by variations in their shape, position, or elasticity that quadrupeds and most other animals are rendered capable of making those peculiar sounds by which their different kinds are respectively characterized, and are enabled to neigh, bray, bark, or roar ; to purr, as the cat and the tiger; to bleat, as the sheep ; and to croak, as the frog. The frog, however, has a sack or bag of * Systema Naturae, in loco, t Pennant, Arct. Zool. ii. 320, X 230 HABITS OF BIRDS. a singular character in the throat or cheek, directly communicating with the orifice of the windpipe, on which the croaking principally depends*. In birds, again, the windpipe is very different in structure from that of other animals, and in song¬ birds is peculiarly and admirably adapted to that sweet and varied music with which we are so often delighted in the woodlands. The whole extent, in¬ deed, of the windpipe in such birds, may be regarded as one vocal apparatus ; the upper part ( larynx ) being divided into two sections, or, as they may rather, per¬ haps, be considered, into two distinct organs. That which is more complicated, or in which the parts are more numerous and elaborate, is placed at the lower end of the windpipe, at the place where it divides, in order to be distributed through the lungs : the more simple, or that in which the parts are fewer, occupies its usual situation at the upper end of the windpipe, which, however, is destitute of the valve or lid ( epiglottis ) which is found in man. From this view of the vocal organs in birds, we may con¬ sider their lungs and windpipe as forming' a natural bag-pipe, in which the lungs constitute the pouch and supply the wind, — the windpipe itself forming the chanter or pipe ; the lower or more complicated part (glottis inferior') being the reed or mouthpiece which produces the simple sound ; and the upper part (glottis superior) the finger-holes, which modify the simple sound into an infinite variety of distinct notes f- Dr. Macartney has justly remarked, that “ a very little comparison of the mechanism of wind musical instruments with the organs of the voice in birds, will show how nearly they are allied to each other; and * Good’s Study of Medicine, i. 429, second edit, t Idem, i. 461 . VOCAL ORGANS. 231 it may be observed, that the sound produced by some of the larger birds is exactly similar to the notes that proceed from a clarionet or hautboy in the hands of an untutored musician. The inferior glottis exactly corresponds to the reed, and produces the tone or simple sound. The superior larynx gives it utterance, as the holes of the instrument ; but the strength and body of the note depend upon the extent and capacity of the trachea, and the hard¬ ness and elasticity of its parts. The convolution and bony cells of the windpipe, therefore, may be com¬ pared with the turns of a French horn, and the divisions of a bassoon ; and they produce the proper effects of these parts in the voices of those birds in which they are found*.” The Abbe Arnaud com¬ pares the voice of the hooping swan ( Cygmis ferns , Hay) to the sound of a clarionet, winded by a person unacquainted with the instrument f. In birds, however, we meet with a very consider¬ able diversity in the structure of the vocal organs, particularly in the length and thickness of the tube of the windpipe ; and that not only in different species, but often in different sexes of the same species, and especially among water-fowl. This was observed even by the earlier naturalists. Aldro- vand, for example, whom it has been the fashion to consider as a mere fabulist, has given a very ex¬ cellent account of the windpipe of the wild swan (Cygin/s ferns, Ray) from his own observation, which we shall here translate. “ The structure of this windpipe,” he says, “ is worthy of high admiration; for in descending along with the gullet, when it arrives at the throat, it does not, as in other animals, enter the lungs in a straight line, but rising over the shoulder-blade ( claviculus ), * ltees’ Cyclopaedia, Art. Birds. | Buffon, Oiseaux. Art. Cygne. 232 HABITS OF BIRDS. it passes into the keel of the breast-bone, which keel is seldom composed of a single bone, but consists of two sides, with a third resting upon them by way of cover, the whole forming a sort of sheath or tunnel. When the windpipe arrives at the extremity of this sheath, it bends downwards in a serpentine form resembling the letter S, and again, beneath the por¬ tion just described, it emerges from the sheath, and rising upwards over the middle bend of the shoulder- blade, it winds, thus supported, in the manner of a trumpet. Upon its passing under the cavity of the chest, and just before it reaches the lungs, as if to form another vocal organ {larynx), it is transversely cut (being as broad as the small bone is long), and a The breast-bone of a wild Swan, with part of the keel removed to show * the convolution of the trachea within it. The point of the keel-bone, showing the opening through which the trachea enters and returns. VOCAL ORGANS. 233 thin membrane stretched over the opening’, the whole resembling in figure and texture the split reed of those musical instruments, commonly called trom¬ bones, so much esteemed in church service, and which are widest at the lower end, witli a similar fissure. Below this the windpipe divaricates into two branches, both of which enlarge towards the middle, or are directly ramified through the lungs*. Dr. Latham’s description is, that “ the windpipe in the wild swan passes down the neck the whole of its length, after which it enters the keel of the sternum [breast-bone], passing backwards therein nearly the whole of its length, when it bends upwards and forwards, and then enters the cavity of the breast to communicate with the lungs f-” As this curious structure is not found in the tame swan (Cygnus mansuetus , Ray), Willughby very justly remarks, that “ Aldrovand doth not rightly infer that Aristotle never dissected this fowl, because he makes no mention of this ingress, and of the strange figure of the windpipe.” He adds, “ of tame swans, we have anatomized many, and in all have observed the windpipe to descend straight down into the lungs, without any such digression or de¬ flection j.” Button, however, in conformity to the theory which vitiates so many of his details, main¬ tains that this difference of structure “ is insufficient to constitute two distinct species, for the variation exceeds not the sum of the impressions, both internal and external, which the domestic habits may in time produce §.” Recently, Mr. Wingate has discovered that there are two species of wild swan, differing remarkably in * Aldrovandi Orrithologia, iii. fi edit. Francf. f Linn. Trans, iv. 106. J Willughby, Ornith.by Ray, p. 356. § Oiseaux, Art. Le Cygne. x 3 234 habits of birds. the conformation of the windpipe. In Bewick’s swan (Cyg tins Bewickii, Yarrel), in the adult state, the windpipe, which is of equal diameter throughout, enters the keel of the breast-bone, through which it makes its way to the end, where, inclining upwards and outwards, it passes into a cavity formed in the body of the bone by the separation of the bony plates, and producing a convex protuberance on the inner surface of the breast-bone. In this cavity the wind¬ pipe assumes a horizontal direction, and makes a considerable curve, reaching within half an inch of the posterior edge of the breast-bone. It then re¬ turns to the keel, along the upper part, of which it passes to the exterior edge of the bone, over which it is reflected so as to enter the body of the bird, and become attached to the lungs. On the other hand, in the wild or hooping swan (C. ferus ), the wind¬ pipe never assumes a horizontal direction, and does not even penetrate within the keel to the extent of one half of the breast-bone*. * Trans, of the Nat. Hist. Society of Newcastle, for 1831, and Zool. Journ. v. 258. VOCAL ORGANS. 235 One of the best accounts we have met with of the vocal organs of birds is by M. llerissant, according to whom the principal apparatus consists of mem¬ branes varying in thinness and expansion in different species. In such birds as the goose, which is ad¬ mirably described by Ilaller*, there are four such membranes, resembling in figure and disposition the reeds of a hautbois, and disposed in twos. Rut though these membranes, which are more or less distinct according to the species, are the principal vocal organs, they are not the only ones, for M. He- rissant discovered many others in the interior parts of the lungs. They are placed transversely upon one another, and their texture and disposition re¬ semble spiders’ webs. These membranes, so delicate, placed one above the other, and all ready to vibrate, present a spectacle which no naturalist can fail to admire. Each of them is somewhat of a crescent shape, and attached by the circular circumference to the sides of the tube. Each inclines a little towards the end whence the air passes which comes from the lungs, and which cannot pass without exciting them more or less to vibrate. Besides the membranes just described, and which are met with in all the birds M. llerissant examined, there are others, of different forms, variously placed over certain bones and cartilages, some being situated towards the middle part of the windpipe, and others lower down. These are also met with in certain water-fowl of the duck tribe. There is found, more¬ over, in all birds, another membrane varying in thickness, and so essential, that without it no vocal sound could be produced. This is situated almost transversely between the two horns of the crescent¬ shaped bone ( furcula ), and there forms the termi¬ nation of the cavity in the upper and inner part of the * Element. Physiol. 236 HABITS OF BIRDS. chest. All these organs being put in play by the air in the lungs, they jerk and vibrate more rapidly according to the rapidity with which the air passes*. At the request of Mr. Pennant, the celebrated John H unter examined the vocal organs of many singing- birds, and found that the loudest songsters have the strongest muscles in those parts. The sky-lark, whose ' clear and vigorous note is often heard when he can no longer be followed in his ascent by the most pene¬ trating eye, had the muscles here stronger than any other bird that was examined. Mr. Hunter also observed that, among singing-birds, the muscles of the male, following the same rule, are stronger than those of the female, whose voice is always less power¬ ful ; and it is worthy of remark that he could discover no difference in the vocal organs of the male and female in birds which do not sing. Baron Cuvier again found in all singing-birds five pairs of constrictor muscles, namely, two pairs before, two behind, two small, two oblique, and two trans¬ verse, while in most birds which do not sing there is in general only one pair t- The most minute account of the action of these muscles has been given by M. Meckel in his work on comparative anatomy, and by Dr. Bennatii; but it would be difficult to present any intelligible statement of their details in an abridged form. All these observations, however, are by no means new, for the famous Jesuit, Athanasius Kircher, gives the following minute and surprisingly accurate account of the vocal organs of the nightingale. “ In the first place,” says he, “ we find its tongue very short, but the other vocal organs ( larynx ) fibrous and muscular in an astonishing manner, though in other respects it * Mem. Acad, des Sciences, pour 1753, p. 229. f Lecons d’Anat. Comparee. X Annales des Sciences Naturelles, xxiii. 32, &c. VOCAL ORGANS. 237 does not differ from other birds. We therefore con¬ clude that all the power and variety of its notes are produced from innumerable fibres by which the vocal chord ( glottis ) is either tightened or relaxed, projected forwards or drawn inwards, and bent in every direction, the tongue performing the office of a bow {plectrum) in eliciting the several notes. I further infer that those guttural warblings called trills , which professional singers make in the throat, are not formed by the tongue, but immediately by the vocal chords, and that this trilling is produced solely by the exspiration of air striking on the vocal chords*.” From the inquiries of those of the more modern physiologists whose works we have examined, it does not appear that they have paid sufficient attention to the influence of the tongue in modifying the sound of the voice, though it will appear from some of the facts which we shall presently state, that this influence is probably considerable, even if we should not go so far as Kireher, in representing it as the bow or quill by which at least in the nightingale the sound is produced. Aristotle had observed the shortness of the nightingale’s tongue, which he says “ wants the tipf;” and Pliny remarks that “in common with the black¬ cap ( Atricapilla ) it has not the slender tip possessed by other birds J.” F. Sanctius says, “I can positively aver, that the nightingale has no tongue, unless my eyes deceive me§.” Aldrovand, on quoting the above passage, remarks, “ A few days since, one of my friends brought me a nightingale in a cage, and when we had taken it out, we could hardly observe the smallest vestige of a tongue ; which circumstance excited in me considerable wonder, that the little bird * Kireher, Musurgia, lib. i. f Hist. Anim. ix. 15. X Hist. Nat. x. 29. § Commen. in Al, Erab. 701. 238 HABITS OF BIRDS. should have such sweetness of song’ and such vibra¬ tion of voice, and yet be without a tongue, unless it were perhaps concealed in its throat. Poets, there¬ fore, were not far from the truth when they sung, that the nightingale’s tongue had been cut out. But whether their story be correct, I leave to be decided by others. As many, however, as I have seen (and I have seen a great many) had all a very distinct tongue. Some assert that the story among poets of the nightingale’s wanting a tongue originated in the circumstance of Philomela having her tongue cut out by Thereus, and thence deduce a plausible reason for believing that the nightingale is in reality deprived of the tip of the tongue*.” Now, recurring to the comparison of the organs of the voice to a reeded wind instrument, it has been maintained by Dutrochet and Cuvier, that the tube which conveys the air to the reed has no influence whatever on the sound produced. M. Biot, however, relates an experiment by M. Grenie, which proves that this opinion is not correct. It is not impossible, that the lengthening or shortening the windpipe, which is the tube for conveying the air to the vocal chords, may have some influence in the production of the voice and in occasioning its different tones. This tube, in¬ deed, is formed so as to be lengthened or shortened, enlarged or diminished in diameter ; and being sus¬ ceptible of assuming an indefinite number of dif¬ ferent forms, it may fulfil very well the office of the body of a reed instrument ; that is, it may possess the power of adjusting itself so as to harmonize with the vocal chords, and thus favour the production of any among the numerous tones of which the voice is susceptible. It will increase the intensity of the vocal sounds, by assuming a conical form ; by enlarging externally, it will give them an agreeable rotundity ; * Aldrovandi Orrithologia, ii. 339. VOCAL ORGANS. ‘239 or, by a suitable disposition of the external opening-, it will nearly suppress them. But till natural philo¬ sophy shall have determined with precision the in¬ fluence of the tube in reeded instruments, we can, at best, only form probable conjectures upon this sub¬ ject. Through its various peculiarities, however, of form, position, elasticity, and movement, the tongue in the nightingale, like the valve or lid (epiglottis) of the orifice in man, seems to constitute an essential part of the apparatus of the voice, independently of its office of contracting the vocal tube. M. Grenie, who has invented so many ingenious and useful modifications of reeded instruments, at one period of his investigations, attempted to augment the in¬ tensity of the sound without changing the reed. To effect that object, he was obliged to augment, gradually, the intensity of the current of air ; but this, though it rendered the sounds stronger, had like- wise the effect of elevating the note. The only remedy for this inconvenience, which M. Grenie could discover, was to place obliquely, in the tube, immediately above the reed, a flexible elastic tongue, resembling very much the similar apparatus in animals. Among the call-notes of birds, that of the bittern ( Ardea stellar is), has excited attention from the ear¬ liest times, and various attempts have been made to account for its formation. The sound itself has been likened to the lowing of a bull, and hence the bird was called the hull ( Botaunis ), by old writers ; but Willughbv, from his own observation, asserts that the sound is “nothing like to lowing,” &c., but “ to say the truth, seems mucfl more to imitate the braving of an ass than the bellowing* of a bull*.” Goldsmith’s description, also, from his own obser¬ vation, seems more minute, though it may possibly * Orni'cli. by Ray, p. 283. 240 HABITS OF BIRDS. be somewhat tinged with poetry. “ Those,” says lie, “ who have walked in an evening by the sedgy sides of unfrequented rivers, must remember a variety of notes from different water-fowl ; the loud scream of the wild goose, the croaking of the mallard, the whining of the lap-wing, and the tremulous neighing of the jack-snipe. But of all those sounds there is none so dismally hollow as the booming of the bit¬ tern. It is impossible for words to give those who have not heard this evening call, an adequate idea of its solemnity. It is like the interrupted bellowing of a bull, but hollower and louder, and is heard at a mile’s distance, as if issuing from some formidable being that resided at the bottom of the waters*.” Southey represents this sound as being heard at a distance : “ - At evening o’er the swampy plain The bittern’s boom came farf.” The earliest explanation we have met with of the manner in which this sound is produced, is by Aris¬ totle, who introduces it amongst his Problems. “ Why,” says he, “ do those, which are called Bo- mugi, and which are fabulously reported to be bulls, consecrated to some deity, usually dwell among marshes, which are situate near rivers ? Is the sound really so like the bellowing of a bull, that, if it is heard by oxen, they are as much affected by it, as if they felt sensible some bull was bellowing? Is not such a sound produced when rivers inundate marshes, or marshes overflow their boundaries, and are either roughly checked in their impetuous course by the sea, and thence send forth a rushing sound ? Similar sounds are produced in caverns underground, into which currents of water rush and dispel the air through small apertures; and also when a man * Animated Nature, iii. 263. f Thalaba. VOCAL ORGANS. 241 applies his mouth to an empty barrel, and makes a murmuring noise therein, it will resemble the lowing of an ox. Various forms of things which are hoi- low produce sounds of astonishing variety. If any one, for instance, remove the lid of a cask and draw the bottom of it upwards and downwards, shouting in it at the same time, a sound will, by such a con¬ trivance, be produced, that would frighten wild animals in a similar manner to that which is prac¬ tised by orchard keepers*.” Old Belon does not seem to be aware of this pas¬ sage when he says, “ It is not a little marvellous that Aristotle, who has written the history of animals with so much care, should have left it to us to record, that when the bittern comes to the bank of a pond or marsh, putting its bill under the water, it produces so loud a sound that a bull could not bellow so loud ; for it so manages the utterance of this sound that it can be heard at the distance of half a leaguet-” Gesner, from his own observation, says it may be heard at the distance of half a German mile J; or, as another author gives it, a good hour’s walk§. The remarks of Buffon on the loudness of the voices of birds are more correct than is usual with him when he launches into speculation. “ In birds,” he says, “ the formation of the thorax, of the lungs, and of all the organs connected with these, seems expressly calculated to give force and duration to their utterance, and the effect must be proportionally * Aristotle, Problem, ii. 35. f Oyseaux, p. 193, fol. Paris, 1555. The original is, a C’est bien a s’esmerueiller qu’Aristote, qui a escrit l’histoire des animaux saigneusement, a laisse ce que dirons du Butor, c’est que quand il se trouve a la rive de quelque estang au marais, mettant son bee en l’eau, il fait un si gros son, qu’il n’y a beuf qui peust crier si bant,” t De Avibus, iii. Ardea Stellaris, $ Physicac Curiosoe. p. H60. Y 242 HABITS OF BIRDS. Greater. There is another circumstance which evinces that birds have a prodigious power of voice ; the cries of many species are uttered in the higher regions of the atmosphere, where the rarity of the medium must consequently weaken the effect. That the rare¬ faction of the air diminishes sounds is well ascertained from pneurnatical experiments ; and I can add from my own observation, that, even in the open air, a sensible difference in this respect may be perceived. I have often spent whole da\s in the forests, where I was obliged to listen closely to the cries of the dogs or shouts of the hunters; I uniformly found that the same noises, were much less audible during the heat of the day, between ten and four o’clock, than in the evening, and particularly in the night, whose stillness would make hardly any alteration, since in these sequestered scenes there is nothing to disturb the harmony but the slight buzz of insects, and the chirping of some birds. I have observed a similar difference between the frosty days in winter and the heats of summer. This can be imputed only to the variation in the density of the air. Indeed, the dif¬ ference seems to be so great, that I have often been unable to distinguish, in mid-day, at the distance of six hundred paces, the same voice which I could, at six o’clock in the morning or evening, hear at that of twelve or fifteen hundred paces. A bird may rise at least to the height of seventeen thousand feet, for it is there just visible. A flock of several hundred storks, geese, or ducks, must mount still higher, since, not¬ withstanding the space which they occupy, they soar almost out of sight. If the cry of birds, therefore, may be heard from an altitude of above a league, we may reckon it at least four times as powerful as that of men or quadrupeds, which is not audible at more than half a league’s distance on the surface. But this estimation is even too low ; for, besides the dis- VOCAL ORGANS. 243 sipation of force to be attributed to the cause already assigned, the sound is propagated in the higher regions as from a centre in all directions, and only a part of it reaches the ground ; but, when made at the surface, the aerial waves are reflected as they roll along, and the lateral and vertical effect is aug¬ mented. It is hence that a person on the top of a tower hears one better at the bottom than the person below hears from above With respect to the bittern, an opinion is popularly held, that this bird ‘‘thrusts its bill into a reed that serves it as a pipe for swelling the note above its natural pitch the supposition of some being, “ from the loudness and solemnity of the note, that the bird made use of external instruments to produce it, and that so small a body could never eject such a quantity of tone; while others, and in this number we find Thomson, the poet, imagine that the bird puts its head under water, and then, violently blowing, pro¬ duces its boomingst.” Thomson says — (e - So that scarce The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulph’d, To shake the sounding marsh J.” Had Thomson, however, been acquainted with the Ornithology of Aldrovaud, he might there have found a correct account of the vocal organs by which the bird produces the sound, and which we shall now trans¬ late. “ It has not.,” he says, “ like the wild swan and many others, a double larynx, namely, one at the base of the tongue, and another where the windpipe begins to divaricate. In the bittern the windpipe is continuous, having no larynx nor anything analogous to one. But Nature appears to have wished to com¬ pensate for this deficiency, by constructing two canals * Wood’s Buffon, xi. 12. -j- Goldsmith, Anim. Nat. iii. 263. $ Seasons, — Spring. 244 HABITS OP BIRDS. from the windpipe, one going to the right and another to the left lung. The cartilaginous rings of the windpipe, moreover, do not go entirely, but only half round the tube, the circle being completed by a thin, loose, and elastic membrane, which is capable of being* greatly inflated. Two sacks being thus formed, when they are inflated, the imprisoned air escapes with violence in bellowing*.” So far the account is perspicuous and accurate; but he adds, “ When the inspired air inflates the sacks, the bird, thrusting its bill under water, and opening it, allows the air to rush out with such impetus as to rival the bellowing of a built.” We must consider this state¬ ment as purely conjectural ; and, as Button well remarks, it would not be easy either to verify or disprove the fact from observation!, since the bird lurks always so close as to escape the sight, and the fowlers cannot reach the spots where it lurks without wading through the reeds into deep water. Gold¬ smith, who seems to have been familiar with the sound, says, “ It is often heard where there are neither reeds nor waters to assist its sonorous invita¬ tions.” He adds, “ It cannot be, therefore, from its voracious appetites, but its hollow boom, that the bittern is held in such detestation by the vulgar. I remember, in the place where I was a boy, with what terror this bird’s note affected the whole village ; they considered it as the presage of some sad event, and generally found or made one to succeed it. I do not speak ludicrously ; but if any person in the neigh¬ bourhood died, they supposed it could not be other¬ wise, for the night raven had foretold it; but if nobody happened to die, the death of a cow or a sheep gave completion to the prophecy §.” “ The bellowing noise,” says Dr. Latham, “ is supposed to arise from a loose membrane which can * Ornithologia, iii. 166. + Ibid. X Oiseaux, Art. Le Butor. o Anim. Nat. iii, 264. VOCAL ORGANS. 245 be filled with air and exploded at pleasure ; and the situation of it is at the divarication of the windpipe; it is capable of parent distension, and is probably the cause of this singular phenomenon, observed, we believe, in no other bird, at least in the same degree. We 1 lave had no opportunity ourselves of witnessing this, but are informed by Dr. Lamb, that, on dissect¬ ing a female, he observed that after t he windpipe ( trachea ) had passed into the chest ( thorax ) to the lower part of the breast-bone {sternum), it was re¬ flected to the superior portion of the latter, and then, on a second reflection, divided and passed into the lungs.” Me adds, “ I have been assured, that by filling the windpipe with air after death and exploding it again suddenly, a similar noise will be produced*.” The cry of the bittern has been sometimes con¬ founded with that of the snipe, though there is little if any resemblance between the twot. It is, on the con¬ trary, so like the bleating of a goat, that Klein and Rzaczynski have named it the celestial goat {Capella * General Hist, of Birds, ix.98. See also Ward, Nat. Hist, of Birds, iii. 150. t J. Rennie, Mag. Nat. Hist. i. 495. y 3 246 HABITS OF BIRDS. ccelestis) ; and, in the North, it is well known under the name of Heather -bleat. The snipe, however, like most other birds, can vary its calls. “ One note,” it has been said, “ may be compared to the words * tin¬ ker, tinker,’ uttered in a sharp shrill tone, as the bird ascends in his flight ; the other, uttered as he descends, is somewhat similar to the bleating of a lamb, only in a deeper tone, and accompanied with a violent vibration of the wines It is probable, as M. Temminck plausibly con¬ jectures, that some unexamined peculiarity of con¬ struction in the vocal organs of the Indian-crowned pigeon ( Lophyrus cristatus , Vieillot) enables it to produce the loud cooing, or rather bellowing, which so much alarmed M. Bougainville’s sailors when they landed on a wild and unfrequented spot in some of the New Guinea islands, that they supposed it to proceed from the cries of hostile and concealed na¬ tives j\ Temminck compares the sound to the gob¬ bling ventriloquism of the turkey. Crowned. Pigeon of Africa. * Mag. of Nat.. Hist. ii. 144. j Temminck, Pigeons, i. 385. 247 Chapter XIV. LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. By the term language , in reference to birds, we mean sounds which can be mutually understood, excluding' the words and phrases which parrots and starlings may be taught by imitation, but to which the birds that repeat them can attach no meaning. An exam¬ ple will best illustrate this, and we do not recollect one more apposite than a circumstance mentioned by Wilson when speaking of the richel bird ( Sterna mi- nuta). “I lately,” he says, “ visited those parts of the beach on Cape May, where this little bird breeds. During my whole stay, these birds flew in crowds around me, and often within a few yards of my head, squeaking like so many young pigs, which noise their voice strikingly resembles. A humming-bird, that had accidentally strayed to the place, appeared sud¬ denly among this outrageous troop, several of whom darted angrily at him ; but he shot like an arrow from them, directing his flight straight towards the ocean. I have no doubt but the distressing cries of the terns had drawn this little creature to the scene, having frequently witnessed his anxious curiosity on similar occasions in the woods The humming-bird in¬ deed is not alone in the exhibition of curiosity to see w hat is gome; forward when other birds are vociferous. We recollect having our attention once drawn to the loud scolding of a pair of chaffinches in a copse, a circumstance of very frequent occurrence during summer, but rendered peculiar in the instance in * Wilson, Am. Ornitb. vii. 85. 248 HABITS OF BIRDS. question, by the birds darting down almost to the roots of the bushes at some distance from where we stood, from which we concluded their scolding was not directed to us. The loud pink, pink , of the chaffinches soon attracted to the spot a crowd of their woodland neighbours, among whom a red-breast took the lead, followed by a green-bird, a song- thrush, and about a dozen of the small summer birds (Sylviadtf), all brought together by curiosity to learn what the chaffinches were scolding about. From all of these curiosity-hunters giving vent to the same expression of feeling', we concluded that some com¬ mon enemy had made his appearance among them; and upon looking narrowly into the bushes we per¬ ceived a pine martin {Marten abietum , Ray) stealing along, occasionally throwing a sly, or rather con¬ temptuous look at his vociferous railers, but other¬ wise continuing a careful prying search into every hole and bush for a nest of eggs or young, of which he might make a breakfast*. It appears, however, to be a shrewd and correct observation of Mr. Knapp, that the voice of one spe¬ cies of birds, except in particular cases, is not at¬ tended to by another species ; and he instances the peculiar call of the female cuckoo which assembles so many contending rivals, but excites no attention generally, inasmuch as the dialect seems to be un¬ known to all but its own species. He adds, “ I know but one note which animals make use of, that seems of universal comprehension, and this is the signal of danger: the instant it is uttered, we hear the whole flock, though composed of various species, repeat a separate moan, and away they all scuttle into the bushes for safetv t- ’ The latter circumstance, however, is contrary to all * J.R. t Journ, of a Naturalist, p. 268, third edit. LANGUAGE. 219 that we have ever observed; for instead of flying- or hiding from danger, the alarm-call seems to em¬ bolden even the most timid to run every hazard; and accordingly, it is matter of common observation that whenever a hawk makes his appearance, the first swallow which descries him, sounds the tocsin, when not only all the swallows in the vicinity muster their forces, but many other small birds hurry to the spot, and so far from sculking away out of danger, they boldly face their powerful foe, attacking him fear¬ lessly with beak and wing, till some individual pays the penalty of his temerity. With this exception we can bear testimony to the description of Mr. Knapp being minutely correct. “ Some,” he adds, “ give the maternal hush to their young, and mount to in¬ quire into the jeopardy announced. The wren, that tells of perils from the hedge, soon collects about her all the various inquisitive species within hearing to survey and ascertain the object and add their sepa¬ rate fears. The swallow, that shrieking darts in de¬ vious flight through the air when a hawk appears, not only calls up all the hirundines of the village, but is instantly understood by every finch and sparrow, and its warning attended to Dr. Darwin, in his usual ingenious but fanciful manner, endeavours to show that this language of fear and alarm is (like other sounds usually con¬ sidered natural) acquired and conventional like human speech. His facts will amuse the reader, while his in¬ ferences must appear quite hypothetical and strained. “ All other animals,” he says, “as well as man, are possessed of the natural language of the passions, expressed in signs or tones; and we shall endeavour to evince, that those animals which have preserved themselves from being enslaved by mankind, and are associated in flocks, are also possessed of some * Journ. of a Naturalist, p. 2G8, third edit. 250 HABITS OF BIRDS. artificial language and of some traditional know¬ ledge. “ The mother-turkey, when she eyes a kite hover¬ ing high in air, has either seen her own parents thrown into fear at his presence, or has by observation been acquainted with his dangerous designs upon her young. She becomes agitated with tear, and uses the natural language of that passion; her young ones catch the fear by imitation, and in an instant conceal themselves in the grass. “ At the same time that she shows her fears by her gesture and deportment, she uses a certain exclama¬ tion, Koe-ut, Koe-ut, and the young ones afterwards know that the presence of their adversary is de¬ nounced and hide themselves as before. “ The wild tribes of birds have very frequent opportunities of knowing their enemies by observing the destruction they make among their progeny, of which every year but a small part escapes to matu¬ rity ; but to our domestic birds these opportunities so rarely occur, that their knowledge of their distant enemies must frequently be delivered by tradition in the manner above explained, through many gene¬ rations. “ This note of danger, as well as the other notes of the mother-turkey, when she calls her flock to their food, or to sleep under her wings, appears to be an artificial language, both as expressed by the mother, and as understood by the progeny. For a hen teaches this language with equal ease to the duck¬ lings she has hatched from supposititious eggs, and educates as her own offspring; and the wagtails or hedge-sparrows learn it from the young cuckoo, their foster-nursling, and supply him with food long' after he can fly about, whenever they hear his cuckooing, which Linnseus tells us, is his call of hunger*. And * Syst. Nat. LANGUAGE. 251 all our domestic animals are readily taught to come to us for food when we use one tone of voice, and to f 1 v from our anger when we use another. “ Rabbits, as they cannot easily articulate sounds, and are formed into societies that live under ground, have a very different method of giving alarm. When danger is threatened, they thump on the ground with one of their hinder feet, and produce a sound that can be heard a great wav by animals near the surface of the earth, which would seem to be an artificial sign both from its singularity and its aptness to the situation of the animal. “The rabbits on the island of Lor near Senegal have white flesh and are well-tasted, but do not burrow in the earth, so that we may suspect their dinging themselves houses in this cold climate is an acquired art, as well as their note of alarm *. “The barking of dogs is another curious note of vJ o alarm, and would seem to be an acquired language, rather than a natural sign ; for ‘ in the island of Juan Fernandez, the dogs did not attempt to bark, till some European dogs were put among them ; and then they gradually begun to imitate them, but in a strange manner at first, as if they were learning a thing that was not natural to themf*’ “ Linnaeus also observes that the dogs of America do not bark at strangers J; and tiie European dogs which have been carried to Guinea are said, in three or four generations, to cease to bark, and only howl, like the dogs that are natives of that coast §.” In reference to the thumping of the rabbit men¬ tioned by Dr. Darwin, we may state that the act # Adanson’s Voyage to Senegal. t Voyage to S. America, by Don G. Juan and Don Ant. de Ulloa, B. li. c. 4. f Syst. Nat. § World Displayed, xvii. 26, and Zoonomia, § xvi. 10, 1. 252 HABITS OF BIRDS. is by no means peculiar to that species, several other animals exhibiting it still more strikingly, and amongst others the porcupine ( Hystrix , Brisson), which we have in numerous instances observed when in confinement to beat the floor of its cage with one of its hind feet so violently as to make us apprehend it might fracture the bone. We are not sufficiently acquainted with the economy of the porcupine in a wild state to assign a cause for this thumping ; but it appeared to us to mean defiance as plainly as the hissing of an owl or of a gander, or the crowing of a cock *. Those who have attended minutely to the language of fear, alarm, or defiance among birds, cannot fail to have remarked the considerable variety both of notes and intonation in the same species. Thus, as White of Selborne remarks, “ when the hen turkey leads forth her young brood, she keeps a watchful eye, and if a bird of prey appear, though ever so high in the air, the careful mother announces the enemy with a little inward moan and watches him with a steady and attentive look; but if he approach, her note becomes earnest and alarming, and her out¬ cries are redoubled t-’’ In the instance of a cock bird expressing fear or giving an alarm to the hen of the approach of danger near the nest, the tones seem to be varied so as to give her due notice either to keep close and still, or to make her escape with as much caution as she can. “ This note,’’ observes Mr. Syme, “ is only comprehended by birds of the same species, though we have certainly seen birds of different genera appear as if alarmed by this note of fear sounded by a bird of a different species or genus ; but whether it was the note that alarmed them, or our presence, we cannot say. But we are pretty sure the notes of parent birds and the chirp of their young, * J. R. f Letter 85. LANGUAGE. 253 are only understood by birds of' the same species, or rather we should say same family, for it appears to be a family language, understood reciprocally by parent birds and their young: for the young know the notes of the parents, and the parents those of their own brood, amongst all the young broods of other birds of the same species in the neighbour¬ hood ; and this they do as distinctly as the ewe knows the bleat of her own lamb, or the lamb the cry of its own mother, amongst a large flock. With regard to the note of alarm birds send forth on the approach of their natural enemies, whether a hawk, an owl, or a cat, we consider it to be a general language perfectly understood by all small birds, though each species has a note peculiar to itself. This note differs in sound from the note of fear or alarm given by them when man approaches near their nests. This last seems confined to particular species ; but this general alarm note (which is under¬ stood by all small birds), we should call their war-whoop or gathering cry, for it is a true natural slogan The noisy cackle of jays, the cawing of rooks, and the incessant yelp of sparrows, appear, so far as we can judge, to be partly so many social signals for con¬ gregating in a particular place, and to be continued after the flock has assembled, either to warn strag¬ glers to what point they ought to wing their way, or, in the spirit of rivalry which prevails so extensively amongst birds, with the object of outvying each other in loudness of tone. It is remarkable, indeed, that most, if not all, gregarious birds are thus noisy, and differ much in this respect from solitary or sub-solitary birds. If a rook or a sea-gull, therefore, is by acci¬ dent separated from its companions, it will keep up * Brit. Song Birds, Intr. p. 31. Z 254 HABITS OP EIRDS. an incessant vociferous call, till a response is re¬ turned either from some other straggler, or from the colony to which it belongs. The necessity of such a habit as this is still more obvious in the case of those birds which migrate together at night. “ Aquatic and gregarious birds,” says White, “ especially the nocturnal, that shift their quarters in the dark, are very noisy and loquacious; as cranes, wild-geese, wild- ducks, and the like ; their perpetual clamour prevents them from dispersing and losing their companions*;” and accordingly, when residing near the sea or a large river, we have often heard the scream of these night-fliers “ startle the dull ear of night.” There appears, however, to be a decided and well- understood distinction between the call of such stragglers as we have just alluded to, and the gathering-cry when an individual has discovered abundance of food. A sea-mew, or what is more common, a pair of sea-mews, may thus be seen far inland, whither they have probably been driven by blowing weather, coursing about high in the air, sometimes flying in one direction and sometimes tacking about, and all the while uttering at intervals a peculiar call-note ; but even should this occur near the beach, no other sea-mew would think of coming at the signal. But, on the other hand, the note of intimation proceeding from an individual who has discovered a good fishing-station over a sand-bank, is so well understood and so quickly obeyed, that we have repeatedly seen some hundreds of birds hurry to the place in a few minutes, though none were previously observable. There are instances, however, of birds thus calling when on the wing, which it does not seem so na¬ tural to account for on either of these suppositions. * Letter 85. LANGUAGE. 255 We may mention the shrill harsh scream of the king-fisher and of the dipper ( Cinclus aquations , Bechstein), which, so far as our observation goes, is repeated every time these birds take wing. It may, perhaps, as they are almost always seen in pairs, be meant as a signal-note to the mate, — an explanation rendered more probable by the rapidity of their flight, which carries them in an instant to a great distance along a stream, so that without some such watch-call they might soon be separated. This call is not unlike the sound of a stick drawn rapidly across the uprights of an iron railing, and comes on the ear so quick and transient, that it is impossible to catch a view of the bird by trying to follow the sound*. It is ingeniously, and, as we think, correctly, re¬ marked by Mr. Knapp, that “ as Nature, in all her ordinations, had a fixed design and fore-knowledge, it may be that each species had a separate voice as¬ signed it, that each might continue as created, dis¬ tinct and unmixed ; and the very few deviations and admixtures that have taken place, considering the lapse of time, association, and opportunity, united with the prohibition of continuing accidental devia¬ tions, are very remarkable, and indicate a cause and original motive. That some of the notes of birds are a language designed to convey a meaning, is obvious from the very different sounds uttered by these creatures at particular periods ; the spring voices become changed as summer advances, and the requirements of the early season have ceased : the summer excitements, monitions, informations, are not needed in autumn, and the notes conveying such intelligence are no longer heard. The periodical calls of animals, croaking of frogs, &c., afford the * J. R. 256 HABITS OF BIRDS. same reason for concluding- that the sound of their voices, by elevation, depression, or modulation, con¬ veys intelligence equivalent to an uttered sentence. The voices of birds seem applicable, in most instances, to the immediate necessities of their condition ; such as the sexual call, the invitation to unite when dis¬ persed, the moan of danger, the shriek of alarm, the notice of food It was, no doubt, from such views as these that the notion originated of birds being possessed of a language, and of a knowledge of it having been obtained by certain individuals. The faculty of in¬ terpreting the language of birds is attributed, in classic fable, to various of the ancient diviners. Apollodorus, in his Bibliotheca, relates of Melam- pus, that he acquired this gift by having had his ears licked by serpents; and that one of the ways by which he chiefly gained a knowledge of futurity, was by listening to what he heard uttered by the birds as they flew over his head. Porphyry, in his book on abstinence from animal food, refers to Em¬ pedocles, Plato, and Aristotle, in support of the opinion that all the inferior animals are possessed both of reason and language ; and, in addition to Melampus, he mentions Tiresias, Thales, and Apol¬ lonius of Tyanaea, as having been able to interpret what they said. This is affirmed to have been one of the gifts bestowed upon Tiresias in compensation for his blindness by Minerva. Some of the Jewish rabbies have attributed a similar power to King Solomon. Even as late as the seventeenth century we find the Irish monk, Bonaventure Baron, in his work in defence of Scotus, speaking of a brother Franciscan, who, he savs, understood the lanaruace of beasts, and was enabled by that means to foretell * Journ. of a Naturalist, p. 269, 3d edit. LANGUAGE. 257 coming events. The belief that birds are possessed of a knowledge of futurity, is part of the same notion which has led men to seek indications of what is about to happen in their flight and other move¬ ments, and which has given rise both to the ancient vaticination by augury, and to various popular superstitions which still survive. The power of communicating the gift of prophecy inherent in the serpent, was also a prominent article of the mystic creed of antiquity. The Trojan prophetess, Cassan¬ dra, is said to have acquired her art by having been left one night, when a child, together with her twin brother Helenus, in the temple of Apollo, when the two were found next morning with some serpents coiled round them and licking their ears. And Pliny, in his Natural History, tells us that Demo¬ critus had mentioned the names of certain birds, whose blood being mixed together would produce a serpent of such virtue, that any one who ate of it should understand whatever was said by birds when they conversed together. This story is alluded to by Addison in one of his Spectators *. It were to be wished that all fables in natural history were as obvious to an ordinary reader as this ; for we meet with others in books wearing the air of well-ascertained facts, which could only ori¬ ginate in the fancy of the writers. This is exempli¬ fied in the story told of the butcher-bird ( Lanius excubitor), which is said to imitate the voices of other birds, by way of decoying them within his reach, that he may devour them ; “ excepting this,” it is added, “ his natural note is the same throughout * Vol. vii. No. 512. See upon this subject Bavle, Diction- naire, in articles Cassandra, Meiampus, Pereira, and Tiresias. See also some remarks on the language of birds in Montaigne, Essais, Liv. ii. Es. 12, Apologie pour Kaymonde cle Sebonde. z 3 258 HABITS OF BIRDS. all seasons: when kept in a cage, even when he seems perfectly contented, he is always mute*.” We venture to say, however, that nobody will ever be able to authenticate this statement, for the organs of the bird, were there no other obstacle, seem altoge¬ ther incapable of the variety of modulation which the habit imputed to it would require, though, like most, if not all other birds, this species can express more than one sort of feeling. Father Kircher, who at¬ tended minutely to this curious subject, has expressed the various notes of poultry by musical characters of which the following is a copy. Cock's notes. 11 H“ 0. & 0 ^ A • A A nn«rr ' - r~ ^ ii ii r i - prr ■ ■ n n vJ m z r c> 11 rh r- rz \ !“■! 1 > iw i i i j i - r - r - r L / L ii rr ^ Cu-cu-li-cu, Cu-cu-li-cu, Cu-cu-li-cu. Hen after laying. Hd— f J 1 , L "111-1© 1 1 e Inn 111^ i ■* -1-1 u - 1 - 1 11 r d-Ph :& & & 0 : 0 0 9 M 0 0 0 0 in rr ■n— ft To to to to to to to to to to to to to to to Hi— r »jj L — n -t-to 1-^1 1 1 1-^ n h-4 B? i ■ i j i J lilt S' 0 0 . -019 0 9 0 0 0 0 0 8 ii r i-V to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to Hen calling her chickens. - •• » * *zz*zi0 H-rtj - hj — \~A — j - i — I - h* — ha — fa — k — 1 - H-'—l - / — / — 1 - / — t - f — / — / — / — (- - Glo glo glo glo glo glo glo glo glo glo. * Anim. Biog. ii. 219. 250 LANGUAGE. Call of the Quail. Mi— 1 i - «a- p » s m.m p ] 1 1—, i v ; -n — \ \ / 1 r / r / r il MM— rr^ r t v r v I Bi - ke - bik, Bi - ke - bik, Bi - ke - bik*. M. Vaillant has also noted in a similar manner the peculiar calls of many of the birds which he observed in Southern Africa. * Kircher’s Musurgia, i. 260 HABITS OF BIRDS. Chapter XV. SONGS OF BIRDS. The songs of birds have given rise to several curious inquiries of no small interest to naturalists, some of which it may prove both amusing and in¬ structive to detail. We may, however, begin by stating, that, after investigating the subject with con¬ siderable attention for many years, we have come to the conclusion that the notes of birds which are de¬ nominated singing, may all be referred to hilarity and joy, or to rivalry and defiance, rather than to imitation or to love, as has been maintained by some naturalists of celebrity. Mr. Pennant gives the fol¬ lowing view of the matter: — “ Jt may be worthy,” he says, “of observation, that the female of no species of birds ever sings; with birds it is the reverse of what occurs in human kind : among the feathered tribe, all the cares of life fall to the lot of the tender sex : theirs is the fatigue of incubation ; and the principal share in nursing the helpless brood : to alleviate these fatigues, and to support her under them, nature hath given to the male the song, with all the little blandishments and soothing arts ; these he fondly exerts (even after courtship) on some spray contiguous to the nest, during the time his mate is performing her parental duties. To these we may add a few particulars, that fell within our notice during our inquiries among the bird-catchers, such as, that thev immediately kill SONGS. 261 the hens of every species of birds they take, being incapable of singing*.” Buffon makes the qualified statement that “ the females are much more silent than the males, song being generally withheld from themf;” probably resting on the authority of Lord Bacon, who says “ that cock birds, among singing birds, are ever the better singers J.” The latter again most likely fol¬ lowed Aristotle, who says, “some males sing like their females, as appears among nightingales, but the female gives over song when she hatches §.” Dailies Barrington, assuming it as a fact that females never sing, proceeds to divine the reason thereof, inferring it to be because it might betray their nest should they sing while sitting on their eggs||. But before drawing such a conclusion, it would have been well to make sure of the fact. It is certainly true as a general position, that female birds do not sing ; yet many exceptions have been recorded. We possess, at present, in the same aviary with two green-birds and an aberdevine ( Carduelis spinas'), a female canary who sings a great deal. Her notes indeed are harsh and unmusical, but are both loud and uttered in a full and sustained tone of voice, though altogether unlike the notes either of the male canary or of any other bird with which we are acquainted. It is no less worthy of remark that this female canary is never excited to rivalry by the songs of a number of other birds in the same apartment, as the cocks of every species commonly are ; for she usually remains silent during the attempts of the others to sing each other down, and prefers singing at night when the others are for the most part silent. We have also re- * Brit. Zool. ii. 335. + Oiseaux, Intr. | Sylva Sylvarum, p. 56, ed. fol. 1664. § Hist. Anim. iv. 9. || Phil. Trans, lxii. 262 HABITS OF BIRDS. marked in birds reared from the nest, that the females will record , as it is termed, the first rehearsal ( inex - pertum carmen , as Statius gives it in his ‘ Sylvae,’) warbling in the low preluding manner peculiar to all birds some time before coming into full song. This was particularly the case with the green-birds just mentioned, and one female green-bird will at present record in a similar manner, while her brother of the same age begins to sing in good earnest*. Mr. Sweet, the well-known botanical writer, and author of the ‘ British Warblers,’ says that “ females seldom sing : I had a female red-start, which sang a little ; and female bulfinches sing as frequently as the males.” Again, Mr. Sweet says, “ I have had several female birds, which never attempted to sing ; but now I have two that sing frequently ; one is a female black-cap ; she sings a note peculiar to her¬ self, and not the least like the male, or any other bird with which I am acquainted. I kept her several years before she began to sing. I have also a female willow-wren, that sings nearly as much as the cock ; this bird was bred up from the nest, and did not sing at all the first year. Her note is quite different from that of the male, but resembles it sufficiently to indi¬ cate that it belongs to the same species f.” “ In nightingales,” says M. Montbeillard, “as in other species, there are females which enjoy some prero¬ gatives of the male, and particularly participate of his song. I saw a female of that sort which was tame ; her warble resembled that of the male, yet neither so full nor so varied ; she retained it until spring, when resuming the character of the sex, she exchanged it for the occupation of building her nest and laying her eggs, though she had no mate. It * J. R. t Magazine of Nat. Hist. i. 346. SONGS. 263 would seem that in warm countries, as in Greece, such females are pretty common, both in this species and many others; at least this is implied in a pas¬ sage of Aristotle*.” Aldrovand, in deducing lessons of morality from this bird, thinks the female ought to be imitated in her silence by women, who “ in his time,” on the contrary, “ were loquacious, babbling, verbose, garrulous, talkative, tonguy, and never kept secrets f.’’ With respect, again, to Mr. Barrington’s inference that the want of song in the female is for the pur¬ pose of concealing the eggs, Mr. Sweet further says, “ I certainly have never heard a thrush sing when sitting',” (as had been asserted by a correspondent in a recent periodical work,) “ perhaps for want of attend¬ ing to it ; but I have frequently heard and seen the male black-cap sing while sitting on the eggs, and have found its nest by it more than once ; the male ol this species sitting nearly as much as the female j.” These well-authenticated facts, as well as more that we could adduce, are fatal to the theory. St. Ambrose, on the other hand, asserts that “ the nightingale by the sweetness of her song solaces her¬ self during the long nights in which she is hatching her eggs, watchful and sleepless §.’’ Another hypothesis advocated by several naturalists, and adopted by poets, is that the singing of birds is the language of courtship and affection. “ The song of male birds,” says Buffbn, “springs from the emo¬ tion of love : the canary in his cage, the green-bird in the fields, the oriole in the woods, chaunt their notes with a fond, sonorous voice, and their mates * Oiseaux, Art. Le Rosignol ; and Aristotle, iv. 9. f Loquacula*, argutulae, verbosse, dicaculae, linguaces, garrulao et arcanorum minime tenaces. — Ornithol. ii. 3-16. J Mag. of Nat. Hist. ii. 113. § Quoted by Aldrovaud as above. 2G4 HABITS OF BIRDS. reply in more feeble strains.” He adds, what is by no means the fact, that “ the nightingale, when he first arrives in spring, is silent, begins with faltering, infrequent airs, and it is not till the dam sits on her eggs that he pours out the warm melody of his heart : then he relieves and soothes her tedious incubation ; then he redoubles his* caresses, and warbles with deeper pathos*.” On the contrary, we uniformly observe, among the innumerable nightingales which annually arrive in our neighbourhood in spring, that the males sing out in as full clear notes on their first appearance (usually many days before the arrival of the females) as they ever do afterwards f- Button concludes that his opinion derives additional support from the circumstance of song-birds becoming silent, or their notes being less sweet, after the breeding season is over J. Another naturalist of eminence, Colonel Mon¬ tagu, is more circumstantial in his arguments for the same opinion, and though we do not agree altogether with his explanations, the greater number of his facts are unquestionable. “ The males of song-birds,” he says, “ and many others, do not in general search for the female ; but, on the contrary, their business in the spring is to perch on some conspicuous spot, breath¬ ing out their full notes, which, by instinct, the female knows, and repairs to the spot to choose her mate. This is particularly verified with respect to the sum¬ mer-birds of passage. The nightingale, and most of its genus, although timid and shy to a great degree, mount aloft, and incessantly pour forth their strains, each seemingly vying in its love-laboured song before the females arrive. No sooner do they make their appearance than dreadful battles ensue, and their * Oiseaux, Intr. f J. R. f Oiseaux, as above. SONGS. 265 notes are considerably changed ; sometimes their song is hurried through without the usual grace and ele¬ gance ; at other times modulated into a soothing melody. The first we conceive to be a provocation to battle on the sight of another male ; the last an amorous cadence, or courting address. This variety of song lasts no longer than till the female is fixed in her choice, which is, in general, in a few days after her arrival ; and if the season is favourable, she soon begins the task allotted to her sex. “ The male now no more exposes himself to sing as before, nor are his songs heard so frequently or so loud ; but while she is searching for a secure place to build her nest in, he is no less assiduous in attend¬ ing- her with ridiculous gestures, accompanied with notes peculiarly soft. When the female has chosen a spot for nidification, the male constantly attends her flight to and from the place, and sits upon some branch near, while his mate instinctively places the small portion of material she each time brings to rear a commodious fabric for her intended brood. When the building is complete, and she has laid her portion of eggs, incubation immediately takes place. The male is now heard loud again, but not near so fre¬ quently as at first; he never rambles from her hear¬ ing, and seldom from her sight ; if she leaves her nest, he soon perceives it, and pursues her, some¬ times accompanied with soft notes of love. When the callow brood appears, he is instantly apprized of it, either by instinct, or by the female carrying away the fragment shells to some distant place. The male is now' no more heard in tuneful glee, unless a second brood should force the amorous song again ; his whole attention is now taken up in satisfying the nutrimental calls of his tender infant race, which he does with no less assiduity than his mate, carrying them food, and returning frequently with the muting 2 A 266 HABITS OF BIRDS. of the young in his beak, which is dropped at a dis¬ tance from the nest*.” Plausible as this reasoning seems to be, it will not be difficult to adduce numerous facts with which it will not accord. It is not indeed a correct statement of the fact, to say that birds sing only during the seasons of pairing and breeding, as Buffon and Montagu assume. This is the case with the greater number of the seed-eating song-birds, both wild and tame; but not with the soft-billed birds. We have not many of these resident with us during winter, the greater number migrating to more southern latitudes, where they can find an abundant supply of insects and fruits; but all of those which do winter with us continue more or less in song after having moulted. The most conspicuous and best known of these autumnal and winter sono;-birds is the red-breast. Both Montagu and White are in error when they say this bird “sings throughout the winter except in severe weather” or “during frost”; for though con¬ tinued frost or snow, by depriving it of a due supply of food, may render it silent, we can answer for the fact of having, not once, but frequently, heard the red-breast singing as merrily during sharp frost, as in the heyday of summer or in the mild sunshine of autumn. A much smaller and more delicate bird, the wren ( Anortliura communis ), also sings in all weathers during the autumn and winter, as well as the little dunnock (. Accentor modularis ) ; and they are frequently accompanied by the thrush and the black¬ bird. Though the latter do not sing so long and so frequently as in summer, this appears to be more on account of the physical languor arising from a precarious supply of food than from its not being the pairing season. That what has been stated is not peculiar to the milder weather of the southern eoun- * Ornithological Diet., Intr. 1st ed.; p. 476, 2d ed. SONGS. 267 tries, is proved by the same thing’ occurring in the north. In notes of observations made at Mussel¬ burgh in 1818, we find the following: “ On the :26th October, heard a thrush in the morning singing in an orchard in as sprightly a manner as if it had been in April; and again in the evening of the same day, heard another thrush singing on the banks of the Esk at some miles distant from the orchard.” — “ On the 8th December observed a wren singing in the same orchard at day-break, and it was answered by a hedge-sparrow” {Accentor modular is). While writing this paragraph (Jan. 18, 183:2) a song-thrush is singing in a hedge opposite our window as finely as if it were May*. “ We have one little bird,” says Mr. Knapp, “the woodlark ( Alauda arborea), that in the early parts of the autumnal months delights us with its harmony; and its carols may be heard in the air commonly during the calm sunny mornings of this season. They have a softness and quietness perfectly in uni¬ son with the sober, almost melancholy, stillness of the hour. The skylark also sings now, and its song is very sweet, full of harmony, cheerful as the blue skv and gladdening beam in which it circles and sports, and known and admired by all ; but the voice of the woodlark is local, not so generally heard from its softness, must almost be listened for, to be distin¬ guished, and has not any pretensions to the hilarity of the former. This little bird sings likewise in the spring ■[.” In addition, we have not a doubt that all our little summer visitants, from the whitethroat to the night¬ ingale, continue in song during the winter in the countries to which they migrate. M. Savigny, who observed the whitethroat in Egypt}, mentions * J. R. f Journ. of a Naturalist, p. 265, 3rd edit. I Grand Ouvrage sur l'Egypt, Part Zool. p. 27f. 268 HABITS OF BIRDS. its singing on the wing, as it does with us during summer. M. Sonnini indeed says that nightingales, which “ live during the winter in the verdant and smiling plains of Lower Egypt, and perhaps also on the coasts of Syria and Barbary, during their passage and their stay on these foreign shores, do not warble those melodious songs, those varied and brilliant modulations, with which they night and day make our woods resound, inasmuch as they do not busy themselves with pairing and breeding : they are silent, because they require not to sing of love*” Yet we cannot help thinking that his observations were partly biassed by the theory with which he follows them up, more particularly as we have the testimony of M. Le Marie to the fact of the nightin¬ gale singing in Africa f. When these birds, again, are kept in cages or avia¬ ries in Europe during the winter, they sing as well as the red-breasts and the wrens out of doors; another strong proof of the incorrectness of M. Sonnini’s remark. We have for two winters possessed a male black-cap ( Sylvia atricapilla) , which begins to war¬ ble in autumn about the time the red-breasts come into our gardens, and perch upon houses to sing. Towards Christmas it comes into full song, piping so shrilly at times as to be rather too much for our ears to bear with pleasure. This, however, is at least three or four months before the usual time of pairing, and hence it is fair to conclude, that the pairing is not the cause of its singing, no more than the same circumstance will account for the winter soims of the red-breast and other soft-billed birds, which are continued in the fields as well as by those which are tamed Mr. Sweet, who has successfully kept most of our * Voyages, ii. 401 . f Quoted by Montbeillard, Ois, art. Rosignol. J J.R. SONGS. 269 summer visitants for several years, finds that they uniformly sing during the winter. Of the white-throat ( Curruca cinerea , Brisson) he says, “ One that I at present possess will sing for hours together against a nightingale, now in the beginning of January, and it will not suffer itself to be outdone.” Of the wheatear ( Saxicola cenanthe, Bechstein), he says, “ A pair that I possess at present were caught in September last; began to sing in a few days, and have continued in song ever since ; and now, while writing this, the 22d day of December, they are in full song.” Of the nightingale, he says, “ It will beoin sinffino* at the commencement of December, and continue till June. I had a very fine one that only left off singing the latter end of June; it began again a little in September, and by the 1st of De¬ cember it was in full song*.” Pennant was of opinion that it is chiefly the young- male red-breasts of the preceding summer which sing during autumn and winter f. This opinion, if true, would certainly be adverse to the theory of Buffon and Colonel Montagu ; but the thrushes above stated to have been heard singing in October, were not young ones, these being readily distinguish¬ able, when they first attempt to sing’, by particular notes, resembling the following The recording of young birds is indeed always very different from their song, as is also the warble of old birds after moulting, as M. Bechstein has justly remarked. “ It is,” he says, “ a very striking * British Warblers. + Brit. Zool. ii. 147. % J. R. 2 A 3 270 HABITS OF BIRDS. circumstance, that birds which continue in song nearly the whole year, such as the red-breast, the siskin, and the goldfinch, are obliged, after their moulting is over, to record , as if they had forgot their song. I am convinced, however, that this exercise is less a study than an endeavour to bring the organs of voice into proper flexibility, what they utter being properly only a sort of warble, of which the notes have almost no resemblance to the perfect song ; and, by a little attention, we may perceive how the throat is gradually brought to emit the notes of the usual song. This view, then, leads us to ascribe the circumstance not to defect of memory, but rather to a roughness in the vocal organs, arising from disuse. It is in this way that the chaffinch ( Fringilla spizd) makes endeavours during several successive weeks before attaining to its former perfection, and that the nightingale ( Sylvia luscinia) tries, for a long time, to model the strophes of its superb song before it can produce the full extent of compass and brilliance It might be alleged, indeed, that the old birds who sing in autumn, are influenced by association, inas¬ much as this season resembles the spring ; for though spring is all youth and verdure, while autumn wears the aspect of decline, and woods and fields, instead of lively green, display nothing but sombre tints of yellow and brown, yet the temperature of the air has much the same mildness, and food is equally if not more abundant. This, however, is a very partial view, with which the continuance of these autumnal songs during winter is altogether inconsistent. Colonel Montagu, however, endeavours to obviate the objection by some ingenious arguments; and, in support of the general theory, he brings forward experiments tried by himself for that express purpose. “ The continuation of song,” he says, “ in caged * Ornithologisches Taschenbuch, Vor. SONGS. 271 birds, by no means proves it is not occasioned by a stimulus to love ; indeed, it is likely the redundancy of animal matter, from plenty of food and artificial heat, may produce it ; and this is sufficient for con¬ tinuing- their song longer than birds in their natural wild state, because they have a constant stimulus ; whereas wild birds have it abated bv a commerce V with the other sex, by which, and other causes, it is prevented. It is true wild birds are heard to sing sometimes in the middle of winter, when the air is mild, animated by the genial warmth of the sun, which acts as a stimulus. But we shall now proceed to show, by experiments, that birds in their natural state may be forced to continue their song much longer than usual. A male red-start made its ap¬ pearance near my house early in the spring, and soon commenced his love-tuned song. In two days after, a female arrived, which for several days the male was continually chasing, emitting soft inter¬ rupted notes, accompanied by a chattering noise. This sort of courting lasted for several days, soon after which the female took possession of a hole in a wall close to my house, where it prepared a nest and deposited six eggs. The male kept at a distance from the nest, and sometimes sang, but not so loud or so frequently as at first, and never when he ap¬ proached nearer his mate. When the eggs had been sat on a few days, I endeavoured to catch the female on the nest, but she escaped through my hand. II owever, she soon returned, and I caught her. The male did not immediately miss his mate ; but on the next day he renewed his vociferous calls, and his song became incessant for a week, when I discovered a second female ; his note immediately changed, and all his actions as before returned. This experiment has been repeated with the nightin¬ gale with the same success ; and a golden-crested 272 HABITS OF BIRDS. wren, who never found another mate, continued his song from the month of May till the latter end of August. On the contrary, another of the same species, who took possession of a fir-tree in my garden, ceased its notes as soon as the young were hatched *” To us, however, this explanation of the facts appears too partial and contracted, the song of the birds being more naturally accounted for, as we think, from the state of their spirits than by the sup¬ position of its having been meant as the language of courtship ; and, accordingly, it does not consist with our observation that the state of the weather has much influence upon them, except in so far as it may affect their supply of food ; and hence it is that caged birds remain much longer in song than if they were at large in the fields. We have further remarked, and it agrees with the experience of Mr. Sweet and others who keep tame birds, that the male will sing better, and for a longer period, when there is a female of his own species in the same cage than when he is alone t; whereas, according to Colonel Montagu’s explanation of his experiments, namely, that the song is uttered chiefly to attract the female to the vicinity, this circumstance ought not to take place. The theory in question has been opposed by another which maintains the peculiar notes of various song-birds to be derived from imitation. The Hon. Daines Barrington tried a number of experiments for the purpose of supporting this latter notion, which it may prove interesting to give in his own words : — “ I have educated nestling linnets,” says he, “ under the three best singing larks, the skylark, woodlark, and titlark, every one of which, instead o* * Ornith. Diet, Intr. first ed. ; p.477, second ed, f J. R. SONGS. 273 the linnet’s song, adhered entirely to that of their respective instructors. “ When the note of the titlark linnet was thoroughly fixed, I hung the bird in a room with two common linnets, for a quarter of a year, which were full in song ; the titlark linnet, however, did not borrow any passage from the linnet’s song, but adhered sted- fastly to that of the titlark. “ I had some curiosity to find out whether a Eu¬ ropean nestling would equally learn the note of an African bird; I therefore educated a young linnet under a Vengolina ( Linaria Angolcnsis , Brisson), which imitated its African master so exactly, without any mixture of the linnet’s song, that it was im¬ possible to distinguish the one from the other. “ This Vengolina linnet was absolutely perfect without ever uttering a single note by which it could have been known to be a linnet. In some of my other experiments, however, the nestling linnet re¬ tained the call of its own species, or what the bird- catchers term the linnet’s chuckle , from some resem¬ blance to that word when pronounced. “ All my nestling linnets were three weeks old when taken from the nest ; and by that time they frequently learn their own call from the parent birds, which consists of only a single note. “ To be certain, therefore, that a nestling will not have even the call of its species, it should be taken from the nest when only a day or two old ; because though nestlings cannot see till the seventh day, yet they can hear from the instant they are hatched, and probably, from that circumstance, attend to sounds more than they do afterwards, especially as the call of the parents announces the arrival of their food. “ 1 must own that I am not equal myself, nor can I procure any person to take the trouble of breeding up a bird of this age, as the odds against its being 274 HABITS OF BIRDS. reared are almost infinite. The warmth, indeed, of incubation may be, in some measure, supplied by cotton and fires; but these delicate animals require, in this state, being' fed almost perpetually, whilst the nourishment they receive should not only be prepared with great attention, but given in very small portions at a time. “ Though I must admit, therefore, that I have not reared myself a bird of so tender an age, yet I have happened to see both a linnet and a goldfinch which were taken from their nests when only two or three days old. “ The first of these belonged to Mr. Matthews, an apothecary at Kensington, which, from a want of other sounds to imitate, almost articulated the words j)retty boy , as weli as some other short sentences. I heard the bird myself repeat the words pretty boy ; and Mr. Matthews assured me that he had neither the note or call of any bird whatsoever. “This talking linnet died last year; and many persons went from London to hear him speak. “ The R'oldfinch I have before mentioned was reared in the town of Knighton, in Radnorshire, which I happened to hear as I was walking by the house where it was kept. “ I thought, indeed, that a wren was singing, and I went into the house to inquire after it, as that little bird seldom lives long in a cage. “ The people of the house, however, told me that they had no bird but a goldfinch, which they con¬ ceived to sing its own natural note, as they called it; upon which I stayed a considerable time in the room, whilst its notes were merely those of a wren without the least mixture of goldfinch. “ On further inquiries, I found that the bird had been taken from the nest when only two or three days old, — that it was hung in a window which was SONGS. opposite to a small garden, whence the nestling had undoubtedly acquired the notes of the wren, without having any opportunity of learning even the call of the goldfinch. “ These facts which I have stated seem to prove, very decisively, that birds have not any minute ideas of the notes which are supposed to be peculiar to each species. But it will possibly be asked, why, in a wild state, they adhere so steadily to the same song, insomuch that it is well known, before the bird is heard, what notes you are to expect from him. “ This, however, arises entirely from the nestling’s attending only to the instruction of the parent bird, whilst it disregards the notes of all others which may perhaps be singing round him. “ Young canary birds are frequently reared in a room where there are many other sorts, and yet I have been informed that they only learn the song of the parent cock. “ Every one knows that the common house-spar¬ row, when in a wild state, never does anything but chirp ; this, however, does not arise from want of powers in this bird to imitate others, but because he only attends to the parental note. “ But, to prove this decisively, I took a common sparrow from the nest, when it was fledged, and educated him under a linnet; the bird, however, by accident, heard a goldfinch also ; and his song was, therefore, a mixture of the linnet and goldfinch. “ 1 have tried several experiments in order to observe from what circumstances birds fix upon any particular note when taken from the parents, but cannot settle this with any sort of precision, any more than at what period of their recording they determine upon the song to which they will adhere. “ I educated a young robin under a very fine nightingale, which, however, began already to be out 27G HABITS OF BIRDS. of song1, and was perfectly mute in less than a fort¬ night. “ This robin afterwards sung three parts in four nightingale ; and the rest of his song was what the bird-catchers call rubbish, or no particular note whatsoever. “ I hung this robin nearer to the nightingale than to any other bird ; from which first experiment I conceived, that the scholar would imitate the master which was at the least distance from him. “ From several experiments, however, which I have since tried, I find it to be very uncertain what notes the nestling will most attend to, and often their song is a mixture ; as in the instance which I have before stated of the sparrow. “ I must own also, that I conceived from the ex¬ periment of educating the robin under a nightingale, that the scholar would fix upon the note which it first heard when taken from the nest; i imagined like¬ wise that, if the nightingale had been fully in song, the instruction for a fortnight would have been sufficient. “ I have, however, since tried the following expe¬ riment, which convinces me so much depends upon circumstances and perhaps caprice in the scholar, that no general inference or rule can be laid down with regard to either of these suppositions. “ I educated a nestling robin under a woodlark- linnet, which was full in song and hung very near to him for a month together ; after which the robin was removed to another house, where he could only hear a skylark-linnet. The consequence was that the nestling did not sing a note of woodlark (though I afterwards hung him again just above the woodlark- linnet), but adhered entirely to the song of the sky¬ lark-linnet*.” * Philosophical Transactions, vol. lxiii. SONGS. 277 These opinions did not originate with Barrington, for we find it asserted by lather Kircher, that “ the young nightingales which are hatched under other birds, never sing till they are instructed by other nightingales* * * § and the author of the ‘ Physicce Curi- osae’ saysf, that the young are taught to sing by their mothers, — both following Aristotle, who says of the nightingale, “ she seems indeed to instruct her young ones, and to repeat to them certain passages for their imitation, as the language does not come naturally in the same manner as the voice, but must be acquired by exercise and study J.” The same view has been adopted by a recent Danish naturalist, M. Gamborg§ ; and the Hon. and llev. W. H. Herbert gives a similar statement, which, from his experience in keeping cage-birds, is entitled to our best consideration. “ The nightingale,” he remarks, “ is peculiarly apt, in its first year, when confined, to learn the song of any other bird that it hears. Its beautiful song is the result of I0112; attention to the melody of other birds of its species. The young whin- chat, wheatear, and others of the genus Saxicola, which have little natural variety of song, are no less ready, in confinement, to learn from other species, and become as much better songsters, as the nightin¬ gale degenerates, by borrowing from others. The bull-finch, whose natural notes are weak, harsh, and insignificant, has a greater facility than any other bird of learning human music. It is pretty evident that the Germans, who bring vast numbers of them to Lon¬ don, which they have taught to pipe, must have in¬ structed them more by whistling to them than by an * Musurgia, Cap. De Lusciniis. f Page 1200. + Hist. Anim. iv. 49. § Comment peut ou parvenir a perl’ectionner le Chant des Oiseauxde nos BoisP 8vo. Copenhague, 1800. 2 B 278 HABITS OF BIRDS. organ, and that these instructions have been accom¬ panied by a motion of the head and body in accord¬ ance with the time, which habit the birds also ac¬ quire, and is, no doubt, of great use to them in re¬ gulating their song. The canary-bird, whose song, in its artificial state in Europe, is a compound of notes acquired from other birds, is able to learn the song of the nightingale, but is not able to exe¬ cute it with the same power as the nightingale itself. I have never heard one that sung it quite correctly, but I have heard it approach near enough to prove that, with more careful education, it might learn it right. Those who have taken the most pains about it, have been contented with placing under nightin¬ gales young canaries, as soon as they can feed themselves ; but such will necessarily have learned part at least of their parent’s song. The linnet and linnet-mule are said to be able to come nearer the ex¬ ecution of the nightingale, when properly instructed. The best way would be to use an experienced hen canary-bird, who will rear her young without the cock, and to take the cock away before the young ones are hatched : or to set the canary eggs under a hen paired with a gold-finch, which, kept in a darkish situ¬ ation, will probably not sing; to remove the cock, at all events, if it sings, as soon as possible ; to place the young birds very close to the singing nightingale ; and, as soon as practicable, to remove the hen canary also. The rearing of the canary-bird by hand, even from the egg, has been accomplished by artificial heat and unremit ting care. Birds learn the song of others most readily when they are not in song them¬ selves, and when they are darkened and covered, so that their attention is not distracted ; for birds are amused by what they see as much as we are, when not alarmed by it. I had once a tame white-throat, which, when let out of its cage, appeared to take SONGS. 279 the greatest pleasure in minutely examining the figured patterns of the chair-covers, perhaps expect¬ ing to find something eatable among the leaves ol the pattern. I reared a black-cap and some white- throats, taken when a fortnight old, under a singing nightingale, and removed all other singing birds, but they sung their wild notes pretty truly; on the other hand, a black-cap, two years old, from hearing a nightingale sing a great deal, acquired two passages from its song, and executed them correctly, though not very powerfully. I understand that the robin, reared in a cage, is not observed to learn from other birds, but sings the wild note pretty accurately. I can at present suggest no key to these diversities ; nor do I understand why the young nightingale, taken when the old birds cease to sing, will, in con¬ finement, learn the note of other birds, and retain them, although it may hear its own species sing again as soon as they recommence in the autumn ; and yet, at liberty, with the same cessation of the parental song, it would have learned nothing else; unless it be that from want of other amusement, it listens more when it is confined But though we were to grant all the facts stated by these authors to be rigidly correct, we should not be disposed to adopt their conclusion, which is plainly opposed by other facts within the power of every observer to verify. We do not, however, believe Kircher’s story of nestling birds hatched un¬ der other birds never attempting to sing, any more than we should believe that a human infant in like manner deprived of the care of its own species would speak Hebrew or high Dutch. “ A sky¬ lark,” it has been stated, “ was taken from the nest before it was fledged and reared by the hand in town. * Notes to White’s Selborne, edit. Svo. 1832. 280 HABITS OF BIRDS. where it could not hear any of its own species ; yet when it was grown, its song was not distinguish¬ able from those in a wild state. Could it have ac¬ quired these notes, while in the nest, from the parent bird, in a similar way to what Dr. Darwin supposed infants to acquire a taste for Hogarth’s line of beauty by fondling on their mothers' bosom*? and could it have retained this musique de berce.au (cradle music) in its memory for more than six months without ever attempting, as the birds’-men express it, even to record. There is one curious, though very anoma¬ lous fact, which might be adduced in support of this view. The celebrated Dr. Rush of Philadelphia was called to visit the Countess of L — L — L who was in a high fever. In her delirium, she uttered a num¬ ber of outlandish speeches, which one of the attend¬ ants recognised to be pure Welsh. The Doctor was struck with the singularity of the circumstance, as the Countess, he was told, did not understand a word of Welsh. On inquiry, however, he found that she had been nursed by a Welsh woman, but had been removed before she could articulate a word, and had not heard Welsh spoken from that time till she had been seized with the fever f. But a solitary and anomalous fact like this will not authorize us to conclude that the young skylark retained in like manner the song of its field nurse J.” The theorists who maintain that the songs of birds are acquired by individual imitation, find no little difficulty in accounting for the uniformity which usually prevails among the notes of those of the same species. They tell us that the young birds learn the song of the parent birds by associating exclusively * Zoonomia, § xvi. c. 1. p. 201. f American Museum, July, 1787. + J. Rennie on the Singing of Birds, Edinb, Mag. Jan. 1819, p. 10. SONGS. 281 with them before they can provide for themselves, and that afterwards they frequent the same places as the rest of their kind ; but, unfortunately for this explana¬ tion, the fact is that song-birds for the most part be¬ come silent after their young are hatched. Neither is it true, that song-birds associate exclusively with their own species, and, although they did, it would not follow that they never hear other birds. Ilow then does it happen, since they are, by the theory, so prone to imitation, that they never in a wild state inter¬ mingle the notes of others with those peculiar to their own species? Upon the principles of the theory every bird ought to be a polyglot. We have in many instances verified the experi¬ ments of Barrington on caged birds, most of which when young will readily learn the notes of the birds in the same room. We have, for example, at present, a young cock green-bird ( Fringilla chloris, Tem- minck), which from hearing the call of the sparrows out of doors has acquired it perfectly, and from hanging near a black-cap, he has also learned many of its notes, though he executes them indifferently, perhaps from deficiency of voice. He has more re¬ cently attempted some of the notes of a robin whose cage hangs under his. Yet notwithstanding that he has thus learned part of the notes of three or four different birds, he can also utter the peculiar call-note of his own species, though we are pretty certain he has not heard it uttered since he left his parents’ nest when only a few days old. But no wild green-bird ever learns in this manner the notes of various species, nor would our bird, we are well convinced, had he not been kept stationary in the cage, and conse¬ quently had the notes he has learned daily sounding in his ears, till he could not forget them. In a wild state, he would either have kept at a distance from other species, or would not have attended to them ; 2 b 3 282 HABITS OF BIRDS. whereas, in the cage, he could not avoid hearing the sparrows, the black-cap, and the red-breast*. Mr. Sweet is an advocate for the theory we are considering, from having observed similar facts with¬ out having adverted to the different circumstances in which wild and caged birds are placed. Of the red-start ( Sylvia Phcenicurus ), he says, “ it may be taught to sing any tune that is whistled or sung to it: one that I was in possession of for some years back, learnt the Copenhagen waltz, that it had frequently heard sung, only it would sometimes stop in the middle and say chipjmt, a name by which it was generally called, and which it would repeat every time I entered the room where it was, either by night or by dayt-” M. Bechstein asserts, that the red-start “ knows how to embellish its natural song (composed of several rather pretty strophes), by adding the notes of other birds with which it associates. One which had built under the eaves of my house imitated pretty closely a caged chaffinch in the window underneath ; and my neighbour had another in his garden, which repeated some of the notes of a black-cap that had a nest hard by. This facility of appropriating the song of other birds, is rare in a wild state, and appears to be almost confined to this species*.” Even this anomalous instance may be easily explained on the principle we have stated, for the red-start having its nest near where the caged chaffinch was stationed was forced to hear its notes till they were impressed on its memory. The researches of comparative anatomy have thrown much light upon the peculiar structure of song-birds, though there remain still many points of interest for future investigation. This indeed, as * J. R. f British Warblers, in loco. J Taschenbuch, Art. Rothschwanzchen. SONGS. 283 we have already remarked, was a subject taken up by the earlier naturalists* ; and most of their obser¬ vations have been confirmed and extended by John Hunter, Girardi t, Vicq d’Azyr Malacarne §, Ba¬ ron Cuvier ||, and Ranzani^f. Amongst other curious facts, it is stated in Clayton’s Letters from Virginia, that Dr. Moulin discovered that in birds, contrary to what takes place in man and in quadrupeds, there is almost a direct passage from one ear to the other, so that, if the drum ( tympanum ) of both ears be pierced, water, when poured in, will pass from the one to the other. There is no spiral shell (cochlea), but a small passage which opens into a cavity formed by two plates of bone, that constitute a double skull all round the head. The outer plate of bone is sup¬ ported by many hundreds of small thread-like columns, or rather fibres. Now this passage was observed to be much larger in singing-birds than in others that do not sing, — so very remarkably so, that any person to whom the difference has once been shown, may easily judge by the head what bird has the faculty of singing, though he may be otherwise ignorant of its habits**. We have not seen any notice of this singular circumstance by any other inquirer. The remarks of Syme upon this subject are ap¬ propriate, and, so far as we know, correct. “ The notes,’’ he tells us, “ of soft-billed birds are finely toned, mellow, and plaintive; those of the hard-billed species are sprightly, cheerful, and rapid. This dif¬ ference proceeds from the construction of the vocal organs. Asa large pipe of an organ produces a * See page 225, et seq. f Oposcoli Scelti di Milano, viii. 88. + Mem. Acad, des Sciences, pour 1779. § Mem. della Societa Ital. iv. 18. [| Anat. Comp. iv. 454. Elem. di Zoologia, iii. 1. p. 35,4to. Bologna, 1821. ** Miscellanea Curiosa, iii. 291. 284 HABITS OF BIRDS. deeper and more mellovv-toned note than a small pipe, so the windpipe of the nightingale, which is wider than that of the canary, sends forth a deeper and more mellow-toned note. Soft-billed birds, also, sing more from the lower part of the throat than the hard-billed species. This, together with the greater width of the tube in the nightingale and other soft- billed warblers, fully accounts for their soft, round, mellow notes, compared with the shrill, sharp, and clear notes of the canary and other hard-billed song¬ birds Most poets, in accordance with these remarks, have represented the notes of the nightingale as plaintive and sorrowful, though others have also spoken of them as sprightly and cheerful. Hence, to use the words of Lord Byron, “ it has been much doubted whether the notes of this ‘ lover of the rose’ are sad or merry f.” This poet, indeed, has decided the matter most correctly when he says, u Though his note is somewhat sad , He’ll try for once a strain more glad J.” Looking upon this as the true state of the case, we are not much disposed to go into this apparently idle controversy; but the representations which the poets have given of the nightingale’s song must interest every lover of nature, and therefore we shall select a few, were it only to repel a strange and unwarrantable misrepresentation by a recent periodical writer, who signs himself Anti-Philomel, of the