W. S. Dallas

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION—WING-STRUCTURE AND FEATHERS—DISTRIBUTION.

Introduction—Distinctive Characters of the Class Aves—Power of Flight—The Wing—Its Structure—The Six Zoo-geographical Regions of the Earth—Birds peculiar to these Regions.

THE study of birds is almost an instinct in an Englishman: from peasant to noble, an innate affection for the feathered songsters seems to prevail; so that whether it be in a stately aviary or in a little cage outside a cottage door, birds are found to be the constant companions of man throughout the length and breadth of the land. And it is possible that no other country in the world possesses such a number of birds, in proportion to its size, as does Great Britain. Any one travelling on the continent of Europe cannot fail to notice how few birds meet his eye; and although they may be there, and may be found by a little searching for, they do not form such a prominent feature of a walk as they do in England or Scotland. Even the toiler in large towns has but to get a little way into the nearest fields to hear the cheering song of the Skylark or the Thrush, or to be amused with the bustling and active habits of the Starling, or those of the more sedate and cautious Rook. It is certain that a study of the habits of birds will always repay the student, who may see in the feathered favourites which are around him many a little bright example to be followed, if he read the lesson aright. Birds teach us many things—perseverance, fidelity, parental affection, thrift, cleanliness, and many other domestic virtues, which are to be seen carried out in their life in the greatest perfection. In the following pages the birds will be passed in review, and the habits of some of the most striking and important forms will be detailed. But, although every species and genus cannot be noticed here, it is necessary to assure the student that in every country—even in England, where so much has been done for Ornithology—he will find an ample reward in the study of all birds; and that even the commonest species cannot be neglected, for there is always something new to learn and to record in their life-history. To quote Dr. A. E. Brehm, one of the most accomplished observers of nature, who, carefully trained by his father, a true naturalist also, has studied the feathered tribes in many climes:—

“He who is only half at home with nature on this earth of ours will be able approximately to appreciate the feelings with which the naturalist wanders and travels from place to place: wherever he may be he finds friendly forms. For years he has silently watched the interior economy and household arrangements of animated nature, and yet he has not seen all; and on this account he is never in want of employment. Every bird is a personal friend: the old ones he knows almost as well as he knows himself, and the new ones must be studied. How much more is there yet to observe! Rich as he may be in experiences, every fresh ramble brings him fresh mental treasure. The relations existing between him and the bird become each day more and more intimate; he knows the lives and habits of each: when each arrives, or takes its departure: where is its abode: how it is made: when it is occupied by a happy troop of nestlings: when deserted. The naturalist knows his friends by their notes, flight, and bearing. In his eye the bird never ceases to exist: alive or dead it is always interesting in his eyes, for in either case the bird is associated with a poesy of feeling in creative nature which he would put into words. Every new bird raises his spirits a step higher; every fresh discovery is a step onward in the knowledge of the ways and means of all things. He is indebted to his friends for many a happy hour; their lives are a pattern worthy of imitation.”[132]

Here, then, we may ask—What is a bird? How can a bird be told from all other Vertebrate animals? The chief character which distinguishes the class of birds is undoubtedly the clothing of the body with feathers. Other characters they also possess, but not exclusively. For instance, they have the power of flight developed in the greatest degree: but there are some birds, such as the Apteryx, the Ostrich, and the Cassowary, which cannot fly at all; while, on the other hand, there are flying mammals, such as Bats, Flying Squirrels, and there are flying reptiles, which can progress through the air by means of flight. Again, birds lay the eggs from which they produce their young; but so do many reptiles and fish: so that this cannot be considered a prerogative of the class of birds. Their bill is hard and sheathed in horn; but so is that of the Duck-billed Platypus (page 231), an animal belonging to the Monotreme Mammals; and Turtles also have beaks. Most, but not all, birds build nests; and in this they stand almost alone among the higher animals; but nest-building propensities are developed in many of the Mammalia—in the Lemurs and Mice, for instance—while it cannot be assigned as a habit peculiar to birds, as the wonderful nests made by some fish conclusively prove.

All birds, whether they fly or not, are clothed with feathers, and this distinguishes the class Aves in the existing state of nature. The majority are specially adapted for flight: and as this is undoubtedly the most vigorous form of locomotion, the greatest muscular efforts being required to raise and sustain a body above the ground and to propel it rapidly through the air, a large development of muscular energy is necessary. The great strain on the circulation of the blood is met by a heart not only as complete as in the Mammalia, but with stronger and a peculiar valvular mechanism for propelling that fluid vigorously through the body. Moreover, in addition to their lungs, birds possess a singular provision of air-receptacles within the body, and these are connected with a series of cavities, also filled with air, which occupy the interior of most of the bones. These cavities serve not only to give lightness to the bird’s body, but they also assist the lungs in aËrating the blood, so that birds may be said to enjoy a double respiration. As birds exceed mammals in the activity of their breathing and circulatory system, so also they possess a higher degree of animal heat, their temperature ranging from 106° to 112° Fahr. This high temperature, which exceeds that of the Mammalia by from 8° to 14°, is maintained by its admirable feather-clothing, which, being a non-conductor, effectually serves to guard against any sudden variations of temperature in the air to which its body is exposed, during its rapid and extensive flights, as well as tempering the usual radiation from the body.

As one might expect in the fore-limb of a creature specially organised for suspension in, and progression through, the air, it is found that the muscles, as well as the bones and joints, of the bird’s wing become much modified as compared with the corresponding parts of other animals. With all our scientific knowledge and mechanical contrivances, no one has yet succeeded in constructing a flying machine. It is a significant fact that Nature has not only long ago solved this problem, but that she has done so in several ways. The flight of an insect, of a bird, of a bat, is equally perfect in its way: but in each case the result is attained by very different modifications in the skeletal and muscular apparatus. The principal resistance that a flying animal has to work against is its weight: that is, the force of gravity which, proportionately to its mass, tends to draw it down vertically towards the earth; hence the muscles which are largest and strongest in a bird are those which pull down the wing against the air, thereby raising the body and overcoming its weight.

BONES OF WING OF BIRD.
(After Sundevall.)

(a) Humerus; (B) Cubitus; (c) Ulna; (d) Radius; (E) Manus, or hand; (f) Carpus; (g, h, i) Metacarpus; (k) Pollex, or thumb; (l) Second digit; (m) Third digit.

The chief muscle thus employed is the “great pectoral,” attached to the large keel (or ridge) on the breast-bone, and inserted into the “humerus,” or “arm-bone.” This “great pectoral” is generally the largest muscle in the bird’s body, and in fact often equals in bulk all the other muscles put together.

The wing is opened out by straightening the elbow and the wrist-joints. The former process is effected by the contraction of the triceps; the latter chiefly by the action of the so-called “radial extensors,” and by the elasticity of the long “tensor,” or ligament, which comes from the shoulder muscles along the front border of the anterior wing-membrane, and is attached to the base of the thumb, at the front side of the wrist.

The wing is folded by the bending of the elbow and the adduction of the wrist-joints. The elbow is bent principally by the contraction of the “biceps” and the “internal brachial,” the wrist-joint chiefly by the contraction of the “hand-adductor,” and of the “ulnar wrist-flexor.”

As already stated, the possession of feathers is one of the most characteristic features in a bird. These beautiful structures are modifications of the skin, just as are the scales of the feet and the claws of the toes. Feathers and hairs, scales and claws, are all produced out of, and are modifications of, the cells of the upper skin, or epidermis, and of the under, or true skin, or cutis. The feathers differ much in their minute construction in some birds; and all those of a bird are of course not of the same size and shape, but they have the following parts in common.

FEATHERS OF WING OF BIRD.
(After Sundevall.)

(A) Feathers of the manus, or primary quills; (B) Feathers of the cubitus, or secondary quills; (C) Coverts of the manus, or primary-coverts; (D) Lesser primary-coverts; (E) Coverts of the cubitus, or secondary-coverts; (F) Median coverts; (G) Lesser coverts; (H) Feathers of the thumb, or bastard wing.

A feather consists of a quill, a shaft, barbs, and barbules: moreover, there may be a kind of accessory part, often in the shape of a downy tuft, close to the junction of the shaft and the quill. The shaft (scapus) or axis of every perfect feather (penna) is divided into the quill (calamus), the hollow cylinder (d), which is partly embedded in a sac of the skin, and the true shaft (rachis, a), which bears on each side the lateral processes called barbs (rami or radii). The rachis and the barbs together are known as the vane (vexillum), and, in fact, form what is commonly known as the “feather” in contradistinction to the “quill.” The barbs (c, c, c, c) are narrow plates, or laminÆ, “tapering to points at their free ends, and attached by their bases on each side of the rachis. The edges of these barbs are directed upwards and downwards, when the vexillum of the feather is horizontal The interstices between the barbs are filled up by the barbules, pointed processes, which stand in the same relation to the barbs as the barbs do to the rachis. The barbules themselves may be laterally serrated and terminated by little hooks, which interlock with the hooks of the opposed barbules. In very many birds each quill bears two vexilla; the second, called the aftershaft (b) (hyporachis), being attached on the under side of the first,”[133] close to the junction of the shaft with the quills.

In all the feathers of the RatitÆ, and in the case of all but the contour feathers in other birds, there are no barbules to the barbs. The pennÆ are ordinarily arranged in definite patches, or areas on the bird, and the shape and size of these, and their relation to one another, differ in many birds.

The aftershaft (b) is ordinarily a smaller vexillum, which is attached to the under side of the larger one at about the point where the rounded quill passes into the stem.

It is not necessary to notice these important characteristic structures more fully now, as they will have to be considered in explaining the distinctions between the great groups of birds, and we pass on to notice that the same kinds of birds are not found everywhere, but that they have, as groups, a remarkable geographical distribution.

In the following pages the distribution of birds is often alluded to, although it will naturally be impossible to discuss, within these limits, all the various phases of the study which the geographical distribution of the feathered tribes opens up to us. At the same time sufficient evidence will be given to show that birds are not scattered without order over the earth, but are more or less restricted to certain spots.

PARTS OF A FEATHER. (After Nitzsch.)

The six natural history or distributional provinces into which the world is ordinarily divided by modern naturalists were determined, first of all, from the study of the birds; and in fixing the boundaries of each division the wading birds and many swimming birds must be left out of the question, as they are creatures of such very extensive flight, and wander almost from pole to pole. A natural region, therefore, can be marked only by its resident forms of bird life, or at the most by the birds which breed within its limits; and the six regions alluded to provide us with many excellent reasons for believing that they possess well-defined physical boundaries. No Capercailzie, for instance, was ever found out of the PalÆarctic[134] region, which comprises Europe and the greater part of Asia above the line of the Himalayas and the Yangtze-kiang River in China. This region is also characterised by a large number of Buntings, Warblers, Grouse, &c. In the Nearctic[135] region there is a certain similarity to the European and Siberian Avifauna, Grouse, Ptarmigan, Waxwings, Magpies, Ravens, &c., being commonly found throughout the two regions. North America possesses, however, several forms peculiar to itself, though it is by no means so rich in species as is the Neotropical[136] region, which commences south of a line drawn through Northern Mexico, and includes the whole of Central and Southern America. Within this large area are contained whole families of birds, such as Toucans, Mot-mots, the vast majority of the Humming-birds, Trogons, besides innumerable genera of Tanagers and other forms, so that this region is by far the richest in the world as regards bird life. The Ethiopian region embraces all Africa below the Sahara Desert and Madagascar: Plaintain-eaters, &c., are characteristic of this region. The Indian region skirts the PalÆarctic, and includes the remainder of Asia below the Himalayas and the Yangtze-kiang; the Malayan Peninsula, the Sunda Islands, and the Philippines, belong to this region, which contains all the finest Pheasants in the world, the Impeyan Pheasant from the Himalayas, the Tragopans, and the Lobed Pheasant of Borneo being most beautiful creatures. Lastly, between the islands of Bali and Lombok passes a deep sea boundary called “Wallace’s line,” which divides the Australian region from the Indian, and although these islands lie so close together, the great depth of the channel between them seems to mark them out as frontier lines of two ancient continents. Certain it is that the birds and animals on each side of Wallace’s line differ remarkably; and the Australian region, which includes all the Moluccas, New Guinea, and Oceania, in addition to the Australian continent and New Zealand, presents us with forms not found elsewhere, such as Birds of Paradise, Cassowaries, Lyre-birds, and a large variety of peculiar types. Many smaller divisions of the globe are now recognised, but the above are the main ones, which may occasionally be referred to in these pages.[137]

Many birds migrate, and the student of migration alone would find sufficient material there for the work of a lifetime; and it seems almost impossible to account for the instinct or other causes which bring birds regularly year by year to breed in the same haunts, and which drive them away at the same change of season. Why is it, for instance, that species of similar habits and form, and both visiting Europe in equal abundance, should occupy such different winter quarters? Yet the common Red-backed Shrike, or Butcher-bird (Lanius collyrio), when he is said to leave Europe, passes by the Nile Valley along the east coast of Africa down to the Cape, where he brings up a second brood of nestlings; while the Wood-Chat Shrike (Lanius auriculatus), a bird of about the same size and of precisely similar habits, proceeds down the Nile Valley and invades Abyssinia in the winter, and also occupies Senegambia, where a Red-backed Shrike has never been found yet by a naturalist. Nothing whatever is known by which route the bird gets to the Gambia: whether he follows the same one as his red-backed relation as far as Abyssinia, and then skirts the southern edge of the Sahara, or whether he reaches north-western Africa by a direct flight across the Great Desert. Many other such problems in the economy of our most familiar species are still awaiting further scientific research.

The Three Divisions of the Class Aves—ANATOMY OF A BIRD—The Skeleton—Distinctive Features—Peculiar Bone Character—The Skull—Difference between the Skull of Birds and that of Mammals—The Jawbones—Vertebral Column—Sternum—Fore-limbs—Hind-limbs—Toes—The Muscular System—How a Bird remains Fixed when Asleep—The Oil-gland—The Nervous System—The Brain—The Eye—The Ear—The Digestive System—The Dental papillÆ—The Beak—Tongue—Gullet—Crop—Stomach—Uses of the Gizzard—Intestine—The Liver, Pancreas, and Spleen—The Blood and Circulatory System—Temperature of Blood of a Bird—Blood Corpuscles—The Heart—The Respiratory System—Lungs—Air-sacs—The Organs of Voice—The Egg—Classification of the Class Aves.

BIRDS may be separated into three great divisions: the CarinatÆ, or birds with a keeled sternum, the RatitÆ, or birds having a raft-like sternum, and the SaururÆ, or lizard-like birds. The last of these orders links the birds with the reptiles, and does not concern us here, as it contains only one genus, and that a fossil one, the ArchÆopteryx lithographica, respecting which a few words will be found at the end of this article (Vol. IV., pp. 236–8). The other two divisions are of great importance, and are easily recognisable, although the characters which separate them are chiefly anatomical. The principal point of difference lies in the sternum, or breast-bone, and the name CarinatÆ is given to all those which have a keel (carina) or sternal ridge largely developed, as in the common fowl; and this is present in the great majority of birds. The RatitÆ have not got this keel, and in this division are found the Struthious birds—Ostriches, Cassowaries, &c. They are all species which cannot fly; and although the number at present existing is small, the fact of their being found at widely distant parts of the earth—in South America, in Africa, and again in Australia—would seem to indicate that they were once more plentifully distributed, and that they are remains of what was formerly a large and important group. To these Ratite birds belonged also the extinct gigantic Moas of New Zealand, and the Æpyornis of Madagascar.

Before proceeding further, it will be necessary to give a brief outline of the principal anatomical features of a bird’s body. On examining either the general features of the skeleton, or the minute characters of many of the bones of which it is made up, in such a bird as a Hawk, for example, we are arrested by those remarkable arrangements by which this part of the body is adapted to the mode of life of its possessor. Here, however, as in so many instances, we have to distinguish between what is characteristic of the bird as a flying animal, and what is more or less common to it and other vertebrate animals, and does not especially relate to peculiar habits. We may well be struck by the marvellous power which birds have, and which man has not, and it is curious to notice how man’s aspirations have ever been associated with it. Without pausing to observe that painters always endow spirits with wings, or that the imaginative genius of the French has emboldened them to form a “SociÉtÉ d’Encouragement pour la Locomotion AÉrienne,” we may find in the words of Faust definite expression of what man feels with regard to the law by which he is held down to earth:—

“Ich eile fort, ihr ew’ges Licht zu trinken,

Vor mir den Tag und hinter mir die Nacht,

Den Himmel Über mir, und unter mir die Wellen.

Ein schÖner Traum, indessen sie entweicht.

Ach! zu des Geistes FlÜgeln wird so leicht

Kein kÖrperlicher FlÜgel sich gesellen.

Doch ist es jedem eingeboren,

Dass sein GefÜhl hinauf und vorwÄrts dringt,

Wenn Über uns, im blauen Raum verloren,

Ihr schmetternd Lied die Lerche singt,

Wenn Über schroffen FichtenhÖhen

Der Adler ausgebreitet schwebt,

Und Über FlÄchen, Über Seen

Der Kranich nach der Heimat strebt.”[139]

Inspired by feelings such as those so powerfully expressed in Goethe’s lines, numerous naturalists have treated of the bird as though the powers of flight were confined to it, and were not shared by Bees and Bats in the present, and by Pterodactyles in the past. With this word of comment, which it is even still necessary to insist upon, attention should be given to the following avian characters:—The anterior limbs do not touch the ground, and the bones which compose them are adapted for carrying the feathers of the wing; the breast-bone is not only elongated, but has its central portion developed (except in the RatitÆ) into a strong keel, the better to permit insertion of the muscles by which the fore-limb is moved; the small bones (vertebrÆ) in the region of the back are fixed firmly together, and are not, as in man or in the Ostrich, movable on one another; while those which succeed them are often welded into one mass with the greatly-developed upper bones (ilia) of the pelvic girdle; and the hinder vertebrÆ develop an upstanding plate (ploughshare bone) which gives support to the rectrices, or so-called steering feathers of the tail. It will have been seen that the ordinary seizing organ of man (the hand) has in birds been modified to serve another purpose; but this is made up for, not only by the character of the beak, but by the long and flexible neck, and in some by the grasping toes.

Before describing in detail the characters of the different parts of the skeleton, it is to be noted that many of the bones are not, as in the Mammalia, filled with marrow, but with air; a large cavity may, for example, be seen in the upper bone (humerus) of the wing of the common fowl. It is obvious that the specific gravity, or weight of the bird, is thus largely reduced, while the connection between these air-spaces and those which are derived from the lungs enables the contained air to undergo the necessary exchanges with the surrounding medium.

It was long ago observed by the famous German anatomist, Johannes MÜller, that “it has often been a subject for complaint that the anatomical characters of birds are so constant that they are of but slight assistance in the labours of the zoologist.” The truth of this will very forcibly strike any one who comes to the study of the skulls of birds, after having examined a series of skulls in mammals, so that the seemingly trivial variations to which anatomists have directed attention are in truth those which are, in birds, often of the most importance.

SKELETON OF EAGLE. (Reduced. After Milne-Edwards.)

(p) Pelvis; (c) Coracoid; (dr) Dorsal ribs; (sr) Sternal ribs; (up) Uncinate processes; (co) Coccyx; (r) Radius; (u) Ulna; (d) first phalanx of chief digit of the wing; (d') second phalanx of chief digit of the wing; (d) Phalanges of lower digit; (d?) Pollex; (ca) Carpus; (f) Femur; (fu) Furcula; (h) Humerus; (pp) Postorbital process; (tm) Tarso-metatarsus; (m) Metatarsus; (ma) Lower jaw; (me) Metacarpus; (s) Scapula; (pa) Phalanges of foot; (fi) Fibula; (pt) Patella; (st) Sternum; (ti) Tibia.

The skull, then, is, as compared with the rest of the body, small; but that portion which contains the brain is relatively larger to the face than it is in any living mammal. The orbits, or cavities in which lie the eyes, are very deep, in consequence of the small extent to which the walls of the brain-case extend forwards. The cavities of each side are separated by a partition (inter-orbital septum), which is more or less bony; the nasal bones are short, so that the nasal orifices (anterior nares) are placed near to where the beak joins the face. Of the four bones which bound the great opening at the back of the skull for the passage of the spinal cord, three take part in the formation of the single ball-like projection, or condyle, by which the skull is hinged on the vertebral column. In this point, the skull of birds offers a striking point of dissimilarity to that of mammals, in which there are two condyles, one on each side of the great opening (of). Another point in which birds do not resemble mammals is in the mode by which the lower jaw is hinged on the skull. This is in the case of birds effected by a bone, which, being more or less square in shape, has gained the name of the quadrate (q). In mammals the skull proper and the lower jaw are directly connected. This quadrate bone is connected by a long narrow bar (quadrato-jugal) with the bones which go to form the “beak,” and also, by a narrow bone directed inwards, with the bones which lie in the middle line of the base of the skull, and form the hard palate. The connections between these bones are often of such a kind as to allow of the upper jaw, or upper half of the beak, being movable on the rest of the skull, the upper bones of which are so completely united together as to form a very firm point of support. In the Parrots this arrangement is carried to an extreme, for the slender bones (nasals and processes of the pre-maxillaries) which connect the upper jaw with the bones of the brain-case form with them a distinct joint, and so allow of that large amount of vertical movement which will have been observed in these birds. The pre-maxillary bones (pm), which are so small in mammals, are very largely developed in birds, giving off, as they do, three processes: one to the frontal bone (or fore-bone of the brain-case), one along the hard palate, and another externally to form the margin of the beak. The parts that vary most in this bone-group are the bones which make up the hard palate. Of these, the chief are the so-called palatines (p) and the maxillaries; the former are united by an articular surface with the bone which forms the anterior part of the base of the brain-case, while there is in the middle a narrow bone, which, from its shape in man, has received the name of the vomer (ploughshare, v). The maxillary bones develop horizontal plates, which have the palate below and the nasal chamber above them.[140]

The lower jaw (ma) is composed of six pieces of bone on each side—the dentary, angular, surangular, coronoid, splenial, and articular. The upper part of the joint is concave.

The tongue is in relation, as regards its support and movements, to the hyoid bones, which will be especially noticed in describing the Woodpecker.

SKULL OF YOUNG OSTRICH FROM ABOVE (A) AND FROM BELOW (B).
(After Owen.)

(of) Occipital foramen; (so) Supraoccipital; (eo) Exoccipital; (q) Quadrate; (pa) Parietal; (pp) Pterygoid process; (f) Frontal; (e) Ethmoid; (n) Nasal; (pm) Premaxillary; (m) Malar; (p) Palatine; (v) Vomer; (im) Intermaxillary; (l) Lachrymal bones.

Turning to the vertebral column, we find a number of small bones, complicated in form, and more or less movable on one another. For convenience of description they may be divided into those which belong to the neck (cervical vertebrÆ), to the trunk (dorsal vertebrÆ), to the sacrum (so-called because it was offered in sacrifices!), or to the tail (caudal vertebrÆ). As has been observed already, the first of these, or the region of the neck, is very long, and is always long enough for the beak to be able to reach to the base of the tail. In birds, unlike mammals, the number of these cervical vertebrÆ may be as low as nine, or as high as twenty-four. The first of them, which is known as the atlas, has on its front face a rounded cavity into which fits the single projecting condyle, which was spoken of as being found at the back of the skull; and this condyle, being well rounded, is easily able to turn in the cavity which it fits, and the head is thereby capable of a large amount of movement. In the succeeding vertebrÆ it is possible to make out a body, an upper arch, through which passes the spinal cord, which meets above in the middle line, and is produced into a more or less long spinous process set horizontally to the “body,” and others directed forwards and backwards, so as to connect each vertebra with its neighbours; and lastly, a lower arch, the two halves of which are not connected below, but are converted into the more or less long ribs. As these vertebrÆ are so small it is clear that if their spines were long the free movement of the neck would be greatly impeded, and they are therefore in many cases little more than projecting processes. This free movement is further greatly aided by the characters of the two faces of the body (or centrum) of each vertebra; the face of each is saddle-shaped, that is to say, the anterior face is concave from side to side, and convex from above downwards, while the reverse of this is seen on the posterior face; in addition to this the vertebrÆ are separated by a disc of cartilage from one another. The region of the neck is, broadly speaking, distinguished from that which succeeds it by the fact that the ribs connected with its vertebrÆ do not reach to the sternum, or breast-bone. In all birds which are capable of flight this dorsal region has its parts firmly united together, and the same holds for the parts which follow, till we reach the region of the tail, where the more anterior vertebrÆ are movable on one another, so as, perhaps, to serve in aid of the steering organ formed by the rectrices, or feathers (co). In all living birds the caudal vertebrÆ are a good deal shorter than the body, but in the fossil ArchÆopteryx they are longer.

The only important point to note with regard to the ribs, is the presence on some of them of backwardly directed hooked processes (up, fig. on p. 241), which aid in giving firmness to the thoracic region. The number of ribs is variable, but there is never a large number connected with the dorsal vertebrÆ, as there are in some Carnivora, in Hyrax, and in the Horse.

STERNUM OF FREGILUPUS VARIUS. (After Murie.)

(cl) Clavicle; (sc) Scapula; (co) Coracoid; (cs) Keel of Sternum.

The fore and hind limbs are connected to the body by a series of bones, which form the breast and hip girdles respectively; with the former series is also connected that large, long bone with its sharply-projecting ridge (is), which is known as the breast-bone, or sternum, and in the depressions on which so much muscle is collected. This sharply-projecting ridge to the sternum, which is known as the carina, or “keel” (cs), is found only in the flying birds, though here and there, as in the Parrot of New Zealand (Strigops), it is very rudimentary. The lower edge of the bone is often imperfect, so that, as in the fowl, there are two deep clefts on each side, or there may be but a single cleft, and this again may be converted into a rounded space; in all cases these clefts or holes are covered, or filled by membrane, during the life of the animal. Projecting in front of the sternum, and often intimately connected with it, are the two clavicles (cl), which unite in the middle line to form the bone of childhood’s delight—the furcula, or “merrythought.” Above, this bone is connected with two bones, one of which, called the coracoid (c), descends on each side to fit into a depression on the upper edge of the sternum, while the other, known as the scapula, or shoulder-blade (sc), is set at an angle to the coracoid. The scapula has a backward and downward direction; while it may be noted that among mammals the coracoid is well developed only in Echidna and Ornithorhynchus. These two last bones form, at their point of junction, a cavity into which is fitted the head of the long bone of the arm (wing). In the RatitÆ, it must be observed, these two bones are not set at an angle to one another, and they become more firmly united together.

PELVIS OF AN ADULT FOWL, SIDE VIEW. (Reduced.)
(After W. K. Parker.)

(il) Ilium; (is) Ischium; (pb) Pubes; (dl) Dorso-lumbar vertebrÆ; (cd) Caudal vertebrÆ; (am) Acetabulum.

As in all the vertebrate animals except fishes, the fore-limb may be divided into three parts (fig. on p. 237)—upper arm, in which there is one bone, the humerus (a); fore arm, in which there are two, radius (d) and ulna (c); and hand (E), which can again be divided into three parts, which in man would be called wrist, palm, and fingers. Now, in some animals the wrist-bones may be ten in number, and the palm-bones five, while the number of small bones in the fingers varies a good deal, but the number of fingers is five. In most birds all these numbers are reduced. Just beyond the fore arm, the larger bone of which has often small projections indicating the points at which the secondary feathers have been attached, there are two small bones (f), then comes a longer bone (g h i), as it seems, in which there is an elongated space. Now, this bone consists of three metacarpals and one wrist-bone; the two outer metacarpals are absent, the two innermost ones have completely united with one another, and with the (true) middle metacarpal bone at their upper end; while the second and third metacarpals are also united at the other—or finger—end. The inner digit (k), or that which corresponds to man’s thumb, has two joints (phalanges), and may be clawed; the next has three joints, and may also be clawed; while the third finger, which has never more than two joints, is never known to carry a claw. In the ArchÆopteryx the metacarpal bones are well developed, and are not, as in recent birds, united together. No idea of a bird’s flying powers can be fairly gathered from the length of the hand, for it is long in Swifts and short in Albatrosses, for example; although it is to be noted that in the former the single bone (humerus) of the arm is short, and in the latter long.

As in the breast-girdle, the bones of the hinder or hip-girdle, by which the hind-limbs are connected with the body, are three in number; of these the upper one is greatly flattened out and projects very far forwards, thus aiding in the formation of the firm back of flying birds; the other two bones are much more slender, and are directed backwards and downwards. It is a curious circumstance that it is in one bird only, in either case, that these bones are directly connected at their lower ends with their fellow on the opposite side; those which are known as the pubes (pb) are so in the African Ostrich, and those which are known as the ischia (is) in the Rhea of South America. These two bones, with the large, flat ilia (il), take part in forming the cavity in which the head of the thigh-bone plays; the outer of the two bones (fi) which are found in the leg is rarely as long as, and is always much more slender than the other (ti), which has a strong ridge on its front face. There is yet another very remarkable point of resemblance between birds and reptiles, in that the “ankle-joint” is in both cases situated between the two rows of bones which make up the “ankle” (tarsus). In birds this arrangement is carried to a still further extent, for the single bone of the upper row is early united with the shin-bone, as may be seen under those unfortunate circumstances in which the poulterer has provided an aged fowl (aged, that is, for eating); in more fortunate cases it will be found possible to separate a small bone from the lower end of the shin-bone of the leg.

In no case does any bird, even ArchÆopteryx, possess a fifth toe. Unlike mammals, the number of joints in the toes varies greatly in birds. In those which possess four toes we find the following number of joints: in the first, two; in the second, three; in the third, four; and in the fourth, five. This rule holds for nearly all birds, but the Swifts have never more than three joints, and in the Goat-sucker and the Sand Grouse there are two less than ordinary on the fourth toe. In a number of birds the inner toe (big toe of man) disappears, and in the Ostrich proper the next division of the “typically” five-toed foot, or second toe, has no toe-joints.

In dealing with the muscular system of birds, we need here concern ourselves with only those special muscles which are modified in accordance with the necessities of the bird’s habits, and those other muscles which have been brought into special notice by valuable investigations.

That great fleshy mass which is found on the breast of a bird, and which is not unknown to those who are fond of a good “dish,” consists of three separate muscles, two of which depress, while the other elevates the wing. The presence of the elevator muscle on the lower side of the sternum is a curious arrangement by which the centre of gravity of the animal is lowered—a most necessary condition in flight; the tendon from this muscle passes through a pulley-like canal to be inserted into the upper side of the head of the bone, which, as has already been explained, is known as the humerus, so that when it contracts it draws this bone up. The ability of the wings to resist the pressure of the air is clearly dependent on the power possessed by these muscles. Borelli has calculated that the “pectoral muscles” of the bird exceed in weight all the other muscles taken together, whilst in man the pectoral muscles are but a seventieth part of the mass of the muscles.

The large and important muscles, which in the Mammalia, constitute the diaphragm, or midriff, are ordinarily said to be absent in birds, and, indeed, in most cases are but feebly represented. In the RatitÆ, and especially in the New Zealand form (Apteryx) of this group, the diaphragm may attain to a very fair degree of completeness, though even here the apex of the heart is allowed to pass into the abdominal cavity. The muscles of the back are feebly developed, as might be imagined from the firm character of the spinal column; and as the fore limb exhibits but slight power of varying its movements, its muscles are not well developed. Those muscles which are found in the skin are, on the contrary, expanded into broad pieces; and special bundles are sent to the larger feathers of the wings and of the tail, and to those folds of skin which connect the upper arm with the trunk, and with the fore arm, respectively. Borelli thus explains the arrangement by which a perching bird remains fixed when asleep: A muscle which arises from the pubes bone of the hip-girdle passes over the knee, and then takes a backward direction so as to pass behind the ankle; it thus becomes one of the flexor muscles, by the contraction of which the toes are flexed, or bent. When the perching bird, which, as we know, has one of its toes directed backwards, is seated on a bough, the thigh has its upper end directed backwards, while the upper joint of the leg is turned forwards, or in other words, the two parts of the leg have opposite directions. This arrangement acts as a contracting influence on this muscle and its tendons, while the weight of the bird is sufficient to preserve this condition and the consequent flexion of the toes.

To turn to those muscles the arrangement of which has, been made the basis of a suggested classification. In the leg of the bird there are, among others, four muscles, the names of which are femoro-caudal, accessory femoro-caudal, semi-tendinosus, and accessory semi-tendinosus, any of which may be absent, but in those cases where a single muscle only is found the first is always present; again, there is a muscle which, from its course, is known as the ambiens, and this, too, may be present or may be absent. As the presence or absence of any of these muscles is a very constant phenomenon in any given section of birds, it has been proposed to divide the class into those which do, and those which do not, possess the above-named ambiens muscle. In the latter group the second of the four above-named muscles—the accessory femoro-caudal—is never present.[141]

Of all the muscles, those which act in aid of the vocal organs are of the greatest interest, but they will be considered a little later on.

A valuable suggestion has been made, which, if followed out, may lead us to understand how it is that the brain of the bird, which is so simple as compared with that of man, is nevertheless capable of so much intelligent activity. Bearing in mind the axiom that it is quality not quantity that tells, and looking at the fact that the brain of the most highly intelligent man is, after death, supposed to be similar to that of the foolish and of the unwise of our race, it is obvious that the essential difference must lie elsewhere than in the coarser, or more evident, characters of that organ which is known as the brain. The suggestion, then, that was made, was to the effect, that the possessors of aviaries, in which it was possible to study the characters of birds, should submit the brains of their deceased favourites to that more thorough investigation which the microscope allows of. The brains of birds vary but little in their anatomy. The optic lobes are rounded, paired, and tubercular in the bird, and are not divided into four, as in mammals; they are found at the lower part and sides, and not in the upper part of the brain. The cerebellum is not continued at the sides into distinct lobes; nor are the two lobes of the brain (or cerebral hemispheres) provided with those convolutions which, in mammals, seem to increase in complexity of character as the animal rises in the scale of intelligence. The cerebrum does not cover the cerebellum. Small as is the brain of birds, it is found that, in many, its weight is, as compared with that of the body, much greater than it is in man.

With reference to the spinal cord, or the continuation of the central part of the nervous system through the vertebral column, it is only necessary to remark that it is much increased in width at the two regions, in which the nerves for the fore and hind limbs are respectively given off; that there is a narrow canal running along its centre, and that at the lower end there is a large space. In regard to the cerebral nerves, those for the eyes are of great size.

Coming now to consider the organs of the senses, and beginning with the eye, it is interesting to note that there are no blind birds, and, indeed, the eyes are of a large size as compared with the brain. They are generally placed at the sides, though the nocturnal birds of prey (in which they are directed forwards) are an exception to this rule. It is in very rare cases that eyelashes are present, and although they seem to exist in the group just mentioned, it is probably more correct to look upon them as slightly modified feathers.

If the eye be regarded as having on its front face, a part which would, if completed, form part of a smaller circle than the rest of the eye, it is clear that this cornea, or front part, would be more convex than the rest, and that it would consequently be a “more powerful glass,” inasmuch as it would exert a greater bending (refracting) influence on the rays of light which pass through it, while, further, it is clear that the more convex it is the better “glass” would it be. Now this is just what happens in birds: the cornea is very convex; in addition to this, the long axis of the eye, on the length of which it seems that, in many cases, the condition known as that of being “short-sighted” depends, is very long in some birds, and notably in the Owls.

The eye is covered in by a firm and strong membrane, which is known as the “sclerotic;” this, in its front part, develops a number of bony plates; of these there may be as many as twenty, and they are capable of a certain amount of free movement on one another. What is known as the power of accommodation depends upon the extent to which the front face of the somewhat lens-shaped body which helps to separate the eye into two chambers is capable of being rendered more or less flat; this front face is covered by a membrane which is found to be more or less taut, according to the state of contraction of the muscles (ciliary muscles) connected with it. A very little reflection is sufficient to show that a swiftly moving animal has the focus of its eye, or the point at which clear vision is alone possible, changed much more rapidly than an animal which moves more slowly. So much on the one side. On the other, it is to be observed that muscles vary in structure; they are either “smooth” or “striated,” and it is the latter that contract the more rapidly. Putting these two series of observations together, it is easy to arrive at the result that a bird should have striated muscular fibre in its ciliary muscles, and a more slowly moving animal like man, smooth muscular fibres; and this we find to be the case! The iris is an arrangement by which the quantity of light admitted into the eye is enabled to be varied, and the small hole in the centre, through which the rays of light pass, is known as the pupil; this is always rounded in birds, and is never elongated as it is in some mammals—the Cats, for example.[142]

But the most peculiar arrangement in the bird’s eye is the presence, projecting into the hinder chamber, of a membrane in which run blood-vessels; this, which is known as the pecten (comb), or marsupium (pouch), enters the vitreous humour, which fills up this hinder chamber by the same cleft as the optic nerve. It is folded, and is generally of a quadrangular shape; it is not found in the eye of the Wingless Bird of New Zealand (Apteryx).

SECTION OF THE EYE OF THE COMMON BUZZARD.
(After Macgillivray.)

(aa) Sclerotic; (bb) Choroid Coat and Pigment; (c) Ciliary Circle; (d) Lens; (ee) Iris; (f) Cornea; (g) Optic Nerve; (i) Pecten.

A third eyelid is well developed in this class; it is an elastic membrane (membrana nictitans, or winking membrane), which has not, like the other two, a vertical movement, but is drawn obliquely over the eye from the inner to the outer side. This movement is effected by two special muscles, one of which arises on the inside, and below the eyeball, and has therefore to pass over to the outer side. In contracting, it would press on the optic nerve, were it not for the other one, which, however, is so disposed that by its contraction it draws away the tendon of the pyramidalis muscle from pressing on the nerve. As in ourselves, there are six special muscles for moving the orbit or ball of the eye, but the one which in man is well enough known as the trochlear, has no pulley-arrangements in birds. Lachrymal glands are present.

With regard to the organ of hearing, one particular part, which in man is in the form of a snail’s shell, and is known as the cochlea, is not coiled into this shape in birds, being very slightly bent, though holding in other respects the same general relations. Nor is there any external ear, as in mammals, for collecting the waves of sound; there is, however, in the nocturnal birds of prey a crescent-shaped valve on which are set tufts of short feathers, and it is possible that this may aid in hearing. Nor, again, are there in the interior of the ear those three small bones, which are known generally as the auditory ossicles; of the two that are absent, one is thought by many anatomists to be represented by the quadrate bone, which, as has already been mentioned, connects the lower jaw of the bird with the skull. The single bone which is present, and which is, perhaps, most generally known as the “columella,” is connected by two or three cartilaginous processes with the drum of the ear, and by the other end—at which it has a small oval plate—with the more internal parts of the organ of hearing. In man there is a curious arrangement of rods, which vary in so remarkable a way as to have led to the supposition that each was adapted to a distinct note; these rods, which constitute the organ of Corti, are not present in birds, affording thereby a striking example of the law that physiological inferences are often well examined by the aid of comparative anatomy, no physiologist being hardy enough to deny to birds the power of appreciating those delicate modulations of sound which go to make up the chief charm of music. With regard to the organ of smell, it is only necessary to note the absence of those muscles by which, in man and other mammals, the nostrils are contracted or dilated.

The first point which attracts us on examining the digestive tract of birds is the absence of lips and of teeth; but with regard to these latter we must note that it is a character which has only become distinct since the time when birds were first developed. This statement is borne out by two series of facts, each taken from one of the two great aids to a correct apprehension of the real importance of structural characters—that is, from embryology, or the study of the developing individual; and from palÆontology, or the natural history of the past. The young of certain Parrots have been observed to possess, at an early stage of their development, those uprisings on the mucous membrane of the jaw which go by the name of “dental papillÆ,” and these papillÆ have been seen to be covered with a cap of dentine. On the other hand, the researches of Owen and of some American palÆontologists have brought to light bird-like forms which were provided with teeth (Odontornithes: Ichthyornis, Hesperornis).

The beak, or horny covering of the jaws, varies very greatly in form, and in the degree of its sensibility. This tactile sense is dependent on the extent to which the beak is supplied by nerves (from the fifth cerebral nerve). In the Woodpecker, for example, there is a large branch extending along the inside of the lower jaw, which, as it approaches the extremity, breaks up into finer nerves that perforate the bone by a number of small canals and so give to the beak a power of discovering what lies hid in the crevices of the wood and under the bark. Being an external structure, the beak is naturally adapted to the habits of its possessors, so that it may be hooked, as in many flesh-eating forms, or trenchant, and fit to cut and break, or provided with transversely-set fine plates by which the water taken in with the food can be filtered off, or provided with bristles, the better to hold a living prey. Finally, in many cases the hardness of the bill is made up for by a patch of naked skin at the base of the upper mandibles, which is known by the name of the “cere” and seems to have a tactile function.

In many birds, the tongue is either feebly developed, or is encased in horn, so that it can hardly be as useful an organ of taste as is our tongue: in the Pelicans it is obsolete. In some, however, as in the Woodpecker, the tongue is a very powerful seizing organ, as it is protruded with great rapidity by means of a special muscle, and is well provided with a sticky secretion, which is given off from a large gland (the sub-lingual), which, lying below the muscle above referred to, is compressed when this muscle contracts; so that in the Woodpecker, just as in the mammal called the Great Ant-eater (Myrmecophaga), the insect prey is easily captured.

The region of the mouth is not separated from that which follows it (the pharynx) by an epiglottis, which in ourselves protects the entrance into the air-passages, nor is there any uvula to guard the posterior orifice of the nose by which the air reaches the throat. The succeeding portion of the gullet (the oesophagus) is very long, as might be supposed from the length of the neck in most birds, and it is very frequently either dilated at one side, or produced into a cÆcal pouch (crop, ingluvies), which may, or may not, be separated by a narrow connection, from the rest of the gullet, and which may be divided into two compartments. This crop serves for the detention of the food, which cannot have undergone any complete process of mastication, and it is here treated to a process of maceration by the fluid secreted from the walls of this organ. Passing from this receptacle, the food becomes subject to the action of the stomach proper, which differs, however, from our ordinary conception of a stomach, as seen in man, by being divided into two distinct portions. The anterior one is known as the proventriculus, and it is in this that the gastric juice is brought to bear upon the food, and its walls are consequently thickened by a glandular layer; the hinder division, which is known as the gizzard, forms an elongated sac, with two orifices—one from the proventriculus, the other leading to the small intestine—in its upper portion. The characters of its walls are very different in those birds which live on animal, as compared with those that live on vegetable (grains) food; in the former they are membranous and thin, but in the latter they are enormously thick and very muscular. On examination, it is seen that the dark colour of the muscles is on each side of the gizzard relieved by a shining spot of tendinous material, and the walls of the gizzard have consequently been compared to a double-bellied (digastric) muscle. The internal cavity of the gizzard is lined with a dense and rough coat, and is ordinarily found to contain small stones, and occasionally other hard materials. These obviously take the place of the absent teeth, when the muscles of the gizzard set up that (grinding or compressing) action by which the ingested seeds are broken down. The wall of the gizzard may itself also act as a rasping organ, being, as it often is, provided with a firm glandular layer, the secretion of which is converted into a hard lining, the structure of which has been observed in some cases to be due to interlaced filaments secreted from and continuous with the glands in the wall of the gizzard.

Notwithstanding the differences in the character of the gizzard in carnivorous and graminivorous birds, it has been shown by the ever-famous John Hunter that carnivorous birds can be brought to live on grains, and grain-eating birds on meat.

It is interesting, further, to note, with regard to the opening into the small intestine, that in a number of grain- or fruit-eating birds there is no valvular arrangement to detain the food in the gizzard till it is completely triturated, for it is thus that many plants have their area of distribution increased, the escaped seeds passing uninjured from the intestine to find, perhaps, a suitable soil in a new district. In those that swallow large stones a valve is often to be observed. The difference which we have already had so frequently to notice, as obtaining between the carnivorous and “vegetarian” birds, is seen to be continued into their small intestine; just as in mammals, this portion of the tract is longer in the latter than in the former birds. The anterior, or duodenal portion, is always characterised by forming a loop, within which lies the gland known as the pancreas, and the succeeding portion is, as compared with most mammals, short. A slight elevation, hardly ever of any great size, may at times be observed on the course of the short intestine. This represents all that remains of the duct by which the hatching bird was connected with the yolk. The short and straight large intestine is ordinarily separated from the preceding by a cÆcum; this is generally paired (in the Herons and some others it is single), and varies in length; in many cases these cÆcal tubes are hardly more than papillÆ. In the Parrot, as in the Woodpecker and some others, these cÆca are absent. In the desert-dwelling Ostrich (Struthio) they are said to be as much as two feet long; but in the Emu they do not exceed six inches in length.

DIGESTIVE ORGANS OF THE KINGFISHER.
(After Macgillivray.)

(a) Tongue; (b, c, d) Œsophogus; (d, e, f) Stomach; (f, g, h, i, j, k) Intestine; (j, k) Cloaca.

The intestine ends in a cavity, which is common to it, and to the other organs that open to the exterior in this region. This cloaca (sewer) is found in reptiles also, and in one division of the Mammalia, the Monotremata. In birds it is provided with a special glandular appendage on its upper (or dorsal) aspect, which goes by the name of the Bursa Fabricii. Neither the history nor the functions of this peculiar organ can be said to be thoroughly understood.

Of the organs which are appended to the intestine, the lungs will be described elsewhere; of the rest we have to consider the liver, the pancreas, and the spleen. The first-named organ is large, and covers over the pancreas, the proventriculus, the spleen, part of the gizzard, and part of the small intestine. It is ordinarily divided into two “lobes,” between which, on the upper edge, is placed the tip of the heart. In the common fowl the left lobe is often divided into two; but this organ is never broken up into so large a number of parts as it is in many mammals, from which animals birds also differ in always having more than one duct to carry off the secretion of the liver (bile) to the small intestine, except in the Ostrich; in this, as in some other birds, there is no gall-bladder in which the bile may be collected, so that in such this secretion passes directly into the intestine.

As has been already pointed out, the commencement of the small intestine forms a loop, in which is set the organ known as pancreas, which may for simplicity be described as the salivary gland of this region, although in truth the fluid secreted from it is a much more powerful aid to the digestion of food than that of any known salivary gland. It has always two, and in a number of cases three ducts, which do not unite with the bile ducts, but open separately from, though near them, into the end of the “duodenal loop.” The spleen, which is a small oval body, and is placed to the right of the proventriculus, has no ducts; in birds of prey it is more cylindrical in shape.

The temperature of the blood of the bird is, in requirement with the conditions of its existence, hot—that is to say, it is ordinarily hotter than the temperature of the surrounding air, and is found to register between 100° (Gull) and 112° (Swallow) on Fahrenheit’s scale, or from two to fourteen degrees more than does that of man. Birds and mammals, are, speaking broadly, the only hot-blooded animals now existing, and it has consequently been suggested that they should be grouped together as such, in opposition to the rest of the Vertebrata. But it is obvious that this character of the temperature is merely dependent on physiological conditions; and were this a treatise on the anatomy of birds rather than one on their natural history, the statement of this fact would not receive the prominence here given to it. The high temperature of any body may be preserved from cooling influences by two methods: thus, tea in a well-polished silver teapot keeps hot because the rays of heat are but slightly radiated from its surface; or a less costly teapot may be kept hot by covering it with a loosely-fitting “cosy,” which, being made of badly-conducting materials, “keeps the heat in.” It is, then, clear that the heat of a body is best preserved when it is covered by a bad radiator and a bad conductor of heat; and this is just the case with birds: the polished feathers are bad radiators, and the air entangled among them forms a bad conductor.

The blood corpuscles are, broadly speaking, about twice as large as in man; those which are coloured red are oval in shape, as they are in nearly all of the lower Vertebrates and in the Camels among mammals. Like the white ones, they are “nucleated.” The heart is, as in mammals, divided into four chambers. It is a condition of the circulation in hot-blooded and rapidly-breathing animals that the current of arterial blood from the heart, and the current of venous blood to it, should be kept as much as possible separate; no reflection is needed to show that the blood freshly purified by contact with the air in the lungs must be kept as distinct as can be from the blood which has lost its purity in passing through the body; in other words, it is required that there should be a similar result in birds and in mammals.

Birds, like all warm-blooded creatures, have the heart divided into four cavities—two ventricles and two auricles—those of the right side being completely separated from those of the left. The whole is enclosed in a pericardium, a thin, but strong, membrane. The right ventricle has thin muscular walls, and almost completely envelopes the left. The right auricle has a remarkable valve in the shape of a fleshy leaflet, which appears almost to be a portion of the inside of the ventricle that has become detached from the partition between the two ventricles. The blood, under certain circumstances, passes between this septum, or partition, and the leaflet, into the auricle; but when the beat of the heart takes place (the systole), the septum, being convex, is forced against the leaflet on the other side of the auricolo-ventricular opening, and the passage of the blood, through this, is prevented. The valve between the stout-chambered left ventricle and auricle does not present this structure, but is divided into two or three lobes attached to tendinous processes. At the origin of the great vessels—the pulmonary artery and the aorta—there are three valves, semi-lunar in shape and by name. And this last vessel, often having given off the coronary artery to the heart itself, is curved to the right, and then passes backwards to go down the body. The blood from the body is collected into three large veins—two anterior venÆ cavÆ and one posterior.

The lymphatic system is well developed, and of the so-called “lymphatic hearts,” which are well known in the Frog, the posterior ones have been observed in some, and especially in the Ratite birds.

The lungs, or organs in which the blood effects an exchange of its gases with the outer air, are paired, and set on either side of the heart. As is elsewhere mentioned, the nostrils are not provided with muscles, and there is no epiglottis sufficiently well developed to cover the entrance into the long tube, or trachea, which runs down the neck. This tube, which does not always take a straight course, is essentially made up of a number of rings of cartilage, which are for the greater part perfect, and not, as in man, imperfect rings. The bronchi which are given off from this tube, to the right and left, have their rings imperfect, and they do not show that two-forked mode of division which is so characteristic of mammals. The lungs are of a rosy colour, and of a comparatively small volume; they are marked externally by depressions corresponding to the characters of the vertebrÆ and ribs, to which latter they are firmly attached, and they are not divided into lobes; in their texture they are spongy; the air-tubes are given off from them at right angles to the main air-passage; these run nearly parallel to one another, and contain in their walls the true tissue of the respiratory organ. The air-tubes are also connected with the air-cells, which are arranged in so remarkable a manner as to deserve a full account.

They are found in all birds with the exception of the Apteryx, according to Professor Owen. Our knowledge of their existence is primarily due to the illustrious William Harvey, while it is to the distinguished anatomist, John Hunter, that we owe our knowledge of the very curious fact that these air-passages and sacs communicate also with the cavities of some of the bones of the skeleton. Though these sacs are not by any means highly vascular, or supplied with vessels to the same rich extent as are the lungs, they are nevertheless of enormous importance to the bird; thus, they diminish the specific gravity of the animal. For example, taking a bird which weighs 1,600 grammes, and has a volume of 1,230 cubic centimetres—or a specific gravity of 1·30 (16001230) it has been calculated (Bert) that 200 cubic centimetres of air can be introduced; now these centimetres would weigh ·22 of a gramme, so that the specific gravity of the animal would be reduced to 1·05 (1600+0·221230+200) or (1600·221520). Again, the air which is taken into the lungs is, in high-flying birds, often of an extremely low temperature; but this air is not only brought into contact with that of the lungs, but also with that which has been warmed in the abdominal cavity. And again, the air is often very dry—as it is for the Ostrich on the desert plains of Africa—but the air from the air-sacs contains a large amount of moisture. Of the proper air-sacs there are nine; of these, four—the two anterior and the two posterior thoracic—lie in the thorax (breast) proper; three—the right and left cervical, and the sac between the clavicles—lie in front of the thorax; while the last two are found behind it and in the abdomen. From all of these, with the exception of those within the thorax, communications are, or may be, given off to the bones of the vertebral column, to the humerus, to the bones of the thigh, and to the sternum and the ribs; but there is no communication between these sacs and the air-spaces which are so constantly found in the bones of the skull, and which are in connection with the air-cavities of the ear and of the nose. The inter-clavicular sac has been observed to be covered with a thick layer of muscle in those birds, at any rate, which perform somersaults, and it has been suggested that this layer of muscle is capable of driving the air in the sac backwards. It is obvious that such an operation would send the centre of gravity of the animal nearer the head, and would, so far, be of assistance in the execution of the curious movement alluded to.

It has been suggested that the air-sacs are of assistance in increasing the resonance of the bird’s voice. Be this as it may, attention must now be turned to the organ of voice. This organ may take one of three forms, or, if absence is to be counted, four. There is no organ of voice in the RatitÆ, or in the American Vultures (CathartidÆ). It is, when present, remarkable for being developed at the lower, and not at the upper, end of the trachea; while the true vocal cords, which, by their vibration produce the notes of the human voice, are altogether and always absent from the larynx; in other words, the vocal organ is not the larynx, but an organ seated at a lower level, and known as the syrinx. This instrument may, further, be formed in the trachea alone (as in some American Passerines), or in the bronchi alone (as in Steatornis), or at the point at which the tracheal and bronchial tubes pass into one another (as in the majority of singing birds).

The last-mentioned, or bronchio-tracheal syrinx, consists of the following parts; (i.) a tympanic chamber formed by the union of some of the lower rings of the trachea; (ii.) a membranous septum separating from one another the tracheal orifices of the two bronchi; (iii.) on either side a tympaniform membrane, formed on the inner side of the uppermost bronchial rings; in consequence of this these bronchial rings are not complete circles; their mucous membrane is developed into a fold which bounds one side of a cleft which is formed by the presence on the other side of the above-mentioned tympaniform membrane. The air which passes through these bronchial clefts sets in vibration the membranes which bound them, while the character of the note is affected by the position of the bronchial half-rings, and the length of the column of air in the trachea. These rings have their positions changed by five lateral muscles, which act on their ends, and so rotate them. The principle variations in the characters of the muscular supply of the organ of the voice were long ago worked out by Johannes MÜller, the famous German anatomist and physiologist.

It is also to this observer that we owe our first information with regard to the bronchial syrinx of Steatornis; the anatomy of this animal was also investigated by the late Prof. Garrod, who gave the following account of its vocal apparatus:—“Each semi-syrinx, as it may be termed, is formed on the same principle as that of the combined organ in most of the non-singing birds. Taking for description that of the left side, it is found that the thirteenth bronchial ring is complete, though considerably flattened from side to side; the fourteenth is not complete in the middle of its upper surface; it is a little longer from before backwards than the one above, and not so long as the one following it. The fifteenth is only a half ring, its inner portion being deficient; it is slightly convex upwards, and articulates, both at its anterior and posterior ends, with the fourteenth incomplete ring and the sixteenth half-ring. The sixteenth half-ring is concave upwards, and so forms an oval figure in combination with the one above, which is filled with a thin membrane to form part of the outer wall of the bronchus. There is a membrane also between the ends of these and the succeeding half-rings, which completes the tube of the bronchus internally.”

The ducts from the urinary organs open to the exterior through the cloaca, into which, as already mentioned, the digestive tube also opens. The chief point with regard to the urinary secretion of birds is the fact that it is semi-solid, and that it contains a quantity of the substance known as uric acid. The kidneys are placed some way back and near the cloaca; they are set on either side of the spinal column, between the transverse processes of the sacral vertebrÆ, and are generally divided into three portions of greatly varying size. On their inner edge are given off the ureters, which pass on each side to enter separately into the before-mentioned cloaca.

The right ovary of birds is always atrophied, and it is in rare cases only that rudiments of it are found (namely, in the diurnal Raptores). The oviduct is a coiled canal, the lower portion of which has strong, muscular walls, while internally the characters of its surface vary according to the substance which the glands of different regions add to the descending egg. The right oviduct is not so completely atrophied as is the ovary of the same side. This duct opens into the cloaca through which the egg passes to reach the outer world; as further development is so largely independent of the mother, the female organs offer no peculiarities of arrangement, or complexities of structure.

All birds lay eggs, or, in other words, the born young are not carried about by the mother till the time of birth. The advantage of this to a flying animal is so obvious that we may pass at once to describe the egg of a common fowl. The shell, which consists of organic matter and lime-salts, is found to be formed of two layers; it is in the outer one only that pigment is found. Both layers are traversed by canals, through which air can pass only when the shell is dry; that is to say, the outer pores of the shell are closed under the influence of moisture. This may be seen by removing the outer layers, when air or water will pass in quite easily. These canals are said to be branched in the Ratite birds, and to be simple in the CarinatÆ. The shell is lined by the shell-membrane, which, again, is made up of two layers. At the broad end of the egg these two layers are separated from one another, and so give rise to that air-chamber which is found in stale eggs, and increases in size as the egg grows older and the yolk evaporates.

The shell-membrane is in direct contact with the white of the egg (albumen). This, in its fresh state, consists of fluid albumen, arranged in layers, which are separated from one another by networks of fibres, in the meshes of which, however, fluid albumen is also to be found. There are, further, two special sets of fibrous cords in the white of the egg; these extend somewhat along the long axis of the egg, though they do not reach to the shell-membrane. From their bead-like character they are known as chalazÆ (hailstones), but their more common English name is that of the “tread.”

DIAGRAMMATIC SECTION OF A FOWL’S EGG.

(bl) Blastoderm; (wy) White Yolk; (yy) Yellow Yolk; (vt) Vitelline Membrane; (w) Albumen; (ch) ChalazÆ; (ach) Air-chamber; (ism) Internal Layer of Shell Membrane; (em) External Layer of ditto; (s) Shell.

The “white” is separated from the yolk by the so-called vitelline (or yolk) membrane; the greater part of this yolk is known as the yellow yolk, and is made up of minute albuminous granules, but its outermost part is formed of a thin layer of a somewhat different substance, which goes by the name of the white yolk. The spheres of this latter are still smaller than those of the yellow yolk, and they are also found to form layers at various levels in it. At one point the white yolk becomes a good deal thicker, and forms, as it were, a pad for a small white disc, which, in ordinary circumstances, is always found uppermost when an egg is opened. This disc is formed of an encircling white rim, and within it there is a rounded transparent region, the centre of which is more opaque.

This region is known as the blastoderm, and is that part of the egg from which the chick, with its organs and complicated vessels, muscles and bones is soon to be developed. In the laid egg, this blastoderm consists of two layers of cells, as do at a certain stage the eggs of all but the very simplest of animals. The dissection of a laying fowl will probably reveal the presence of eggs at an earlier stage, and from their study the following history has been made out: the ellipse-shaped egg, when about to leave the ovary, is a yellow body enclosed in a fine membrane, and possessing at one pole a small (germinal) disc; this disc contains a smaller germinal vesicle, and a still smaller germinal spot; when this body is ripe, it escapes from its enclosing capsule, and the germinal vesicle disappears. As the egg passes down the oviduct the albumen becomes deposited around it, and part of it is converted into the shell-membrane. The egg now becomes subjected to a thick, white fluid, which is gradually converted into the shell.

While these additions to the substance of the egg are going on, the germinal disc undergoes the remarkable process known as segmentation, in which it becomes divided into two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two (and so on) masses, which arrange themselves in two distinct layers, the presence of which has been already noted in the laid egg.

This is not the place in which it is possible to follow out the various future changes undergone, but the condition of the young birds on escaping from the egg is widely different in some of the larger groups of birds. Some young birds, on their exclusion from the egg, are able to shift for themselves, and are covered with down; while others are born naked and helpless, and require food from their parents for some time after they are hatched. Of the first section, an ordinary chicken is a familiar example, while a young Thrush or a Sparrow illustrates the second. There are, however, manifest exceptions to this rule, as in the Herons, for instance, where the young are densely clothed with feathery down, but are helpless for a long time after they are hatched.

Finally, it must be stated that all birds possess an oil-gland (known as the uropygial), situated near the tail, with which they clean and dress their feathers. Attention has already been called to this gland in the foot note on p. 245.

Before commencing the special part of the present article, it may be useful to give a slight sketch of the classification which it is proposed to follow throughout its course.

CLASS AVES.
DIVISION I. CARINATÆ: CARINATE BIRDS.
ORDER I.—ACCIPITRES: BIRDS OF PREY.
SUB-ORDER I.—FALCONES: FALCONS.
Family I.—VulturidÆ	Vultures.
„ II.—FalconidÆ	Hawks.
Sub-Family I.—PolyborinÆ	Caracaras.
„ II.—AccipitrinÆ	Long-legged Hawks.
„ III.—ButeoninÆ	Buzzards.
„ IV.—AquilinÆ	Eagles.
„ V.—FalconinÆ	Falcons.
SUB-ORDER II.—PANDIONES: OSPREYS.
SUB-ORDER III.—STRIGES: OWLS.
Family I.—BubonidÆ	Owls proper.
„ II.—StrigidÆ	Barn Owls.
ORDER II.—PICARIÆ: PICARIAN BIRDS.
SUB-ORDER I.—ZYGODACTYLÆ: CLIMBING BIRDS.
Family I.—Psittaci	Parrots.
a. Psittaci proprii.
Sub-Family I.—CamptolophinÆ	Cockatoos.
„ II.—AndroglossinÆ	Fleshy-tongued Parrots.
„ III.—ConurinÆ	Conures.
„ IV.—PlatycercinÆ	Parrakeets.
„ V.—StrigopinÆ	Owl Parrots.
b. Psittaci orthognathi.
„ VI.—TrichoglossinÆ	Brush-tongued Parrots.
Family II.—CuculidÆ	Cuckoos.
„ III.—IndicatoridÆ	Honey-guides.
„ IV.—MusophagidÆ	Touracoes.
„ V.—PicidÆ	Woodpeckers.
„ VI.—RhamphastidÆ	Toucans.
„ VII.—CapitonidÆ	Barbets.
SUB-ORDER II.—FISSIROSTRES: WIDE-GAPING BIRDS.
Family I.—GalbulidÆ	Jacamars.
„ II.—BucconidÆ	Puff Birds.
„ III.—AlcedinidÆ	Kingfishers.
„ IV.—BucerotidÆ	Hornbills.
„ V.—UpupidÆ	Hoopoes.
„ VI.—MeropidÆ	Bee-eaters.
„ VII.—MomotidÆ	Motmots.
„VIII.—CoraciadÆ	Rollers.
„ IX.—TrogonidÆ	Trogons.
„ X.—CaprimulgidÆ	Goatsuckers.
„ XI.—CypselidÆ	Swifts.
„ XII.—TrochilidÆ	Humming-birds.
ORDER III.—PASSERIFORMES: PERCHING BIRDS.
SECTION A.—ACROMYODI: SINGING BIRDS.
SUB-ORDER I.—TURDIFORMES: THRUSH-LIKE. BIRDS.
GROUP I.—COLIOMORPHÆ: CROW-LIKE. PASSERES.
Family I.—CorvidÆ	Crows.
Sub-Family I.—CorvinÆ	Crows proper.
„ II.—FregilinÆ	Choughs.
„ II.—ParadisiidÆ	Birds of Paradise.
„ III.—OrioliidÆ	Orioles.
„ IV.—DicruridÆ	Drongos.
„ V.—PrionopidÆ	Wood-shrikes.
GROUP II.—CICHLOMORPHÆ: THRUSH-LIKE PASSERES.
Family VI.—CampophagidÆ	Cuckoo-shrikes.
„ VII.—MuscicapidÆ	Flycatchers.
„ VIII.—TurdidÆ	True Thrushes.
Sub-Family I.—TurdinÆ	Thrushes.
„ II.—SylviinÆ	Warblers.
Family IX.—TimeliidÆ	Babbling Thrushes.
Sub-Family I.—TroglodytinÆ	Wrens.
„ II.—BrachypodinÆ	Bulbuls.
„ III.—TimeliinÆ	Babblers.
„ IV.—CisticolinÆ	Grass-warblers.
„ V.—MiminÆ	American Babblers.
Family X.—LaniidÆ	Butcher-birds.
„ XI.—VireonidÆ	Greenlets.
„ XII.—ParidÆ	Titmice.
GROUP III.—CERTHIIMORPHÆ: CREEPERS.
GROUP IV.—CINNYRIMORPHÆ: HONEY SUCKERS.
SUB-ORDER II.—FRINGILLIFORMES: FINCH-LIKE BIRDS.
Family I.—MotacillidÆ	Wagtails.
„ II.—MniotiltidÆ	American Warblers.
„ III.—CÆrebidÆ	American Creepers.
„ IV.—DiceidÆ	Flower-peckers.
„ V.—AmpelidÆ	Chatterers.
„ VI.—HirundinidÆ	Swallows.
„ VII.—TanagridÆ	Tanagers.
„VIII.—FringillidÆ	Finches.
„ IX.—IcteridÆ	Hang-nests.
SUB-ORDER III.—STURNIFORMES: STARLING-LIKE BIRDS.
Family I.—PloceidÆ	Weavers.
„ II.—SturnidÆ	Starlings.
„ III.—ArtamidÆ	Wood-swallows.
„ IV.—AlaudidÆ	Larks.
SECTION B.—MESOMYODI: SONGLESS BIRDS.
Family I.—MenuridÆ	Lyre-birds.
„ II.—PteroptochidÆ	Bush-wrens.
„ III.—DendrocolaptidÆ	Spine-tails.
„ IV.—FormicariidÆ	American Ant-thrushes.
„ V.—PittidÆ	Old-World Ant-thrushes.
„ VI.—TyrannidÆ	Tyrant-birds.
„ VII.—CotingidÆ	American Chatterers.
„VIII.—PipridÆ	Manakins.
„ IX.—EurylÆmiidÆ	Broadbills.
„ X.—PhytotomidÆ	Plant-cutters.
ORDER IV.—COLUMBÆ: PIGEONS.
ORDER V.—GALLINÆ: GAME-BIRDS.
Family I.—CracidÆ	Curassows.
„ II.—OpisthocomidÆ	Hoatzins.
„ III.—PhasianidÆ	Pheasants.
„ IV.—MeleagridÆ	Turkeys.
„ V.—TetraonidÆ	Grouse.
„ VI.—PteroclidÆ	Sand-grouse.
„ VII.—TurnicidÆ	Hemipodes.
„VIII.—MegapodidÆ	Megapodes.
ORDER VI.—GRALLÆ: WADING BIRDS.
Family I.—RallidÆ	Rails.
„ II.—ScolopacidÆ	Snipes.
„ III.—CharadriidÆ	Plovers.
„ IV.—OtididÆ	Bustards.
„ V.—GruidÆ	Cranes.
„ VI.—PsophiidÆ	Trumpeters.
ORDER VII.—HERODIONES: HERONS.
Family I.—ArdeidÆ	Herons proper.
„ II.—CiconiidÆ	Storks.
„ III.—PlataleidÆ	Spoonbills.
„ IV.—PhÆnicopteridÆ	Flamingoes.
ORDER VIII.—ANSERES: GEESE.
Family I.—PalamedeidÆ	Screamers.
„ II.—AnatidÆ	Ducks.
ORDER IX.—STEGANOPODES: PELICANS.
Family I.—FregatidÆ	Frigate-birds.
„ II.—PhÆthontidÆ	Tropic-birds.
„ III.—PelecanidÆ	Pelicans.
ORDER X.—GAVIÆ: SEA-BIRDS.
Family I.—LaridÆ	Gulls.
„ II.—ProcellariidÆ	Petrels.
ORDER XI.—PYGOPODES: GREBES.
ORDER XII.—IMPENNES: PENGUINS.
ORDER XIII.—CRYPTURI: TINAMOUS.
DIVISION II.—RATITÆ: STRUTHIOUS BIRDS.
DIVISION III.—SAURURÆ: LIZARD-TAILED BIRDS.

It has been already stated that birds are divisible into three great sections, and attention is now directed to those which have a keel to the sternum, and which are good flyers—the Carinate Birds (CARINATÆ).

VULTURES AND CARACARAS.

The Birds of Prey—Distinctive Characters—The Cere—How the Birds of Prey are Divided—Difference between a Hawk, an Owl, and an Osprey—The three Sub-orders of the Accipitres—Sub-order FALCONES—Difference between the Vultures of the Old World and the Vultures of the New World—THE OLD WORLD VULTURES—Controversy as to how the Vultures reach their Prey—Waterton on the Faculty of Scent—Mr. Andersson’s, Dr. Kirk’s, and Canon Tristram’s Views in Favour of Sight—THE BLACK VULTURE—THE GRIFFON VULTURE—Its Capacity for Feeding while on the Wing—THE EARED VULTURE—One of the Largest of the Birds of Prey—Whence it gets its Name—THE EGYPTIAN VULTURE—A Foul Feeder—THE NEW WORLD VULTURES—THE CONDOR—Its Appearance—Power of Flight—Habits—THE KING VULTURE—THE TURKEY VULTURE—THE CARACARAS—Distinctive Characters—Habits—THE SECRETARY BIRD—How it attacks Snakes—Habits—Appearance—THE ÇARIAMA.

THE first order of birds to be considered is the birds of prey (Accipitres). They are all remarkable for strong and sharply-hooked bills, and most of them have sharp and powerful talons. In the Eagles and Falcons these characters are developed in the highest degree, although many modifications of their structure take place in the order—the Vultures, for instance, and other carrion-feeding birds, not having such a hooked bill as the true Falcons and Eagles, while their feet are larger and more adapted for holding their prey than for striking it down in full career, as the Falcons do. In most of the birds of prey the female is larger than the male, and is much the more powerful bird. This fact is always recognised in falconry, especially in the short-winged Hawks, such as Sparrow-Hawks or Goshawks, whose females are always preferred, as possessing the greater power for holding ground game, such as Rabbits, Hares, &c. The difference in size is not very noticeable in the Vultures, but is unmistakable in the long-legged Sparrow-Hawks, Eagles, and Falcons. The form of the breast-bone, which plays such an important part in the classification of other birds, is a character of less value in the birds of prey, as it varies to a great extent even in those species which, by their habits and general structure, are most closely allied. Another character possessed by these birds is the distinct cere, which is present in all, though much hidden by bristles in the Owls: it is a waxy covering to the base of the bill, often hard, but generally fleshy in substance.

Birds of prey are of three kinds: Hawks, Ospreys, and Owls. Under the first name is included every rapacious bird which is not an Osprey or an Owl, and, therefore, the first thing to find out is—how to tell an Owl from a Hawk. At one time it was supposed that all Owls came out by night and all Hawks by day, and so they were separated into two great divisions, which were called diurnal birds of prey[143] and nocturnal birds of prey.[144] Now, however, that the habits of birds are getting better observed, these divisions have to be abandoned as not being entirely true, for there are Owls which are quite at home in the daylight, when they hunt for their food like any other bird of prey, and at least one kind of Hawk is known, whose habit it is to feed on Bats in the evening. This is Andersson’s Pern,[145] a kind of Kite, allied to the Honey-kite of England. It is found only in the Damara Country, in South-western Africa, and in Madagascar. A far better way to distinguish Hawks from Owls is seen in the foot, as the latter have the outer toe reversible—that is to say, they can turn their outer toe backwards or forwards as they please. This is easily observed in the living birds; and any one examining a caged Owl in the Zoological Gardens will see that it sits with its toes in pairs—two in front and two behind. A Hawk cannot do this, all his toes being arranged as in a little perching bird, such as a Sparrow or a Canary, three in front and one behind. Then, again, Owls have no “after-shaft” to the feathers, a structure which most Hawks possess. The “after-shaft” is the small accessory plume, which springs from the under-side of the main feather. In some birds it is very large, in others small. It occurs on the body feathers only, and is never found in the quills or tail feathers (see p. 238). Lastly, in addition to the reversible outer toe, and the absence of an accessory plume or after-shaft, Owls may be distinguished from all other birds of prey, save one, by the proportions of their leg-bones. In the skeleton figured on p. 241 the three principal leg-bones are pointed out; and it is the length which the tarsus bears in proportion to the tibia that is here insisted on. In the Owls the tarsus is only about half the length of the tibia; this is never the case in a Hawk, in which these two bones bear different proportions the one to the other, according to the sub-family. Thus in Sparrow-Hawks and Harriers[146] the tibia and the tarsus are equal in length. In Eagles and Buzzards, Kites and true Falcons, the tibia is always much longer than the tarsus, but is never double its length, as it is in the Owls. The term “Hawk,” which has been employed throughout the foregoing sentences, is intended to apply to every bird of prey excepting the Owls, with the sole exception of the Osprey. The habits of the Osprey are noticed later on, but they may be briefly stated to be similar to those of a Sea-Eagle, its prey consisting entirely of fish, while its plumage and general appearance are also those of an Eagle, so that in many places it is popularly known as the “Fish Hawk,” or “Fishing Eagle;” but here the resemblance of the Osprey to the Eagle ends, and in its other characters it is very like an Owl. The tibia is more than double the length of the tarsus, as in the Owls; the feathers of the body have no after-shaft, as in the Owls, and the outer toe is reversible, as in the Owls. Possessing, therefore, as it does, some of the most prominent features of the Eagles, as well as some of the most striking peculiarities of the Owls, the Osprey holds an intermediate position between these two sub-orders of birds.

HEAD AND BILL OF SEA EAGLE. (After Keulemans.)

(a) bony eye-shelf; (b) cere.

The birds of prey, then, may be separated into three sub-orders:—

(a). Outer toe not reversible; tibia varying in length in proportion to the tarsus, sometimes equal to it, but never double the length of the latter; body feathers with an after-shaft or accessory plume. (American Vultures excepted.)

I. Hawks (Falcones).[147]

(b). Outer toe reversible; tibia double the length of tarsus; body feathers without an after-shaft or accessory plume; plumage compact, as in an Eagle; no facial disk.

II. Ospreys (Pandiones).[148]

(c). Outer toe reversible; tibia double the length of tarsus; body feathers without an after-shaft; plumage soft and fluffy; a facial disk.

III. Striges;[149] Owls.

The Falcones, or Hawks, include in their number more kinds of rapacious birds than the other two sub-orders. All the Vultures, the Caracaras, the Harriers, the Sparrow-Hawks, the Buzzards, Eagles, Kites, and Falcons, together numbering some four hundred different species, are classified as Falcones. Only one species of Osprey is known, which is found nearly all over the world; and about two hundred different kinds of Owls remain to represent the STRIGES.

The first sub-order is divided into two families, the first to be noticed being the Vultures (VulturidÆ), which is again sub-divided into two sections, the Vultures of the Old World (VulturinÆ) and the Vultures of the New World (SarcorhamphinÆ).

THE FIRST SUB-FAMILY OF THE VULTURIDÆ.—THE OLD WORLD VULTURES (VulturinÆ).

These Vultures are neither to be recommended for their habits nor for their personal appearance. In fact, in both these respects they are rather repulsive birds, but useful withal in hot climates, where they act as scavengers, and clear away much putrid matter and decaying substances, which but for their intervention would prove most offensive. They are all inhabitants of tropical, or at least of warm, countries; and it is only on rare occasions that they wander into the North of Europe or occur in the British Islands. Both the Old and the New Worlds have their Vultures, but the naturalist has no difficulty in telling at a glance to which hemisphere the bird he is looking at belongs, for all the Vultures of the New World have a hole through their nose—or, in other words, want the wall of bone which divides one nostril from the other; in the Vultures of the Old World this bony wall is present so that the nostrils resemble those of other ordinary birds.

BILL OF EGYPTIAN VULTURE, TO SHOW FORM OF NOSTRIL. (After Keulemans.)

Besides their perforated nostril, the American Vultures differ from the Old World species in having no after-shaft to the feathers, therein resembling the Owls. This character has led some naturalists to consider the New World Vultures as constituting a separate family, which bears the name of CathartidÆ; but although the absence of an after-shaft is a striking feature, yet the habits of the birds so closely resemble those of their Old World cousins, that it seems unnatural to separate them widely in any scheme of classification. The head of a Vulture, whatever locality he may be from, proclaims the nature of the bird at once, as it is always bare of feathers, or nearly so: sometimes a few scattered tufts of down are seen on the head and neck, but never any true feathers, as in the case of the other birds of prey. The Vultures feed on the ground, where they walk with comparative ease, their large feet being fitted for progression on the earth, and their toes not being prehensile or capable of bending to the same extent as in the other Hawks. This formation of the foot prevents them from striking down or snatching their prey, as an Eagle or a Hawk would do; and they do not carry food to their young, but devour the carcase or carrion where it falls, and then feed the nestlings by throwing up food from their crop. They are all birds of powerful flight, and are capable of sustaining a prolonged soar in the air without any apparent motion of the wings.

BILL OF TURKEY VULTURE, TO SHOW THE PERFORATED NOSTRIL.

As to the way in which Vultures discover their prey, the opinion of naturalists has for a long time been divided, and controversy has waxed hot upon the subject, the question being whether the Vulture possesses a more than usually keen sense of sight, or whether his sense of smell is so powerful as to enable him to scent a decaying carcase at a greater distance than other birds can do. The experiments of various travellers seem to prove that both the senses of sight and smell are possessed by the Vulture in no ordinary degree; but the balance of evidence seems to prove that it is by their keen sight that they generally find their food. Supposing that an animal is wounded, and escapes from the hunter, his course is marked by a Vulture soaring high in the air; another circling far away on the horizon sees the first bird fly down, and follows in his track; and so on, until a large company is feeding on the carcase. This action of the Vultures is well described by Longfellow:—

“Never stoops the soaring Vulture

On his quarry in the desert,

On the sick or wounded Bison,

But another Vulture, watching

From his high aËrial look-out,

Sees the downward plunge, and follows;

And a third pursues the second,

Coming from the invisible ether,

First a speck, and then a Vulture,

Till the air is dark with pinions.”[150]

The power of the Vulture’s sight was long disputed by the former generation of naturalists, and the celebrated Waterton wrote an article on the “Faculty of Scent in the Vulture,”[151] to prove that it was more by this means than by sight that the bird was able to discover a carcase. Waterton was well acquainted with Vultures in Demarara and in Southern Spain, and he sums up his argument as follows:—“After the repeated observations I have made in the country where it abounds, I am quite satisfied that it is directed to its food by means of its olfactory nerves coming in contact with putrid effluvium, which rises from corrupted substances through the heavier air. Those are deceived who imagine that this effluvium would always be driven to one quarter in the tropics, where the trade-winds prevail. Often, at the very time that the clouds are driving from the north-east up above, there is a lower current of air coming from the quarter directly opposite. This takes place most frequently during the night-time, in or near the woods; and it often occurs early in the morning, from sunrise till near ten o’clock, when the regular trade-wind begins to blow. Sometimes it is noticed in the evening, after sunset; and now and then during the best part of the day in the rainy season.... Vultures, as far as I have been able to observe, do not keep together in a large flock when they are soaring up and down in quest of a tainted current. Now, suppose a Mule has just expired behind a high wall, under the dense foliage of evergreen tropical trees; fifty Vultures, we will say, roost in a tree a mile from this dead Mule. When morning comes, off they go in quest of food. Ten fly, by mere chance, to the wood where the Mule lies, and manage to spy it through the trees; the rest go quite in a different direction. How are the last-mentioned birds to find the Mule? Every minute carries them farther from it. Now reverse the statement; and instead of a Mule nearly dead, let us suppose a Mule in an offensive state of decomposition. I would stake my life upon it that not only the fifty Vultures would be at the carcase next morning, but also that every Vulture in the adjacent forest would manage to get there in time to partake of the repast.” It will be seen from the above that Mr. Waterton allowed the keen sight of the Vultures to play, on some occasions, a part in their discovering food. Another observation on this subject is contained in the late Mr. C. J. Andersson’s work on the ornithology of South-western Africa. Writing on the Sociable Vulture (Otogyps auricularis), he says:—“I believe naturalists are not quite agreed as to whether Vultures hunt by sight, by scent, or by both faculties combined. I have myself no doubt that they employ the one sense as well as the other in finding their prey, though I feel inclined to give sight the preference; and I once had a very striking proof of how they employ their vision in guiding them to carrion—in this instance, however, not so much by the actual sight of the carrion (though the first discovery probably originated in that way) as by another singular contrivance. Early one morning, as I was toiling up the ascent of a somewhat elevated ridge of hills, with the view of obtaining bearings for my travelling map, and before arriving at the summit, I observed several Vultures descending near me: but thinking I had merely disturbed them from their lofty perch, I did not take any particular notice of their appearance, as the event was one of usual occurrence; but on gaining my destination, I found that the birds were not coming merely from the hill summit, but from an indefinite distance on the other side. This circumstance, coupled with the fact that I had wounded a Zebra on the preceding day in the direction towards which the Vultures were winging their way, caused me to pay more attention. The flight of the Vultures was low—at least five hundred to a thousand feet below the summit of the mountain; and on arriving near the base, they would abruptly rise without deviating from their direct course; and no sooner was the obstacle in their way thus surmounted than they again depressed their flight. Those Vultures which I saw could not have themselves seen the carrion, but simply hunted in direct sight of one another. There was a numerous arrival; and although I could not always detect the next bird as soon as I had lost sight of the previous one, yet, when at length it did come into view, it never seemed uncertain about its course. Having finished my observations, I descended, and proceeded in the direction which the Vultures had pursued; and after about half an hour’s rapid walking, I found, as I anticipated, the carcase of a Zebra, with a numerous company of Vultures busily discussing it.”[152]

Dr. Kirk, the companion of Livingstone, in his paper on the “Birds of the Zambesi Region of Eastern Tropical Africa,”[153] says that to the inexperienced hunter the Griffon is “a great annoyance. If game be left for an hour in the open plain while the men come to carry it off, the birds will descend, and in a very short time completely devour it. This is not so if it be covered over with a little grass or with branches, clearly proving that sight alone is the sense by which the birds discover their prey. If part of the animal be exposed it matters not—probably owing to its being mistaken for one asleep; nor does the presence of blood seem to guide the birds if the carcase be concealed from view.”

Lastly, to quote from Canon Tristram’s interesting essay on the “Ornithology of the Sahara:”[154] “As, happily for the traveller, Camels do not die every day under the weight of their water-skins, the Griffon does not habitually visit the desert. Still, he occasionally gives it a passing call, though, if his meal be deposited near an oasis, he is usually forestalled by the HyÆna (‘Dubba,’ Arab.), who lurks in the ‘weds.’ On one occasion a Camel in our caravan having become footsore had to be slaughtered on the spot. Our attendants selected the tenderest morsels for ‘kouskous,’ the Arab broth; and it was not until the next morning that a Vulture scented, or rather descried, his prey. That the Vulture uses the organ of sight rather than that of smell, seems to be certain from the immense height at which he soars and gyrates in the air. In this instance one solitary bird descended, and half an hour afterwards was joined by a second. A short time elapsed, and the Nubian Vulture (Otogyps nubicus) appeared, self-invited, at the feast; and before the bones were left to the HyÆna no less than nine Griffons and two Nubians had broken their fast. I should hesitate to assert that they had satisfied their appetites. I have observed the same regular succession of diners out on other occasions. May we not conjecture that the process is as follows? The Griffon who first descries his quarry descends from his elevation at once; another, sweeping the horizon at a still greater distance, observes his neighbour’s movements and follows his course; a third, still farther removed, follows the flight of the second; he is traced by another; and so a perpetual succession is kept up as long as a morsel of flesh remains over which to consort. I can conceive no other way of accounting for the numbers of Vultures which in the course of a few hours will gather over a carcase, when previously the horizon might have been scanned in vain for more than one, or at the most two, in sight. Does not this explain the immense number of Vultures who were congregated in the Crimea during the siege of Sebastopol, where the bird was comparatively scarce before? May not this habit of watching the movements of their neighbours have collected the whole race from the Caucasus and Asia Minor to enjoy so unwonted an abundance? The Arabs believe that the Vultures from all North Africa were gathered to feed on Russian Horses in the Crimea, and declare that during the war very few ‘Nissr’ were to be seen in their accustomed haunts.”

The above extracts from authentic works have been made at some length, as exhibiting the general habits of the Vultures. It remains now to notice some of the most striking forms of these birds.

THE BLACK VULTURE[155]

This is an inhabitant of Southern Europe, whence it extends on both sides of the Mediterranean to North-western India, where it is a cold weather visitant, and even to China. In its habits this bird is rather unsociable, and keeps more to the wooded districts, seldom venturing into the open country, except when attracted by the presence of some carcase, on which it feasts in company with the Griffon Vulture. It breeds on trees, constructing a large bulky nest, and only selects a rock for its breeding home when there are no trees to be found in the neighbourhood. It lays one egg, of a richly mottled red colour, two eggs being an extremely rare occurrence. In appearance they are very like those of the Golden Eagle. A story is told of the rescue by a pair of old birds of their young ones, which were in danger from the felling of the tree on which the nest was situated. It is thus related by Count von Tshusi Schmidthofen:—“The royal forester, A. Fikker, found in 1860, on the top of a giant beech in the valley of Dobrabach, in the Sinnaer district, the nest of this Vulture. When the young birds were large enough to be able to save themselves as the tree fell, orders were given to cut the beech down. The wood-cutters had worked at the tree some time, when the old birds appeared, uttering loud cries, and suddenly pounced on the nest, caught hold of the young ones in their claws and disappeared like lightning, carrying off the young (who loudly complained of the unusual mode of locomotion) before the gaze of the astonished spectators.”

GRIFFON VULTURE.

The Black Vulture measures three feet and a half in length, and is entirely black, the bare places on the head and neck being of a livid flesh colour when the bird is alive.

THE GRIFFON VULTURE.[156]

The Griffon, or Fulvous Vulture (so called from its colour), is found all over Southern Europe, and occurs occasionally at different points in Central Europe, having once been taken in the British islands off Cork Harbour; it therefore figures in the list of British birds. It ranges all over North-eastern Africa, and extends eastwards into Turkestan, Central Asia, and North-western India. As it goes eastwards the Griffon becomes a more rufous bird, and is by some naturalists considered to be a different species. In the British Museum is a very interesting specimen of this Vulture, collected by Major Denham in Bornou during his travels across Africa, being one of the comparatively few birds that have been brought from Central Africa, about the ornithology of which we do not even yet know much. Like other Vultures, the Griffon feeds on carrion, but is also stated to frequent the sea-shore in search of Crustacea and dead fish; while the South African Griffon is said to feed on Locusts and small Tortoises, the latter of which it swallows whole.[157]

This bird’s capacity for feeding is illustrated in a most amusing anecdote of Canon Tristram’s:—“For some months we possessed two Griffons taken from the nest, who at length arrived safely in England. They never attempted to leave us, differing in this respect from our LÄmmergeiers, but remained contentedly about the tents or perched on the backs of the baggage-camels en route. They took a peculiar interest in taxidermy, scrutinising, head on one side, the whole operation of bird-skinning, and perfectly aware of the moment when a morsel would be ready, exhibiting a more than ordinary excitement when they saw the skin drawn back over the head, and knew that the whole carcase would soon be cut off for them. One of these birds was of a desponding, querulous disposition, the other of a very different natural temperament, always contented and cheerful, a universal favourite in the camp, while his fellow received, I fear, many a sly kick for his complaints. They were able to fast for days; but, whenever such an opportunity as a Camel’s carcase presented itself, would be revenged on their Lent. I have seen our pet, ‘Musha Pasha,’ attack the entrails of a Camel, and, as his crop became distended, sink upon his breast, unable to stand, till at length, even this position being too much for him, he lay on his side, still eating, until, overpowered and helpless, he fell asleep. This enormous capacity for food, combined with the power of long abstinence, is a wonderful provision of creative wisdom for carrion-feeders, whose supply is so uncertain, while the necessity for the immediate removal of offensive matter is so urgent. The strength of the Vulture’s stomach is equal to its capacity, for on one occasion one of our Griffons devoured a half pound pot of arsenical soap, with no further inconvenience than a violent fit of vomiting.”

The Griffon nests on rocks, sometimes several building in company in the same neighbourhood. Its flight is majestic, and Mr. Salvin says that it is a fine sight to watch the ease with which the Griffon sails through the air; the apparently effortless extension of the wing seems amply sufficient to sustain its huge body; no flapping motion is necessary to enable it to mount to a great height. It is only on leaving a rock that a few strokes are requisite to attain the necessary impulse, after which, with primaries bent upwards by the force of the air, it performs its stately evolutions by soaring only. In alighting, the bird drops its legs some distance from the rock, and, sailing to within a few yards, it checks its velocity by two or three heavy strokes of the wing.

Among the ancient Egyptians the Griffon appears to have been a sacred bird, and its remains have been found embalmed. It is also figured on their monuments, sometimes in its natural form, sometimes with the head of a Snake. In size the European Griffon stands about three feet and a half high, and is of a general ashy fulvous colour, with black quills and tail; the under surface is creamy-brown, with a darker brown mark on the crop; the head and neck are bare, or with loosely scattered tufts of white down; and round the neck there is a white ruff.

Besides the Griffon Vulture of Europe there are four others, which seem to be distinct species, the Himalayan Griffon, the South African Griffon, RÜppell’s Griffon from Abyssinia, and the Long-billed Griffon from India. In addition to these there are the two White-backed Griffon Vultures, which have only fourteen tail-feathers, and belong to the genus Pseudogyps.

THE EARED VULTURE (Otogyps[158] auricularis[159]).

This is one of the largest species of the birds of prey found in the Old World, being exceeded in size only by the Great Condor of the Andes. It is an inhabitant of Africa, being plentifully spread over the southern portion of the Continent, and also occurring in North-Eastern Africa, whence it ranges in small numbers to Lower Nubia and the Sahara, and has even been said to occur accidentally in Europe. It has received the name of Eared Vulture on account of the folds of skin on the sides of the neck, which are found only in one other species, the Indian Vulture (O. calvus). These two kinds of Eared Vultures appear to play the part of the King Vulture of South America, the smaller Vultures, such as the Neophrons, always giving place to them, and allowing them to finish their feast before venturing to approach.

EGYPTIAN VULTURE.

The Egyptian Vulture (Neophron[160] percnopterus[161]) is also familiarly known as Pharaoh’s Chicken. It is a small bird about two feet and a half in length, white in plumage, with black wings. A great part of the face is bare and of a yellow colour. The young birds are brown. In Europe the Egyptian Vulture is a migratory bird, but it breeds in many localities in the Mediterranean region, and has even occurred once or twice on the shores of the British islands. In winter it takes itself to the Cape of Good Hope. It is much valued in certain places as a scavenger, as it devours excrementary matter, but Mr. Gurney states that its food also consists of carrion of various descriptions, and in default of such food it occasionally preys upon rats, field mice, small lizards, snakes, insects, and even earthworms. Colonel Irby observes that it is probably the foulest-feeding bird that lives, and that it is very omnivorous, devouring any animal substance, even all sorts of excrement; nothing comes amiss to it, and he has sometimes seen them feeding on the sea-shore on dead fish thrown up by the tide. The same gentleman[162] says that on their migrations they pass Gibraltar, which is one of their lines of passage, about the end of February, and they breed in the neighbourhood of that place, beginning to lay about the 1st of April. The nest is composed of a few dead sticks, always lined with wool, rags, or rubbish; and Colonel Irby states that he found about a pound of tow in one nest, and the sleeve of an old coat; while another observer says that on a foundation of branches Pharaoh’s Hen heaps rags, patches, old slippers, and whole basketfuls of camels’ hair and wool for the comfort of its offspring. The Egyptians frequently represented this species on their monuments, but do not appear to have attached any particular significance to it.

CONDOR.

In India the place of the present species is taken by the Indian Scavenger Vulture (Neophron ginginianus), and in Africa the Pileated Vulture (N. pileatus), an entirely brown bird, occurs nearly all over the continent.

THE SECOND SUB-FAMILY OF THE VULTURIDÆ.—THE AMERICAN VULTURES (SarcorhamphinÆ).

THE CONDOR (Sarcorhamphus[163] gryphus[164]).

As before mentioned, all the American Vultures can be readily distinguished by the perforation of their nostrils. The Condor is a very unmistakable species, being the largest of all the Vultures, and the male has a large comb on the head which is not developed in the female. The hind toe also is extremely small, scarcely touching the earth, and on this account the foot is less prehensile than in any other Vulture. The home of this magnificent bird is the chain of the Andes in South America, and the neighbouring countries to the west, and it is found inhabiting these mountains from Ecuador and Colombia, down to the Strait of Magellan, and again extending on the east coast as far as the mouth of the Rio Negro in Patagonia. It bears confinement well, examples being generally to be seen living in the Zoological Gardens; and some idea of the extent of wing in the Condor can occasionally be obtained when the birds are sunning themselves on their perch. The expanse in large individuals is said to reach as much as eight or nine feet. All observers agree that when seen in a wild state the flight of the Condor is truly majestic, and it is capable of ascending to an immense height, at which a man could not breathe on account of the rarefaction of the air, a state of things which does not seem to affect the Condor, who is often lost to sight amidst the clouds. The most exaggerated stories of the strength and prowess of this Vulture were circulated by the old authors, and it was even said to attack full-grown oxen. The careful observations, however, of recent travellers, have dispelled many of the fabulous stories respecting it, and it is now a well ascertained fact that the Condor does not attack full-grown animals of any size, but will devour newly-born and helpless offspring, and several of them will unite to kill the mother should she appear in a weak and sickly condition. The supposed habit, attributed to these birds, of carrying off prey in their feet, is disproved by the weakness of the last-named organs, and their utter incapacity for grasping anything: in fact the feet play a very insignificant part in the bird’s economy, the powerful bill being the chief factor in tearing a carcase to pieces. The Condor measures about three feet and a half in length, the closed wing being about twenty-nine inches. The general colour of the bird is black, the secondary quills and most of the wing-coverts being externally grey. Round the neck is a ruff of soft white down. The bare parts of the head and neck are not remarkable for any bright colour, but are blackish with traces of livid flesh colour here and there. That the Condor lays sometimes in confinement is shown by a specimen in the British Museum, which was hatched by a common hen, who sat on the egg for six weeks and two days. The nestlings are usually covered with white down.

THE KING VULTURE (Cathartes[165] papa[166]).

This is by far the handsomest of the whole family, its head and neck being covered with caruncles, which in life are orange, purple, and crimson in colour; the general plumage of the bird, too, is a delicate fawn or cream colour. It is an inhabitant of Central and Southern America, from Mexico southwards to Brazil, where it is found a little below the twentieth degree of south latitude. It appears to be rather a cleaner feeder than the Condor or other American Vultures, and frequents wooded countries instead of those rocky places in which the Condor delights. It is rarer than the last-named bird, and from its forest-loving habits is less easily observed, and it is altogether a more active and lively species. It is shy and suspicious, and is most difficult to obtain, from its habit of sitting on the tops of trees, whence it scans with ease the country around. On this account it is seldom shot, and D’Orbigny, from whose works much of the above information is derived, says that it is only captured by attracting it to a carcase, and then shooting it from an ambush. Another mode of capture, which he says is followed by the natives of Santa Cruz de la Sierra,[167] is by finding out the tree on which the King Vulture roosts, and to which it returns night after night, and then to climb up and capture the bird with gloved hands. The same observer says that it is not from any innate respect, but from fear of its powerful bill, that the Turkey Vultures pay such deference to this present bird, not venturing to commence their repast until he is satisfied, whereby he is popularly known as the “King” of the Vultures.

THE TURKEY VULTURE (Rhinogryphus[168] aura).

This is an inhabitant of North America, whence it ranges throughout Central America and the West Indian Islands down the Andean chain to the Strait of Magellan. Their habits vary somewhat with locality, for whereas in the Southern United States they act as scavengers in the towns, in Guatemala and other places in Central America they are not seen in flocks, but occur in pairs only in the forests. As in the case of the other Vultures, their food consists of carrion, and they are found in large numbers in deserts, where they obtain an ample supply of food in the animals which perish. The Turkey Vulture is about two feet and a half in length. The plumage is black with a purplish gloss, and in life the bare head and neck are of a bright red colour, which soon fades after death.

BRAZILIAN CARACARA.

THE FIRST SUB-FAMILY.—THE CARACARAS (PolyborinÆ).

All the members of this sub-family are more or less Vulturine in their habits and appearance, and many of them are carrion feeders. The name “Caracara” with which these birds are here designated is of Brazilian origin, and all the species included under the present heading are inhabitants of Central and Southern America, with the exception of the Secretary Bird of Africa. They all seem to be at home on the ground, and they differ from all other birds of prey in having a membrane which joins the base of the two outer toes to the middle one, a feature which is doubtless useful to the birds when wallowing in the marshy ground, which many of them frequent in quest of frogs, &c. The Southern Caracaras (Ibycter australis) are said to run with extreme quickness, putting out one leg before the other, and stretching forward their bodies very much like Pheasants. Mr. Darwin, who became acquainted with these birds during his voyage in the Beagle, says that their flesh is good to eat, and he gives a very interesting account of the habits of the Southern Caracara in the Falkland Islands, where they were extraordinarily tame and very mischievous, frequenting the neighbourhood of the houses to pick up all kinds of offal. If a beast were killed they congregated from all quarters like so many Vultures, and they did not hesitate to attack and capture wounded birds, on one occasion pouncing on a Dog which was lying asleep. They would also carry off miscellaneous articles which were lying on the ground. “A large black glazed hat was carried nearly a mile, as were a pair of heavy balls, used in catching wild cattle. Mr. Usborne experienced during the survey a severe loss in a small Kater’s compass, in a red morocco case, which was never recovered.” According also to Mr. Darwin, these birds were quarrelsome and extremely passionate, and it was curious to behold them, when impatient, tearing up the grass with their bills, from rage. It may be owing to their strong feelings, as described by the last-named naturalist, that the colour of the face changes in the Brazilian Caracara, concerning which a somewhat amusing incident may be related. There arrived from Patagonia at the Zoological Gardens two Caracaras, which were white instead of brown, like the Brazilian species (Polyborus tharus), and the question which troubled naturalists was, whether these Patagonian birds were a distinct species, or whether they were simply a white variety of the ordinary Brazilian bird. The latter had the bare skin of the face lemon-yellow, whereas the white birds had this part purple, and this was looked upon as one sign of their belonging to a distinct species. But one memorable day an ornithologist went up to describe the new arrivals, and to bestow on them a name, which should mark the character of the purple face. No doubt existed in his mind, for the white birds had now lived for a whole year in the Gardens, and were still white and had a purple visage, but, happening to turn his head away for one moment, he was not a little surprised, on looking back at his supposed new species, to find that the facial character had disappeared, and that the bird’s visage was now yellow. At the same moment the face of one of the Brazilian birds in the adjoining den had turned red, and hence it became clear that the Caracaras can change the colour of the bare face at will, and that the lighter-coloured specimen was only an albino after all! Besides the Caracaras, at least one other species of bird of prey changes colour in a somewhat similar way—the Bateleur Eagle,[169] which, if irritated, flushes up to the roots of its feathers, and its bare face, which is usually scarlet, becomes a deep blood-red or crimson. In the case of the latter bird the change of colour is visible not only in the visage but in the feet also, which likewise acquire a darker red than before.

THE SECRETARY BIRD (Serpentarius[170] secretarius[171]).

This is the only African representative of the Caracaras, or web-footed birds of prey, and from its general look and from its habits, no less than from some peculiar anatomical characters, it is by many good authorities considered to be a game bird, and not a Hawk at all. No one, however, who has seen a Secretary kill a Rat, and the prodigious force with which, by repeated blows of his powerful legs, sometimes springing into the air and bringing both feet down at the same moment upon his victim, he quickly reduces it to a shapeless pulp, would consider him anything but a bird of prey. Standing before a Cobra which rises to attack him, the Secretary spreads his wings out in front as a shield to guard his body, and then from behind this protection he strikes his enemy down. On account of their prowess in destroying venomous Serpents, they are protected with care by both the European and Native Governments in South Africa, and in the Cape Colony a penalty is inflicted upon any one who ventures to kill one of these useful birds. Sometimes the Secretary does not win in the fight with the Snake, for a good observer has stated that on one occasion he saw a bird suddenly leave off fighting and run to a pool of water, where he fell down dead. If the Snake bites a feather, the bird immediately pulls it out, but in the above instance the reptile had drawn blood from the point of the pinion. It is somewhat remarkable that the Secretary should have such striking power in his legs, as they are long and slender for the size of the bird, and are so brittle that it is said that, if suddenly started into a quick run, their legs will snap. The Secretary Bird is a most voracious feeder, devouring Rats, Lizards, Locusts, Snakes, Tortoises, &c., and Levaillant states that he took from the stomach of one of these birds three Serpents as long as his arm and an inch in thickness, eleven Lizards of seven or eight inches in length, and twenty-one small Tortoises of about two inches in diameter, besides a large quantity of Grasshoppers or Locusts, and other insects.

SECRETARY BIRD.

A spirited and truthful account of the habits of the Secretary was published in 1856 by the late M. Jules Verreaux, who spent upwards of fifteen years in South Africa engaged in a study of the natural history of that part of the world, and a few extracts from this paper cannot be resisted.[172] “As Nature exhibits foresight in all that she does, she has given to each animal its means of preservation. Thus the Secretary Bird has been modelled on a plan appropriate to its mode of life; and it is therefore for this purpose that, owing to the length of its legs and tarsi, its piercing eye is able to discover at a long distance the prey which, in anticipation of its appearance, is stretched on the sand or amongst the thick grass. The elegant and majestic form of the bird becomes now even more graceful; it now brings into action all its cunning in order to surprise the Snake which it is going to attack; therefore it approaches with the greatest caution. The elevation of the feathers of the neck and back of the head shows when the moment for attack has arrived. It throws itself with such force on the reptile that very often the latter does not survive the first blow. But if the bird does not succeed, and the enraged Snake draws itself up and expands, at the same time, the skin of its neck, as is the way with the more dangerous Serpents, the bird is forced to retreat, and takes a spring backwards, waiting to seize a favourable moment for recommencing the attack. Raising itself, the furious reptile moves its tongue with the quickness of lightning, and gives forth the most vehement hisses, which keep back the enemy and seem to force some respect from it: but the bird, whose courage redoubles in the same ratio that the difficulties increase, opens out its wings, and, returning to the charge, assails the reptile afresh with blows from its terrible feet, such as no one would believe, and which are not long in putting the Snake hors de combat. We have, however, sometimes seen the Snakes launch themselves on the Secretary, but, either by opening its wings, whose long primaries serve it as a kind of shield, or by jumping backwards or on one side, the bird is certain to parry the attack of its antagonist, who at last, overcome by fatigue, falls at full length on the ground. The moment is seized by the Secretary to redouble its massive blows, which, by dislocating the vertebral column, soon cause the reptile to give up the ghost. It is then that the victorious Hawk darts like an arrow, and placing its foot on the Serpent’s neck, just at the back of the head, commences to swallow it, which it does by beginning at the tail first. Nor is this a long operation, even with reptiles five or six feet in length and more than four inches in diameter; and as soon as it arrives at the head it completely smashes the skull by several blows of its bill before swallowing it.”

“Both sexes work at the construction of the nest, which is always placed on the summit of a high dense bush, more often a mimosa. It is added to each year, and it is easy to see the age of a nest by the number of fresh layers which have been added year by year. The young birds remain for six months before leaving the nest, their legs not being strong enough to support the weight of the body. During the whole of this time they are fed with great assiduity by both parents.”

The Secretary Bird stands more than four feet high, when fully grown. The general colour of the plumage is grey, with black quills; the lower back and rump are black, the upper tail-coverts white; the tail is grey, tipped with white, and crossed with two black bands; below, the colour is ashy-white, the thighs and abdomen black. From the hinder part of the crown and occiput springs an elegant crest of plumes, which the bird can raise or depress at will; they are either entirely black, or grey with a black tip. It is from these long plumes that the bird has got the name of the Secretary, from some fancied resemblance in the bird’s head to the quills which a secretary places behind his ear.

In America, the Secretary is represented by the Çariama (Çariama cristata), a bird which looks so like a game bird that, as we have said, many ornithologists place both it and the Secretary among the Gallinaceous birds, and not among the Hawks. From a consideration of its anatomy, however, both Professor Parker and Professor Sundevall determined that the Çariama is an accipitrine bird, though of a very aberrant form. Those who differ from them admit that where the Secretary is placed in the natural system the Çariama must also be located, and no one who has studied the habits of the former, either in a wild state or in captivity, can doubt for a moment that it is a veritable bird of prey, and so it follows that the Bustard-like Çariama must also be included in the same order.

THE BANDED GYMNOGENE—Habits—Its Movable Tarsi—THE HARRIERS—Distinctive Features—THE MARSH HARRIER—Habits—Its Thievish Propensities—THE HARRIER-HAWKS—Colonel Greyson’s Account of their Habits—THE CHANTING GOSHAWKS—Why so Called—Habits—THE TRUE GOSHAWKS—Distinctive Characters—THE GOSHAWK—Distribution—In Pursuit of its Prey—Appearance—THE SPARROW-HAWKS—Distinctive Characters—THE COMMON SPARROW-HAWK—Habits—Appearance—THE BUZZARDS—Their Tarsus—THE COMMON BUZZARD—Where Found—How it might be turned to Account—Food—Its Migrations—Habits—Appearance—THE HARPY.

THE SECOND SUB-FAMILY OF THE FALCONIDÆ.—THE LONG-LEGGED HAWKS (AccipitrinÆ).

ALL the Hawks included under this heading are remarkable for their long legs, in which the tibial bone and the tarsus are about equal in length. In all the other Hawks, Eagles, Kites, Buzzards, and Falcons, the tibia is always longer than the tarsus.

The Long-legged Hawks are not such powerful birds of prey as the Eagles or Falcons, and do not possess, as a rule, the same dash and courage in pursuing their quarry, many of them feeding on a low kind of diet, and being robbers of eggs and destroyers of young birds. The birds of prey belonging to this sub-family are—1. The Gymnogenes; 2. The Harriers; 3. The Goshawks; 4. The Sparrow-Hawks.

THE BANDED GYMNOGENE[173] (Polyboroides[174] typicus).

From its general appearance, especially in its naked yellow face, this remarkable Hawk is considered to be a close ally of the Secretary Bird; but the proportions of its legs and its habits proclaim it to be nearly related to the Harriers. Two kinds of Gymnogenes are known, one inhabiting Africa, and the other being found in Madagascar. The food of the present species appears to consist of Frogs and Lizards, and at times it walks over the ground which has been recently burnt, in pursuit of insects and small reptiles; at other times it will sit for a long time on stumps by pools of water, watching for Frogs, which in such situations form its favourite food. The Gymnogenes are remarkable in the class of birds for being able to put their leg “out of joint” at will (that is to say, they can bend the tarsus backwards just as they please); and this is a fact which may be accepted as a certainty, since its truth has been tested by many trusty and independent observers. One of these, the late M. Jules Verreaux, states that the tarsi are movable at the “knee”-joint toward the front from behind, a provision which, from the facility it affords the bird for drawing up Frogs out of the marsh-holes by means of its talons, is of no little service to it. The exceedingly compressed toes of this species also enable it to introduce its long tarsi into the narrow crevices of the rocks. He saw it twist and turn its legs in all directions in capturing its prey in marshy places. Mr. Thomas Ayres also says that “the legs of this bird bend backward at the knee in an extraordinary manner, very much as if they were out of joint.”

The Banded Gymnogene is nearly twenty-four inches in length, and is of a light grey colour, with black wings, the secondaries being grey like the back, with a black band before the tip; the lower back is white barred with black; the tail black with a white tip and a white bar across the middle; the throat and chest are grey like the back, and the rest of the under surface is white barred with black. The cere and bare space round the eye are yellow when the bird is alive.

THE HARRIERS (Circus).

All the Harriers have a facial disc as in the Owls, though not so distinct as in the latter group of birds. In both, however, the disc is formed by a ruff of soft, close-set plumes, which encircle the face; and hence in most classifications the Harriers have been considered as being closely allied to the Owls, on account of their having this “facial disc.” Their structure and habits, however, entirely do away with the idea of there being any real affinity between these two groups of accipitrine birds.

Before the draining of the fens in England, Harriers were by no means uncommon in certain localities; but they are becoming rarer year by year, as each favourite haunt passes from them under the dominion of the agriculturist. Three kinds were found in England, of which the Hen Harrier (Circus cyaneus) was the rarest; Montagu’s Harrier (C. pygargus) was the most plentiful and the most widely distributed; and the Marsh Harrier, or Moor Buzzard (C. Æruginosus), the most powerful. This is the species which has held its own best, as it is still found breeding in some few places in the United Kingdom. The habits of all the Harriers are very similar, and the genus Circus is probably—with the exception of the Peregrine Falcons—the most universally distributed of any Raptorial birds, for there is scarcely any part of the world where a Harrier is not found.

THE MARSH HARRIER (Circus Æruginosus).

This is an inhabitant of the Old World, where it enjoys a wide range. It is one of the greatest robbers of eggs and young birds, being, in countries where it is still plentiful, a great nuisance to the sportsman, as, says Colonel Irby, “slowly hunting along in front, it puts up every Snipe and Duck that lies in its course, making them unsettled and wild.”[175] The same authority furnishes the following interesting particulars about the habits of the present species:—“In Andalusia, as well as in Morocco, over all low wet ground, the Marsh Harrier is to be seen in vast numbers, particularly in winter. Great quantities remain to breed, sometimes as many as twenty nests being within three hundred yards of one another. The latter, loosely constructed with dead sedges, vary very much in size and depth, and are usually placed amidst rushes in swamps, but sometimes on the ground among brambles and low brushwood, always near water, though occasionally far from marshes. They begin to lay about the end of March, and at that time fly up a great height, playing about, and continually uttering their wailing cry. The eggs are bluish-white, and usually four or five in number; they certainly vary in size and shape, and are often much stained. Like the eggs of all the Harriers that I am acquainted with, and many others of the Accipitres, when blown and held up to the light they show a bluish tinge. I once found a nest containing only one egg nearly ready to hatch, and saw another with six eggs (three quite fresh, and the other three hard sat on). I believe that if the first set of eggs be taken they lay again in a fresh nest, as I found sets of fresh eggs as late as the 2nd of May.

MARSH HARRIER.

“Cowardly and ignoble, they are the terror of all the poultry which are in their districts, continually carrying off chickens, and, like other Harriers, are most terribly destructive to the eggs and young of all birds. On account of these propensities, I never let off a Marsh Harrier unless it spoiled sport to fire at one. Sometimes, when at Casa Vieja, and the Snipe were scarce, we used to lie up in the line of the Harriers’ flight to their roosting-places; for they always take the same course, and come evening after evening within five minutes of the same time. Upon one occasion a friend and myself killed eleven, and during the visit accounted for over twenty. I also upon every possible opportunity destroyed the nest and shot the old ones; but it was the labour of Sisyphus, for others immediately appeared. However, there was a visible diminution of their numbers at Casa Vieja. I never saw rats in their nests or crops, and believe they have not the courage to kill them; small snakes, frogs, wounded birds, eggs, and nestlings unable to fly, form the main part of their prey. I have seen the Marsh Harrier hawking over the sea about two hundred yards from the shore, where there was shallow water, but could not see what they were taking.”

THE HARRIER-HAWKS (Micrastur[176]).

These constitute a little genus of Hawks peculiar to the New World, where they form a perfect link between the Harriers and the Goshawks. In form they are stoutly-built birds like the latter, while they retain the facial ruff of the Harriers, and hence the name of Harrier-Hawk adopted for them here. Their habits are well described by a good observer, the late Colonel Greyson, of the U.S. Army, who writes of the largest species of the genus, the Harrier-Hawk (Micrastur semitorquatus):—“Among the great variety of Hawks to be met with in a single day’s excursion in the locality of Mazatlan, none are so easily recognised as this peculiar and interesting species. I have found it only in the heavy forests, or the immediate vicinity of a thickly-wooded country, where its slender form and lengthened tail attract our attention as it swiftly glides through the tangled woods with that remarkable ease which we have often noticed in the Sharp-shinned Hawk (A. fuscus). It appears to be strictly arboreal in its habits, and possessed of wonderful activity, either in springing from branch to branch without opening its wings, or rapidly darting through the intricacies of the bush with apparently but little difficulty. I have seldom seen one of these Hawks in an open country, and have never seen one flying higher than the tree tops, where they are met with. Its wings are rather short, and its flight is performed by rapidly repeated strokes, only for a short distance at a time. It preys upon various species of wood birds, which it captures by darting upon them on the ground or in the bushes; but the Chachalaca is its favourite game. This is a gallinaceous bird, or wild chicken, about the size of, or lighter than, the common hen, and is entirely arboreal, seldom running upon the ground, but is able by its peculiarly-formed feet to cling to, or spring rapidly through, the thickest branches with great agility; but this Hawk follows it with equal facility, until an opportunity offers to strike its prey, then both come to the ground together, the Hawk being the lighter bird. I witnessed a scene of this kind that took place when I was endeavouring to get a shot at a Chachalaca, as it was jumping about the very thick branches of an acacia overgrown with lianas; it appeared to be in great distress, uttering its harsh notes of alarm, and spreading its fan-shaped tail. Suddenly I saw one of these Hawks pounce upon it; when with harsh screams of terror and pain the Chachalaca dragged its captor to the ground, where they struggled for a few moments, but the unfortunate bird was soon overcome. The struggling and screams of the Chachalaca created a great commotion among the denizens of the woods; far and near were heard the harsh cries of other members of its family, and the Urraca Magpie, with streaming tail and ludicrous gesticulations, as well as the Blue-back Jay, and other birds in the neighbourhood, gathered around to witness the scene of rapine. Suddenly appeared in the midst of this clamour a larger Hawk (Buteo Harrisi, Aud.), which rushed at once upon the captor of the Chachalaca. Unable to withstand so heavy a charge, he was compelled to give up his honestly captured prey to a superior force, thus proving the old adage that ‘might is right.’ The slender but compact figure of our present subject was now seen perched upon a neighbouring bough, scrutinising, with a vicious eye, the more powerful but less active bird of prey, as he vainly attempted to bear off the lifeless form of the Chachalaca; but there was one yet mightier than he. I observed it for a few moments, then shot it, as also the Long-tailed Hawk, thus securing all three.

“They build their nest of dry twigs and moss, which is placed in a very tall tree, but below the higher branches. The only nest I have seen was inaccessible, therefore I regret that I am unable to describe the eggs.”

THE CHANTING GOSHAWKS (Melierax[177]).

These birds are met with in Africa only, and they have received the name of “Chanting” Goshawks from their song, which has been stated by the French traveller, Levaillant, to be of considerable power, for he says he has heard the male of the Cape species (Melierax canorus) sing for hours together in the twilight of morning and evening, and sometimes through the night. This, however, has been questioned by Mr. Layard, who is well known as an authority on African birds, and who observed the species in some abundance in certain parts of South Africa. According to this observer, the bird will perch on the top of a high tree, utter its “mellow piping whistle,” and fly off again. He has also heard it call when flying. Now, although the Chanting Goshawks may not have such powers of song as have been credited to them, it is certain that they really have a more varied note than is the case with other Goshawks, and the Red-faced Goshawk (Melierax gobar) is said to whistle very much and better than M. canorus. About five different species of Chanting Goshawks are known, all being from Africa: hence the genus Melierax is one of those forms characteristic of the Ethiopian region, which embraces Africa below the Sahara desert. One species only, the Many-banded Goshawk (Melierax polyzonus), a frequent bird in Abyssinia and Senegambia, is known to wander beyond the limits of the above-named region, as it occurs in Mogador, whence living specimens have been more than once sent to the Zoological Gardens.

The habits of the Chanting Goshawks are very similar to those of the ordinary Goshawks of more northern climates, the larger species feeding on Quails, Francolins, and other small game, reptiles, and locusts, while the less powerful kinds devour small birds and reptiles. The colour of the plumage is a pearly-grey in the South African Chanting Goshawk (M. canorus), the belly being white with greyish cross-lines; the rump is white; the primary quills black; tail dusky, tipped with white and crossed by broad white bars; the cere and legs are red; the iris dark brown. It measures about three feet in length. This style of colouring is found in all the species, excepting one small one, which is entirely black all over, save some white spots on the tail, and is known as the Black Goshawk (Melierax niger).

THE TRUE GOSHAWKS (Astur).

These are represented nearly all over the world, every country having one or more species of the genus Astur, excepting the continent of South America, which possesses only two kinds, both of them rare and of limited range. More than thirty different species of the genus have been described, and they present great differences in size and style of coloration, their habits varying equally, according to the strength and power of the birds; but they are all remarkable for a very sturdy bill, and thick-set legs and sharp talons. A Goshawk may always be told by the latter characters, and by its short toes, which are perhaps smaller in proportion to the size of the bird than in any other group of the birds of prey.

These birds, and the Sparrow-Hawks, have very short wings, and have not the same power of flight as in the true Falcons, which are long-winged birds; and hence, in the old days of falconry, they were never considered of such value as the Peregrine in the chase. They were also called Hawks of the “fist,” as they were flown at game from the hand, instead of soaring down on the quarry from aloft.

THE GOSHAWK (Astur palumbarius).

This is the largest and most powerful of all the genus, as it is also the best known, being found all over the northern parts of Europe and Asia. It used to be of more frequent occurrence in Britain formerly than it is now; and although it can only nest in this country on the rarest occasions in the present day, the author was introduced to an old gamekeeper on the Marquis of Huntly’s estate at Aboyne, who perfectly remembered the Goshawk breeding regularly at Glentanner. A young bird is still captured now and then in autumn, one of the last instances being that of a young male, who was captured in an area at Hampstead, on the 3rd of August, 1872, and is now in the British Museum.

It will feed on nearly every kind of bird and animal that it is able to catch, and in falconry it is principally employed to take Hares and Rabbits; it will also take Pheasants and Partridges, a great number of these latter birds being killed by the Goshawk in its wild state. It is able to pursue its quarry with great dexterity through a wooded country, and it possesses great powers of abstinence, so that, if its prey escapes into cover for the time, the Hawk will often wait for its re-appearance, and will generally exhaust the patience of the quarry, and succeed in capturing it. During the daytime it remains solitary in dark fir-forests, and comes out to feed in the morning and evening. The nest is often a huge structure, being added to year by year; and an immense nest is figured in Professor Newton’s “Ootheca Wolleyana.” Some idea of the size may be gained from the story told by Mr. Wolley, who climbed up to one that was placed a good height up in a large Scottish fir, and when he stood on the same branch with the nest, the latter still reached several inches above his head, so that the building of this nest had probably been the work of several years.

The old birds are alike in plumage; but the female, as is the case with all Goshawks, is larger than the male, measuring about two feet in length, while the male does not exceed twenty inches; the wing also, which is about twelve inches in the male, exceeds fourteen in the female. The colour is grey, the head black, the sides of the face white, streaked with black lines; below, the under surface of the body is white, barred across with black cross-bars of ashy-brown; the under tail-coverts are white; quills and tail ashy-brown, the tail feathers tipped with white; cere yellow; bill bluish; iris orange. The young birds differ considerably from the adults, being rufous below, with longitudinal streaks of dark brown; the upper surface is brown, all the feathers being margined with reddish-white.

GOSHAWK.

In North America, a bird very similar to the Goshawk takes its place; and a third species of the same group is found in Madagascar only. It is, however, principally in the Malayan Archipelago that the greatest number of species occur, nearly every island possessing a Goshawk peculiar to itself.

THE SPARROW-HAWKS (Accipiter).

These may almost be called miniature Goshawks, as they are not only short-winged birds like the latter, but they even have the same style of plumage, consisting generally of a dark-grey back, a barred under surface, and a piercing yellow eye. They may, however, be distinguished from the Goshawks by their small, weak bill, and long, slender, middle toe. With the exception of some of the Oceanic Islands, Sparrow-Hawks are found all over the world, being plentiful even in South America, where the rarity of the Goshawks has already been alluded to.

THE COMMON SPARROW-HAWK (Accipiter nisus).

This is an active and plucky little bird, which still holds its own in England, notwithstanding the raids made upon its nest, and the destruction of old birds by keepers. Nor can it be denied that the Sparrow-Hawk, hatching its young about the time when the young chickens and Pheasants are also being reared, will occasionally make a swoop on the pheasantry, and carry off the chicks to feed its own offspring. The principal food of this Hawk is small birds, in the pursuit of which it is so eager that it has several times been known to dash through a glass window, and be caught in the room; while Messrs. Salvin and Brodrick, in their work on British Falconry, state that they have “known a trained Sparrow-Hawk force itself to such an extent into a blackthorn bush, where it had killed a bird, as to require to be cut out.” Like the Goshawk, it is often trained for hawking, but is a much more delicate bird to rear, and requires careful management when young. Nevertheless, a well-trained Sparrow-Hawk will account for a considerable number of birds; and in the work of the above-mentioned authors is given an instance of one Hawk having killed 327 head in less than two months, consisting of Sparrows, Blackbirds, Thrushes, a few Partridges, and Linnets, more than two-thirds of the number being Sparrows.

In size the female Sparrow-Hawk is considerably larger than the male, measuring nearly sixteen inches in length, and nine inches and a half in the wing. She is generally paler grey, never so blue as in the male, nor is she so red underneath. A sign of age, by which a mature hen Sparrow-Hawk may be known, is the presence of a tuft of rufous plumes on the flanks, which is feebly developed in the young bird, but is a conspicuous feature in the adult.

SPARROW-HAWK. (After Keulemans)

The male is bluish slate-colour above, the quills browner and barred across with darker brown, these bars being very distinct below; the tail is barred with blackish-brown, and tipped with white; cheeks and ear-coverts are rufous; under surface of body whitish, with narrow bars of bright rufous, the under tail-coverts white, as are also the under wing-coverts and axillaries, these two latter parts being spotted with brown. Young birds are brown with rufous edges to the feathers; underneath they are rufous, barred with brown on the flanks and breast, the throat and fore-neck streaked with the same colour. The bars on the tail are five in number in a young male, but as the bird increases in age the number of bars decreases, and is generally only four in a very old bird: the same takes place in the female. The range of the Common Sparrow-Hawk is very similar to that of the Goshawk, being extended all over Europe and Northern Asia, and into Northern China and North-western India. Neither of the birds go to South Africa, and range into the north-eastern portion of that continent only in winter.

These Hawks constitute a numerous assemblage of the birds of prey, and lead on from the long-legged Hawks of the previous sub-family to the Eagles, ending with the Great Harpy, which is, perhaps, the most powerful bird of prey in the world. All the Buzzards have the tibia much longer than the tarsus, but they may be distinguished from all the Eagles, Kites, and Falcons by having the back of the tarsus “plated,” and not “reticulated.” In the accompanying woodcuts is shown the hinder aspect of a Buzzard’s tarsus (figure on p. 274), by which it will be seen that the scales are arranged in plates, very differently from that which takes place in the tarsus of an Eagle (figure on p. 274), where the scales are reticulated.[178]

The Buzzards are more numerous in the northern parts of the world than in the tropics, and a large decrease in the number of species takes place in Central and Southern America, whilst in Oceania and Australia they are altogether absent. As a rule, they are birds of plain plumage and sluggish habits, possessing neither the courage of the Eagles, nor the dash and adroitness of the Falcons, in capturing their prey. Africa produces some species which, as regards plumage, are an exception to the general rule, the Augur and Jackal Buzzards (Buteo augur and Buteo jackal) being rather handsome birds, their plumage being a mixture of black and chestnut.

HIND VIEW OF TARSUS OF BUZZARD, SHOWING THE PLATED ARRANGEMENT OF SCALES (A).

THE COMMON BUZZARD (Buteo[179] vulgaris).

This is a strictly European bird, although it has been stated to occur in Central Asia, and to sometimes wander into North-eastern Africa. Like all other birds of prey, it is rather rare in Great Britain, but it still breeds in certain localities, although the great majority of specimens which are killed in Britain are found in the fall of the year. The power of the Common Buzzards to attack large game is very limited, and Mr. Robert Gray[180] observes:—“To many persons it will seem unwise, I dare say, to call this Buzzard a useful bird in game preserves, yet I cannot but think that if the experiment were made of allowing it to fulfil the ends for which Nature designed it, our native game birds would benefit by the trial. So far as my own observations have extended, the Common Buzzard is just the kind of instrument wanted to clear off sickly young birds, which, on arriving at maturity, yield an offspring of a degenerate breed. Of somewhat sluggish habits, it does not care to interfere with strong-winged birds, being content with those that, through wounds or a naturally feeble constitution, are unable to save themselves. In this way only strong birds are left, and a healthy breed ensues. Let any of our proprietors of moors, who are jealous of the daring prowess of Eagles and lordly Peregrines, act upon this hint, and I will venture to say we should have fewer instances of disease amongst game birds to chronicle.”

HIND VIEW OF TARSUS OF SERPENT EAGLE, SHOWING THE RETICULATED ARRANGEMENT OF SCALES.

Although the Buzzard does not quarter the ground like a Harrier, and search for its prey on the wing, it may not unfrequently be seen circling in the air at a considerable height, generally over the place which contains its nest, but as a rule it perches on some stone or similar resting-place, whence it watches for its prey. When flying it utters a clear loud cry, which has been described as “mewing.” Its principal food consists of Field Mice, but it also devours Moles, young birds, the caterpillars of Hawk Moths (SphingidÆ), Grasshoppers, and it will also occasionally feed on carrion, or on dead fish cast up on the sea-shore. When migrating in the autumn, which it does in considerable numbers together, a good many are caught for the purposes of food, and the manner of catching them is thus described by Nilsson in his work on the birds of Sweden:—“In October, when they pass through SkÅne on their passage to the south, they remain for some time on the outermost point of land to await a suitable westerly wind to cross. Large numbers collect and roost at night in the trees (especially in the willows) which grow there. When the darkness sets in, two men go in company to catch them, one with a sack, and the other with a stout cudgel. The latter climbs quietly up into the tree, where he can just distinguish the bird, whilst the other remains below; and so soon as the climber has got up to where he can reach a bird, he catches it by the legs with the left hand, and either twists its neck with his right hand, or stuns it with a blow of the cudgel, and throws it down to his companion on the ground, who crams it into the sack. In this manner two men can catch thirty or forty in the evening, or, according to Burgomaster C., as many even as seventy or eighty; and Captain E. relates that twenty were obtained one evening from the same tree. They are easiest to catch when it is dark and blowing hard, so that the bird cannot easily hear the noise. In all, many hundreds are caught annually, some of which are cooked fresh or made into soup, but most are salted down and kept for use during the winter.”

COMMON BUZZARD.

The nest of the Buzzard is generally placed on some non-evergreen tree at various heights from the ground, but in Scotland it builds on rocks. The usual number of eggs is three or four, and these are a bluish-white, with reddish blotches. They vary a good deal in colour, some being rather richly marked, while others are almost colourless. The time of breeding is generally the month of April, or in severe seasons, early in May. A Crow’s nest is occasionally taken possession of. When the bird makes its own nest, this is formed of large branches with a lining of grass, occasionally of a few feathers. No bird varies more than the Buzzard in plumage, and many beautiful variations in its dress take place before the adult plumage is gained. The old bird is almost entirely brown above and below, the breast and abdomen generally having a more or less barred appearance; the quills are brown, banded with darker brown, and shaded with grey on their outer aspect; the tail is ashy-brown, more or less inclining to rufous, and having twelve or thirteen bars of darker brown. Young birds have a great deal of white about their plumage, some of them being nearly cream-coloured. The size of the adults is about twenty-two inches, and the sexes vary a little in dimensions, the wing of the female being perhaps one inch longer than that of the male.

The great utility of the Buzzard in destroying Mice ought to render it an object of protection and encouragement, for the number of small Mammals destroyed by these birds is immense. Brehm calculates that when they have young they will destroy at least one hundred Mice a day, and mentions that thirty Field Mice have been taken from the crop of a single bird.

THE HARPY (Thrasatus[181] harpyia[182]).

THE HARPY.

Although from its size and courage this bird is generally called the Harpy Eagle, it is evident from its structure that it is a Buzzard, as it possesses the “plated” tarsi of the latter group of birds. It is an inhabitant of the New World, from Mexico through Central America to Brazil and Bolivia. It is a very destructive bird, causing great damage to the flocks, and even destroying calves, whence it is an object of detestation to the stock-keepers in Mexico. It also feeds on deer and on the large Macaws which are found in the forest it frequents. It stands more than three feet and a half high, and has a large crest, which, together with its powerful talons and glittering eye, gives the bird an imposing aspect even in captivity. In the adult bird the coloration is ashy-grey, inclining in very old examples to silvery grey relieved by the dark ash-coloured wings and tail.

CHAPTER V.
EAGLES AND FALCONS.

THE THIRD SUB-FAMILY OF THE FALCONIDÆ.—THE EAGLES (AquilinÆ).

AS already explained, the Eagles may be distinguished from the Buzzards by their reticulated tarsus; otherwise the proportions of the leg-bones are similar, the tibia being considerably longer than the tarsus.

THE BEARDED EAGLE, OR LÄMMERGEIER (GypaËtus barbatus).

The generic name of this Eagle is derived from two Greek words (???, a Vulture, ?et??, an Eagle), and no name could have been better chosen, for with the structure of an Eagle it combines many of the habits of a Vulture, and has many ways in common with the Egyptian Vulture (Neophron percnopterus). In Europe it is found only in the mountainous parts of those countries bordering the Mediterranean basin, and is now nearly extinct in Switzerland. In the mountains of Spain, however, it is still to be met with in some quantities, and Mr. Howard Saunders states that one or two pairs may be found in every range of mountains. In Sardinia it is said by Mr. Basil Brooke to be decidedly common, and during one of his visits to that island he obtained a very curious nestling bird covered with down. “A pair of these birds,” says Mr. Brooke, “are in possession of every separate range of hills, which they appear to regard as their own territory, and from which they are seldom to be found far distant. They are generally to be seen singly or in pairs; but now and then I have observed three, and on one occasion four together. As a rule they are most decidedly mountain birds, but occasionally a single bird may be seen hunting over the plains and cultivated lands, not flying more than one hundred yards high. The nest of one found on the 18th of April was built on a broad ledge of a precipitous cliff, about three hundred feet high, within twenty feet of the top, and was completely sheltered from the severity of the weather by a large overhanging piece of rock. After some trouble I discovered a way by which, with a little care, I managed to get on the ledge, much to the discomfort of the solitary inmate—a young nestling, covered as yet with a pale yellowish-brown down. The nest itself was an accumulation of dried sticks, with a cup-shaped hollow in the middle, and had evidently been used for years. In it, and on the surrounding ledge, were great quantities of the leg-bones and feet of goats, &c., and a part of a fox’s lower jaw; these being in all stages of putrefaction, the smell was abominable. The old female on my first visit to the nest sat extremely close, and although I was standing over her within seven or eight yards, would not leave her young until I fired a shot, upon which she dashed off, dropping almost perpendicularly, and was out of range before I could fire. She flew over the valley and lit upon a high-projecting, rocky pinnacle, upon which I could see her through the telescope, sitting quietly watching all my proceedings. She returned to the nest shortly afterwards, on my having retired to a little distance.”

In Algeria the LÄmmergeier is said to feed largely on Land Tortoises, which it carries to a great height in the air, and drops upon a convenient rock, so as to break the shell. So much has been written upon the habits of this bird that it would be impossible to give here one tithe of the interesting notes which have been published in various works and periodicals; but no history of the species, however brief, would be complete without a passing mention of the little girl who was said to have been carried off in childhood by one of these birds. The history, believed by him to be well authenticated, is related by Naumann as follows.—“Anna Zurbuchen, of Hatchern, in Bern Oberland, born in 1760, was taken out by her parents, when she was nearly three years old, when they went to collect herbs. She fell asleep, and the father put his straw hat over her face and went to his work. Shortly after, when he returned with a bundle of hay, the child was gone; and the parents and peasants sought her in vain. During this time Heinrich Michel, of Unterseen, was going on a wild path to WÄppesbach, and suddenly heard a child cry. He ran towards the sound, and a Bearded Vulture rose, scared by him, from a mound, and soared away over the precipice. On the extreme edge of the latter, below which a stream roared, and over whose edge any moment would have precipitated it, Michel found the child, which was uninjured, except on the left arm and hand, where the bird had probably clutched it; its shoes, stockings, and cap were gone. This occurred on the 12th of July, 1763. The place where the child was found was about 1,400 paces distant from the tarn where it had been left asleep. The child was afterwards called LÄmmergeier-Anni, and married Peter Frutiger, a tailor in Gewaldswyl, where she was still living in 1814.”

The circumstantial way in which the above narrative runs appears to leave little doubt of its reality, but it is difficult to give it credence, as the LÄmmergeier has but little power in its feet, which resemble those of the Vultures; and most of the stories of its prowess have been discredited by the researches of modern naturalists. Dr. Brehm observes:—“To my intense astonishment, the Spanish hunters did not regard this bird in the slightest degree as a bold, merciless robber: all asserted that it fed on carrion, especially bones, only attacking living animals when driven by necessity. They called it ‘Quebranta-Huesos,’ or the ‘Bone-smasher,’ and assured me that this favourite food was broken in a singular manner. My later observations proved nothing which would justify my treating their statements as otherwise than correct, so I was forced to come to the conclusion that the LÄmmergeier had been much maligned. Since my first account of this bird, I have read a number of communications from other observers, and gather from the whole that the Bearded Vulture is nought else than a weak, cowardly bird of prey, gifted neither in mind nor body to any great extent, and one that but rarely carries away small mammals. Its food usually consists of bones and other carrion.”

Mr. Hudleston met with the LÄmmergeier in Greece, where, however, it was not common, and he writes of its habits as observed by him:—“He is not a demonstrative bird like the Griffon, who may be seen sailing about at a great height in the air, sometimes alone, but more often in troops of from half a dozen to fifty, revolving in endless circles round each other, that no corner may remain unseen. The LÄmmergeier, on the contrary, may be observed floating slowly, at a uniform level, close to the cliffs of some deep ravine, where his shadow is perhaps projected on the wall-like rocks. If the ravine has salient and re-entering angles, he does not cut across from point to point, but preserves the same distance from the cliff; and when he disappears in any natural fissure, you feel sure of the very spot where he will emerge on turning the corner of the precipice. Marrow-bones are the dainties he loves the best; and when the other Vultures have picked the flesh off any animal, he comes in at the end of the feast and swallows the bones, or breaks them and swallows the pieces, if he cannot get the marrow out otherwise. The bones he cracks by taking them to a great height and letting them fall on a stone. This is probably the bird that dropped a Tortoise on the bald head of poor old Æschylus. Not, however, that he restricts himself, or the huge black infant that he and his mate are bringing up, in one of the many holes with which the limestone precipice abounds, to marrow, turtle, bones, and similar delicacies: neither lamb, hare, nor kid comes amiss to him—though, his power of claw and beak being feeble for so large a bird, he cannot tear his meat like other Vultures and Eagles. I once saw a mature bird of this species which had evidently swallowed a bone, or something uncommonly indigestible, close to the abattoir at Athens. He was in a very uncomfortable attitude, and appeared to be leaning on his long tail for support. After riding round in gradually decreasing circles till within ten yards, I dropped off horseback and made a rush at him, but he just managed to escape, and then rising slowly till about the height of the Acropolis, made off towards the gorge of PhylÆ, where there is an eyry.

“The LÄmmergeier has an extremely ugly countenance; this becomes perfectly diabolical when he is irritated, and shows the bright red round his eyes. Altogether, what with his black beard, rufous breast, and long, dark tail, he is an awful-looking beast, and has the reputation of committing divers evil deeds—such, for instance, as pushing lambs and kids, and even men, off the rocks, when they are in ticklish situations. Nevertheless, he is a somewhat cowardly bird, has a feeble, querulous cry, and will submit to insults from a Falcon not a fourth his size or weight.”

Von Tschudi says that in Switzerland it will capture Hares, Martens, Squirrels, Crows, and Woodcocks, and he states that a stomach was found to contain five pieces of Bullock’s ribs two inches thick and from six to nine inches long, a lump of hair, and the leg of a young Goat from the knee to the foot. The bones were perforated by the gastric juice, and partly reduced to powder. The stomach of another LÄmmergeier, examined by Mr. Schinz, contained the large hip-bone of a Cow, the skin and fore-quarters of a Chamois, many smaller bones, some hair, and a Heath-cock’s claws. Should a LÄmmergeier see an old Chamois or a Sheep or Goat grazing near a precipice, it will whirl round and round, trying to torment and frighten the creature till it runs to the edge of the cliff; and then, falling down upon it, the bird not unfrequently succeeds in pushing it into the abyss below with one stroke of its wings. Diving down after its mangled victim, it will begin by picking out its eyes, and then proceed to tear open and devour the body. It is only the smaller class of booty, such as Foxes, Lambs, or Marmots, which can be carried off by the LÄmmergeier, as its feet and claws, as we have already remarked, are comparatively weak.[183]

In the Himalayas, where the species is also tolerably plentiful, its habits vary somewhat, and it not unfrequently comes close to habitations for offal or bones, and behaves in a very Vulturine manner. Captain Hutton writes:—“Marvellous, indeed, are the stories told, both by natives and Europeans, of the destructive habits of this bird, and both accounts, I fully believe, have scarcely a grain of truth in them: all I can positively say on the point, however, is that I have known the bird well in its native haunts for thirty years and more, and never once, in all that time, have I seen it stoop to anything but a dead carcase. As to carrying off hens, dogs, lambs, or children, I say the feat would be utterly impossible, for the creature does not possess the strongly-curved, sharp-pointed claws of the Eagle, but the far straighter and perfectly blunt talons of the Vulture. Day after day I have seen them sweeping by along the face of the hill, like the wandering Albatross at sea, and, like it, ever in search of offal, which, when found, is not swept off the ground after the manner of the Kite, but the bird alights upon it, as it would upon a Bullock, and then, if the morsel is worth having, devours it on the spot, and again launches itself upon its wide-spread wings and sails away as before. There is no sudden stooping upon a living prey, as with the Falcon tribe, but its habits and manners in this respect are, as far as I have seen, entirely Vulturine.”

The LÄmmergeier measures about three feet and a half in length, and its outspread wings often extend to as much as nine feet in expanse. A second species is found in Africa, the Southern LÄmmergeier (GypaËtus ossifragus), which differs from the European one, in having the tarsus bare, instead of being feathered to the toes.

THE TRUE EAGLES (Aquila).

In Australia no true Eagle is found, but a very powerful bird called the WEDGE-TAILED EAGLE (UroaËtus[184] audax[185]) inhabits that country, differing from all its more northern relations in its very long and wedge-shaped tail, which is like that of the LÄmmergeier.

The true Eagles have a very powerful bill, with a festoon distinctly marked in the edge of the upper mandible, which is, however, different from the toothed bill of the Falcons, to be considered presently. They nearly all possess a large bony shelf over the eye, which may serve to protect that organ from the sunlight during some of the aerial excursions the bird makes.

The orb of the eye in the Eagles is supported by a ring of bony plates, numbering fifteen in the Golden Eagle. These bony plates are capable of slight motion upon each other. The figure represents the crystalline lens of the same bird, the lens being subject to great variety of form in different birds. In the Eagle the proportion of the axis to the diameter of the lens is as 3810 to 5710; in the Eagle Owl, which seeks its prey at twilight, the relative proportions of the lens are as 6710, to 7810; and in the Swan, which has to select its food under water, the proportions of the lens are as 3 to 3810. Birds have also the power of altering the degree of the convexity of the cornea. With numerous modifications of form, aided by delicate muscular arrangement, birds appear to have the power of obtaining such variable degrees of extent or intensity of vision as are most in accordance with their peculiar habits and necessities.[186]

In these birds is found a return of that difference in the size of the sexes which was so noticeable in the Sparrow-Hawks, for in the Eagles the female is decidedly larger than the male. There are two convenient groups into which the Eagles may be divided, according as they have feathered or unfeathered legs. All the true Eagles belong to the first section, all the less noble and Serpent-eating kinds to the latter section. Although they are birds of grand physique, it is a question whether Eagles deserve the position they enjoy for nobility of disposition: they are rapacious it is true, but not always brave, for one Golden Eagle will give way to a Peregrine Falcon, while the grand-looking IMPERIAL EAGLE (Aquila heliaca, see figure on p. 235) is said by a good observer in India, Mr. A. O. Hume, C.B., to be no better than a great hulking Kite. He adds:—“Much has been written about the daring and fierceness of this Eagle. I can only say that in India (where possibly the climate is subversive of courage), I have never seen the slightest indications of these qualities. I have driven the female off hard-set eggs, and plundered the nest before the eyes of the pair, without either of them flapping a pinion even to defend what a little Shrike will swoop at once to save; and I have seen a couple of Crows thrash one of them soundly. As a rule, this species with us is an ignoble feeder. I have generally found them gorged with carrion, and after a good meal they will sit stupidly on a tree, or any little mud pillar, and permit you to walk within thirty yards of them; but before feeding they are somewhat wary, and can by no means always be secured, even when seen sitting. On more than one occasion I have seen Desert Rats (Gerbillus erythrurus) in their crops, and I once shot one of a pair which were busy, on the line of rail at Etawah, devouring a Bandicoot Rat (Mus bandicota), which some passing train had cut in two. Occasionally, but rarely, I found that they had eaten Quails and other birds. Once I shot a male which was dancing about on the ground in such an astounding fashion that I killed it to see what the matter was. The bird proved to have been choking. It had swallowed a whole dry shin-bone and foot of an Antelope. The bone apparently could not be got down altogether, and in trying to void it, the sharp points of the hoof had stuck into the back of the roof of the mouth.”[187]

THE GOLDEN EAGLE (Aquila chrysaËtus[188]).

The Golden Eagle is so called from the tawny or golden-brown colour which pervades the feathers of the neck in the old bird. Excepting in certain places in “Caledonia stern and wild,” where it is protected, it is a species which is becoming very rare in Great Britain, and but for the intervention of a few large-minded proprietors in Scotland would doubtless ere this have been extinguished. It is a much rarer bird now than the White-tailed Eagle, and the last-named species is often mistaken for it; but a little attention to one point will obviate all fear of a mistake in this respect, the Golden Eagle having at all ages the tarsus feathered to the toes, whereas the Sea Eagle belongs to the bare-legged section of these birds.

A better description of the habits of the Golden Eagle probably does not exist than that given by the late Professor Macgillivray:—

“See how the sunshine brightens the yellow tint of his head and neck, until it shines almost like gold! There he stands, nearly erect, with his tail depressed, his large wings half raised by his side, his neck stretched out and his eye glistening as he glances around. Like other robbers of the desert, he has a noble aspect, an imperative mien, a look of proud defiance; but his nobility has a dash of clownishness, and his falconship a vulturine tinge. Still, he is a noble bird, powerful, independent, proud, and ferocious, regardless of the weal or woe of others, and intent solely on the gratification of his own appetites; without generosity, without honour, bold against the defenceless, but ever ready to sneak from danger. Such is his nobility, about which men have so raved. Suddenly he raises his wings, for he has heard the whistle of the shepherd in the corry, and bending forward, he springs into the air. Oh, that this pencil of mine were a musket charged with buck-shot! Hardly do those vigorous flaps serve at first to prevent his descent; but now, curving upwards, he glides majestically along. As he passes the corner of that buttressed and battlemented crag, forth rush two ravens from their nest, croaking fiercely. While one flies above him, the other steals beneath, and they essay to strike him, but dare not, for they have an instinctive knowledge of the power of his grasp, and after following him a little way they return to their home, vainly exulting in the thought of having driven him from their neighbourhood. Bent on a far journey, he advances in a direct course, flapping his great wings at regular intervals, then shooting along without seeming to move them. In ten minutes he has progressed three miles, although he is in no haste, and now disappears behind the shoulder of the hill. But we may follow him in imagination, for his habits being well known to us, we may be allowed the ornithological licence of tracing them in continuance. Homeward bound, his own wants satisfied, he knows that his young must be supplied with food.

“Over the moors he sweeps, at the height of two or three hundred feet, bending his course to either side, his wings wide spread, his neck retracted, now beating the air, and again sailing smoothly along. Suddenly he stops, poises himself for a moment, stoops, but recovers himself without touching the ground. The object of his regards, a Golden Plover, which he had spied on her nest, has eluded him; and he cares not to pursue it. Now he ascends a little, wheels in short curves, presently rushes down headlong, assumes the horizontal position when close to the ground, prevents his being dashed against it by expanding his wings and tail, thrusts forth his talons, and grasping a poor terrified Ptarmigan that sat cowering among the grey lichens, squeezes it to death, raises his head exultingly, emits a clear, shrill cry, and springing from the ground pursues his journey.

“In passing a tall cliff that overhangs a small lake, he is assailed by a fierce Peregrine Falcon, which darts and plunges at him as if determined to deprive him of his booty, or drive him headlong to the ground. This proves a more dangerous foe than the Raven, and the Eagle screams, yelps, and throws himself into postures of defence; but at length the Hawk, seeing the tyrant is not bent on plundering his nest, leaves him to pursue his course unmolested. Over woods, and green fields, and scattered hamlets speeds the Eagle, and now he enters the long valley of the Dee, near the upper end of which is dimly seen through the grey mist the rock of his nest. About a mile from it he meets his mate, who has been abroad on a similar errand, and is returning with a white Hare in her talons. They congratulate each other with loud yelping cries, which rouse the drowsy shepherd on the strath below, who, mindful of the lambs carried off in spring-time, sends after them his malediction. Now they reach their nest and are greeted by their young with loud clamour.

“Let us mark the spot. It is a shelf of a rock, concealed by a projecting angle, so that it cannot be injured from above, and is too distant from the base to be reached by a shot. In the crevices are luxuriant tufts of Rhodiola rosea, and scattered around are many alpine plants, which it would delight the botanist to enumerate. The mineralogist would not be less pleased could he with chisel and hammer reach that knob which glitters with crystals of quartz and felspar. The nest is a bulky fabric, five feet at least in diameter, rudely constructed of dead sticks, twigs, and heath; flat, unless in the centre, where it is a little hollowed and covered with wool and feathers. Slovenly creatures you would think these two young birds, clothed with white down, amid which the larger feathers are seen projecting, for their fluid dung is scattered all over the sticks, and you see that, had the nest been formed more compactly of softer materials, it would have been less comfortable. Strewn around, too, are fragments of Lambs, Hares, Grouse and other birds in various stages of decay. Alighting on the edges of the nest, the Eagles deposit their prey, partially pluck off the hair and feathers, and rudely tearing up the flesh, lay it before their ever-hungry young.”

The length of a male Golden Eagle is a little more than two feet and a half, while the female attains at least three feet in dimensions, with a wing three inches longer than that of her mate. The colour of the plumage is dark brown, with a rich tawny hue on the back of the neck and nape, the feathers of these parts being streaked with darker brown; the tail is more or less mottled with grey at the base, and is whiter in younger birds. The latter are often popularly distinguished as the Ring-tailed Eagles. By some authors the Eagle which frequents the mountains is considered to be a different species from that which inhabits the plains, but as far as present experience goes it is the younger birds which are more often met with in the latter localities, being probably driven from their mountain homes by the older birds. The Golden Eagle varies his choice of an eyry in different localities, building in the British Islands generally on a rock, but in many other countries nesting on a tree. It is found all over Europe and Northern Asia, in mountainous districts, extending into China and even into the Himalayas, whence the finest specimens are obtained. In North America also the examples of the Golden Eagle seem to be very large, but are not to be otherwise distinguished from European specimens.

THE KITE EAGLE (Neopus[189] malayensis).

This extraordinary bird bears the above name from its resemblance generally to a Kite, and also from its plumage, which in the young bird is wonderfully Kite-like, so that a dead specimen carelessly examined might be taken easily for one of the latter birds. One moment’s search, however, would dispose of the illusion, for no one who has once heard of the foot of this Eagle could ever forget it or mistake it for that of any other raptorial bird, the talons being longer and more slender in proportion to the size of the foot than in any known Eagle; they are also nearly straight. The inner claws are the longest, and that excellent observer, Captain Vincent Legge, points out that they seem “especially adapted for the work of carrying off loose and fragile masses, such as the nests of small birds, as they would naturally form its chief means of grasp when such an object was being held by both feet during the process of flight.” This last sentence gives an insight into the habits of the bird, which are on a par with its remarkable structure. It might well be called the “Bird’s-nesting Eagle,” for it seems to be the only bird of prey which systematically lives by the robbery of smaller birds’ nests; only on very rare occasions, and when pressed by hunger, has it been known to attack larger game or worry the poultry-yard. It is almost always on the wing, and the Lepcha-hunters near Darjeeling speak of it as the bird “that never sits down.” It is found in the Himalayas and in other wooded districts of India, and occurs but more sparingly in the Malayan peninsula and islands, ranging to some of the Moluccas, but probably visiting the latter only on migration. But it is in Ceylon that it is, perhaps, more plentiful than in any other locality, and the best account of its habits is that given by Captain Legge, whose words are subjoined. “This fine, long-winged Eagle is, on account of the singular structure of its feet and its curious habits, one of the most interesting, but, at the same time, perhaps the most destructive of raptors to bird-life in Ceylon. It subsists, as far as can be observed, entirely by birds’-nesting, and is not content with the eggs and young birds which its keen sight espies among the branches of the forest-trees, but seizes the nest in its talons, decamps with it, and often examines the contents as it sails lazily along. Furthermore, Mr. S. Bligh informs me that he once found the best part of a bird’s nest in the stomach of one of these Eagles which he shot in the Central Province. Its flight is most easy and graceful. In the early morning it passes much of its time soaring round the high peaks or cliffs on which it has passed the night, and about nine or ten o’clock starts off on its daily foraging expedition. It launches itself with motionless wings from some dizzy precipice, and proceeding in a straight line, till over some inviting-looking patna-woods it quickly descends with one or two rather sharp gyrations, through, perhaps, a thousand feet, and is in another moment gliding stealthily along just above the tops of the trees. In and out among these, along the side of the wood, backwards and forwards over the top of the narrow strip, it quarters, its long wings outstretched and the tips of its pinions wide apart, with apparently no exertion; and luckless indeed is the Bulbul, Oriole, or Mountain Finch whose carefully-built nest is discovered by the soaring robber.”[190]

The size of the Kite Eagle is about thirty inches in length, and the colour is entirely black, with some indistinct bars of ashy-grey on the tail. Besides the Eagles that have been alluded to already, there are the Hawk-Eagles (NisaËtus), remarkable for their long legs, and the Crested Eagles (SpizaËtus), which have a beautiful long crest hanging from the hinder part of the head.

THE COMMON HARRIER EAGLE (CircaËtus[191] gallicus).

This, which is also called the “Jean-le-Blanc,” is one of the best-known of all the bare-legged section of the Eagles. The genus CircaËtus, to which it belongs, contains five species, of which four are peculiar to Africa, the C. gallicus being found all over Southern and Central Europe, and extending into India, where it is not at all unplentiful. In its nature this bird is rather sluggish, though in confinement it is very untamable, and wears a thoroughly fierce aspect, as could be seen by any one who examined the specimen in the Zoological Gardens. Its ferocious appearance was heightened by its peculiar eye, which is very large, of a bright yellow, with a very small black pupil, whereas the pupil in most birds of prey is rather large.[192]

THE INDIAN SERPENT EAGLE (Spilornis cheela).

This is a beautiful bird, having the under surface mottled with white spots or “ocelli.” All the Serpent Eagles, of which there are several species, are characterised by a similar style of plumage, and by a full, thick crest of feathers springing from the occiput and hind part of the head. They are found all over India and Ceylon, Southern China, and the Burmese countries, the Malayan Peninsula, Sunda Islands, Borneo, and Celebes. The Ceylonese species, which is a small race of the Indian bird, is stated by Layard to feed on Snakes, Lizards, and other reptiles and insects, and to be particularly partial to the large trees on the banks of tanks, from them swooping down on the frogs which came up to sun themselves on the floating logs or reeds. The Indian species of Serpent Eagle is a powerful bird, and is said to capture Pheasants during the breeding season and bring them to the nest. Mr. Hume has generally found small Snakes in their stomachs; once as many as fifty together were found, all scarcely bigger than large Worms; and an instance was brought to his knowledge of a Cobra some two feet and a half long having been found dead, but uninjured, in one of these birds’ stomachs. Mr. Thompson, a frequent contributor to Mr. Hume’s “Rough Notes,” tells of one which he had alive, and which was kept along with two little Indian Owls (Carine brama), a Carrion Crow, and three large green Woodpeckers, and who killed and ate up every one of the latter, though well supplied with other fresh meat.

THE BATELEUR EAGLE (Helotarsus[193] ecaudatus[194]).

This is a very remarkable bird, which might also with propriety be called the Short-tailed Eagle, as it is the only species known in which the wings exceed the tail in length. It is found in Africa only, where it is by no means rare in the southern and north-eastern quarters of the continent. In Damara Land, according to Mr. Andersson, it builds its nest on trees, selecting generally one of such a terribly thorny nature that the nest is always difficult of access. Occasionally, however, a rock is selected for the breeding-place. When in captivity, this bird changes the colour of the face, exactly as the Brazilian Caracara already alluded to; the bare skin round the nostrils and eyes, which is generally brilliant coral-red, fading to pale orange-yellow.

The Bateleur Eagle is about two feet in length, and has an enormous crest of plumes. The colour is black, with a large maroon-coloured patch on the shoulders and on the back, the tail being also of this colour. Sometimes individuals with pale, cream-coloured backs are found; but at present it is not known whether these are a different species, or whether they constitute only a pale variety of the ordinary Bateleur.

THE WHITE-TAILED EAGLE (HaliaËtus albicilla[195]).

Sea Eagles are absent from South America, but probably from no other country of the globe. Both Europe and North America are inhabited by large and powerful species; and throughout Africa and Madagascar the handsomely-marked species H. vocifer occurs. One of the most widespread is the White-bellied Sea Eagle; it is found round the coasts of Australia and all the Molucca Islands, ranging as far as India and Ceylon, and as high as Cochin China.

The White-tailed Eagle, which, from its being an inhabitant of the British Islands, is the species most familiarly known of all the Sea Eagles, is still met with in some of the northern parts of Scotland, and in the Hebrides; but as it is a bird which creates a good deal of havoc among lambs at certain periods of the year, the war of extermination which has been waged against it has now contributed considerably to the increasing rarity of the species on these coasts. The breeding of this Sea Eagle has been well described by Mr. Woolley.[196] He says:—“On the coasts, the Sea Eagle chooses a roomy and generally sheltered ledge of rock. The egg which Mr. Hewitson figures (Eggs, Br. B., ed. 3, pl. iv., fig. 2) is one of two which I took on the 23rd April, 1849, on one of the most northern points of our island. The nest was very slightly made of a little grass and fresh heather loosely put together, without any sticks; but two or three ‘kek’ stalks were strewn about outside. There was a good thickness of guano-like soil upon the rock, which made much nest unnecessary. Two or three Guillemot’s beaks, the only unmanageable part of that bird, were not far off. The eggs were laid two days before when I went to reconnoitre; and I never shall forget the forbearance which a friend who was with me showed, at my request, as he lay, gun in hand, with the hen Eagle in full view upon her nest not forty yards below him. Her head was towards the cliff, and concealed from our sight; whilst her broad back and white tail, as she stood bending over her nest on the grassy ledge, with the beautiful sandstone rock and sea beyond, completed a picture rarely to be forgotten. But our ears, and the air we breathe, give a finish to Nature’s pictures which no art can imitate; and here were the effects of the sea, and the heather, and the rocks, the fresh warmth of the northern sun, and the excitement of exercise, while the musical yelping of the male Eagle came from some stand out of sight. Add to all this the innate feeling of delight connected with the pursuit of wild animals, which no philosopher has yet been able to explain further than as a special gift of our Great Maker, and then say whether it is not almost blasphemy to call such a scene a ‘picture!’ Upon this occasion, I made some remark to my friend, when the hen Eagle showed her clear eye and big, yellow beak, her head full of the expression of wild nature and freedom. She gave us a steady glance, then sprang from the rock, and with ‘slow winnowing wing’—the flight-feathers turning upwards at every stroke—was soon out at sea. Joined by her mate, she began to sail with him in circles farther and farther away, till quite out of sight, yelping as long as we could hear them, Gulls mobbing them all the time. To enjoy the beauties of a wild coast to perfection, let me recommend any man to seat himself in an Eagle’s nest. The year before this I took the young ones out of the same eyry late in July. It was my first attempt at an Eagle’s stronghold, and I shall never forget the interest of the whole affair; a thunderstorm coming on just before, making it necessary to cut drains in the peat with our knives, to divert the torrents of water; our councils about the best mode of attaching the ropes; the impertinence of a young lad who, stationed to watch for my signals, was rendered quite useless by his keen sense of the ridiculous on seeing me, in my inexperience, twisting round and round at the end of the rope; the extraordinary grandeur everything assumed, from the nest itself; the luxurious feeling of exultation; the interest of every plant about it—I know them all now; the heaps of young Herring-Gulls’ remains, and the large fish-bone; but, above all, the Eaglets fully able to fly, and yet crouching side by side, with their necks stretched out and chins on the ground, like young Fawns, their frightened eyes showing that they had no intention of showing fight.

“Very gently, as a man ‘tickles’ trout, I passed my hand under them, and tied their legs together, and then tried to confine their wings. They actually allowed me to fasten a handkerchief round them, which, however, was soon shaken off when they began to be pulled up. When the men had raised me, the string attached to my waist lifted one Eaglet, and presently the second came to the length of his tether. Great was the flapping of wings, and clutching at rocks and grass. I had many fears that the string or the birds’ legs must give way; but, after much hard pulling, I got them safely to the top, and they are now (1853) alive at Matlock amongst rocks, where I hope they may breed; but, though five years old this season, they have not yet quite completed the adult plumage. Their dutiful parents never came near them in their difficulties; but I am happy to say that in 1850 (the year after I took their eggs), they carried off their young, through the interest I was able to exert in their favour. They had shifted their position; and they changed again in 1851 to a rock with an aspect quite different, and more than a mile away. In 1847, to please the shepherds, the young were shot in the nest, which was built in the spot where I visited it the two following years. There was no sea-weed about this nest either time that I saw it; but a friend writes me word, that two which he examined last year on the sea-cliffs of this island, and which he carefully described to me, were principally made of that material, as Mr. Hewitson also had found them in the Shetland Islands. On one of these two occasions, the old Eagle made a dash near my informant, with a ‘fearful scream,’ and such was the tremendous character of the rocks, that his ‘hair gets strong’ when he thinks of them. These two nests, both occupied, were not more than a mile and a half apart.”

THE SWALLOW-TAILED KITE (Elanoides furcatus).

The forked tail which is characteristic of the Kites reaches in the present species its greatest development, so that the name of Swallow-tailed Kite is by no means inappropriate. On five occasions the bird has been captured in England, and it is doubtless during its migration that the bird is driven to Britain by some adverse wind. Its range is extensive, as it is numerous during the summer in some of the southern States of North America, and it migrates to South America, whence it frequently appears in collections from Brazil and Columbia. Mr. Audubon gives the following account of the Swallow-tailed Kite:—“The flight of this elegant species of Hawk is singularly beautiful and protracted. It moves through the air with such ease and grace, that it is impossible for any individual, who takes the least pleasure in observing the manners of birds, not to be delighted by the sight of it whilst on the wing. Gliding along in easy flappings, it rises in wide circles to an immense height, inclining in various ways its deeply-forked tail, to assist the direction of its course; dives with the rapidity of lightning, and, suddenly checking itself, re-ascends, soars away, and is soon out of sight. At other times, a flock of these birds, amounting to fifteen or twenty individuals, is seen hovering around the trees. They dive in rapid succession amongst the branches, glancing along the trunks, and seizing in their course the insects and small lizards of which they are in quest. Their motions are astonishingly rapid, and the deep curves which they describe, their sudden doublings and crossings, and the extreme ease with which they seem to cleave the air, excite the admiration of him who views them while thus employed in searching for food.

“In the States of Louisiana and Mississippi, where these birds are abundant, they arrive in large companies in the beginning of April, and are heard uttering a sharp plaintive note. At this period I generally remarked that they came from the westward, and have counted upwards of a hundred in the space of an hour, passing over me in a direct easterly course. At that season, and in the beginning of September when they all retire from the United States, they are easily approached when they have alighted, being then apparently fatigued, and busily engaged in preparing themselves for continuing their journey, by dressing and oiling their feathers. At all other times, however, it is extremely difficult to get near them, as they are generally on wing through the day, and at night rest on the highest pines and cypresses, bordering the river-bluffs, the lakes, or the swamps of that district of country.

“They always feed on the wing. In calm and warm weather they soar to an immense height, pursuing the large insects called Musquito Hawks, and performing the most singular evolutions that can be conceived, using their tail with an elegance of motion peculiar to themselves. Their principal food, however, is large Grasshoppers, Grass Caterpillars, small Snakes, Lizards, and Frogs. They sweep close over the fields, sometimes seeming to alight for a moment to secure a Snake, and holding it fast by the neck, carry it off, and devour it in the air. When searching for Grasshoppers and Caterpillars, it is not difficult to approach them under cover of a fence or tree. When one is then killed, and falls to the ground, the whole flock comes over the dead bird, as if intent upon carrying it off. An excellent opportunity is thus afforded of shooting as many as may be wanted; and I have killed several of these Hawks in this manner, firing as fast as I could load my gun.

“The Fork-tailed Hawks are also very fond of frequenting the creeks, which, in that country, are much encumbered with drifted logs and accumulations of sand, in order to pick up some of the numerous Water-snakes which lie basking in the sun. At other times they dash along the trunks of trees, and snap off the pupÆ of the Locust, or that insect itself. Although when on the wing they move with a grace and ease which it is impossible to describe, yet on the ground they are scarcely able to walk.

“I kept for several days one which had been slightly wounded in the wing. It refused to eat, kept the feathers of the head and rump constantly erect, and vomited several times part of the contents of its stomach. It never threw itself on its back, nor attempted to strike with its talons, unless when taken up by the tip of the wing. It died from inanition, as it constantly refused the food placed before it in profusion, and instantly vomited what had been placed down its throat.”

THE COMMON KITE (Milvus ictinus[197]).

Times have changed in England since the number of Kites to be seen flying about London Bridge could form a subject of astonishment to a foreign traveller visiting that country; but less than three hundred years ago this was the case, though now the species has been all but banished from the land. It may still occasionally nest in some parts of Wales and of Scotland; but in the latter country places where formerly the species bred plentifully now know it no more. The Kite builds its nest of sticks on a large tree, but occasionally also on rocks, and it is generally composed of a mixture of materials, such as bones, &c., and the lining usually contains a good many rags; so that Shakspere, with the knowledge of natural history which always distinguished him, was quite right when he said—

The presence of the Kite in London was useful in the old days, as its food consists by preference of offal, though it also devours Moles, Frogs, and unfledged nestlings, Rabbits, Snakes, and fish. The forked tail of this species—which serves as a rudder to the bird when flying, as it often does, in circles aloft—easily distinguishes it from all other British birds of prey. The length of the bird is about two feet, and the general colour of the upper plumage is rufous, most of the feathers being edged with that colour. Below, it is rufous-brown, with a narrow streak of blackish down the feathers; the quills are black; the tail rufous-brown, deeply forked, and crossed with seven or eight bars of black. The species is found all over Europe, but becomes gradually rarer in the eastern parts.

THE EUROPEAN HONEY-KITE (Pernis apivorus).

This bird is generally known as the Honey-Buzzard, though from the reticulations on the hinder aspect of the tarsus it has evidently nothing to do with those birds, even if its soft and kite-like plumage did not show its affinities to the Kites. Its nostril is also peculiar, and is closed in by a membrane, which doubtless forms a protection from the stings of insects when the bird is attacking a Bee’s or Wasp’s nest. Its habits have been well described by Brehm.[198] This bird is, perhaps, the most timid of all European birds of prey, but is remarkable for its good temper. Its movements are in the highest degree clumsy; its flight is bad, heavy, and slow, and is generally a short one, and the bird shows a great disinclination to rise to any considerable height in the air; in short, its whole bearing evinces the most lazy disposition. It will sit for hours on a stone boundary wall, on a solitary tree or sign-post, or on some other elevated spot, quite contented, watching its prey, which consists of the following:—Insects of all descriptions, Beetles, Caterpillars, Dragon-flies, Gadflies, Worms, Frogs, Snakes, Lizards, and destructive Rodents, which form its principal food; besides which it is very fond of hunting for the nests of the Humble-bee and Wasp, and of feeding on their larvÆ. This bird also, unfortunately, destroys the young, and especially the eggs, of such of the smaller birds as it comes across while hunting for insects; this causes it to be looked upon as a disagreeable and hateful enemy by all birds. Crows and Rooks mob the Honey-Buzzard with almost the same eagerness as they chase the Eagle-Owl, and all small birds make a great noise at its appearance. In the summer it also feeds on buds, blossoms, bilberries, other wood-berries, and even leaves. This habit distinguishes it from all other German birds of prey.

“The Honey-Buzzard reaches us somewhat late in the year, and commences to build its nest when the other Raptors have hatched their broods. The nest is very flat, and is placed on the highest of our forest trees; it is principally constructed of green twigs, mixed with dead sticks, and is lined with moss, hair, and feathers. It generally contains three eggs, of a rusty yellow ground, very thickly blotched and spotted with dark reddish-brown. They are somewhat small and rather long in shape. Of these rarely more than two are hatched. The young ones are at first fed with Caterpillars, Flies, Beetles, Worms, &c., which the old birds collect in their crops, and then throw up; later they are treated to pieces of Wasps’ nests filled with larvÆ, Frogs, Mice, young birds, &c. The parent birds still continue to feed their young long after the latter have left the nest. Both young and old birds remain in company almost till the moulting season comes round, when they migrate more to the southward.”

The Honey-Kite inhabits, during the summer, the greater part of Europe, and flies away to Africa to pass the winter. In India it is represented by a species which goes through similar changes of plumage, but may always be recognised by its long crest. The phases through which the Honey-Kite passes are most remarkable, the bird being sometimes nearly all white, at other times all black; and this plumage seems to occur at any age, sometimes in youth, sometimes in old age; and hence this is called a melanism (??a?, black). Many birds of prey are subject to this melanism, but none more so than the Honey-Buzzards, and their representatives in America, the Tooth-billed Kites (Leptodon).

ANDERSSON’S PERN (MachÆrhamphus[199] Anderssoni).

This remarkable bird bears the name of one of the most intrepid, as well as one of the most unassuming, of African travellers, the late Charles John Andersson, who discovered it during his residence in Damara Land in South-western Africa. So rare is it, and so difficult to obtain, that he only managed to procure two specimens in the space of ten years, though constantly on the look-out for the bird. He writes concerning it:—“On the 10th of March, 1865, I obtained one specimen, a female, of this singular bird at Objimbinque, Damara Land. It was shot by my servant, who observed another, probably the male. I imagine that I have myself observed it once or twice in the neighbourhood of Objimbinque just before dusk. When brought to me I instinctively suspected the bird to be a feeder at dusk or at night, and called out, ‘Why, that fellow is likely to feed on Bats!’ And truly enough so it turned out; for on dissection an undigested Bat was found in the stomach; and in another specimen, subsequently killed by Axel, there were several Bats in the stomach.”[200] It is probably owing to this habit of feeding in the evening that the bird is so difficult to procure, as is the case with many of the Goat-suckers, which are also night-feeding birds. Since Mr. Andersson’s death, two or three specimens of his Pern have been sent from Madagascar, but in the intervening portions of the African continent it is as yet unknown.

The colouring of this species is plain, being of a chocolate-brown colour, with a long crest springing from the back of the head; above the eye is a white spot, and another below the eye; the throat and chest are white, with a streak of dark brown down the centre of the throat; the quills and tail are banded the bars showing paler below. The length of the bird is about seventeen inches.

Only one other species of the genus MachÆrhamphus is known, and this is Westermann’s Pern (M. alcinus), which is an inhabitant of Malacca, where it is almost as rare as Andersson’s Pern is in Africa. It has lately been sent from South-eastern New Guinea, and may ultimately be found to inhabit some of the Moluccas.

In all the true Falcons and in the allied genera the bill, which was simply festooned in the Eagles, Kites, and Buzzards, becomes very distinctly toothed, and in some genera even two teeth are present. In these birds, too, the cere is strongly shown, and is generally of a bright yellow colour.

THE CUCKOO-FALCONS (Baza).

These birds have the soft plumage of a Honey-Kite, and yet possess the toothed bill of a Falcon, so that they are placed among the FalconinÆ; but, because of their Kite-like plumage, they follow close to the Perns and Honey-Kites. They not only possess the usual tooth of the Falcon’s bill, but a second is actually present, so that there is no difficulty in recognising a member of the genus Baza. The American Cuckoo-Falcons (Harpagus) are the only other birds of prey which have a double-toothed bill.

The name of “Cuckoo”-Falcon has been given to these birds on account of their actual resemblance to a Cuckoo, in the grey colour of the back with the reddish bars on the under surface. They have also a very large yellow eye. The distribution of the genus Baza is singular, and it is one of those forms which does not occur in Europe, but exhibits the affinity which is often seen between certain African and Indian birds. About nine different kinds are known, each having its own limited range. Thus Swainson’s Cuckoo-Falcon (B. cuculoides[201]) is found in the forest country from Senegambia to Gaboon in West Africa, and is replaced by Baza Verreauxi in the forests of Natal. In Madagascar a third species (B. madagascariensis) occurs, and on crossing the Indian Ocean a fourth kind (B. ceylonensis) is found inhabiting Ceylon. Malacca and the Sunda Islands have their own Baza sumatrensis, the Philippines B. magnirostris, the island of Celebes B. erythrothorax, the Moluccas and New Guinea B. Reinwardti, and Northern Australia, B. subcristata. None of these birds appear to be migratory, and their geographical distribution is interesting when traced out on a map of the world.

From their shy and retiring habits, but little has been recorded of their life. Verreaux’s Cuckoo-Falcon is said to frequent the dense bush in Natal, and Captain Harford shot one in that country while engaged upon an ant-hill, and their food appears to consist of Grasshoppers and MantidÆ, while another observer took from the stomach of one of these birds remains of a green Mantis, of Locusts, and of a Chameleon. This species is one of the largest of the Cuckoo-Falcons, measuring seventeen inches in length, and the colour is dark ashy-grey; deeper ash-colour on the head and crest; the sides of the face, throat, and chest, are clear ashy; the breast white, banded across with pale rufous brown; the under tail-coverts being pure white; both the wings and tail are barred with dark brown. The sexes of these birds differ very little in size.

THE FALCONETS (Microhierax[202]).

This name is applied to a genus of tiny Falcons, which are peculiar to the Indian region. One of them, the Indian Falconet (Microhierax cÆrulescens), is found in the Himalayas and the Burmese countries. A second one is peculiar to Assam, a third to the Philippine Islands, and a fourth to the interior of China, while the fifth and remaining species is found in the Malayan Peninsula and the Sunda Islands.

Not one of these little Hawks is seven inches in length, and even to this day there are many authors who think that they are Butcher-birds or Shrikes, and not Hawks at all. They are, however, true Falcons, though of very small size, and are said to be used by native chiefs for hawking insects and Button-quails, being thrown from the hand like a ball; but this story has been discredited of late, the Besra, a small Sparrow-Hawk, being probably the bird alluded to. The Falconets are known to sit solitary on high trees, and according to native accounts they feed on small birds and insects.

THE PEREGRINE FALCON (Falco peregrinus[203]).

This noble bird justifies his name of peregrinus, by his distribution over the earth’s surface. The ordinary Peregrine, which is still found in suitable places breeding on British coasts, is met with all over Europe and Northern Asia, ranging into South Africa and India in winter, extending throughout China to the Sunda Islands, and the Philippine Archipelago. In North America he is also widely distributed, and is as plentiful as in Europe. In the southern hemisphere the Peregrines, though strictly of the same type as the European bird, are always darker in colour, and have blacker faces and heads. The Australian Peregrine is called Falco melanogenys,[204] and extends its range from the Australian continent to New Caledonia and the New Hebrides, and as far north as Java. In South Africa the resident Peregrine is a very small, dark-coloured bird, and is called Falco minor. This species is also met with in North-eastern Africa, and even ranges into the Mediterranean, as it has been shot in Rhodes, Sardinia, and Morocco. Again, in Chili, another dark-faced form occurs, the Falco nigriceps,[205] not unlike its Australian relative.

To write a history of the Peregrine Falcon would be almost to write a history of falconry, and although it would be beyond the limits of the present work to enter deeply into the subject, a few words must be said about it here. The art of falconry probably came from the East, where it is still practised, and an ancient bas-relief was found by Sir Austen Layard, among the ruins of Khorsabad, depicting a falconer with a Hawk on his wrist, thus proving the antiquity of the pursuit. In Great Britain it was formerly much in vogue, and in Salvin and Brodrick’s work on “Falconry in the British Islands” there will be found an interesting rÉsumÉ of the art, as performed in Great Britain, from ancient times down to the present. It is lamentable to think of the way in which these noble birds, once the pride and favourite of monarchs, are now shot down and classed as vermin. The strict way of preserving game which has been common of late years, and the general use of firearms, have, no doubt, been the chief causes of the destruction of the larger Falcons, and it will take some time to disabuse the vulgar prejudices of gamekeepers, and of some proprietors, as to the mistake that is made in killing off every kind of raptorial bird indiscriminately. A protest which was penned by Mr. G. E. Freeman, in his “Falconry,” is worthy of reproduction here:—“All Hawks, when they have a choice, invariably choose the easiest flight. This fact is of the last importance in the matter before us. I confess that I at once give it the chief place in this argument. Who has not heard of the Grouse disease? It has been attributed, sometimes respectively, and sometimes collectively, to burnt heather; to heather poisoned from the dressings put on Sheep; to the Sheep themselves cropping the tender shoots and leaves of the plant, and thus destroying the Grouse’s food; to the tape-worm; to shot which has wounded but not killed; and perhaps to other things besides. It may be, I doubt not, correctly referred to any or to all of these. Of this, however, there appears no question that from whatever cause it springs it is propagated. A diseased parent produces a diseased child. Now, I say that when every Hawk is killed upon a large manor, the balance of Nature is forgotten, or ignored; and that Nature will not overlook an insult. She would have kept her wilds healthy; destroy her appointed instruments, and beware of her revenge!”

The Peregrine Falcon has always been celebrated with falconers for its superior dash and courage. The female is much the larger and more powerful bird, and is called the “Falcon,” the male being known as the “Tiercel.” The young birds reared from the nest are called “Eyes,” and the immature specimens, from their more rufous colour, are distinguished as the “Red Falcon” and the “Red Tiercel.” When a bird has been caught wild in the full plumage it is called “Haggard.” The principal flight of the “Falcon” was at the Heron, and many anecdotes are told of the encounters between these two antagonists in mid-air. The evidence of Falconers, however, goes to show that the impalement of the Hawk by the Heron’s bill is a rare occurrence, and it is only when the birds come to the ground that the presence of the man is required to rescue the Falcons from their dangerous foe. The Heron, on being pursued, endeavours to avoid his pursuer by mounting high into the air, the Falcon meanwhile doing his best to rise above him and strike the quarry to the ground. Generally, two Falcons were employed in the chase, and while the Heron avoided the stoop of one by changing his position suddenly, the other was ready to stoop from above, until, by a successful swoop, the Heron would be mastered and borne to the ground with the two Falcons in close embrace. Then was the time for the good falconer to be at hand to save his Hawks from the Heron. In a wild state the Peregrine feeds on Grouse of all kinds, Pheasants, Partridges, Ducks, Pigeons, Plovers, &c., but it does not so often visit the poultry-yard as the other Hawks, preferring the open country or the sea-coast. In this latter locality, the Falcon feeds on the various sea-birds, such as the Puffins, Auks, Guillemots, and as it flies back to its nest with food for its young, it will sometimes in very wantonness rip up a Gull or other sea-bird if it happens to get in the way as it rushes by. The nest is generally large, and composed of sticks and herbaceous plants, excepting in localities where none of the latter exist, when it is made of grass. The site chosen is some sea-cliff or high precipice inland, where there is sure to be some difficulty in reaching the nest, which is generally harried by means of a rope. They build in the same localities for years together, and Professor Newton gives an interesting record of such an occurrence,[206] when he mentions a hill in Lapland, where a pair of Falcons had a nest when it was visited by the French astronomical expedition in 1736, a nest being re-discovered in the same place in 1799 by Captain SkjÖldebrand, and again by the late Mr. Woolley, in 1853. Near the site of its nest the Peregrine brooks no intruder, and will even attack an Eagle, an instance having been recorded of one of the latter birds being stunned and brought to the ground by a Peregrine, who broke its own wing in the attempt, and was liberated by the shepherds to mend its wing as best it could, in gratitude for having delivered their aquiline enemy into their hands.

In Holland, where until recent years hawking was largely carried on under the auspices of the king, there is a well-known place, called Valkenswaard, where a good many Hawks are trapped every autumn during migration, and it is from the neighbourhood of this village that many of the most celebrated falconers have come. At the same time England has also produced many celebrated adepts at the art, which is generally carried on from father to son; and one of the Barr family, with a high reputation as a falconer, a few years ago exhibited his trained birds in the neighbourhood of London. The writer has also seen some fine sport in Huntingdonshire, with Lord Lilford’s Hawks, in a large extent of open country near Great Gidding.

The male Peregrine is of a bluish-grey colour, narrowly barred with black, the wings darker; the cheeks, ear-coverts, and moustache, black, the entire sides of the head being sometimes of this dark aspect; underneath, the body is white, with more or less of a reddish tinge, and crossed with black bars; tail grey, broadly barred with black and tipped with white. The length is about fifteen inches, that of the female about seventeen; and the wing is fourteen inches and a half in length instead of about twelve, as in the male. In plumage the hen bird is very similar, but is generally of a richer rufous hue below.

Besides the Peregrine Falcons there are a host of smaller species of the genus Falco, varying much from the above birds in size and style of colour, but of exactly the same form, and having much the same habits. The Hobby (Falco subbuteo) and the Merlin (F. Æsalon) represent these smaller Falcons in the British Islands.

THE GREENLAND JER-FALCON (Hierofalco candicans).[207]

Besides the Peregrine, there were used in falconry, in England, the Noble, or Jer-Falcons, birds which were much prized, although they did not possess the same fire and dash in pursuit of their quarry exhibited by the former bird. There are five distinct kinds of these northern Jer-Falcons, without mentioning the Saker Falcon of South-eastern Europe, which also belongs to the genus Hierofalco. The best known is the Greenland Jer-Falcon, which, as its name implies, is an inhabitant of Greenland and North America, young birds only occurring in the British Islands during migration. This species is nearly pure white in colour when fully adult, the back and wings retaining small spots of black, the entire head and breast, and especially the tail, becoming pure white as the bird gets older and loses the spots and bars which characterise its immature dress. An unfailing mark by which a Greenland Jer-Falcon can be told at any age is the light yellowish bill and cere, and the absence of arrow-shaped bars on the flanks, which in young birds are longitudinally streaked with brown, but are never barred. All the other Jer-Falcons have distinct bars across the flanks, as well as bluish bills and regularly barred tails. They are four in number, the Norway Jer-Falcon (H. gyrfalco), the Iceland Jer-Falcon (H. islandicus), HolbÖll’s Jer-Falcon (H. HolbÖlli), and the Labrador Jer-Falcon (H. labradorus). They are nearly all peculiar to the countries whose names they bear, the Norway bird not occurring anywhere out of Europe and Northern Asia, one specimen having been known to occur in England; it seems also to emigrate to Central Asia, as a single bird was procured during the last Yarkand Mission. All the Jer-Falcons have shorter toes than the Peregrines, in which the outer toe is very long, while in the other birds the outer and inner toes are about equal in length.

When in a wild state the Greenland Falcon feeds upon Ptarmigan, Geese, and on the sea-birds which frequent the cliffs where it takes up its abode. It evinces great courage in defending its nest.

THE KESTRELS (Cerchneis).

These form a group of short-toed Hawks, like the foregoing, but are much more numerous in species, and are found distributed all over the world, with the exception of some of the Oceanic Islands. More than twenty different kinds of Kestrel are recognised by naturalists, and they are more insect-feeding birds than the bolder and nobler Falcons which have just been spoken of. The commonest and best known of all is

THE COMMON KESTREL, OR WIND-HOVER (Cerchneis tinnunculus).[208]

This species gains its name of Wind-hover from a very pretty and graceful action with which it hangs suspended in the air, as if by a thread, keeping itself balanced by a constant winnowing of the air by its wings, and from this position it scans the ground below for a stray Mouse which may venture out of its hole, for mice and small birds constitute its principal food. It is frequently to be seen in the autumn hovering about a field of sheaved corn in the twilight, selecting a position about forty feet in the air, and occasionally stooping down on some prey in the stubble below. Should it not succeed in its pounce, it flies a little way in a few easy circles, and again commences to hover over a new part of the field. Insects also form a staple article of food to the Kestrel, who devours them while in full flight, passing its leg up to its bill, and the author has met with an instance of a Kestrel hawking for insects over a stream in the late evening. This Hawk is, unfortunately, often confounded through the ignorance of gamekeepers with the Sparrow-Hawk, and suffers consequently for the misdeeds of the latter, a fact much to be regretted, for it is a very useful bird, owing to the number of mice it destroys; indeed, a writer in Macgillivray’s “British Birds” computes that a single Kestrel would destroy upwards of ten thousand mice during its stay in Britain. It will also catch birds, but in limited numbers, and then generally only during the breeding season, when its young require constant food. Although of a less ferocious nature and aspect than the Falcons, the Kestrel, nevertheless, often shows forth his accipitrine temperament in a way that would scarcely be expected from his mild-looking dark eye, which has nothing of the ferocity of the yellow iris of the Sparrow-Hawk. Some young birds belonging to the writer, consisting of three females and a male, being left without food for a few hours by the person in whose charge they were placed, forgot their fraternal affection, and the larger hen birds set upon the male, who was not so large or strong as they were, and devoured him completely. When shooting in a sandy island near Heligoland also, the writer wounded a Dunlin, which floated on the water a considerable distance out at sea, and whilst waiting for the waves to bring the bird in to land a Kestrel hove in sight and made a swoop at the Dunlin, which the latter avoided by a rapid dive. Twenty-three times the Hawk repeated the manoeuvre without success, until the poor little wader became exhausted, and was borne in the talons of his relentless foe towards the rock of Heligoland, about a mile off. This action had been witnessed also by Messrs Seebohm and Nicholson, from other parts of the same sandy island, and the latter kept pace with the Kestrel as it skirted the beach, in the hopes that it might cross the island when a shot would perhaps have caused the bird to drop his exhausted quarry. The Hawk, however, kept well out at sea, and regained his rocky home, though he was several times seen to pause in his flight and take a tighter grasp of his victim.

The nest of the Kestrel is often placed in towers and old buildings, and the bird is sometimes to be seen round the Nelson monument in Trafalgar Square, but a tree is more frequently the site selected, when an old Crow’s or Raven’s nest is often chosen. The hen bird, as is the case with most Hawks, sits very close, and will often require a stick or stone to be thrown close to the nest before it will move off, and the sudden drop which it gives is often the means of saving its life, as the chance of a successful shot is difficult. The eggs are from four to six in number, and are rather handsomely coloured, being blotched with rufous on a white ground, and are not unfrequently entirely rufous.

In most of the Kestrels the sexes differ conspicuously in colour, the females being barred. This is the case in the common species, where the male has a blue head and tail. In the size of the sexes there is little or no difference, each measuring about twelve inches and a half. In winter, when there are fewer mice and beetles about, the Kestrel shifts his quarters, and becomes to a certain extent migratory: at this season of the year it visits India and Africa, not extending, however, so far down the latter continent as some of the European birds go. It is abundant at certain seasons in north-eastern Africa and Senegambia, but seldom goes as far as the Cape. The most easterly occurrence that is known of the Common Kestrel is the island of Borneo, though it is a common bird in China. It should be mentioned, however, that the Kestrel is always darker in colour from Japan and China, so much so that many naturalists consider it to be a distinct species from the British bird.

THE SECOND SUB-ORDER.—PANDIONES.

CHAPTER VI.
THE OSPREYS AND OWLS.

THE OSPREY, OR FISHING EAGLE (Pandion haliaËtus).

THE Osprey is one of the most cosmopolitan of the birds of prey, being found all over the world, with the exception of the continent of South America and some of the Pacific Islands. Specimens from Australia and the Moluccas are generally smaller than those from Europe or America; but as the size of the species appears to vary in different localities, the Australian form cannot be considered other than a permanently smaller race. Everywhere the habits of the Osprey seem to be very similar, the bird never being found away from the vicinity of water, unless it be sometimes during the breeding season, when it makes its nest at some distance from its feeding haunts. Its food consists entirely of fish, and it is capable of carrying off one of considerable size; in the capture of its prey it is greatly aided by its reversible toes, and by the roughness of the sole of the foot, which is covered with minute spikes, and these are, of course, of great assistance to the bird in holding such a strong and slippery prey as a large fish often proves to be. Professor Newton writes of one living in the Zoological Gardens, that “when a fish was given to it, it was observed to seize it across the body, placing the inner and outer toes at right angles with the middle and hind toes, and, digging in the claws, it held the fish most firmly by four opposite points, not relaxing its hold or altering the position of the toes, but picking out the portions of flesh from between them with great dexterity.” Occasionally, the Osprey attacks a fish beyond its strength, and it is then drawn under the water, and drowned. Mr. Dresser saw this happen in the Bay of Fundy, when a Fish Hawk was unable to release itself from a heavy fish, and, after being dragged under the water time after time, was ultimately carried out to sea, and disappeared. Mr. Collett, of Christiania, tells us that in one of the Norwegian lakes a huge Pike was caught, with the remains of an Osprey’s skeleton still attached to its back. Sometimes, on landing its prey, the bird is unable to extricate its talons, and is captured alive. The nest of the Osprey is a large structure, and is variously situated, according to the nature of the locality. It is generally placed on a tree; but in situations where there are no trees the position chosen is on a large rock or stone, very often on the islands in the middle of the lakes which it frequents. The eggs are generally three in number, sometimes four, and are very beautiful, varying from a rich red to a buffy-white colour, with large reddish and brown markings. In Europe it is found nesting invariably in pairs, but in North America large communities are found; and Dr. Brewer relates that sometimes as many as “three hundred pairs have been observed nesting on one small island; and when a new nest is to be constructed, the whole community has been known to take part in its completion. They are remarkably tolerant towards smaller birds, and permit the Purple Grakle (Quiscalus purpureus) to construct its nests in the interstices of their own.”

The principal distinctions between Hawks and Owls (Striges) have been already pointed out (p. 255); but there are still some other smaller characters to which a passing allusion must be made. It would be difficult, for instance, for the merest novice in the study of ornithology to mistake an Owl, when seen alive in a cage, or even in a case of stuffed birds, its enormous head and short neck being unlike those of any of the other birds of prey. The neck of some Owls is, indeed, so short and contracted, that it is with difficulty that any intervening curve between the nape and the back, which would mark a perceptible neck as in most Hawks, can be detected. Again, the Owls have their eyes directed forwards, so that they confront the spectator; while most of the other birds of prey turn their head more or less on one side when their attention is diverted, and do not look one straight in the face as an Owl does. The cere is almost always hidden by bristles in the Striges, and the latter have a very distinct facial disc, surrounded by a curious ruff, somewhat similar to that of the Harriers (Circus, p. 268), and Harrier-Hawks (Micrastur, p. 270). The external ear-opening is a complicated organ in the Owls, and differs considerably, the orifices often being of different form on either side of the head; and in one species, Tengmalm’s Owl (Nyctala tengmalmi), the ear-openings are of different shape in the skull itself.

To those interested in bird-lore, a most entertaining study might be afforded by tracing the superstitions with which Owls have been regarded in all countries, and in the earliest times. Such a study was begun by the late Mr. Broderip, in his “Zoological Recreations,”[209] where he quotes from the ancient writers many passages, which show that Owls were as much regarded as birds of ill-omen by the inhabitants of Greece and Italy in olden times as they have been in England up to the present day. Nor is the infatuation confined to Europe, as later on are quoted instances of superstitious dread of the Owls in Morocco and West Africa; while they are equally held in fear in many Eastern countries.

The Athenians alone seem to have had a regard for these birds, and an Owl is found on the reverse side of many of their coins, the bird being sacred to their guardian deity, AthenÉ. The species figured is probably the Little Owl (Carine noctua), a bird which is common in Greece. It is difficult to guess why the Owl came to be regarded as the embodiment of wisdom, unless it was from its having been sacred to Minerva, the Goddess of Wisdom, who is sometimes represented as the Owl-headed goddess.

“The Owlet’s wing,” writes Mr. Harting,[210] “was an ingredient in the cauldron wherein the witches prepared their ‘charm of powerful trouble’ (Macbeth, Act iv., sc. 1); and with the character assigned to it by the ancients, Shakspere, no doubt, felt that the introduction of an Owl in a dreadful scene of a tragedy would help to make the subject come home more forcibly to the people, who had, from early times, associated its presence with melancholy, misfortune, and death. Accordingly, we find the unfortunate Owl stigmatised as the ‘obscure,’ ‘ominous,’ ‘fearful,’ and ‘fatal’ ‘bird of night.’ Its doleful cry pierces the ear of Lady Macbeth while the murder is being done:—

And when the murderer rushes in immediately afterwards, exclaiming—‘I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?’ She replies—‘I heard the Owl scream.’ And later on—‘The obscure bird clamour’d the live-long night.’” (Macbeth, Act. ii., Sc. 3.)

The awe, no doubt, with which this bird is regarded by the superstitious, may be attributed in some measure to the fact of its flying by night.

And yet, strange to say, the appearance of an Owl by day is by some considered equally ominous:—

Should an Owl appear at a birth, it is said to forebode ill-luck to the infant. King Henry VI., addressing Gloster, says:—

While upon any other occasion, its presence was supposed to predict a death, or at least some dire mishap:—

When Richard III. is irritated by the ill-news showered thick upon him, he interrupts the third messenger with

The same author, from whom the above Shaksperian illustrations are quoted, alludes further to the superstitious dread of the Owl, which exists likewise amongst the Dyaks of Borneo, and in Ceylon a Wood-Owl, belonging to the same genus Syrnium, to which the English Wood-Owl belongs, is known as the “Devil-bird,” and is held in great fear. Colonel Irby, writing of the Barn-Owl,[211] tells the following story from the MS. of the late Mr. Favier, of Tangier:—“The inhabitants of Tangier consider this bird the clairvoyant friend of the Devil. The Jews believe that their cry causes the death of young children; so in order to prevent this, they pour a vessel of water out into the courtyard every time that they hear the cry of one of these Owls passing over their house. The Arabs believe even more than the Jews, for they think that they can cause all kinds of evil to old as well as young; but their mode of action is even more simple than that of their antagonists the Jews, as they rest contented with cursing them whenever they hear their cry. Endeavouring to find out from the Mahometans what foundation there is for the evil reputation of this species, I was told this: ‘When these birds cry they are only cursing in their own language; but their malediction is harmless unless they know the name of the individual to whom they wish evil, or unless they have the malignity to point out that person when passing him; as the Devil sleeps but little, when there is evil work to be done he would infallibly execute the command of his favourite if one did not, by cursing the Owl by name, thus guard against the power of that enemy, who is sworn to do evil to all living beings.’ Having learned the belief of the Mahometans relative to this Owl, it was more difficult to find out exactly that of the Jews, who, when questioned by me, knew not how to answer, except that the act of pouring water in the middle of the courtyard is a custom of long standing, in order to avert the evil which the Owl is capable of doing; that is to say, the water is poured out with the view of attracting the evil spirit’s attention to an object which distracts him, and so hides from him the infant which the Owl in its wickedness wishes to show him.”

The late Mr. Waterton, in an entertaining essay on the habits of the Barn-Owl, says:—“Among the numberless verses which might be quoted against the family of the Owl, I think I only know of one little ode which expresses any pity for it:—

The Owls are divided into two families, the first of which is called BubonidÆ, and the second StrigidÆ. In the latter family are represented only two genera, Strix and Heliodilus, which contain six species, all the remaining Owls, about one hundred and ninety in number, belonging to the BubonidÆ. The breast-bone in the latter family always shows two or more clefts or indentations, and there are no “serrations” on the middle claw, whereas the Barn-Owls always have the inner edge of the middle claw serrated, that is, with a small, toothed margin, like the teeth of a saw (serra, Lat., a saw; serratus, notched like a saw), and the breast-bone has no clefts in its hinder edge. The BubonidÆ embrace two sub-families, the BuboninÆ, which have no operculum, or fold of skin, closing in the ear, and the SyrniinÆ, which have a very large operculum. It seems natural to commence the classification of the Nocturnal Accipitres with the Bare-legged or Fishing Owls, as the structure of this part very much resembles that of the Osprey, which was the concluding representative of the Diurnal Accipitres. The thigh feathers are thick, and fit close to the leg; the tarsus and toes are bare; the outer toe is reversible; and the soles of the feet are covered with tiny spicules, which serve to hold fast their finny prey in the same manner as do those of the Osprey.

THE FISH OWL.

The following account of the Indian Fish Owl (Ketupa[213] ceylonensis) is taken from the work by Captain Vincent Legge, R.A., on the birds of Ceylon:—“This large Owl loves the vicinity of water, haunting the banks of rivers, tanks, inland salt lagoons, the borders of sea-bogs, and woods surrounding rice-fields. All who have visited the tanks in the north and east of Ceylon must be familiar with the fine bird, which so often is surprised napping in the lofty trees growing on the embankments, or so-called ‘bunds.’ Its powers of vision in the day are not quick, but they are tolerably clear. On hearing the footsteps of man, it raises its large ear-tufts, and bending down its head, stares steadily down from its lofty perch among the green boughs, and as soon as it becomes aware of the nature of the intruder on its retreat, launches itself out of the tree, and is not easily approached a second time. It is much more common in wild forest country, combined with water, than in cultivated districts. It sallies out in the evening with great regularity. As soon as the sun begins to sink behind the surrounding forest, it may be noticed flapping noiselessly round some secluded cheena, or leisurely crossing the lonely tank, resounding at the hour of sunset with the buzzing of innumerable frogs, to the nearest conspicuous tree, and there gives out its sepulchral groan. This gloomy salutation is usually responded to by its mate, who perches close at hand, and answers by a double note, the two lonesome sounds resembling the words gloom—oh, gloom. At night I have often heard these notes repeated by a pair without intermission for many minutes. Layard remarks that, when alarmed during the day, they utter a loud hiss, subsiding into a growl. They appear to have an accustomed place of roosting, for Mr. Houldsworth notices that they ‘perched day after day on the same branch!’ This is very often in an exposed situation, and it frequently falls to their lot to be mobbed by a flock of garrulous Bulbuls, King-Crows, and other Owl-hating small birds. Fish is the favourite food, and, in fact, the usual diet of this species; but when this is not procurable, small mammals, reptiles, and even insects are devoured by them. In the stomach of one, for example, I found a Snake (Haplocercus ceylonensis), and some large Beetles. As a proof of their miscellaneous diet, and also of their voracity, I may mention that a pair of Fish Owls, which were kept by Sir Charles Layard in the same aviary with a Brahmin Kite, fell one night upon their luckless companion, and, after slaughtering him, forthwith proceeded to devour him completely. Further, Mr. Hume records, in ‘Nests and Eggs,’ finding the remains of Quails, Doves, and Mynahs in the nest of a pair on the Jumna. It has also been stated that they feed on the carcases of the Gavial and Crocodile.”

PEL’S FISH-OWL (Scotopelia peli).[214]

The African Fish-Owls are exactly like the Indian as regards their bare legs, but they have no tufts on their heads. Three different kinds are known, and they are all rare birds, frequenting the rivers and inland lakes of the African continent. Pel’s Fish-Owl was discovered on the Gold Coast by Mr. Pel, the Dutch commandant at Elmina, nearly forty years ago. The specimen procured by that gentleman flew across the river Boutry, and settled among some shady boughs on the other bank, when it was knocked down with the blow of a gun. The following account of one of these rare birds, from the Barra country, Senegambia, is given by Mr. John Henry Gurney, who had the specimen alive in his possession for a long time: it was presented to him by Colonel O’Connor, C.B., who is the author of the accompanying “Sketch of Nero, the Owl, a Fetish Bird.” The colonel writes[215]:—“During seven years’ exploration of Western Africa, I only met one of the species of the Owl ‘Nero.’ He was brought ‘a chicken,’ full of pen-feathers, or rather down, of a delicate straw-colour, and very thick, from a lagoon in the Barra country. No native would admit ‘Nero’ as a visitor; and when the bird was installed in Government House, the servants and head people came in a body to remonstrate, asserting ‘he was a Gumbi Owl, a Fetish!! and would destroy and kill whatever object he looked on.’ The chief groom (an old soldier, who had charge of the poultry) insisted that ‘every cock and hen would go dead.’ Strangely enough, an epidemic broke out, and carried off from fifty to sixty head of fowls; and each day the groom placed the defunct birds on the steps of Government House, to meet the eye of Mrs. O’Connor, seeming to exult in the mortality amongst the feathered tribe. ‘You see wid your own eye, Missus, dat debil Jumbi bird, he go kill all de fowls. Governor tink he hab long head, but he no sabey Owl. Suppose you put him in de stable, he see Nelly (Mrs. O’Connor’s favourite mare), de horse he go tumble down dead.’ Death at last ceased to reign amongst the poultry population, and Nero became my principal pet; he ranged over the piazza, perching on the branch of a tree; he was fed regularly by the orderly on roasted fish, but he often came to the dinner-table, and flew down for scraps of meat, bread and butter, which he took gently from myself or from Mrs. O’Connor, permitting us to rub his head, crest, neck, and back, seemingly enjoying the caressing. But he would snatch meat or bones from the Cat or Dog; and when the Eagle was introduced into his company, he beat him in a most unmerciful manner away from his peculiar and original position of the piazza, the Eagle being one of the fiercest and most pugnacious of African birds, brought from the upper part of the Gambia river near ‘Wallie,’ and, when in vigour, able to carry away a kid or small lamb. Nero luxuriated in a tub of water, frequently washing himself, and perching on the rim until dry. He was wont to go out to the garden or fields, where instantly an immense commotion arose among all the birds. The larger ones flew round the Owl, keeping a very civil distance, the smaller birds flew away; but Nero treated both alike with sovereign contempt. He would return of his own accord to the roosting-place in the piazza, and when put out and confined for some days, rejected all food, and pined until restored to his perch. With me he was as tame as any Canary, and, after an absence of two months, recognised my voice when I went to his cage at Oatlands (Devon), appearing much pleased by my taking him out for a walk on the grass. Many natives from the interior told me ‘they had never seen such a bird before; but they considered him unlucky.’ I really think Nero is nearly sans any relations, and certainly devoid of all friends in Western Africa.”

Pel’s Owl measures nearly two feet in length, and has the wing sixteen inches and a half. Its colour is a deep rufous bay, with black transverse bars; below it is light bay, with heart-shaped bars of black; the iris is dark-brown, whereas in the Indian Fishing Owls it is always yellow.

THE EAGLE OWL (Bubo ignavus).[216]

This and its relative, the Virginian Eared Owl of America, are the largest of all the family. It is found all over Europe and Siberia, extending even to China and the Himalayas, but the few instances of its capture in Great Britain have been probably those of birds escaped from confinement, as it is by no means an uncommon species in aviaries in England. As it is not, strictly speaking, a British bird, recourse must be had to the writings of Continental naturalists for an account of its habits, and the following extract is made from Dr. Brehm’s “Bird Life” (p. 567):—“The Eagle Owl is somewhat fantastic in appearance, usually sitting with its feathers so much ruffled as to make it seem much larger than it really is. ‘In that large, shapeless mass of feathers,’ says Naumann, ‘one can scarcely distinguish the limbs; the half-closed eyes hide their glorious rays; suddenly it opens them wide, bends the head and upper part of the body forwards, swaying from side to side, and raising first one foot and then the other, begins to tremble, winks slowly with the eyelids, spits like a cat, and snaps its bill. When angry its eyes flash fire, it bends forward with hanging wings, ruffles its plumage as much as possible, and snapping and hissing, dashes furiously at the enemy.’

“This bird seems less courageous than surly and quarrelsome, and yet it is asserted that it will fight to the death with the Golden Eagle, when attacked by the latter. The Eagle Owl is a powerful bird, and as there are no bounds to its fury, it is but rarely that anything escapes from its grasp. Though strictly nocturnal in its habits, it always keeps a good look out for its own safety in the daytime, and is ever shy and cautious. Keen of sight and hearing, it takes wing while the danger is still far off. Like other Owls, this bird is fond of pressing itself against the stem of a tree, with unruffled feathers, so as to closely imitate the stump of a tree, and thus escape detection. Inasmuch as deep clefts in the rocks, or the thickest of trees, are its usual retreats, the Owl is often passed over, which fact is undoubtedly an advantage, for the day birds mob it whenever they see it. They may possibly have made it the savage, spiteful bird it is, inasmuch as their system of constant irritation would be sufficient to try the temper of the mildest individual. Thus nothing remains for the Owl but to evade its disturbers, and hide itself as long as possible; but woe betide it if discovered, for then the friends of daylight treat it to a ‘charivari’ without equal.

“The first to arrive on the scene is the ubiquitous Crow, conducted thither by some inquisitive warbler who has discovered the enemy’s retreat. The Crow thoroughly understands what the little fellow means, and hastens to convince itself of the truth of the information. Having satisfied itself, it retires noiselessly, but only to carry the news to its relatives. Now they flock in from all sides to take part in the fight, with an eagerness worthy of the boldest man; greeting one another with hoarse and scornful croaks, the sooty tribe hasten as fast as they can to the scene of action. The mockers surround the poor old ‘Grand Duke,’ at first at a respectful distance, though they are fully determined effectively to disturb its siesta. There sits the Owl, rolling its eyes, spitting, snapping its beak, and ruffling its feathers, now hopping from one leg to another, now raising and lowering its feathered horns by turns; mad with rage, bemoaning its fate, and at loggerheads with the whole world, it awaits the turn that matters may take; at the same time, be it remembered, every Crow takes good care not to lay hold of the irritated gentleman; nothing less than a Raven dares to rely on its own strength. One of these, however, will run a tilt at the dark knight, using its sharp beak as a lance; but before the latter has time to raise the terrible claw, the Raven makes good its retreat, prepares for another rush, and darts like an arrow, so as to use its weapon effectively. The Owl now loses the last remnant of patience, and seeks safety in flight. Oh, unlucky wight! this is all the black swarm have been waiting for, the Crows being far its superiors on the wing. Giving vent to exulting cries, they dart down from above with such unerring aim and force as to scatter the poor brute’s feathers in clouds to the wind: they rise again with a mighty noise that heeds no secrecy, as though they sought to proclaim to the world at large all the fell deeds committed by this Prince of Darkness, while other knights advance to battle. All Hawks and Falcons, ay, the proud Eagle even, answer to the call, and hasten to take part in the fray. Now the Owl must, perforce, either beat a hasty retreat or remain on the field. In any case, however, the Owl is thoroughly worried, and sometimes really damaged, before it finds refuge in some thick tree or rocky cleft, where it hides itself as closely and as silently as its rage will permit, until quit of the Crows.

“The detestation in which the Eagle Owl is held by all diurnal birds is not ill-founded, for this bird preys on every living creature it can overcome, assassinating them in the most abominable manner while they are asleep. Its quarry is as follows:—Fawns of the Roe Deer, Hares, Rabbits, Hamsters, Rats, Moles, Mice, Capercailzie, Black-game, Hazel-hens, Pheasants, Partridges, Rooks, Jays, Magpies, Snakes, Lizards, and Frogs; Rooks seem to be its favourite morsel. No wonder, then, that they pay their enemy out if they can only see an opportunity. It assassinates them; they attack it in open day. The Eagle Owl generally breaks the spine of the smaller animals close to the head, and, cracking the remaining bones, devours its prey, skin and all; the heads of the larger birds it pulls in large pieces which it swallows. It, however, always devours a portion of the hair, feathers, or scales as well, and wastes away if fed on flesh alone. The indigestible portions of the meal are thrown up in large round pellets or ‘casts.’ With larger animals, it lays open the skin of the belly, and eats out the flesh from inside. If it finds that there is too much for one meal, it carefully replaces the skin, and hides the remainder in some dark cranny or corner until required again. This Owl drinks rarely, slaking its thirst generally with the blood of its victims. If food is plentiful, it gorges itself; but in times of dearth it can go without food for weeks together.

“By the last fortnight in March the Eagle Owls commence preparations for breeding. At this season may be heard their hollow, muffled cry of ‘poohoo, poohoo,’ which is distinguishable at a great distance through the woods, and it is not to be wondered that the timid are frightened at it. In the silent, dark recesses of the mountain forest a variety of noises, well calculated to make one’s flesh creep, fall upon the ear: the shrill, mocking laugh, a sound as of snarling hounds; the whoop of the hunter, the snorting of Horses; these are all calculated to impress the uneducated and superstitious with the truth of the legend of the wild huntsman. Even to the ear of the better-informed, these hideous cries, the loud screech of the female, or the ‘poohoo’ of the male, intermingled with the snapping of the beak and curious miaulings, sound somewhat weird; and the boldest of mortals can scarcely repress a cold shudder when a company of these forest spirits favour him with one of their demoniacal nocturnal concerts. Doubtless these sounds represent the battle-cries of the males when fighting for the females, and take the place of the song of the Nightingale when telling its tale of love.

“After the Owls have paired these cries are heard less frequently, both birds being now fully occupied with their nursery operations. The large nest is composed outwardly of branches and sticks, and is lined with dry leaves and small twigs. It is built, and generally placed in either the cleft of a rock or in a hole in some ruined tower; the nest is never built in a tree but from necessity. The two or three eggs are also often found lying on the bare surface of the rock, without any nest whatever. They are round, cross-grained, and white, and somewhat larger than a hen’s egg. The young are hatched in about three weeks. They are usually two in number, rarely three; they look, on their first appearance, like balls of cotton-wool, and keep up a constant hissing or shrill whistle. They remain a long time in the nest, and are so abundantly provided with food by the parent birds, that one is sure to find a large heap of provisions at the nest. The Owlets often betray their presence to their innumerable enemies by their cries, and suffer much persecution in consequence. When about eight weeks old they are able to fly, though they still remain for some time longer under the care of the old birds. These latter rarely wander far from a particular neighbourhood, and usually build in the very same place the following year.”

Besides the Eagle Owls, the sub-family BuboninÆ contains the Snowy Owl (Nyctea[217] scandiaca[218]), all the Hawk Owls (Surnia[219] Ninox[220]), and the Pigmy Owlets (Glaucidium[221]). Many of the birds belonging to this latter genus are not much bigger than a Sparrow. They are found nearly all over the world, with the exception of Australia and Oceania, and one species, the European Pigmy Owlet (G. passerinum[222]), is by no means uncommon in many parts of the Continent, though it has not yet been met with for certain in the British Islands.

The sub-family SyrniinÆ contains only three genera, the Horned Owls (Asio[223]), the Wood Owls (Syrnium[224]), and the Tengmalm’s Owl (Nyctala[225] tengmalmi), the latter having been already noticed (p. 297) as possessing the curious difference in the ear-opening on each side of the skull. Of the Horned Owls two species are found in the British Islands, viz., the Short-eared Owl (Asio accipitrinus[226]), and the Long-eared Owl (A. otus[227]). The former of these birds is often seen in the daytime, and is said to hunt for its prey on dull days, when it will fly at small birds as well as mice; and Mr. Low, writing on the birds of the Orkneys, where the Short-eared Owl breeds, says that he has found in the nest the remains of a Moor-fowl (Red Grouse), two Plovers, besides the feet of several others; and the same writer states that during the breeding season it becomes very impudent, and will even seize and catch up chickens from the doors, and also chase pigeons in open daylight. Although resident in the British Islands, a large migration of the species takes place in autumn, and it is not unfrequently shot by sportsmen in the turnip-fields; while Bewick mentions the recurrence of twenty-eight individuals being flushed in a turnip-field in November, being probably attracted to the locality by an abundance of food. It may also be occasionally found in marshes near the sea-shore, as occurred once to the writer, who started a Short-eared Owl from the sedgy bank on the west side of Pagham Harbour, in the early part of September. When winged, it boldly faced its pursuer, erecting the little tufts on its head and fiercely snapping its bill, as is the manner with all Owls in defending themselves.

Its relation, the Long-eared Owl, is a bird of different habits, and, instead of breeding on the ground as the foregoing species does, it selects a dark wood or clump of firs, appropriating a deserted Squirrel’s “dray,” or adapting the nest of another bird to its own requirements. Macgillivray gives the following account of a young specimen which he had in confinement:—“An individual of this species, which was sent to me in winter by the Rev. Mr. Adam, having been left at night perched on the back of a chair in my drawing-room, tore to tatters six valuable skins of birds from the Rocky Mountains, and an equal number of nearly equally rare specimens from India. A young bird which I kept for some time, on perching, stood at first with the body inclined, afterwards nearly erect, and slept in the latter posture, with its neck rather extended, its feathers drawn close, and its tufts recumbent. When irritated, it raised its plumage, threw its body forward, and uttered a sharp cry. It seized its food with its bill; if large, transferred it to one of its feet, but if otherwise, retained it in its bill. In flying, it carried a small object in its bill, but a larger in its foot. It could close one eye while the other remained open, and when placed in a strong light, frequently drew the membrane over the lighted eye, while the other remained unsheathed, though for the most part it winked with both simultaneously. The irides contracted unequally, according to the degree of light. When perched at night, it sometimes emitted a clicking noise, like that of a spring, with its bill; but when provoked, it neither hissed nor snapped, but uttered a shrill, tremulous, plaintive cry, or succession of short notes, erecting its tufts at the same time.”

THE BARN OWL (Strix[228] flammea[229]).

This is essentially the friend of man, frequenting villages and homesteads where he is protected, and extending his range where civilisation precedes him, being attracted doubtless by the Mice and Rats, which are also the accompaniments of civilisation. The number of small mammals which one of these birds will devour ought to be his passport to the protecting care of the farmer and agriculturist, but it is seldom that an Owl of any kind meets with approval on taking up his residence on an estate. Facts, however, are stubborn things, and in the hope that a more generous reception may be afforded to these useful birds, the following quotation is made from Professor Newton:—“Owls, like other birds of prey, as already mentioned, return by the mouth the indigestible parts of the food swallowed in the form of elongated pellets. These are found in considerable numbers about the usual haunts of the birds, and examination of them reveals the nature of the food, and shows in nearly every case the great services they render to man by the destruction of Rats and Mice.”[230] The infallibility of the evidence thus afforded as to the food of the Owls is as complete as the way of obtaining it, by those who have the opportunity, is simple. Several German naturalists have made some very precise researches on this subject. The following results, with regard to the three commonest species of Owls, are those afforded by the investigations of Dr. Altam, as communicated by him to the German Ornithologists’ Society during its meeting in 1862:—

Colonel Irby, in the work which has already been alluded to, says of the Barn Owl:—“Almost exclusively feeding on Rats and Mice, they deserve every encouragement and support that can be afforded them; but from being in all countries regarded with superstitious awe and dislike, they are more or less persecuted on that account; and in England, through the ignorance and stupidity of gamekeepers, who fancy that they kill game (i.e., feathered game), they suffer most severely. This excuse is ridiculous, for old birds they have not the power to kill, and young Pheasants and Partridges, at the time the Owls are on the feed, are safely being brooded by the parent bird.” Those who wish to encourage and increase Owls, and have not hollow trees or buildings where they nest, may always gratify their wishes by fixing an empty barrel (about an 18-gallon size) horizontally in the fork of any large tree, cutting a hole in one end large enough for the birds to enter; but the hoops of the cask should be screwed on, or it will soon fall to pieces. Not only the Barn Owl, but the Tawny Owl (Syrnium aluco) also will use barrels, or “Owl-tubs.” The difficulty, however, is to keep out the Jackdaws, but when once the Owls have established themselves, there is no fear of that intrusion. The late Mr. Waterton was a well-known admirer of the present species, and he devotes one of his “Essays on Natural History” to the Barn Owl, from which a few passages are extracted:—“Up to the year 1813 the Barn Owl had a sad time of it at Walton Hall. Its supposed mournful notes alarmed the aged housekeeper. She knew full well what sorrow it had brought into other houses when she was a young woman, and there was enough of mischief in the midnight wintry blast, without having it increased by the dismal screams of something which people knew very little about, and which everybody said was far too busy in the churchyard at night-time. Nay, it was a well-known fact, that if any person were sick in the neighbourhood it would be for ever looking in at the window, and holding a conversation outside with somebody, they did not know whom. The gamekeeper agreed with her in everything she said on this important subject, and he always stood better in her books when he had managed to shoot a bird of this bad and mischievous family. However, in 1813, on my return from the wilds of Guiana, having suffered myself, and learned mercy, I broke in pieces the code of penal laws which the knavery of the gamekeeper and the lamentable ignorance of the other servants had hitherto put in force, far too successfully, to thin the numbers of this poor, harmless, unsuspecting tribe. On the ruin of the old gateway, against which tradition says the waves of the lake have dashed for the greater part of a thousand years, I made a place with stone and mortar, about four feet square, and fixed a thick oaken stick firmly into it. Huge masses of ivy now quite cover it. In about a month or so after it was finished a pair of Barn Owls came and took up their abode in it. I threatened to strangle the keeper if ever, after this, he molested either the old birds or their young ones; and I assured the housekeeper that I would take upon myself the whole responsibility of all the sickness, woe, and sorrow that the new tenants might bring to the Hall. She made a low courtesy, as much as to say, ‘Sir, I fall into your will and pleasure,’ but I saw in her eye that she had made up her mind to have to do with things of fearful and portentous shape, and to hear many a midnight wailing in the neighbouring woods. I do not think that up to the day of this old lady’s death, which took place in her eighty-fourth year, she ever looked with pleasure or contentment on the Barn Owl, as it flew round the large sycamore trees which grow near the ruined gateway.

“When I found that this first settlement on the gateway had succeeded so well, I set about forming other establishments. This year I have had four broods, and I trust that next season I can calculate on having nine. This will be a pretty increase, and it will help to supply the place of those which in this neighbourhood are still unfortunately doomed to death by the hand of cruelty or superstition. We can now always have a peep at the Owls in their habitation on the old ruined gateway whenever we choose. Confident of protection, these pretty birds betray no fear when the stranger mounts up to their place of abode. I would here venture a surmise that the Barn Owl sleeps standing. Whenever we go to look at it we invariably see it upon the perch, bolt upright, and often with its eyes closed, apparently fast asleep. Buffon and Bewick err, no doubt unintentionally, when they say that the Barn Owl snores during its repose. What they took for snoring was the cry of the young birds for food. I had fully satisfied myself on this score some years ago. However, in December, 1823, I was much astonished to hear this same snoring kind of noise, which had been so common in the month of July. On ascending the ruin, I found a brood of young Owls in the apartment.

“Upon this ruin is placed a perch, about a foot from the hole at which the Owls enter. Sometimes, at mid-day, when the weather is gloomy, you may see an Owl upon it, apparently enjoying the refreshing diurnal breeze. This year (1831) a pair of Barn Owls hatched their young, on the 7th of September, in a sycamore tree, near the old ruined gateway.

“If this useful bird caught its food by day, instead of hunting for it by night, mankind would have ocular demonstration of its utility in thinning the country of Mice; and it would be protected and encouraged everywhere. It would be with us what the Ibis was to the Egyptians. When it has young, it will bring a Mouse to the nest about every twelve or fifteen minutes. But in order to have a proper idea of the enormous quantity of Mice which this bird destroys, we must examine the pellets which it ejects from its stomach in the place of its retreat. Every pellet contains from four to seven skeletons of Mice. In sixteen months from the time that the apartment of the Owl on the old gateway was cleaned out, there has been a deposit of above a bushel of pellets. The Barn Owl sometimes carries off Rats. One evening I was sitting under a shed, and killed a very large Rat as it was coming out of a hole about ten yards from where I was watching it. I did not go to take it up, hoping to get another shot. As it lay there, a Barn Owl pounced upon it, and flew away with it. This bird has been known to catch fish. Some years ago, on a fine evening in the month of July, long before it was dark, as I was standing on the middle of the bridge, and minuting the Owl by my watch as she brought Mice into her nest, all on a sudden she dropped perpendicularly into the water. Thinking she had fallen down in epilepsy, my first thoughts were to go and fetch the boat; but before I had well got to the end of the bridge, I saw the Owl rise out of the water with a fish in her claws, and take it to the nest. When farmers complain that the Barn Owl destroys the eggs of their Pigeons, they lay the saddle on the wrong horse; they ought to put it on the Rat. Formerly, I could get very few young Pigeons, till the Rats were excluded effectually from the dovecot. Since that took place it has produced a great abundance every year, though the Barn Owls frequent it, and are encouraged all around it. The Barn Owl merely resorts to it for the purpose of concealment. If it were really an enemy to the dovecot, we should see the Pigeons in commotion as soon as it begins its evening flight; but the Pigeons heed it not. Whereas, if the Sparrow-Hawk or Hobby should make its appearance, the whole community would be up at once; proof sufficient that the Barn Owl is not looked upon as a bad, or even a suspicious character, by the inhabitants of the dovecot.”

The colour of the Barn Owl, which is a bright orange buff, mottled with ashy-grey on the upper surface, and white below, distinguishes it from any other Owl. The oval form of the disc is also to a great extent peculiar, as is also the serrated edge to the middle claw, which has been referred to before (p. 300). The breast bone is likewise remarkable, as it has no clefts in the hinder margin.

The range of the present species is very considerable, as it is found all over the New World, from the northern and middle United States down to Patagonia and the Falkland Islands. In the Old World it occurs in equal plenty, but does not extend very high north, being a rare visitant to Denmark and Sweden. Although common in Poland, it is only sparingly distributed throughout Russia, and even appears to be entirely absent in many Central and Southern parts. The same may be said of Turkey. It is not known at present from Siberia or China, but is found throughout Africa, India, Australia, and the majority of the Oceanic Islands. Nearly all Owls have two distinct phases of plumage—a grey one, and a red one. This is especially the case in the little Scops Owls, which have tufts of feathers on the head like the Eagle Owls, of which they may be said to be representations in miniature. The Barn Owls are no exception to this general rule of the family; but owing to the light colouring of the bird, it is not so perceptible as in some of the other species of Owls. Even in England, however, a short study of the species will show the student that some individuals are much redder underneath, instead of being white, and are profusely freckled with grey above; and this dark coloration does not depend upon the age of the bird, nor is it a difference of sex. In some islands, such as the Cape Verde group, San Domingo in the West Indies, the Falkland Islands, and the Galapagos, the Barn Owls are almost always dark-coloured, and light ones are very seldom found. On the other hand, in Australia and Oceania the species becomes peculiarly light in plumage, and dark individuals are the exception.

THE SECOND ORDER.—PICARIAN BIRDS (PicariÆ).[231]

CHAPTER VII.
THE PARROTS.

THE birds which are contained in this order are of very different forms, but they possess one character which, although an osteological one, is found throughout nearly the whole group, and that is, the double notch in the hinder margin of the sternum or breast bone. In all the true Passeres, or perching birds, only a single notch is observed. The hind toe, which in the true perching birds is an essential character, and is separately movable, possessing its own distinct flexor muscle, is in the Picarians not of so much account, its flexor muscle being joined to the common flexor of all the toes; it is sometimes absent altogether. If the Parrots have certain characters in common with the Accipitres, the Cuckoos and the Plantain-eaters undoubtedly show affinity to the Game-birds, while most of the other families have peculiar structures which render them quite distinct from the ordinary mass of true perching birds or Passeres. It may be remarked that the eggs of most of the PicariÆ, so far as we are acquainted with them, are glossy white, and that the majority of them breed in the holes of trees or of rocks, and that they are as a rule bad nest-builders. The greatest exception to the above description of the nesting of these birds is met with in the family of Goatsuckers (CaprimulgidÆ), some of whom lay their eggs on the ground, the eggs being beautifully marbled with streaks and spots.

Within this great Picarian order there are two large sub-orders, called respectively the Scansorial and the Fissirostral[232] PicariÆ. The Scansorial birds are also sometimes known as the ZygodactylÆ,[233] or yoke-footed birds, because they have their toes arranged in pairs, two in front and two behind, and their name of Scansores is given to them because most of them are climbing birds, and run up trees and rocks with great facility, though in different ways. Parrots, for instance, use their bills in climbing from branch to branch, while Woodpeckers have very powerful feet and stiffened tail-feathers, which support them as they cling to the bark of the trees, the bill being chiefly employed to prise off the bark in order to get at the insects underneath. Cuckoos do not climb trees in the same manner as the Woodpeckers, though they have true zygodactyle feet: the present writer has, however, seen a common Cuckoo (Cuculus canorus) cling with both feet to the trunk of a huge elm while it picked off insects from the bark. It must not be supposed, however, that the above are the only birds which climb trees, for among the true Passeres, or perching birds, there occur such birds as the DendrocolaptidÆ in South America, who have stiffened tails exactly as the Woodpeckers, while the Tree-creepers are just as expert as the last-named birds, and yet cannot be placed in the same order as the Scansorial (PicariÆ), for they possess a simple passerine foot, with three toes in front and one behind.

The Fissirostres, or wide-gaping birds, are also called Gressorial PicariÆ, as their toes are more or less connected together, which gives them a very flat sole to the foot. They generally hunt for their food from some selected spot, ordinarily a post or a dead bough, whence they take flights after their prey, usually returning to the same spot to devour it. Their flight is active and swift, their gape extremely large, and the head correspondingly big, and in many instances clumsy and ungainly. The feet are generally small and weak.

FAMILY I.—THE PARROTS (Psittaci).

Just as the Monkeys have been placed at the head of the Mammalia on account of their high development, so the Parrots, from their general cleverness, and especially on account of the facility with which they can talk, have been considered the highest order of birds, and placed at the beginning of the class. It is impossible for some people to avoid the conclusion that these birds think and reason, and the À propos or sometimes mal À propos way in which they introduce speeches, coupled with the look of wisdom which they assume while being spoken to, seems to show that the brain is being employed in thinking. A friend in Manchester told the writer of a parrot-show in the North of England, where the talking powers of each bird were made the subject of a prize competition. Several of the birds had exhibited their prowess, and at last the cover was removed from the cage of a Grey Parrot, who at once exclaimed, on seeing the company to which he was suddenly introduced, “By Jove! what a lot of Parrots!” an observation which gained him the prize at once. Instances of famous talking birds might be multiplied by the hundred, and it is wonderful to read some of the stories which have been related of Parrots, whose fame has been recorded in many popular works, leaving no doubt that these birds often possess the power of reason of a very high order; at the same time, it must be confessed that many of the Corvine birds, such as Ravens, Jackdaws, and Magpies, do not fall far short of their Scansorial friends.

The Parrots are divided into two large sections, firstly the Parrots proper (Psittaci proprii), and secondly the straight-billed Parrots (Psittaci orthognathi[234]). These two sections together contain six families, of which five belong to the first and one to the second. The true Parrots have a powerful and swollen bill, especially as regards the lower mandible, which is much inflated, curved, and flattened in front, the cutting edges (tomium) indented just behind their tip. The sub-family which has to be noticed first are the CamptolophinÆ[235] or Cockatoos, which are birds entirely of the Australian region, being confined to Australia and the Molucca Islands. The bill is higher than it is broad, with a very distinct indentation of each side of the cutting edge of the mandible, the tip of the bill short, rather strong and perpendicular, the head crested in all except the Pygmy Parrots (Nasiterna). This family contains at once the largest and the smallest of the Parrots.

THE GREAT PALM COCKATOO (Microglossus[236] aterrimus[237]).

This is one of the most powerful of all the Parrot tribe, measuring about twenty-four inches in length, and having a bill of unusual thickness and power. Its black plumage also renders it a conspicuous species, the only relief to this sombre colouring being the greyish crest and the dull crimson cheeks. Its home is New Guinea, but it is also found in the Cape York Peninsula in Australia, where it was discovered by John Macgillivray during the voyage of the Rattlesnake. He writes as follows respecting it:—“This very fine bird, which is not uncommon in the vicinity of Cape York, was usually found in the densest scrub among the tops of the tallest trees, but was occasionally seen in the open forest land perched on the largest of the Eucalypti, apparently resting on its passage from one belt of trees or patch of scrub to another. Like the Black Cockatoos, or Calyptorhynchi, it flies slowly and usually but a short distance. In November, 1849, the period of our last visit to Cape York, it was always found in pairs, very shy, and difficult of approach. Its cry is merely a low short whistle of a single note, which may be represented by the letters ‘Hweet-Hweet.’ The stomach of the first one killed contained a few small pieces of quartz and triturated fragments of palm-cabbage, with which the crop of another specimen was completely filled; and the idea immediately suggests itself, that the powerful bill of this bird is a most fitting instrument for stripping off the leaves near the summits of the Seaforthia elegans and other palms to enable it to arrive at the central tender shoot.”

THE PYGMY PARROTS (NasiternÆ).

These Parrots are represented by seven little manikins which are found in New Guinea and the adjacent islands, each particular island possessing its own peculiar species. Not one of these little birds exceeds a Sparrow in size, the largest being a little over three inches and a half in length. Owing to their small size and the resemblance of the green colouring to the forests they inhabit, they are not easily seen, and until recent years were very hard to procure. In the island of Mafoor in the Bay of Geelvink, N.W., New Guinea, Baron von Rosenberg says that he found it common near Roemsaro, and several specimens, both alive and dead, were brought to him by the natives. They bred there in January and February, nesting in hollow trees and laying two eggs, the size of those of the English Bottle Titmouse. Their food consists of fruit.

THE AMAZON PARROTS (AndroglossinÆ).[238]

This, the second sub-family, consists of the true Parrots, of which the ordinary Grey Parrot (Psittacus erythacus) is the type. It also includes all the Green Parrots of America, which are called Amazons, as well as the Lories (Eclectus) and Love-birds (Agapornis). The head is moderately smooth, without any highly-developed crest, as in the Cockatoos, and the tail is short, or of only moderate length. The tail-feathers are generally broad and obtuse, in a few widening at the tip, or sharp at the end. In the genus Prioniturus, which inhabits the Philippine Islands, and some of the Moluccas, the two centre feathers have the shafts produced, and ending in a small spatule, or racket.

THE AMAZONS (Chrysotis).[239]

These Parrots are entirely American, and are the only birds of the New World which can compete in talking powers with the African Grey Parrots, who, however, far surpass their American relatives. About thirty species of Amazon are known, all of them confined within the limits of the Neotropical region, which comprises the whole of Central and Southern America, south of an imaginary line drawn through Northern Mexico. The West India islands are also included in this area, and most of them are inhabited by a species of Amazon. The habits of all these Parrots seem to be very similar, and a good account of the Active Amazon of Jamaica (Chrysotis agilis) is given by Mr. Gosse[240]:—“All the Parrots are gregarious, cunning, watchful, noisy, mischievous; and thus are like the Monkeys. This and the Yellow-billed Parrot [Mr. Gosse’s name for C. agilis is the Black-billed Parrot] are so much alike in manners and general appearance, that a description of one applies nearly to the other. Flocks varying from half a dozen to twenty or thirty fly hither and thither over the forest, screeching as they go, and all alight together on some tree covered with berries. Here they feast, but with caution. On a slight alarm one screams, and the whole flock is on the wing, vociferous if not musical, and brilliant if not beautiful, particularly when the sun shines on their green backs and crimsoned wings. They generally prefer lofty trees, except when, in June, the ripe yellow plantain tempts them to descend, or when the blackberry shines upon the pimento. Of the latter the flocks devour an immense quantity, and the former they destroy by cutting it to pieces with their powerful beaks, to get at the small seeds. One day in January, when the pimento on the brow of Bluefields Mountain was about ready for picking, being full-sized, but yet green and hard, I observed large flocks of Black-bills, and a few Parrakeets, flying to and fro with voluble chatter, now alighting to feed on the hot, aromatic berry, now flying off, and wheeling round to the same neighbourhood again. They were not at all shy, but, with unusual carelessness of one’s proximity, scarcely moved at the report of the gun which brought their companions to the ground. Of two which I shot on this occasion, I found the craws stuffed with the cotyledons of the seed alone, the most pungently aromatic part of the berry; the fleshy part having been, as I presume, shorn off by the beak and rejected. When alighted, as is often the case, on a dry branch, their emerald hue is conspicuous, and affords a fair mark for the gunner; but in a tree of full foliage, their colour proves an excellent concealment. They seem aware of this, and their sagacity prompts them to rely on it for security. Often we hear their voices proceeding from a certain tree, or else have marked the descent of a flock upon it, but on proceeding to the spot, though the eye has not wandered from it, and we are therefore sure that they are there, we cannot discover an individual. We go close to the tree, but all is silent, and still as death; we institute a careful survey of every part with the eye, to detect the slightest motion, or the form of a bird among the leaves, but in vain; we begin to think that they have stolen off unperceived, but on throwing a stone into the tree, a dozen throats burst forth into cry, and as many green birds rush forth upon the wing. The screaming of this and the following species differs from that of the Parrakeet, so far as to be easily distinguished. That of the latter consists of a series of harsh screeches, of comparative length; that of the Parrots is less shrill, more broken into short and rapid articulations, forming a series of varying length, separated by momentary pauses. It is, in fact, much more like a hurried chattering.”

THE GREY PARROT (Psittacus erythacus).

This familiar cage-bird is a native of Africa, and it would appear to have been a favourite in England for a longer period than can be traced. They were held in great estimation at the court of the “Merry Monarch” Charles II., for his Queen Catharine of Braganza had a parrot-keeper, at a salary of £36 per annum, while the maids of honour received only £10 a year each, and the “mother of the maids” £20 per annum. Therefore, the custodian of the Parrots was better paid by £16 than the lady who held the very responsible post of care-taker of the maids of honour.[241] A Grey Parrot which lived for forty years with the Duchess of Richmond and Lennox, who died in 1702, and who was a celebrated beauty at the court of Charles II., is preserved in Westminster Abbey along with the effigy of that lady, having survived its mistress only a few days.

It is strange that for a bird which has so long been one of the chief pets in Europe, so little is known of its habits in a wild state, and at the present time not a single authentic egg of this species, taken in its native haunts, is known to exist. Occasionally it lays in confinement a white egg, like other Picarian birds, but it is probably from the care with which the species selects its breeding-place that it has been so difficult to find their nest and eggs. The only naturalist who appears to have discovered the latter appears to be the celebrated natural history artist, Mr. Keulemans, who spent nearly two years in West Africa, and has written the best account of the Grey Parrot in a state of nature,[242] as observed by him on Ilha do Principe, or Prince’s Island, in the Bight of Biafra. Here it is very common, and breeds in the month of December in the very thickest forests. Only one pair breed in each tree, laying five eggs in a hole thereof, but a large number nest in close proximity to each other, many hundreds breeding in the same area, according to the above-named author. Both parents take a share in the rearing of the young birds, sitting by turns, the one who is thus relieved bringing food to its mate and feeding it out of its crop, which method is also adopted in the care of the young birds. The food of the Grey Parrot is stated to consist of palm-nuts, the arocat (Laurus persea), the banana (Musa paradisea), goyare, mango, and many other fruits of a smaller size; but it always gives the preference to palm-nuts. On Prince’s Island, writes Mr. Keulemans, there is “a very lofty mountain, reaching some 1,200 feet above the level of the sea, and called by the natives ‘Pico de Papagaio,’ or Peak of the Parrots. On the slope of this mountain, and extending far up its side, is a magnificent forest. The trees are of great size and height, and their trunks and branches give support to the lianas and other climbing plants, which hang about them in luxurious folds. The density of the forest is so great that it is only with the greatest difficulty and toil that the explorer can force his way through it; while to the Parrots who come up there every night it presents no obstacle, but gives them, under the shelter of its thick foliage, a secure and pleasant resting-place.”

Another observer in West Africa, Dr. Reichenow, found the Grey Parrot breeding in West Africa in the low-lands along the streams and groves of mangrove, and the great difficulty of traversing these swamps is, according to him, the reason why their breeding habits are not better known. They are very destructive to the crops of Indian corn, which they visit in large flocks, wasting as much as they consume. They proceed to roost in flocks, selecting the same route each night; and Governor Ussher says that, whilst up the river Addo, near Lagos, he has seen them crossing at sunset from their feeding-grounds to their roosting-places, when they presented the appearance of one continuous flock passing at a great distance overhead, their screams and chattering being heard long after darkness has set in. They are said by some travellers to be very good eating, but by others to be only good for soup.

The Grey Parrot in his native haunts is an unsociable bird, and a curious story is told by Dr. Dohrn, and confirmed by Mr. Keulemans, respecting the species in Prince’s Island. As has already been stated, the Parrots are extremely common there, but not a single Kite is met with on the island. On the neighbouring island of St. Thomas there is an abundance of Black Kites but not a single Parrot, between whom and the Kites a constant warfare is waged, so that, should one of the latter get driven over to Prince’s Island he is almost immediately set upon by the Parrots and slaughtered; and the compliment is returned if a Parrot is so unfortunate as to land uninvited on St. Thomas’s. On the coast the chief enemy of the Parrots is the Vulturine Sea-Eagle (Gypohierax angolensis).

The colouring of the Grey Parrot is simple, being of a clear bluish-grey, with a red tail. About the face the skin is white, and covered with a soft, velvety feathering, amongst which there is a plentiful supply of white powder, as any one knows who scratches the head of “Polly.” This powder is present in most of the family, but not to the same degree as in the grey species. The young bird in the nest is stated to have the tail dark-grey instead of red, and it is more of a brownish-grey colour, not so clear as in the old bird, while the iris is grey instead of yellow.

The CONURES (ConurinÆ) are the third sub-family of Parrots, and are represented largely in America, only one genus, PalÆornis, being found in India and Africa. They have the head devoid of a crest, with a very long graduated tail, and short and weak tarsi. Amongst the best-known species of this sub-family may be mentioned the Great Macaw.

THE ROSE-RINGED PARRAKEET (PalÆornis torquatus).

This Parrot is probably the species of which we have the earliest known record, as Onesicritus, who was admiral of the fleet of Alexander the Great, is said to have brought from Ceylon a specimen of a green Parrot with a red neck. Many authors have supposed that the large Alexandrine Parrakeet (PalÆornis eupatrius, or Alexandri) was the species referred to, but the habitat of this bird is now known to be the island of Java, and the Rose-ringed Parrakeet is more probably the bird intended. Professor Sundevall, the great authority on Aristotle, believes that the present bird was the only Parrot known to the ancients, being brought into Europe probably from Nubia. Other species were not seen in Europe before the end of the Middle Ages, and the West African species, such as the Senegal Parrot (P. senegalus), in 1455, and the Grey Parrot even later; the latter not being described before Aldrovandus, about the year 1600. American species were brought already in 1493 by Christopher Columbus, and many Indian species after the circumnavigation of Africa about the year 1500. The present bird is common in India and Ceylon, and is, moreover, one of the few species of birds which are common to the Indian Peninsula and the continent of Africa, as it is a well-known bird in Nubia and Abyssinia, and on one occasion a flock has been seen in the neighbourhood of Port Elizabeth in the extreme south of the continent. According to Dr. Jerdon, it is one of the most common and familiar birds in India, frequenting cultivated ground and gardens, even in the barest and least wooded parts of the country, and it is habitually found about towns and villages, constantly perching on the house-top. It is very destructive to most kinds of grain, as well as to fruit-gardens. Burgess says that they carry off the ears of corn to trees to devour at leisure, and Jerdon has observed the same sometimes. When the grains are cut and housed it feeds on the ground in the stubble cornfields, also in meadows, picking up what seeds it can; and now and then takes long flights, hunting for any tree that may be in fruit, skimming close and examining every tree; and when it has made a discovery of one in fruit, circling round, and sailing with outspread and down-pointing wings till it alights on the tree. It associates in flocks of various size, sometimes in vast numbers, and generally many hundreds roost together in some garden or grove. At Saugor all the Parrakeets, Mynahs, Crows, Bee-eaters, &c., of the neighbourhood, for some miles around, roost in company in a large grove of bamboos; and the deafening noise heard there from before sunset till dark, and from the first dawn of day till long after sunrise, gives to the listener the idea of numberless noisy steam machines at work. Many of the flocks of Parrots are very late in returning, and fly along quite low, skimming the ground, and just rising over a tree, house, or any obstacle in the way, and, for several nights in succession, several Parrakeets flew against the wall of a house, on the top of a hill in Saugor, and were killed. The Rose-ringed Parrakeet breeds both in holes in trees, and very commonly in the south of India about houses, in holes in old buildings, pagodas, tombs, &c. It lays four white eggs. Its breeding season is from January to March. Adams states that he has seen this Parrakeet pillage the nests of the Sand Martin; but with what intent he does not guess at. Its ordinary flight is rapid, with repeated strokes of the wings, somewhat wavy laterally, or arrowy. It has a harsh cry, which it always repeats when in flight, as well as at other times. Mr. Philipps remarks that the Kite will sometimes swoop down on them when perched on a tree, and carry one off in its talons; also that Owls attack these birds by night.[243]

The length of this species is about sixteen inches and a half. It is green with a black band extending from under the chin backwards nearly to the nape, and having a rose-coloured collar round the hind neck. The bill is cherry-red, the feet greyish, and the iris pale yellow. The female does not possess the rose-coloured collar, but has instead a narrower one of emerald green.

THE CAROLINA CONURE (Conurus carolinensis).

The Conures are inhabitants of the New World, and are very abundant in South America, but one species, the Carolina Conure, penetrating into the Nearctic region above the line of North Mexico. It is a very handsome bird, but is rapidly decreasing in numbers, and becoming restricted in its range, so much so, that in places where it was once plentiful it is now no longer to be found at all. Even in 1842, when Audubon wrote, they were then fast diminishing, and are now confined to the Southern and South-western States, as far west as the Missouri river. The food of the Carolina Conure is stated to consist chiefly of the seeds of the Cockle-burr (Xanthirum strumarium), but it is also very partial to fruit of all kinds, and it is owing to the way in which it has been shot down that it is now so rare, for Mr. Audubon describes the immense damage done by a flock of Conures to stacks of grain, which they covered in such numbers that they presented to the eye the same effect as if a brilliant-coloured carpet had been thrown over them. The farmers resented the attacks on their property to such an extent that the same naturalist states that he has seen hundreds killed in the course of a few hours, the survivors, after each shot, flying round for a few minutes, and then settling again in a place of most imminent danger. Even in confinement the birds seem to develop their destructive propensities, destroying wood, books, and, in short, everything that comes in their way, while from their incapability of talk, and their harsh, disagreeable voices, they are not much esteemed as pets. As Audubon observes, the woods are the habitation best fitted for them, and there the richness of their plumage, their beautiful mode of flight, and even their screams, afford welcome intimation that the darkest forests and most sequestered swamps are not destitute of charms. According to the same observer, they deposit their eggs, without making a nest, in the bottoms of such cavities in trees as those to which they usually retire at night. Many females deposit their eggs together, and he believed that the number laid by each hen bird was two; the eggs were greenish-white, and nearly round, and the young are at first covered with soft down, such as is seen in nestling Owls. The colour of this Parrot is green, the head and neck bright-yellow, and the forehead and region of the eye scarlet; the bill is white, the feet pale flesh-colour, and the iris hazel; the length of the bird being about fourteen inches. The female is like the male, but the young bird has the head green instead of yellow.

THE PARRAKEETS (PlatycercinÆ).

These form the fourth sub-family, and are remarkable for their slender, smooth tarsus, which is formed as in most birds; and the voice is more agreeable than in the other genera, the members of which, almost without exception, have a harsh and unpleasant cry. They are mostly inhabitants of Australia, whence come several of them well known as cage-birds, such as the King Parrakeet (Platycercus scapulatus), the Rosella, or Rose Parrakeet (P. eximius), and in America they are represented by the single genus Bolborhynchus.

THE OWL PARROT (Strigops[244] habroptilus[245]).

The genus Strigops is the sole representative of the fifth sub-family, the StrigopinÆ. It is one of the most remarkable of all the Parrots, and is met with only in New Zealand. The face shows a disc exactly as in the Owls, whence the name, and the wing is very short, convex, and rounded. In its habits this bird is chiefly nocturnal, but not entirely so; the most remarkable fact connected with it being, perhaps, its unwillingness to fly. Thus Dr. Buller, F.R.S., in his excellent work on the “Birds of New Zealand,” writes:—“All who have studied the bird in its natural state agree on this point, that the wings, although sufficiently large and strong, are perfectly useless for purposes of flight, and that the bird merely spreads them to break the force of its fall in descending from a higher point to a lower, when suddenly surprised; in some instances even this use of them is neglected, the bird falling to the ground like a stone. We are naturally led to ask how it is that a bird possessing large and well-formed wings should be found utterly incapable of flight. On removing the skin from the body it is seen that the muscles by means of which the movements of these anterior limbs are regulated are very well developed, but are largely overlaid with fat. The bird is known to be a ground-feeder, with a voracious appetite, and to subsist chiefly on vegetable mosses, which, possessing but little nutriment, require to be eaten in large quantities; and Dr. Haast informs us that he has sometimes seen them with their crops so distended and heavy, that the birds were scarcely able to move. These mosses cover the ground and the roots or trunks of prostrate trees, requiring to be sought for on foot; and the bird’s habit of feeding at night, in a country where there are no indigenous predatory quadrupeds, would render flight a superfluous exertion, and a faculty of no especial advantage in the struggle for existence. Thus it may be reasonably inferred that disuse, under the usual operations of the laws of nature, has occasioned this disability of wing; for there is no physiological reason why the Kakapo should not be as good a flier as any other Parrot.”

The Kakapo, as it is called in New Zealand, meaning a “Night Parrot,” is becoming rarer every year, as the places which it affects become more and more accessible to the colonists. From the long accounts of its habits given in Dr. Buller’s work, the following note of Dr. Haast is selected, as it gives a good idea of the habits of this singular species:—“So little is known of this solitary inhabitant of our primÆval forests, that the following short narrative of observations, which I was fortunate enough to make during my recent West Coast journey, may interest you. Although I was travelling almost continuously for several years in the interior of these islands, it was only during my last journey that I was enabled to study its natural history. I was well acquainted with its call, and had often observed its tracks in the sands of the river-beds and in the fresh-fallen snow, but I had not actually seen it. The principal reason for this was, that formerly I had no dog with me; and consequently it would only be by the greatest accident that this bird, not at all rare in those untrodden regions, could be obtained. The true habitat of the Kakapo is the mossy Fagus forest, near mountain streams, with occasional grassy plots; but it also lives both on the hill-sides, amongst enormous blocks of rock, mostly overgrown with roots of trees and a deep covering of moss, and on wooded flats along the banks of the larger rivers, liable to be inundated by heavy rainfalls or by the sudden melting of the snow.... It is a striking fact, that—with the exception only of the valley of the river Makarora, forming Lake Wanaka—I never found the Kakapo on the eastern side of the Alps, although extensive Fagus forests exist there also. It appears to have crossed the main chain at the low wooded pass which leads from the source of the Haast to that of the Makarora, and reached the mouth of this river at Lake Wanaka, where probably the absence of forest put a stop to its farther advance. It is very abundant in the valley of the last-mentioned river, and is found even in the Makarora bush, notwithstanding that numerous sawyers are at work there. When camped on the borders of that forest we continually heard its call near our tents; but none of the sawyers had any idea of the existence of such a large bird in their neighbourhood, although the irregular shrill call had sometimes attracted their attention. It also occurs in the valley of the Wilkin, but is less numerous there, which may be accounted for by the existence of wild dogs in this locality. We may therefore safely assume that from the junction of this river with the Makarora the Kakapo ascended toward the sources of the former. In the valley of the Hunter, only divided by a mountain-range of great altitude but with some low saddles, no sign of it was to be observed, although large Fagus forests would appear to offer a propitious abode. This bird has hitherto been pronounced to be of true nocturnal habits; but I think, from observations I was able to make, that this opinion ought to be somewhat modified. It is true that generally an hour after sunset, the dense foliage of the forest giving additional darkness to the country, its call began to be heard all around us. It then commenced to rove about, and, attracted by the glare of our camp-fire, frequently came close to our tent, when the heedless bird was immediately caught by our dog. But as we met with it on two occasions in the daytime, occupied in feeding, and as I observed that it knew and understood perfectly well the danger which approached, we may assume that it has, at least in this respect, some relation to diurnal birds. In order to show why I come to this conclusion, I will particularise the two occurrences I have mentioned, as they appear to bear directly upon some other important points in the structure of this bird. When returning from the West Coast, we observed in the afternoon (the sky being clouded) a Kakapo sitting on the prostrate trunk of a tree in the open forest. When about ten yards from it, the bird observed us, and disappeared instantly in its hole, whence, with the aid of the dog, we afterwards took it. It is clear that in this case the bird was not overtaken by the coming day when far from its abode, but that it left its retreat voluntarily during daylight. The second instance I shall mention is more striking, and shows that the Kakapo feeds also during the day. It was towards evening, but still broad daylight, when we passed along the hill-side near a deep rocky gorge, and saw a large Kakapo sitting on a low fuchsia-tree, about ten feet from the ground, feeding on the berries. When close to it, the bird saw us, and instantly dropped down as if shot, and disappeared amongst the huge fragments of rocks strewed along the hill-side. But the most remarkable circumstance was, that the frightened bird did not open its wings to break its fall, but dropped as if it did not possess any wings at all. In order to see whether they would fly, or even flutter, when pursued by an enemy, I placed on the ground a full-grown specimen, which had been caught by the dog without being hurt. It was on a large shingle-bed, so that the bird had ample room for running or rising on the wing, if for this purpose it wanted space. I was not a little astonished to observe that it only started running towards the nearest point of the forest, where a dark shadow was apparent, and it went quicker than I had anticipated, considering the position of its toes and its clumsy figure, its gait resembling closely that of a Gallinaceous bird in its movements. As I was standing sideways to it, I thought that it kept its wings closed upon its body, so little were they opened; but my companion, who was equally anxious to see how our prisoner would try to escape, and who stood a little behind it, observed that it opened its wings slightly, but without flapping them in any degree, using them apparently more for keeping its balance than for accelerating its movements. This would almost lead to the conclusion that the Kakapo does not travel far, especially as I have already shown that its whole structure is ill adapted for running. But having myself frequently followed its tracks, and found them to extend a great distance over the sandy reaches along the river, such a conclusion as that suggested above would be erroneous. It must be exceedingly fond of water, because in many localities its tracks were observed for half a mile over shingle and sand to the banks of the river; and I am unable to explain the curious fact, unless the object be to mix river water with the enormous mass of pulpy vegetable matter which is to be found in its crop. With the exception of two specimens, the crops of which were filled with the large berries of a small-leaved Coriaria, by which their flesh was flavoured, all the birds examined by me had their crops widely distended by a mass of finely-comminuted vegetable mosses, weighing many ounces.

“I carefully examined the subterranean abode of this bird. From the account given by the natives, I thought that it would be found living in well-excavated holes, resembling in their construction those of the Fox or Badger; that the entrance would be so small as to enable only the inhabitants to enter, and thus to exclude larger animals from persecuting it. This, however, is not the case; because, with one exception, all the specimens obtained were either in fissures amongst rocks, or in cavities formed by huge blocks tumbled one over another, and overgrown with moss, or in holes formed by the roots of decayed trees. The cavities in the rocks were generally sufficiently large to allow of my dog, a good-sized Retriever, freely entering them. The openings to the other holes were smaller, and it was sometimes necessary to cut away a few roots at the entrance. Inside, the cavity was invariably of very large size, because we could plainly hear the dog advancing several yards before commencing his scuffle with the occupant; and on returning with the bird in his mouth, he always emerged head foremost, thus proving that the chamber was large enough to enable him to turn himself round. Before he had become accustomed to the work, the dog was often punished severely by the bird’s powerful beak and claws; but he ultimately became quite an expert, always seizing his prey by the head and crushing the skull.

“The holes or abodes of the Kakapo were not only on the mountain sides, but also on the flats near the river banks which are liable to be overflowed. There can be no doubt that when a sudden inundation takes place the bird can save itself upon a bush or neighbouring tree. I do not think, however, that it can climb the boles of standing trees, because it never resorted to them during the night or when persecuted by the dog—except in one single case, when the bird ascended a leaning tree close to our camp, and remained till the dog had given up the attempt to obtain it. But, notwithstanding that almost all the abodes that came under examination were natural cavities, I met with one hole that seemed to have been regularly mined. On the northern bank of the river Haast, just below the junction of the river Clarke, a large flat occurs, formed by deposits of sand, over which a thin layer of vegetable mould is spread, and on which a luxuriant vegetation has sprung up. The river, in washing against these deposits, has in some cases formed nearly perpendicular banks, about six to eight feet high. At one spot, about two feet below the surface, several rounded holes were observed, and the dog tried in vain to enter them. After carefully scenting the ground, he began to scratch the surface with his paws, and soon succeeded in widening the entrance sufficiently to admit his body, and he immediately afterwards emerged with the bird in his mouth. There is no doubt in my own mind that this hole at least had been excavated; and the burrowing faculty of the bird may be considered so far established. On a flat in the valley of the Makarora, the dog brought one from the interior of a hollow drift-tree, which was lying amongst sedges and grasses in an old river channel. There never was more than one individual in the hole, although very often, within twenty or thirty yards of it, another specimen would be scented out by the dog, the two being generally of opposite sexes. At night-time, in visiting our camp fire, they generally came in pairs, the two being successively caught by my dog, a single or sometimes a repeated angry growl from the bird informing us that he had hold of it. These circumstances lead me to conclude that during the day each inhabits separately its own hole, and that only after dark do they meet for feeding and for social intercourse.”

In size, the Owl Parrot is about twenty-six inches in length, and is of a dark sap-green colour, varied and mottled with dark brown and yellow; the face is lighter, being darker brown, the ear-coverts mixed with yellow; the belly and under tail-coverts, as well as the wing-lining, are rather brighter yellow than the rest of the under surface. The tint of green varies a good deal: from light yellowish to dark sap-green.

THE STRAIGHT-BILLED PARROTS (Psittaci orthognathi).[246]

In this second section of the Parrots only one family is known, all the members of which are easily recognisable by their straightened bills, the lower mandible being gently compressed, and not bulged out, with a nearly straight tip, the cutting edges with scarcely any indentation. With the exception of the Lorikeets (Loriculus), members of which are found in India and the Indo-Malayan region, the whole family is Australian, being confined to that continent and the adjacent Molucca Islands, New Zealand, and the islands of Polynesia.

THE BRUSH-TONGUED PARROTS.[247]

The Brush-tongued Lorikeets are all birds of very beautiful colouring, and are mostly found in Australia, the Moluccas, some few species extending through the Oceanic Islands. All seem to be very similar in their habits, an account of which is given by Mr. Gould. He says:—“This arboreal group of honey-eating Lorikeets, if not so numerous in species as the seed-feeding Parrakeets, is individually as abundant, and more universally dispersed, being found in every part of Australia yet visited. In their structure, habits, food, and mode of nidification, no two groups of the same family can be more widely different than these forms: the pencilled tongue, the diminutive stomach, thick skin, tough flesh, and foetid odour of the Trichoglossi presenting a decided contrast to the simple tongue, capacious crop and stomach, thin skin, delicate flesh, and freedom from odour of the Platycerci; besides which, the Trichoglossi possess a strong os furcatorium, which bone is wanting in the Platycerci. Hence, while the Trichoglossi are powerful, swift, and arrow-like in their flight, the Platycerci are feeble, pass through the air in a succession of undulations near the ground, and never fly to any great distance. The mode in which the two groups approach, alight upon, and quit the trees is also remarkably different—the Trichoglossi dashing among and alighting upon the branches simultaneously and with the utmost rapidity, and quitting them in like manner, leaving the deafening sound of their thousand voices echoing through the woods; while the Platycerci rise to the branch after their undulating flight, and leave them again in a quiet manner, no sound being heard but their inward piping note. The eggs of the Trichoglossi are from two to four in number; those of the others are more numerous.”

THE NESTORS (Nestor).

These Parrots, which are only found in New Zealand, are generally placed with the other Brush-tongued Parrots. “In all Parrots the fleshy tongue ends anteriorly in a dilated portion, supported by a narrower neck. This tip is much like the end of a human finger, as mentioned by most observers; and its function is similar also, for it is employed by the bird as a third prehensile organ in connection with the upper and lower beak, any solid substance being held by the tongue and upper beak, while the mandible is freed to give another bite. Continuing the simile of the finger, the tip is directed forwards with the nail-like portion downwards, the part corresponding to the free edge of the nail appearing along the lower margin of the anterior rounded surface.[248] In the Trichoglossi, this ‘nail,’ or horny plate, is stated to be present; but on the superior surface of the tongue, between the lateral edges of the unguis, or nail, there is an arrangement of retroverted papillÆ, forming a spinous covering, and their mechanism is such that when the tongue is protruded beyond the mouth to grasp any object, the papillÆ stand upright, or are even directed somewhat forward. In Nestor,” continues Professor Garrod, “there are no papillÆ of this description; but the tongue is here, as Dr. Buller says, ‘soft, rounded on the edges, with a broad central groove,’ and it is as smooth as in other Parrots. Therefore, the Kaka Parrot cannot in this point be said to approach the Trichoglossini (badly so called). The peculiarity of the tongue of Nestor consists in the fact that the interior edge of the unguis, or nail, always free (though for a very short distance) and jagged in the other birds of the class, is here prolonged forwards beyond the tips of the tongue for about one-tenth of an inch, as a delicate fringe of hairs with a crescentic contour. In the living bird the mouth is moist, as in the Lories, and not, as in the Cockatoos and others, dry and scaly.”

The members of the genus Nestor are entirely confined to New Zealand, the species of Philip Island (Nestor productus) being now extinct. Their habits, like those of all New Zealand birds, are sufficiently curious, one of them, known as the “Kea” (N. notabilis), actually feeding on raw flesh, as is noticed by Dr. Buller:—“Those that frequent the sheep stations appear to live almost exclusively on flesh. They claim the sheep’s heads that are thrown out from the slaughter-shed, and pick them perfectly clean, leaving nothing but the bones.” An eye-witness described this operation to Dr. Hector as follows:—“Perching itself on the sheep’s head or other offal, the bird proceeds to tear off the skin and flesh, devouring it piecemeal, after the manner of a Hawk; or at other times holding the object down with one foot, and with the other grasping the portion it was eating, after the ordinary fashion of Parrots.” Dr. Buller also mentions instances of tame Parrots devouring their comrades in captivity; but the Kea is the only Parrot known to eat flesh when flying wild.

THE KAKA PARROT (Nestor meridionalis).

This Parrot is best described by the above-named ornithologist in the work on the Birds of New Zealand, to which frequent reference has been made in these pages:—“Sprightly in its actions, eminently social, and more noisy than any other inhabitant of the woods, the Kaka holds a prominent place among our native birds. Being semi-nocturnal in its habits, it generally remains quiet and concealed during the heat of the day. If, however, the sportsman should happen to find a stray one, and to wound instead of killing it, its cries of distress will immediately rouse the whole fraternity from their slumbers, and all the Kakas within hearing will come to the rescue, and make the forest echo with their discordant screams. Unless, however, disturbed by some exciting cause of this sort, they remain in close cover till the approach of the cooler hours. Then they come forth with noisy clamour, and may be seen, far above the tree-tops, winging their way to some favourite feeding-place; or they may be observed climbing up the rough vine-clad boles of the trees, freely using their powerful mandibles, and assuming every variety of attitude, or diligently tearing open the dead roots of the close epiphytic vegetation in their eager search for insects and their larvÆ. In the spring and summer, when the woods are full of wild blossom and berry, these birds have a prodigality of food, and may be seen alternately filling their crops with a variety of juicy berries, or sucking nectar from the crimson flowers of the rata (Metrosideros robusta) by means of their brush-fringed tongues. With the earliest streaks of dawn, and while the underwoods are still wrapped in darkness, the wild cry of this bird breaks upon the ear with a strange effect. It is the sound that wakes the weary traveller encamped in the bush; and the announcement of his ever active Maori attendant—‘Kua tangi te Kaka’—is an intimation that it is time to be active. But although habitually recluse during the day, it is not always so.

“During gloomy weather it is often very active; and sometimes even in the bright sunshine a score of them may be seen together, flying and circling about high above the tree-tops, uttering their loud screams, and apparently bent on convivial amusement. When the shades of evening bring a deeper gloom into the depths of the forest, and all sounds are hushed, save the low hoot of the waking Morepork, or the occasional cheep-cheep of the startled Robin, the Kaka becomes more animated. It may then be heard calling to its fellows in a harsh rasping note, something like the syllables ‘t-chrut, t-chrut,’ or indulging in a clear musical whistle with a short refrain. It is strictly arboreal in its habits, and subsists to a large extent on insects and their larvÆ, so that it is probably one of our most useful species. Where they exist in large numbers they must act very beneficially on the timber forests; for in the domain of Nature important results are often produced by apparently trivial agencies. Like all the honey-eaters, while supplying their own wants, they do good service with their brush tongues by fertilising the blossoms of various trees, and thus assisting in their propagation; while, on the other hand, the diligent search they prosecute for insects and grubs, and the countless numbers daily consumed by each individual, must materially affect the economy of the native woods. On this latter point Mr. Potts has furnished the following valuable note:—‘Although so often accused of injuring trees by stripping down the bark, from careful observation we do not believe a flourishing tree is ever damaged by its beak. It is the apparently vigorous, but really unsound, tree that is attacked, already doomed by the presence of countless multitudes of insects of many varieties, of which it is at once the food and refuge, either in their perfect or larval state. In the persevering and laborious pursuit of this favourite food, the Kaka doubtless lends his assistance in hastening the fall of decaying trees; the loosened strips of bark dissevered admit to the exposed wood rain and moisture collected from dews and mists, to be dried by evaporation by the heat of the sun, by the desiccating winds, only to become saturated again. Under this alternation the insidious fungi take root, decay rapidly sets in, the close-grained timber gives place to a soft spongy texture, branches drop off, and gradually the once noble-looking tree succumbs to its fate; but its gradual decay and fall, the work of years, has proved beneficial to the surrounding plants: the dropping of the branches admits light and air to the aspiring saplings, assists in checking the undue spread of lichens and epiphytes; and when the old stem falls, tottering down from its very rottenness, its place is supplied by vigorous successors.’

“In estimating the value of the labours of the Kaka as an insect-eater, it should not be forgotten that the family of Woodpeckers is entirely absent from our bird-fauna, and that upon this indefatigable climber devolves some share of the duty of representing that peculiar group of forest birds. How diligently the insects are sought for by the Kaka may be judged from the heaps of bark chips that lie beneath the decaying trees. Often it may be noticed on the ground tearing away the mossy clothing of the huge gnarled roots that spread around; even the soft rotten boughs are gnawed to obtain the larvÆ of some of the larger bush insects.”

The Nestors vary immensely in colour, so that many of the plumages now known to be only occasional varieties have been supposed to be specifically distinct. They are birds of large size, and have the cere, or fleshy portion at the base of the bill, rather strongly developed, the bill being large and powerful. The colour is of an olivaceous brown, with a dash of dark red, the crown grey, and the ear-coverts shaded with orange, the cheeks with dark red, as also are the lower back, rump, and upper tail-coverts and abdomen.

The structure of the bill of the Parrots is so remarkable as to be worthy of a more extended description than could be given to it when it was incidentally referred to in our account of the osteology of birds in general. The way, however, in which the upper and lower jaws are connected with the skull was there explained, and a reference to the description on pp. 241–2 will save the necessity of much repetition now. That account embraced all members of the class of birds; here we are dealing only with certain peculiar modifications.

If the skull of an adult bird of any familiar type, such as a Crow, be examined, it will be seen that the bones of the upper jaw are apparently continuous, and form one piece, with those of the forehead and sides of the head. There is nothing that looks like a joint, or “articulation,” between the bill where it is attached to the forehead above, or to the long jugal arch (“quadrato-jugal”) that runs each side to reach the quadrate bone, or to the flattened bones that help to form the palate below. But if the skull of this same bird had been carefully examined in an earlier stage of its existence, it would have been found that the bones were at first distinctly separate at the three points here indicated, and were merely connected by a soft membranous substance. In many birds this “inter-osseous” membrane connecting the bones of the upper mandible with the skull proper never becomes true bone at all, but remains throughout life more or less soft and flexible. And by this means a sort of elastic joint is established, conferring upon the beak a certain range of up and down motion.

Now in Parrots, more conspicuously than in any other birds, each of these joints, not alone that of the beak with the forehead, is converted into a true hinge-like articulation, so that the upper jaw can be raised to a very considerable extent; and to effect this motion the muscles of the palate are developed into a somewhat complex apparatus.

If the figure be examined, the actual relations of the bones can be readily made out. At a is seen the line where the bill is articulated to the frontal bones. At b is the joint which the bill makes with the long jugal bone (j). And at c is its articulation with the palatine bone (pl).

But it is not this mobility of the upper mandible alone that gives the characteristic aspect to the Parrot’s face. There are several other points in which Parrots agree, with a wonderful uniformity, among themselves, and differ from most other birds. Besides the absence of certain important processes, called “basi-pterygoid,” the ploughshare-like bone, or “vomer,” is altogether wanting. The maxillo-palatines are very largely developed and spongy; they unite with one another in the middle line, and with the thick wall of bone into which the septum nasi is in Parrots strongly ossified, and thus fill up almost the whole base of the beak. The long palatine bones proper are remarkably flattened from side to side for most of their length; their hinder edges are more or less notched, and quite free from any bony attachment; and they are united at about the hinder third of their length by a plate-like extension from each. The scoop-like lower mandible, with its tip that seems to have been cut off “square,” to be out of the way of the strongly-hooked upper jaw, is too familiar to call for any particular description.

THE SECOND ORDER.—PICARIAN BIRDS SUB-ORDER I.—ZYGODACTYLÆ.

CHAPTER VIII.
CUCKOOS—HONEY GUIDES—PLAINTAIN-EATERS—WOODPECKERS—TOUCANS—BARBETS.

THE SECOND ORDER OF ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.—THE CUCKOOS (CuculidÆ).

WITHIN the limits of this family are comprised birds of very different habits and of very different structure, some being inhabitants of the ground and of the thick bush, whilst others are lovers of the open, and are birds of very strong flight. Without being able to climb up the trunks of trees, like our Woodpeckers, the Cuckoos possess the zygodactyle foot of the climbing bird in a very perfect degree. They differ from others of the Scansorial group by the position of the nostrils, which are placed rather low in the upper mandible, not far from the cutting edge of it. There are three sub-families of Cuckoos, distinguished by the form of the wing: the first of these has the wings short, rounded, and with from two to six, or even seven, of the primaries slightly indented in the middle. They have the feathers of the thigh close-set, and not over-hanging like those of a Hawk, as is the case with the true Cuckoos.

THE BUSH CUCKOOS (PhÆnicophÆinÆ).

These birds have representatives in India, Australia, and Africa, and even South America. Some of them are of very varied and beautiful plumages, and many of them reach the size of a moderate game-bird. The first genus of these Bush Cuckoos contains

THE LARK-HEELED CUCKOOS, OR COUCALS (Centropus).

These are remarkable for the form of the hind toe, which is furnished with a straight nail or claw, very strong, always equalling and often surpassing the length of the hind toe itself. These Lark-heeled Cuckoos do not occur in Europe, but are found all over Africa, India, and Burmah, to China, and throughout the Malayan Archipelago to Australia. They frequent the thick bush, and have a very similar call-note, which has been rendered by some observers as resembling the syllables “bop bop,” while on the West Coast of Africa, from their cry “hoot, hoot,” they have been nicknamed by the colonists the “Scotchman.” Writing of the Eyebrowed Lark-heel, Mr. Thomas Ayres says:—“This bird frequents the dense bush, and principally lives amongst impenetrable creepers, where it hunts about in search of the insects which it feeds upon; if disturbed, it flies but a short distance. The note is a loud, melancholy, cooing noise; they call most in wet weather. They are fond of getting up into trees that are covered with creeping plants, and sunning themselves; they generally fly on to the lower part, and then gradually hop upwards till they gain the top, but they can fly a very short distance at a time, and are easily caught if chased out into the open grass, though they lie very close, and it requires a good dog to find them. If disturbed, they immediately fly to the thickest cover near at hand, and commence running, like the Rails.” Mr. Ayres says that they feed on Grasshoppers, Caterpillars, and other insects; but Mr. Rickard, another excellent field naturalist, in South Africa has found a small Snake and Locusts in their stomachs, one having a small bird—a White-eye (Zosterops)—inside him. The Lark-heeled Cuckoos are not parasitic, like the true Cuckoos and many others: that is to say, they build their own nests, and do not employ the nests of other birds to place their eggs in. When hatched, the young birds are very curious, being covered with long hairs and bristles. In colour the Lark-heels are for the most part rufous, with black heads, but some of them are almost entirely rufous, the shafts of all the feathers much stiffened, so that the plumage lies very close, which must be of advantage to birds who have to climb a great deal amongst the lianas and creepers of tropical forests.

Of the Indian Coucal (Centropus bengalensis) an interesting account is given by Mr. Gammie, which affords a very good idea of the habits of these Bush Cuckoos. He says:—“This species has increased largely of late. Among grassy scrub, up to 3,500 feet, it is now abundant, where, only a few years ago, it was rarely to be found. In the earlier part of the rainy season its odd, monotonous notes are to be heard in every direction. I am not sure that the male calls, but have shot the female—as I found by dissection—when calling. It has a call of a double series of notes: ‘whoot, whoot, whoot, whoot;’ then, after a pause of four or five seconds, ‘kurook, kurook, kurook, kurook.’ The ‘whoot’ is quite ventriloquistic, sounding as if it came from a distance of six or seven yards from the bird. Before calling, it seats itself about five feet from the ground; then you see it draw its neck and body together, slightly puffing out its body-feathers, raising its back, and depressing its tail, and for every ‘whoot’ there is a violent throb of the body, as if the bird was in great pain; at the same time the motion of the throat is scarcely perceptible, and its bill is closed. Then, as if greatly relieved, it stretches itself out, the feathers fall smooth, and with open mouth and throbbing throat comes the ‘kurook,’ without the slightest attempt at ventriloquism. When searching for the caller, one must take no notice of the ‘whoot,’ but wait for the ‘kurook.’ It feeds almost entirely on Grasshoppers, and frequents the open, scrubby tracts only. I have never once seen it in larger forests.”[249]

The Malkohas are another remarkable group of the Bush Cuckoos, and are found throughout India, Ceylon, the Indo-Malayan region and islands, as far as the Celebes. The genera differ principally in the shape of the nostril; and although differences of structure are usually considered sufficient characters on which to found distinctions of genus, some ornithologists are of opinion that the variation in the form of the nostril only separates them as species. One of the most remarkable of these Bush Cuckoos is the Carpococcyx radiatus of Borneo, which, when alive, is stated by Mr. Wallace to resemble a Pheasant in appearance and gait. It lives much on the ground, and is often caught by the Malays in the snares which they set for Argus Pheasants and other game-birds. In Madagascar they are represented by the Couas (Sericosomus), of which there are no less than ten species found in that island. They are the inhabitants of the Palestrina forests, where their monotonous notes are often heard. The cry of the Blue Cuckoo is said by Messrs. Pollen and Van Dam to resemble the syllables cir-cir-cir, while that of the Crested Coua (S. cristatus) is toc-toc-toc. When calling, the latter bird raises its crest and flaps its tail and wings. Its flight is difficult and generally descending, and the bird never flaps its wings when it flies. It is ordinarily seen on the lower branches of the trees, and loves to repose during the great heat of the day in the sheltered parts of the trees, resting on the branches and puffing out its feathers.

In America there are several allied forms of Bush Cuckoos, many of which frequent the ground, one of the most interesting being the Geococcyx californianus, which is called the “Road-runner,” and is a bird of such powers of running that it is sometimes hunted on horseback and pursued with hounds, a test of fleetness in which it is said often to make a longer race than its pursuers anticipated.

THE COMMON CUCKOO (Cuculus canorus).

The true Cuckoos, of which the English bird is the type, differ from the Bush Cuckoos in being more Accipitrine, or Hawk-like, in their appearance, and having long thigh-feathers, like the majority of the birds of prey. The nostril is swollen and rounded. It would be easy to write a complete book on this mysterious bird, whose habits and cry have rendered it an object of interest in all countries and from very early times. The popular superstition concerning the nestling—that the young Cuckoo, when sufficiently grown, and having no further use for the little foster-parent to whose care it owed its life and well-being, used to devour the latter—has often been held up as an “awful example” to ungrateful children who become a burden and a shame to their parents when they are unable to provide for them any longer. The idea of the young Cuckoo devouring its protector is no doubt erroneous, and, as Brehm puts it, has arisen from the oft-recurring spectacle of a little Wren or a diminutive Gold-crest placing food in the wide-gaping mouth of the young Cuckoo, which, indeed, without much stretch of the imagination, might swallow it. In Mr. Gould’s “Birds of Great Britain” there is a picture showing the dÉnouement of the young Cuckoo’s story, when, still callow and blind, it is represented as disposing of some unfortunate little Tree Pipits which were hatched along with it in the same nest. This incident was sketched by Mrs. Hugh Blackburn, who thus describes the occurrence:—“The nest (which we watched last June, after finding the Cuckoo’s egg in it) was that of the common Meadow Pipit (Titlark, Mosscheeper), and had two Pipit’s eggs besides that of the Cuckoo. It was below a heather bush on the declivity of a low abrupt bank or highland hill-side, in Moidart. At one visit the Pipits were found to be hatched, but not the Cuckoo. At the next visit, which was after an interval of forty-eight hours, we found the young Cuckoo alone in the nest, and both the young Pipits lying down the bank, about ten inches from the margin of the nest, but quite lively after being warmed in the hand. They were replaced in the nest beside the Cuckoo, which struggled about till it got its back under one of them, when it climbed backwards directly up the open side of the nest, and hitched the Pipit from its back on to the edge. It then stood quite upright on its legs, which were straddled wide apart, with the claws firmly fixed half-way down the inside of the nest among the interlacing fibres of which the nest was woven, and stretching its wings apart and backwards, it elbowed the Pipit fairly over the margin so far that its struggles took it down the bank instead of back into the nest. After this the Cuckoo stood a minute or two, feeling back with its wings, as if to make sure that the Pipit was fairly overboard, and then subsided into the bottom of the nest. As it was getting late, and the Cuckoo did not immediately set to work on the other nestling, I replaced the ejected one and went home. On returning next day, both nestlings were found dead and cold out of the nest. I replaced one of them, but the Cuckoo made no effort to get under it and eject it, but seated itself contentedly on the top of it. All this I find accords accurately with Jenner’s description of what he saw. But what struck me most was this: the Cuckoo was perfectly naked, without the vestige of a feather, or even a hint of future feathers; its eyes were not yet opened, and its neck seemed too weak to support the weight of its head. The Pipits had well-developed quills on the wings and back, and had bright eyes, partially open; yet they seemed quite helpless under the manipulations of the Cuckoo, which looked a much less developed creature. The Cuckoo’s legs, however, seemed very muscular, and it appeared to feel about with its wings, which were absolutely featherless, as with hands; the spurious wing (unusually large in proportion) looked like a spread-out thumb. The most singular thing of all was the direct purpose with which the blind little monster made for the open side of the nest, the only part where it could throw its burden down the bank. I think all the spectators felt the sort of horror and awe at the apparent inadequacy of the creature’s intelligence to its acts that one might have felt at seeing a toothless hag raise a ghost by an incantation. It was horribly ‘uncanny’ and ‘gruesome!’”

The above account of Mrs. Blackburn’s graphically describes the ejection of its foster-brothers and sisters by the nestling Cuckoo; and this brings us to the next part of the subject, viz., the breeding habits of this curious bird. As is well known of the hen bird, it never makes its own nest, but it is believed that during its stay in Europe it lays altogether about eight eggs, all of which are deposited in the nest of some other bird. The variation in the colour of the Cuckoo’s eggs is very great, from a white speckled egg, like that of the Water Wagtail, or the dark brown mottled egg of a Lark or Pipit, to the blue egg of the Hedge Sparrow; while Mr. Dresser states that he has seen even green eggs, and is of opinion that the same female will lay similarly coloured eggs. The researches of ornithologists during recent years sufficiently prove that the female Cuckoo lays her egg upon the ground, and then deposits it in the nest of a bird whose egg resembles the one she has just laid; hence it is probable that a hen Cuckoo killed with a broken egg in its mouth is the rightful owner of the latter, and has not been sucking the eggs of some other bird, as the species is often supposed to do. The writer has on many occasions found Cuckoos’ eggs in the nest of the Water Wagtail in Berkshire, the latter bird being frequently selected by the Cuckoo as her victim; and he can affirm that the eggs were in all cases similar to those of the Wagtail, but were a little larger in size. In due time the young Cuckoo is hatched, the rightful owners of the nest ejected, and for weeks the powers of the unhappy foster-parents are exercised to the utmost in feeding the gaping and constantly-complaining occupant of their domain. Even when the young Cuckoo has outgrown the nest, and is strong enough to fly about, he is still attended by his foster-parents. So great is the instinct of the young Cuckoo to receive food from other birds, that a specimen in the Zoological Gardens which managed to live through the winter and put on his full plumage in the following spring, on the appearance of a Hedge Sparrow in the same aviary, fluttered down, and with drooping wings and open bill solicited food from his small companion.

The reason for the parasitic habits of the Cuckoo is hard to discover, but it appears probable that the number of males greatly exceeds that of the females, and one observer has calculated that the preponderance of the former sex over the latter is as much as twenty-five to one. This would seem to be too large an estimate, but the proportion is probably about five males to one female. The latter may not only be distinguished by its somewhat darker plumage, and a certain red colour on the chest (which is more apparent when the bird is alive), but has a somewhat different note from that of her mate, and calls cuckoo in a much sharper and less emphasised way than the male bird. Thus, if the call of the female be represented by the syllables cuck-oo, the responsive utterance of the male would be coo-coo. The female has also another call-note, which may be described as “whittling,” and is well expressed by Brehm as kwikwikwik, the sound of which is quite sufficient to set all the male Cuckoos within hearing cuckoo-ing with might and main. Thus it happened to the writer, on a still, quiet evening in spring a few years ago, to be fishing beneath a large elm-tree on the river Thames, when a female Cuckoo flew into the topmost boughs and uttered her peculiar note. From four different points of the compass she was answered by male birds, who one and all directed their flight toward the tree where she was perched. A tremendous scrimmage ensued, and apparently a fight took place, but, being suddenly alarmed, they all took flight in different directions. It is certain that during the breeding season the Cuckoo is a very passionate bird, and loves to call until, from sheer hoarseness, he is obliged to stop; sometimes his cry comes from the middle of a thickly-wooded tree, at other times he will sit on a bare dead branch, or swing in the breeze from the top of a fir-tree. The female bird is more retiring and keeps nearer the ground, so that it is possible to shoot her by hiding behind a tree as she hunts after insects near one of their favourite haunts. The same plurality of males has been observed by the author during the spring at Avington Park, in Hampshire; and on one occasion, when the female was shot, the note of the males was scarcely heard again, as if they had disappeared from the vicinity.

Brehm remarks:[250] “The note itself, and the manner in which it is emitted, are typical of the bird’s habits and character. The same abruptness, insatiability, eagerness, the same rage, are noticeable in its whole conduct. The Cuckoo is a greedy feeder, and a discontented, ill-conditioned, passionate fellow: in short, a decidedly unamiable bird. Its food consists entirely of insects and their larvÆ; young Cuckoos, alone, will sometimes eat berries; Cockchafers, Fern-beetles, Moths, and Dragon-flies are favourite morsels, and Caterpillars (especially the hairy species, which no other birds ever devour) being preferred. The hairs of these creatures cling so close to the inner membranes of the stomach that the use of the magnifying glass is necessary to convince one that they do not form part and parcel of that organ. Its keen sight enables the Cuckoo to see Caterpillars from a great distance, when it flies quickly to the spot, seizes them, and returns to its perch, without spending much time over the operation or climbing about after them. The bird is so constantly on the move that it always manages to obtain sufficient food—which is saying a great deal, for its stomach is large and its powers of digestion almost unlimited. Thus it would be a most useful bird, did it not cause so much damage while breeding.”

The Cuckoo resembles a Hawk so much in flight that even a practised eye sometimes fails to distinguish it from a Kestrel at first sight. There is, however, a certain pointed look about the body of the bird which distinguishes it from a Hawk; if near enough, the flat, obtuse head of the latter making the bird appear as if it had no head at all.

Lastly, one word as to the winter home of the Cuckoo. It is always known in England as the “harbinger of spring,” and with the exception of the Swift, who very rarely makes a mistake in the period of his advent, there is no bird whose arrival may be considered so certain a sign of that genial season of the year. Just as the Swifts, however, sometimes come in for some cold weather, which proves fatal to many of them, so the Cuckoos have been known to have been detained by cold winds in the south of England, where they have remained in flocks until the weather was more seasonable and they could distribute themselves over the country. They are seldom heard of in the height of summer; and, as the old rhyme says, “in June he changes his tune, in August go he must.” And it seems certain that this bird leaves England early in that month, but not entirely, as young birds—perhaps the later offspring—are seen as late as September. The old ones arrive in Egypt on their way south before the young birds, which are somewhat later; and in Berkshire the writer shot three young Cuckoos during the first week in August, a few years ago, out of a flock of birds on migration, which, like himself, had apparently taken shelter under a wood from an approaching thunderstorm. These specimens are now in the British Museum, and are of slightly different ages. The Cuckoo is a well-known bird at the Cape of Good Hope during the English winter, and specimens are in the national collection. It is much rarer on the west coast of Africa, but was shot by Governor Ussher near Cape Coast Castle, evidently on migration. The main route of the birds visiting the Cape in winter is, however, evidently down the Nile Valley and along the east coast to the Cape Colony and South Africa generally. A second line of migration extends to India, and it probably goes further, and has been found in the island of Celebes. In Asia, however, and Australia, there are several species of Cuckoo, very like the English bird, but smaller and differing in voice, which have not been sufficiently studied to enable one to say whether they are actually distinct or not.

The Cuckoo when adult is ashy-grey, with a white breast, barred across with narrow lines of greyish-black; the tail is long, barred with white on the outer feathers, and spotted with white on the centre ones; the bill is black, with a little yellow at the gape and at the base of the lower mandible; the feet and the eye are yellow; the length of the bird is about thirteen inches. The female is a trifle smaller, and has the chest slightly tinged with rufous. The young bird is quite different, being blackish, mottled with yellow and grey, and having a good deal of white about the hind neck. Rarely in England, but more often on the Continent, the Cuckoo is red instead of grey, and this is called the “hepatic” plumage. It is found also in Owls, Goatsuckers, and a few other birds, and exists in almost all the true Cuckoos.

These constitute a small family of Scansorial birds allied to the Cuckoos, and, like the latter, they are parasitic, and lay their eggs in other birds’ nests. Eleven species are known, of which eight are peculiar to Africa, one is found in the Himalaya Mountains, one in the Malayan Peninsula, and one in Borneo. The Asiatic members of the group are extremely rare, and our knowledge of the habits of these birds is derived from a study of the African species: so that it is not yet known whether the Asiatic Honey Guides deserve the name of Indicator, which is applied to the birds on account of their being “indicators,” or “pointers out,” of Bees’ nests containing honey. Dr. Kirk thus described their habits in the Zambesi district:—“The Honey Guide is found in forests, and often far from water, even during the dry season. On observing a man, it comes fluttering from branch to branch in the neighbouring trees, calling attention. If this be responded to—as the natives do by whistling and starting to their feet—the bird will go in a certain direction, and remain at a little distance, hopping from one tree to another. On being followed, it goes farther; and so it will guide the way to a nest of Bees. When this is reached, it flies about, but no longer guides; and then some knowledge is required to discover the nest, even when pointed out to within a few trees. I have known this bird, if the man, after taking up the direction for a little, then turns away, come back and offer to point out another nest in a different part. But if it does not know of two nests, it will remain behind. The difficulty is that it will point to tame Bees in a bark hive as readily as to those in the forest. This is natural, as the Bee is the same; the bark hive—‘Musinga,’ as it is named—being simply fastened up in a tree, and left for the Bees to come to. The object the bird has in view is clearly the young Bees. It will guide to nests having no honey, and seems equally delighted if the comb containing the grubs be torn out, when it is seen pecking at it.” Many of the natives of South Africa believe that the bird will occasionally guide the traveller, through sheer malice, to a Leopard or an Elephant; but on this point there seems some little doubt, to judge from a letter of Mrs. Barber, an accomplished lady and good observer in South Africa:—“What I wrote to you in a former letter is the opinion of many old bee-hunters in this part of the country, who have no faith in the popular belief that leading to the Leopard is done on purpose. My nine brothers, who were all brought up in this country, were all of them great hunters, as well as sportsmen; and during all the years of their experience, while they were living at Tharfield, where Bees’ nests were exceedingly plentiful, and where they were constantly in the habit of following these birds, never once did the Honey Guide ever lead them purposely to any noxious animal. Many times, in following the bird through dense woods, have they started various kinds of creatures; but if they did not neglect the bird for the purpose of hunting, she would continue her flight towards the Bees’ nest, regardless of the startled animals. One of my brothers once, while following a Honey Guide through a dense forest near the Kowie, passed directly through a drove of wild Pigs. They were, of course, more frightened than he was, and rushed about in every direction; but my brother knowing the popular belief, and wishing to test it, took not the slightest notice of the wild Pigs, but passed on, keeping his eye on the bird, who went steadily on her way, until she arrived at the nest she intended to show, regardless of the Pigs. I have other reasons for not believing the story. Why should the Honey Guide waste her time in leading people to Leopards, Jackals, Wolves, and so forth? These creatures are not her natural enemies; she would gain nothing by doing it—no advantage whatever; and I have ever found that in nature there is nothing done in vain, or in an empty, purposeless manner. There is always a reason for the peculiar habits and actions of birds and animals of all kinds; and therefore, why should a bird which does not even rear her own young, and has not the care of a nest, fear or care about these animals? Why should the Honey Guide, unlike all animals, do this thing without any reason for doing it? And again, when the bird has arrived at the nest she intends to show, there is an alteration in the notes of her voice. An old bee-hunter knows this in an instant, and knows when he ought to commence searching for the nest. Now, this alteration never takes place when animals of various kinds are startled in passing through the forest while following the bird. Hence I conclude that she does not intend to show where these creatures are, or the alteration in her voice would take place.” Some of the Indicators are not of the same use in guiding to Bees’ nests, and are consequently held in less repute. They are all birds of similar coloration, being generally of a dull grey, tinged with yellow or olive, and they vary considerably in size, the larger species, such as I. major and I. sparrmanni, measuring about eight inches in length; while the smallest species, I. exilis, from the Gaboon, does not exceed four inches. Although coming very close to the Cuckoos in the natural classification, the small bill, the thick-set, stout plumage, and the nine primaries in the wing, in addition to their peculiar habits, easily distinguish the Honey Guides as a separate family.

These may be called a strictly Ethiopian family of birds, every single member being found in Africa, and nowhere else. They have very much the appearance of game-birds, and are all remarkable for their beautiful crests, which they are able to elevate or depress at will. Although belonging to the Scansorial, or climbing birds, they do not always keep their toes in pairs, but being of a lively disposition they hop continually from bough to bough, and the outer toe is seen as often placed in front with the others as it is directed backwards along with the hind toe. With the exception of the Grey Plantain-eaters, all the other species have beautiful red primaries; and the writer was informed by the late African traveller, Jules Verreaux, that the bird often gets caught in violent showers during the rainy season, when the whole of this brilliant red colour in the wing-feathers gets washed out, and the quills become pinky-white, and after two or three days the colour is renewed, and the wing resumes its former beauty.

THE FIRST SUB-FAMILY OF THE MUSOPHAGIDÆ.—THE MUSOPHAGINÆ, OR TRUE PLANTAIN-EATERS.

THE WHITE-CRESTED PLANTAIN-EATER (Corythaix musophaga).

This is perhaps the best known of the whole family of these curious birds, being the commonest species in South Africa, where it is plentiful in the forest districts of the Knysna, and the south coast as far as Natal, and the wooded districts of the Eastern Transvaal. It is known by the name of the Louri, or Lory, and the following brief account of its habits is given by Mr. Layard:[251]—“The Plantain-eater feeds on fruits, and frequents the highest trees, rarely, if ever, descending to the ground, over which it can, however, travel with great rapidity if brought down by a shot. The motions of this species are very graceful and light, and performed with an ease and rapidity that delight the eye of the beholder. Strange to say, though we inquired carefully, we never could obtain any information respecting the nidification of this beautiful and common bird. Mr. Atmore, however, states that the eggs are white; but this must be from hearsay, as he writes: ‘How difficult it is to find these forest birds’ nests! The Lories are breeding now, but for the life of me I cannot find a nest. The young ones go in troops, and are delicious eating; the old ones in pairs. We never shoot specimens out of a troop except for the pot.’ An old forester told him that the eggs were white, both the latter and the nests being like those of Pigeons. Mr. Rickard says: ‘I once found an egg in a bird I shot at East London (January 27th); it was pure white, and the size of a tame Pigeon’s.’ Mr. Bowker writes: ‘I once found a Louri’s nest. It was just like a Dove’s, built of sticks laid horizontally, and about the size of a large dinner-plate, placed about ten feet from the ground in the centre of a round bush. The old bird flew out as I walked up. I found five young birds in the nest; they were almost full-grown, but their tails rather short and stumpy, crest just showing, but I cannot remember whether the red on the wing was showing or not. On my getting up to the nest they all flew out, and were killed by my Dogs before I could come to the rescue. The bush was twenty or thirty yards from the edge of a large forest, and I was rather surprised at this nest, as I had been told they built in hollow trees.’” In size this species is about nineteen inches long; the general colour is green, with a broad white tip to the feathers of the crest, the abdomen and vent are blackish, the quills brilliant carmine.

The false Touracoes, as Dr. Sclater calls them, do not possess the red colouring of the wings, but are for the most part of a uniform grey colour. The best known species is

THE GREY PLANTAIN-EATER (Schizorhis concolor).

This is also found in South Africa, but in different districts to the White-crested Plantain-eater. Where the range of the latter ceases that of the present bird begins, and it is found throughout the Matabele country and the Transvaal as far as the Zambesi, and westwards through Damara Land to Angola. Mr. Andersson writes:—“It is partial to localities abounding in large trees; and when prominently perched, with crest erect, it is not unlike a gigantic Coly. It also climbs and flies like the Colies, which it strongly resembles in its general habits. It is usually found in small flocks, and feeds on berries and seeds, especially those of mistletoe and of other parasitical plants, and also on fruits, young shoots, and insects. The Damaras call this species ‘Ongoro-oroquena,’ from the extraordinary and almost human cry with which it frequently startles the traveller who is passing near its perch. It is sometimes very easy to approach these birds, whilst at other times they are so shy that they will defy the utmost exertions which may be made to obtain them. On January 5th, 1867, I obtained three eggs of this species, of a dull bluish-white colour, at Omapja, from a boy, who told me that the nest which contained them was composed of sticks roughly put together, and situated in a tree at some distance from the ground; and on March 1st I met with a nest in Ondonga placed in a tree, but at no great elevation, which also contained three eggs, much incubated.” Dr. Exton, also, who has been through the Matabele country, writes as follows:—“In travelling through the Bechuana country one often comes upon a party of five or six of these birds, hiding from the mid-day heats under the sheltered portions of dense foliage near the centre of a large tree. Whilst yet undisturbed, the crest lies flat on the head, and can only be seen as a tuft projecting from the occiput. But their first act on becoming aware of an intruder is to run along the branches, either to the summit of the tree or to the extremity of a branch commanding a good look-out, where, with crest fully erected and well thrown forward, they keep up a constant reiteration of their note. If but little alarmed they move rapidly from branch to branch, frequently jerking up the crest, and assuming an attitude of attention. Again, after flight from one tree to another, on alighting, they first rest on a branch, with the body somewhat horizontal and the tail drawn nearly to the perpendicular, as if assuring themselves of their equilibrium, and then raising the body, elongating their neck, and at the same time elevating the crest, they seem to take an observation as to the security of their new position. So much is this a habit of the bird, that during the conversational difficulties of my earlier intercourse with the Bechuanas, when inquiring for the nest of Schizorhis (the native name of which is ‘Ma-quaai’), as soon as it dawned upon the mind of a native what bird I meant he has imitated its note, accompanied by a sudden jerking up of the hand, with his fingers extended to the utmost, as if at the same time to mimic the elevation of the crest. Dr. Sclater mentions that ‘Mr. J. J. Monteiro, speaking of the Grey False Touraco (S. concolor), as observed in Benguella, expressly states that the crest-feathers are always carried erect.’ In my own experience, the observation of Schizorhis was an every-day occurrence; and, as I have stated, when undisturbed (also when in flight) very little of the crest is to be seen, but is invariably carried erect on the least alarm. I may here mention a peculiar scream of S. concolor. I was one day walking along a low ridge of rocks, from which I flushed an Owl—the common Bubo maculosus—that flew to some distance to a clump of trees. Presently I heard an agonised scream, such as is made by a young Antelope when seized by a Dog; and so exact a repetition of the sound was it that even my Dogs were deceived by it, and rushed off in the direction whence it came. I also sent a Kaffir boy, and presently followed myself, when I discovered it was the frightful scream of Schizorhis, of which a party were collected round the Owl I had previously disturbed, and whose presence appeared to be the exciting cause. At a later period I had a second opportunity of verifying this observation.”

THE SECOND SUB-FAMILY OF THE MUSOPHAGIDÆ.—THE COLIINÆ, OR COLIES.

Like the foregoing sub-family, the Colies are confined to Africa. They have decided affinities with the true Plantain-eaters, but are distinguished at a glance by their long tails, the feathers of which are much pointed, and become smaller and narrower towards the outside of the tail. They are most dexterous climbers, as was well seen in the captive specimens of the Chestnut-backed Coly, which were brought by Cameron from Angola, and lived for some time in the London Zoological Gardens.

THE WHITE-BACKED COLY (Colius capensis).

The Colies are known in the Cape Colony by the name of Muisvogel, or Mouse-bird, and they are not uncommon, ranging about in small families of from six to eight individuals. Mr. Layard says that they fly with a rapid, though laboured flight, generally at a lower level than the object at which they aim, and on nearing the latter they rise upwards with a sudden, abrupt curve. They creep among the branches like Parrots, and hang suspended head downwards, without inconvenience; and it is said that they invariably sleep in this position, many of them congregated in a ball. The nest was found by Mr. Andersson in Damara Land, between September and December. It was placed in a small bush, and was composed externally of grass and twigs, lined internally with softer grass, and the eggs were dull white, and, according to his observations, always three in number. Mr. Andersson states that the bird “is gregarious in its habits, being found in flocks by day, and also when roosting at night. Its flight is short and feeble, seldom extending beyond the nearest bush or tree, on reaching which it usually perches on one of the lower branches, and then gradually glides and creeps upwards through the foliage, using both bill and feet for that purpose. It is essentially a fruit-eating bird, but I believe when hard pressed for its regular food it does not despise insects and the young shoots of plants. Its flesh is palatable.” The Colies as a rule are dull-coloured brown birds, but they have a long crest. The present species is perhaps the handsomest, being ash-coloured, and having the lower back and rump purple glossed with red, while a white line, bordered on each side by a broad black one, extends from beneath the shoulders to the rump. The bill is bluish-white, and the feet bright red. The length of the bird is thirteen or fourteen inches.

THE FIFTH FAMILY OF THE ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.—THE WOODPECKERS (PicidÆ).

These are perhaps the most typical of all the yoke-footed or climbing birds, as they are most expert climbers, being aided in the latter operation not only by their long toes, which are arranged as usual in this order in pairs, but by their stiffened tail, which enables them to climb with great rapidity up the perpendicular trunks of trees. If they wish to descend a little way they do not turn and come down head-foremost, as a Nuthatch would do, but they let themselves down by a few jerks, still keeping an oblique position, with the tail downwards. The bill in almost every member of the family is wedge-shaped, and very powerful, and with this organ a Woodpecker taps vigorously at the bark, which he sometimes also prises off to get at the grubs or insects underneath. These latter, as they endeavour to escape, have little chance against the intruder, who, in addition to the stout bill which discloses their place of concealment, possesses a peculiar tongue, which is capable of being protruded to a long distance, is furnished with minute barbs at the end, and is covered with a glutinous fluid from which the insects are unable to free themselves. The Woodpeckers nearly all procure their food in the above manner, but occasionally frequent the ground, and the Green Woodpecker (Gecinus[252] viridis) commits great ravages among ant-hills. The resting-place is generally a hole excavated by the bird itself in a hollow tree, and the eggs are white. Among the most aberrant of the Woodpecker family are the Wrynecks (Iÿnx[253]), of which one species is well known in England under the name of the “Cuckoo’s mate.” The Wrynecks are all birds of beautiful mottled plumage, and do not have a stiffened tail like a true Woodpecker. They are found in Europe, in India, North-Eastern and Southern Africa. Woodpeckers, on the other hand, are extremely plentiful in the New World, and are distributed all over Africa, Europe, and Asia, but are not found in the Australian region, no Woodpecker occurring beyond the Island of Celebes in the Moluccas.

One great peculiarity in the anatomy of the Woodpeckers is the structure of the tongue, and its relation to the hyoid bone and its horns, or cornua. (For a description of this part in the Mammalia, see Vol. I., p. 168.) In Birds the hyoid bone is a much more complex structure than in the Mammalia. Besides forming the basis of the otherwise mainly muscular substance of the tongue, it is continued backwards in most birds as a double chain of bones, each pair of which bears a separate name significant of its importance; and the whole is apparently quite distinct from the skull above and from the larynx below. Its composition in the common fowl is best rendered intelligible by reference to the accompanying woodcut (Fig. 1). It represents the entire hyoid apparatus divested of all muscular and other surrounding tissues. The upper part of the figure is that nearest to the tip of the tongue, and the references to the lettering become clear in the course of the subsequent description.

Another woodcut (Fig. 2) shows a side view of a dissection of the head of the common Green Woodpecker (Gecinus viridis), and a reference to the explanation of the lettering on it will give a general idea of the whole.

The tip of the tongue (t) is a slender, flattened, horny point, bearing on its sides and upper surface a number of very delicate bristles, or prickles, directed backwards, an arrangement eminently useful to the bird for enabling it to extract its insect food from the recesses to which its beak, by reason of its size and hardness, could not readily, nor with sufficient quickness, gain access. This tip is further rendered a more efficient instrument for this purpose by its being constantly moistened by a very viscid saliva secreted by two particularly large salivary glands (Figs. 2, 3, and 4, s.g.); and it was long ago remarked by Sir Charles Bell, in his essay on “The Hand” (Bridgewater Treatise, 1837), that the same muscles that effected the protrusion of the tongue exerted a simultaneous pressure upon these glands, so that the first result of the muscular contraction is to lubricate the tongue, while the rest of its force is spent in shooting it out with marvellous rapidity.

Behind this barbed and horny tip, the tongue is a slender worm-like body, of which the core is the anterior prolongation of the hyoid bone. The fore-part of this core, more like a bristle than a bone, is known to anatomists as the “glosso-hyal,” and it is immediately succeeded posteriorly by the “cerato-hyal.”[254] Behind this is the “basi-hyal ” (Fig. 1, b.h.), the last bone to enter into the formation of the tongue proper. From this basi-hyal springs the pair of bones—the “thyro-hyals”—which attain the remarkable degree of development for which the birds now under consideration are distinguished. From each side of the hinder portion, then, of this basi-hyal bone diverge these important “thyro-hyals” (Fig. 1, c.br., e.br.). They, in the Woodpeckers (compare Fig. 3, th.h.), extend outwards and backwards to pass one on each side of the neck until they curl upwards and forwards, converging to meet one another on the upper part of the back of the head; thence they run along together, ploughing themselves a furrow in the skull-top till they reach almost to the right nostril. Each of these curved and highly elastic bones is surrounded by a delicate sheath, whose inner surface is kept constantly moist and lubricated by its own secretion; and this sheath is attached to the bone of the skull at its junction with the upper mandible, as is shown in the accompanying woodcut (Fig. 3, i).

Enclosed in the sheath here spoken of, and along the concavity of each bone, is a muscle which has a fixed attachment to the crura of the lower mandible on each side (Fig. 4, e.m., e.m.). The contraction of this muscle shoots the tongue out in two different ways. In the Green Woodpecker the extremities of the thyro-hyal bones are themselves attached to the mandible, while the curvature of the bones makes a loop that hangs low down on each side of the neck (see Fig. 2, th.h.). As the muscle is shortened this loop is raised up, and the free tip of the tongue is consequently projected; and since the muscle is on the inner, or concave, side of the curve, a very small shortening on its part makes a great addition to the apparent length of the tongue. Sir Charles Bell elucidates this action by comparing the great effect on the curve of a fishing-rod’s flexible top that a small tightening of the line has. But while this is the case in many species, there are others in which the sheath alone is attached to the bones of the forehead, and the bones themselves slide along inside together with the contracting fibres of the muscle, thus producing the same result as was obtained in the other case by the loops hanging low down in the neck.

The tongue, whose length is thus so extraordinarily increased, is drawn back to its original position within the bill by another pair of muscles, one on each side, which are attached to the basi-hyal. These take their origin from the trachea, around which (as shown in Figs. 2 and 4, r.m.), in many species, they are curiously wound in their course. And, since the bones are at the point of their greatest curvature when at rest, it is obvious that this action of withdrawal is materially assisted by the elasticity of the prolongations of the hyoid bones themselves; for it is a well-known law that Nature never lets power run to waste, but always utilises forces of mere elasticity or rigidity when by their means the expenditure of nervous energy and muscular contractility can be saved.

It may be observed that this curious development of the bones of the tongue is not confined to the Woodpeckers; in the Sun Birds (NectariniidÆ) of the Old World, and the Humming-Birds (TrochilidÆ) of the New, this same adaptation of means to ends obtains. Even in the PicidÆ themselves many variations have been noticed, in addition to those above alluded to; for instance, in the Yellow-billed Woodpecker (Sphyrapicus[255] varius) of North America the horns of the hyoid do not reach so far as the eye, so that the tongue, with its bushy tip in this case, is only extensible in a very slight degree; while in the Hairy Woodpecker (Picus villosus) the thyro-hyals curve spirally over the right orbit so as to reach entirely around the eye, to be inserted at its lower posterior margin.

Considerable difference of opinion exists as to the damage done by Woodpeckers in tapping sound trees, and many a poor bird pays the penalty of his life for his supposed destructive propensities. Mr. Waterton argues strongly on the side of the bird, and alleges that only rotten and unsound trees are attacked for the sake of a nesting habitation, or for the purpose of getting insects; but that this is not always the case was proved by the writer himself in the spring of 1878, when a boy was sent up to a hole in a beech-tree in Avington Park, in Hampshire. The tree was still perfectly sound, so sound, indeed, that the bird had evidently given up the idea of inhabiting it for that year, and had betaken himself elsewhere, after having excavated a round hole to the depth of two or three inches. In the same tree, a little lower down, was a similar hole, evidently made the previous year, when the bird had “tapped” the tree, and it was clear that he had returned again in the succeeding season, and had tried a little higher up in the trunk, to see if there were any chance of procuring a domicile. This proceeding must have injured the tree, and was the work of a Green Woodpecker, or Yaffle, whose laughing note was heard from another quarter of the park, even as the above examination was being conducted. In this part of Hampshire, though the bird is not persecuted by the owner of Avington, Mr. Edward Shelley, or by his keepers, the Green Woodpecker is rare; but in certain parts of Huntingdonshire the writer can remember to have found it very plentiful in his school-days, and it was a never-failing object in a country walk, flitting from tree to tree in front of the observer, and always keeping a sharp look-out from the opposite side of the trunk on which he settled. This species appears in old pieces of poetry under the various names of Yaffle, Woodwele, or Woodwale, Whetile, and it is in some places called “Hewhole,” Woodhacker, &c.[256]:—

Some Woodpeckers seem to make storehouses against the winter, by pecking holes in a tree, and an interesting example of a piece of bark, in which a Red-headed Woodpecker (Melanerpes formicivorus)[257] had placed a store of acorns, is to be seen in the British Museum.

Another British species, the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker (Picus[258] minor), is a bird of different habits, frequenting fruit-gardens in the autumn, and doing very little damage to trees in the nesting season. It generally selects the rotten branch of an old poplar-tree, and hollows out a hole in so perilous a situation that it is difficult to climb to, and, indeed, the whole bough is often brought down by the first gale in the ensuing winter. Here its small wedge-shaped bill speedily makes an excavation, and at some little distance down in the hollow interior it lays its glossy white eggs on the touchwood and decaying wood. Both sexes assist in the preparation of the nest; and in mild winters they sometimes begin with the commencement of the year to look out for their future home. The selection of this appears to be a matter of no small anxiety, for several trees are examined in turn, and often at long distances apart. The birds at the time of incubation keep up a continual signalling one to the other, which is produced by a rapid whining noise caused by tapping on the thinner branches of the dead trees. This call-note, if it may be called such, is generally heard in the early morning, and ceases as soon as the nesting operations have finally commenced. Besides this note, they have also one like the “laugh” of the Green Woodpecker, but, of course, much reduced in accordance with the difference in the size of the two birds. The little Spotted Woodpecker may often be seen hanging on to, and climbing round, the slender twigs of the outer branches of a tree, and looks much like a Creeper or a Nuthatch, which it does not greatly exceed in dimensions.

The Toucans, with their clumsy bills, have much the aspect of Hornbills, which they may be said to represent in South America, to which continent they are entirely confined, but by this time the student knows that they have really little to do with each other, beyond a certain outward similarity, as the Toucans belong to the Scansorial, the Hornbills to the Fissirostral, section of the PicariÆ. It is not possible to give a long account of the habits of individual species of Toucans, and a general sketch of their manners and customs is extracted from the monograph of the Toucans written by Mr. John Gould.[260] To him the late Prince Maximilian, of Neuwied, an excellent observer, during his travels in South America writes:—“The RhamphastidÆ are very common in all parts of the extensive forests of the Brazils, and are killed in great numbers at the cooler portion of the year, for the purposes of the table. To the stranger they are of even greater interest than to the natives, from their remarkable form, and from the rich and strongly-contrasted style of their colouring, their black or green bodies being adorned with markings of the most brilliant hues—red, orange, blue and white—the naked parts of the body dyed with brilliant colours, the legs blue or green, the irides blue, yellow, &c., and the large bill of a different colour in every species, and in many instances very gaily marked. The colouring of the soft parts is, however, so evanescent, that, to determine the species with accuracy, they must be depicted during life or immediately after the birds are killed. Common as these birds are in their native wilds, it is exceedingly difficult to detect their breeding-places; it is certain that they deposit their eggs in the hollow limbs and holes of the colossal trees so abundant in the tropical forests, but I never was so fortunate as to discover them. The stomachs of the specimens I examined contained nothing but the remains of fruits, principally of the softer kinds, for which, indeed, they have such a liking that they resort in great numbers to the plantations in the vicinity of their native haunts, and commit sad havoc among their favourite delicacies. I was informed that they frequently steal and eat young birds, but no instance of their doing so came under my own observation, and I never detected the remains of animal food in their stomachs. Mr. Waterton’s opinion agrees with mine, that they feed solely upon fruits; but Azara, among others, states that they also feed upon animal substances. The specimens we saw in a state of domestication were very voracious and perfectly omnivorous, but they seem to be purely frugivorous in a state of nature, a fact which was, indeed, confirmed by the Brazilian natives whom we questioned on the subject. In their manners the RhamphastidÆ offer some resemblance to the Crows, and especially to the Magpies; like them they are very troublesome to the birds of prey, particularly to the Owls, whom they surround and annoy by making a great noise, all the while jerking their tails upwards and downwards. The flight of these birds is easy and graceful, and they sweep with facility over the loftiest trees of their native forests, their strangely-developed bills, contrary to expectation, being no encumbrance to them. The voice of the Toucans is short and unmelodious, and is somewhat different in every species. The feathers are used by the Indians for personal decoration, especially the yellow breasts of the birds, which they affix to their heads on each side near the temple, and also to the ends of their bows.”

Mr. Waterton, in one of his Essays, has the following remarks:—“There are three species of Toucan in Demerara, and three diminutives, which may be called Toucanets. The largest of the former frequents the mangrove-trees on the sea-coast. It is never seen in the interior until you reach Macoushia, where it is found in the neighbourhood of the river Tacatou; the other two species are very common. They feed entirely on the fruits of the forest, and, though of the Pie kind, never kill the young of other birds or eat carrion. The larger is called Bouradi by the Indians (which means nose), the other Scirou. They seem partial to each other’s company, and often resort to the same feeding tree, and retire to the same shady noon-day retreat. They are very noisy in rainy weather at all hours of the day, and in fair weather at morn and eve. The sound the Bouradi makes is like the clear yelping of a puppy-dog, and you fancy he says ‘Pia-po-o-co,’ and thus the South American Spaniards call him Piapoco. All the Toucanets feed on the same trees on which the Toucan feeds, and every species of this family of enormous bill lays its eggs in the hollow trees. They are social, but not gregarious. You may sometimes see eight or ten in company, and from this you may suppose they are gregarious, but upon a closer examination you find it is only a dinner party, which breaks up and disperses towards roosting-time. You will be at a loss to conjecture for what end Nature has overloaded the head of this bird with such an enormous bill. It cannot be for the offensive, as it has no need to wage war with any of the tribes of animated nature, for its food is fruits and seed, and those are in superabundance throughout the whole year in the regions where the Toucan is found. It cannot be for the defensive, as the Toucan is preyed upon by no bird in South America, and, were it obliged to be at war, the texture of the bill is ill-adapted to give or receive blows, as you will see by dissecting it. The flight of the Toucan is by jerks. In the action of flying it seems incommoded by this huge, disproportionate feature, and the head seems as if bowed down to the earth by it against its will. If the extraordinary size and form of the bill expose the Toucan to ridicule, its colours make it amends. Were a specimen of each species of Toucan presented to you, you would pronounce the bill of the Bouradi the most rich and beautiful one. It is worthy of remark that all these brilliant colours of the bill are to be found in the plumage of the body and the bare skin around the eye.” Space will not permit of a long extract from the works of d’Azara (the only field naturalist of any fame that Portugal has yet produced), but a few notes of this traveller, made in Paraguay, differ from the foregoing accounts, and show that in the southern portion of their range the habits of some of the Toucans vary to a great extent. So voracious does d’Azara consider them, that on this account he places them among the birds of prey, and writes:—“The Toucans, contrary to all appearances, destroy a great number of birds, and, on account of their long and strong beak, are respected and feared by all species. They attack and drive them from their nests, and in their very presence eat their eggs and young; these they draw from the holes with the long beak, or throw down nest and all together. It is credibly reported that the Toucans do not even respect the eggs or young of the ‘Aras’ (Macaws) and Caracaras, and if the fledglings are too large or too strong to be lifted from the nest, they dash them to the ground, as if it were their nature not only to devour, but to uselessly destroy. The bird, in flying, presents the point of his bill against the wind, so that it does not offer more resistance than that of other birds in which the head and superficies are equal in extent; besides which, the conformation and specific lightness of this long beak cannot impede flight, because the highest points of the bird being the bill itself and the anterior portion of the body, they form no obstacle, the wind first taking effect upon the point of the bill. When in a state of repose, the Toucan carries its bill rather more elevated than a horizontal line that would pass through the eyes, and when closely looked at, it looks like a false bill, because its base exceeds the breadth of the head, which presents the appearance of being enclosed in a case. In addition to these singularities, the nostrils are placed behind the aforesaid base. The tongue is very narrow and of an equal thickness throughout. It is entirely osseous, and resembles somewhat a feather two lines in width, furnished with an osseous fringe, which is directed from behind forwards, so that the tongue, stiff and unyielding, takes no part in the direction of the food nor in the formation of the note, which, in the first two Paraguayan species, is confined to the single syllable ‘rae.’ The mandibles are very distinctly dentated at their edges, these dentations not corresponding at all above and below, nor are they even relatively symmetrical. The beak itself is a thin osseous sheath, filled with a number of empty cellules. The eye is large, and surrounded by a triangular naked space, puffed up, and very pretty. The foot is very short and stout, and covered nearly to the heel with long scales, harsh to the touch. The outer toe, as well before as behind, is the longest. The claws are much flattened and curved, as in the Woodpeckers. The tail is composed of ten feathers. The Toucan flies at a moderate height, and in a straight horizontal line, flapping its wings occasionally with some noise. The flight is quicker than the smallness of the wings would lead one to believe. It perches towards the top of the highest trees, and though unable to climb after the manner of Woodpeckers, it still progresses with speed, hopping from branch to branch. It pays great attention to all that takes place in its vicinity, advancing with fear and diffidence, like the ‘Uruca’ and the ‘Acahes.’ There is no perceptible difference between the two sexes, nor do I believe that the species exists towards the south beyond 28°, nor that it drinks. It rarely settles on the ground. The Toucan hops obliquely and very awkwardly, with the legs separated about a hand’s breadth. When it takes young birds from the nest, pieces of meat or fruit, it throws them in the air, as a juggler his balls, and by a quick movement of the beak repeats this action until the food is in a favourable position for being swallowed, and then by another movement gulps it down its large throat. If the mouthful be larger than the orifice of the gullet, the Toucan abandons it without seeking to divide it.”

Mr. Bates, in his “Naturalist on the River Amazon,” makes some further allusions to the Toucans and their bill, which will be found well worth the reading. He also gives the following history of a tame bird (Vol. ii., p. 341):—“One day, whilst walking along the principal pathway in the woods near Ega, I saw one of these Toucans seated gravely on a low branch close to the road, and had no difficulty in seizing it with my hand. It turned out to be a runaway pet bird; no one, however, came to own it, although I kept it in my house for several months. The bird was in a half-starved and sickly condition, but after a few days of good living it recovered health and spirits, and became one of the most amusing pets imaginable. Many excellent accounts of the habits of tame Toucans have been published, and therefore I need not describe them in detail; but I do not recollect to have seen any notice of their intelligence and confiding disposition under domestication, in which qualities my pet seemed to be almost equal to Parrots. I allowed TocÁno to go free about the house, contrary to my usual practice with pet animals. He never, however, mounted my working-table after a smart correction, which he received the first time he did so. He used to sleep on the top of a box in a corner of the room, in the usual position of these birds—namely, with the long tail laid right over on the back and the beak thrust underneath the wing. He ate of everything that we eat (beef, turtle, fish, farina, fruit), and was a constant attendant at our table—a cloth spread on a mat. His appetite was most ravenous, and his powers of digestion quite wonderful. He got to know the meal-hours to a nicety, and we found it very difficult, after the first week or two, to keep him away from the dining-room, where he had become very impudent and troublesome. We tried to shut him out by enclosing him in the back yard, which was separated by a high fence from the street on which our front door opened; but he used to climb the fence and hop round by a long circuit to the dining-room, making his appearance with the greatest punctuality as the meal was placed on the table. He acquired the habit afterwards of rambling about the street near our house, and one day he was stolen, so we gave him up for lost. But two days afterwards he stepped through the open doorway at dinner-hour, with his old gait, and sly, magpie-like expression, having escaped from the house where he had been guarded by the person who had stolen him, which was situated at the farther end of the village.”

These are climbing birds of somewhat brilliant coloration, distributed over the tropical portions of both hemispheres, but absent in Europe, Northern Asia, Australia, and the Moluccas southwards from the Sunda Islands. “Though strictly arboreal in their habits,” write Messrs. Marshall, in their exhaustive work on the family,[262] “and living only in forest districts or open countries interspersed with groves of trees, they are neither shy nor difficult to approach. When the districts in which they are found happen to be at all thickly populated, the Barbets show no disposition to retreat to more secluded quarters, but take up their abode in gardens, and frequently breed in trees close to the houses. They usually keep to the tops of the trees, but may occasionally be seen creeping among the branches of small bushes and underwood. Their food is fruit, seeds, buds, and occasionally insects; these latter are very seldom resorted to in Asia, more frequently in Africa, and with some American species they form the staple food. They are not gregarious, though a great number may sometimes be seen together in a fig-tree at the fruit season. They live in pairs during the breeding season, which is in the spring, and commence moulting in September. They rarely, if ever, descend to the ground, and appear to move from tree to tree only when compelled to do so in search of food, or when disturbed by an intruder. Their flight is powerful, but heavy and undulating, like that of a Woodpecker. A curious instance of their disinclination to travel is seen in the fact of the Himalayan Lineated Barbet (MegalÆma hodgsoni) and the Hoary Jungle Barbet (M. caniceps) never crossing the narrow valley of the Deyra Doon, though both are abundant in their respective boundaries; also that the Blue-faced Barbet (M. asiatica) is confined to the valley of the Jumna, in the district between Mussooree and Simla, though there are many other valleys apparently equally suitable. When not in pursuit of food, the Barbets sit motionless among the foliage near the tops of the trees, and exhibit none of that vivacity which is so marked a characteristic of the Passerine birds, amongst which they have been sometimes erroneously classed. Their voice is loud and ringing, consisting almost always of one, two, or three syllables, given out with extraordinary power, and may be heard at midday or on a moonlight night when all other sounds are hushed. Some of the American species have, in common with the Toucans, the habit of jerking their tail up over their back when they utter their call. The male and female sometimes keep up what appears to be a ‘calling-match’ for about ten minutes, and then suddenly cease. As far as is known, they all build in holes of trees, which they make for themselves in soft or decayed branches. No lining is needed for the nest, a few of the broken chips being left at the bottom of a hole. The entrance is circular and neatly bevelled, resembling that of a Woodpecker. The hole is generally about eight or ten inches deep, varying, of course, with the size of the bird. They lay three or four shining white eggs, with rather thin shells, and rather elongated, blunt, oval in shape, both ends being nearly similar. They are laid in the latter end of April and beginning of May in Northern India. Barbets are occasionally caged, but they are very seldom brought to England, and do not bear confinement very well; consequently, little is known of them in this country, except to ornithologists. An interesting account of one of them (MegalÆma zeylanica) in captivity, by Mr. Layard, will be found quoted below. Their plumage, though very brilliant, is tasteless and too gaudy, and their shape is heavy and ugly, which will account for their skins not yet having been promoted to the positions with which pretty birds’ feathers are generally associated in the minds of the non-ornithological public.” Mr. Layard’s account is as follows:—“The Brown-headed Barbet is common in Ceylon, and universally distributed. It feeds on fruits and berries of all kinds, which it swallows entire. It does not, that I know of, devour small birds when in a state of nature, but one kept in a large aviary at Colombo destroyed all the little AmadinÆ placed with it. Not content with snapping them up when within his reach, he would lie in wait for them behind a thick bush or the feeding-trough, pounce upon them unawares, and, after beating them a little on the ground or perch, swallow them whole. When this cannibal came into my possession he was confined in a smaller cage than that in which he had at first been secured. This seemed to displease him, and he went to work to find some means of escape. He narrowly examined every side and corner to discover a weak spot, and having detected one, applied himself vigorously to bore a hole through it, as a Woodpecker would have done. Grasping the bars with his feet, he swung himself round, bringing his whole weight to bear upon his bill, which he used as a pickaxe, till the house resounded with his rapid and well-aimed blows. On being checked from exercising his ingenuity in this manner, he became sulky, and refused to eat or offer his call of recognition when I approached him. In a day or two, however, he apparently thought better of the matter, resumed his labours upon another spot, and fed as voraciously as ever, devouring huge slices of bananas, jungle fruits, the bodies of any small birds I skinned, &c.”

THE SECOND ORDER.—PICARIAN BIRDS. SUB-ORDER II.—FISSIROSTRES.

CHAPTER IX.
THE JACAMARS, PUFF BIRDS, KINGFISHERS, HORNBILLS, AND HOOPOES.

THE FIRST FAMILY OF THE FISSIROSTRAL PICARIAN BIRDS.
THE JACAMARS (GalbulidÆ).[263]

THESE birds are usually of metallic green plumage, with long beaks and wedge-shaped tails, and are found only in Central and Southern America, where they seem to represent the Bee-eaters of the Old World. Not many notices have appeared of their habits, the best being that given by Mr. Waterton, in his “Wanderings” in Demerara:—“A bird called Jacamar is often taken for a Kingfisher, but it has no relationship to that tribe: it frequently sits in the trees over the water, and as its beak bears some resemblance to that of the Kingfisher, this may probably account for its being taken for one. It feeds entirely upon insects. It sits on a branch in motionless expectation, and as soon as a Fly, Butterfly, or Moth passes by, it darts at it, and returns to the branch it had just left. It seems an indolent, sedentary bird, shunning the society of all others in the forest. It never visits the plantations, but is found at all times of the year in the woods. There are four species of Jacamar in Demerara; they are all beautiful, the largest rich and superb in the extreme. Its plumage is of so fine a changing blue and golden green, that it may be ranked with the choicest of the Humming Birds. Nature has denied it a song, but given a costly garment in lieu of it. The smallest species of Jacamar is very common in the dry savannas. The second size, all golden green in the back, must be looked for in the Wallaba Forest; the third is found throughout the whole extent of these wilds; and the fourth, which is the largest, frequents the interior, where you begin to perceive stones in the ground.”

THE SECOND FAMILY OF THE FISSIROSTRAL PICARIAN BIRDS.
THE PUFF BIRDS (BucconidÆ).

In general form the Puff Birds are not unlike Kingfishers, some of which they resemble in their habits, feeding chiefly on insects, which they catch in the air. In many respects also they resemble the Bee-eaters (MeropidÆ), and may be considered as representing the last-named family in South and Central America, to which countries they are entirely confined. Of the Long-winged Puff Birds (Chelidoptera tenebrosa) the late Prince Maximilian of Neuwied gives the following account:—“It is not rare in most provinces of South Brazil, and very common in many of them. It is found in certain spots sitting still and immovable upon the high isolated branches of the forest trees. From time to time it flies after an insect in the air, and falls back again to its place like a true Fly-catcher. It is a stupid, still, melancholy bird, but likes to sit high, and not low and near the ground, like other Puff Birds. As in form and colour it rather resembles a Swallow, the Brazilians call it Andurinha do mato (Wood Swallow). The resemblance is greatest when the bird sits upon the ground, for its feet are little adapted for walking, and it consequently shuffles along as a Swallow does. Its flight is light and undulating. Sitting upon a high point, whence it can overlook the neighbourhood, it often emits a short call-note. It is anything but timid, and very easy to shoot. It is usually found where the woods are varied with open country, on the edges of the woods, but likewise in the interior of them. The food of these birds consists of insects, of which I have found the remains in their stomachs. On the Rio Grande del Belmonte I observed how these birds nest. In the month of August I saw them enter a round hole in a perpendicular sand-bank on the river, like a Kingfisher’s. After digging about two feet in a horizontal direction, we found two milk-white eggs upon a bad lining of a few feathers.”[264]

The Kingfishers are a very varied family, including within their limits birds of very different form and habits. The bill is always long and powerful for the size of the bird, producing, in some of the smaller species, a top-heavy and ungainly aspect; but this organ is modified according to the habits of the birds, and is strictly in accordance with the functions which it has to perform. The foot is similar in all Kingfishers, the sole being very flat, and the toes joined together for the greater part of their length, so that the birds always have a very firm support to their bodies. The legs are very short and weak, the wings powerful, and the gape very wide. The Kingfishers may be divided into two sub-families, distinguished by the form of the bill, which is long and compressed in the fish-eating Kingfishers (AlcedininÆ), of which the European bird is a type, with a distinct ridge or keel along the upper mandible; while in the DaceloninÆ, which have a stouter and flatter bill, with a smooth and rounded culmen, the food is varied, consisting more of insects than of fish.

THE COMMON KINGFISHER (Alcedo[265] ispida).

This is, perhaps, the most brilliantly-coloured bird there is in England, but by reason of its shy habits and wonderfully quick flight it is not often observed, excepting as a flash of bright blue on the river side, appearing for an instant and gone the next. It is, however, by no means uncommon in many of the rivers in the south of England, particularly during the month of October, when a partial migration of the species evidently takes place. At this season of the year, the writer once observed a Kingfisher on the ornamental water in St. James’s Park. Beyond the British Islands it is found in most parts of the European continent, being replaced in the East by the little Indian Kingfisher (A. bengalensis), a miniature of the English bird, but with a much longer bill. The following account of the habits of this bird, the result of several years’ close acquaintance with the species on the river Thames, is taken from the author’s work on this subject[266]:—“When in a wild state, flying along the banks of a stream, or sitting patiently at watch for its finny prey, the Kingfisher is a beautiful sight. Often has it been our good fortune to witness the bird at close quarters, but this is by no means easy to accomplish, owing to the extreme wariness of the bird from repeated persecution. The presence of the Kingfisher in one’s neighbourhood can be detected from some distance by the faint cry which falls upon the ear from afar. This note, which is a shrill, but not unmusical, scream, generally consists of two syllables, but is very difficult to render in language. Naumann gives it as ti-ti, which is by no means a bad representation of the cry; and these syllables are quickly repeated as the bird leaves its perch and skims over the stream. The flight is rapid and very direct, the bird speeding like a bullet a little height above the surface of the water. When suddenly disturbed, it utters its cry shortly after leaving its perch, and then flies for some distance in silence; but when passing unmolested from one resting-place to another, its shrill note may be heard at frequent intervals. Just before perching, the cry is uttered three or four times successively—ti-ti-ti. When resting, it sits uprightly, with the glance directed downwards, motionlessly scanning the stream beneath, intent on the capture of any fish or water insect which may come within its reach. Its unerring dive seldom proves fruitless; and when secured, a few smart raps on its perch, to which the bird always returns, deprive the victim of life, after which it is immediately swallowed. Except in the early morning, it seldom chooses a very open position for its resting-place; but in the autumn, when the migration is in progress, at break of day it is not unusual to see two, or even three, birds in company on a rail or on the side of a punt; in the day-time, however, it loves solitude, and seldom more than one can be seen at once, and then it affects more shady and secluded haunts. In general it is a lonely bird, jealous of intrusion, especially from individuals of its own species. Each pair appears to choose and maintain a particular hunting-ground, and should one Kingfisher enter upon the domain of another, it is speedily and effectually ousted by the rightful owner with cries of rage. So fierce is the animosity displayed by these birds, that when excited in combat they fly heedless of obstacles, and thus occasionally meet their death in their headlong career.” An instance is on record of two Kingfishers flying with such violence against a window that both pursuer and pursued met their death on the spot. The present species does not always pounce on its prey from a perch, but will occasionally fly out over the mid-stream, and hover in the air like a Kestrel Hawk; and after making an unsuccessful plunge, will repeat its hovering position over the same spot, until its efforts are rewarded with success. It has been seen also to dash into the water several times in succession, which movement has been supposed to be for the purpose of attracting fish to the spot by disturbing the water; it is, however, more probable that in this exercise the bird is taking a bath. The young have exactly the same cry as their parents, but the note is less shrill. On leaving the nest, they often congregate in some well-shaded locality by the side of the stream, where food is brought to them by their parents, and the presence of the nestlings is often betrayed by their shrill pipings. The bill in the young birds is very short, and has a little white tip to it; in the adult male it is entirely black; but the female may always be distinguished by the base of the lower mandible being red.

That the Kingfisher makes its own hole is now an ascertained fact, and the following note on the subject was published in 1866 by Mr. G. Dawson Rowley:—“Though the subject of the Kingfisher (Alcedo ispida) is somewhat stale, yet, in consequence of the remarks which I have just read in the October Quarterly on ‘Homes without Hands,’ I send you the following notes, made this spring, in order to set at rest, if possible, a mistake regarding the breeding of this bird. Modern writers on the Kingfisher are hardly more free from error than even Ovid or Pliny. The bird is a true miner, and makes a nest of fish-bones; but, as no rule is without an exception, when it cannot find a suitable bank to bore in, it has been known to nidificate in abnormal situations; and when abundance of proper fish are not to be caught it is obliged to do without bones.

“From many years’ constant watching, I can exactly tell the probable position of the hole, and the day it will be begun. Accordingly, on Thursday, March 29, I sent two witnesses to a particular spot on the River Ouse, St. Neots, Huntingdonshire. They observed that there was on that day positively no hole of any kind, no vestige of hole, in that bank. On Easter Monday, April 2, I sent a keeper to the place. He reported the hole as begun. On the same day I went in a boat, and, putting a reed up, found it by actual measurement about fifteen inches deep, the moulds being quite fresh outside. Droppings of the bird (which was seen constantly leaving the hole) were visible in two places. There was also a shallow hole a little to the left of the above-mentioned one. This was a failure—either from caprice or some other cause abandoned. We observe the same in Woodpeckers, which will sometimes bore in three or four places before they get one to their liking, a circumstance I particularly remarked in a pair of the Greater Spotted Woodpeckers (P. major) last spring. Between March 29 and April 2 the Kingfisher had made two holes. I thought it best now to leave the place, only receiving from the keeper each morning a report, as he went by in his boat, how the bird was going on.

“Saturday, April 7, I made a memorandum: ‘I again observe fresh moulds, but not, as we consider, to-day’s, but yesterday’s: hence I suppose the hole to be nearly finished, if not quite.’ Here, I should say, after taking these nests constantly for nearly thirty years, I find twenty-one days is the correct time, from the commencement of the excavation to the end of laying seven eggs. I never had the luck to find eight; Mr. Gould, however, informs me he once did. ‘Saturday, April 21. Opened the hole situated in the perpendicular bank to keep off Water-rats. Found by measurement the entrance was twelve inches from the surface of the ground, and about five feet from the water. The length of the ascending gallery was eight inches and a half, and the oval chamber six inches in diameter more. The top of the chamber was nine inches from the surface of the ground. It contained the usual nest of fish-bones, which was one inch and a half deep; and the same, with the seven fresh eggs, are now before me, with two other nests from the same locality. The bird flew off after the first dig, which I commonly made so as to cover up the hole again without disturbance if the full number of eggs had not been laid. There was no excrement in the chamber, but much just outside in the gallery.’ The size of the chamber is just sufficient for the owners to turn round pleasantly. When the young birds, which I have seen in every stage, have been some time in the nest, of course the hole gets very foul. Here, then, is a case, capable of being attested by two or three witnesses step by step—and concerning which there can be no doubt—where the Kingfisher is proved to have made its own hole. I have known it when driven from one bank by floods to revert to an old hole of its own making in the previous year; but never has there been an instance of its taking up with the abode of its most deadly enemy, the Water-rat. It is hard to prove a negative, but it is certainly a most unlikely thing for a Kingfisher to enter a rat-hole. No one who has seen the eggs of this species in situ as often as I have can deny that the fish-bones are placed with the design of making a nest.”

In the British Museum may be seen a nest of the Kingfisher, which was taken by Mr. Gould under the following circumstances:—“On the 18th of April, 1859, during one of my fishing excursions on the Thames, I saw a hole in a precipitous bank, which I felt assured was the nesting-place of a Kingfisher; and on passing a spare top of my fly rod to the extremity, a distance of nearly three feet, I brought out some freshly-cast bones of fish, convincing me that I was right in my surmise. The day following I again visited the spot with a spade, and, after removing nearly two feet square of the turf, dug down to the nest without disturbing the passage which led to it. Here I found four eggs placed on the usual layer of fish-bones. These I removed with care, and then replaced the earth, beating it down as hard as the bank itself, and restored the turfy sod. A fortnight after the bird was seen to leave the hole again, and my suspicions were aroused that she had taken to her old breeding quarters a second time. I again visited the place on the twenty-first day from the date of my former exploration, and upon passing the top of my fly rod up the hole, found, not only that it was of the former length, but that the female was within. I then took a large mass of cotton-wool from my collecting-box, and stuffed it to the extremity, in order to preserve the eggs from damage during my again laying it open from above. On removing the sod and digging down as before, I came to the cotton-wool, and beneath it was formed a nest of fish-bones the size of a small saucer, the walls of which were fully half an inch thick, together with eight translucent pinky-white eggs, and the old female herself. This nest I removed with the greatest care; and it is now deposited in the proper place for so interesting an object—the British Museum. This mass of bones, then weighing 700 grains, had been cast up and deposited by the bird and its mate in the short space of twenty-one days. Ornithologists are divided in opinion as to whether the fish-bones are to be considered in the light of a nest. Some are disposed to believe them to be the castings and fÆces of the young brood of the year, and that the same hole being frequented for a succession of years, a great mass is at length formed; while others suppose that they are deposited by the parents as a platform for the eggs, constituting, in fact, a nest; and I think, from what I have adduced, we may fairly conclude this is the case: in fact, nothing could be better adapted to defend the eggs from the damp earth.” In ancient times there was a legend that when the Kingfishers made their nests—which were supposed to float upon the top of the sea—fine weather was always allowed to prevail.[267] A custom used formerly to be in vogue in England of turning a Kingfisher into a weathercock; and, according to the late M. Jules Verreaux, this practice is pursued in France even in the present day, where the bird is mummified and suspended by a thread with extended wings in order to show the direction of the wind. Mr. Harting alludes to these superstitions in his “Ornithology of Shakespeare” (p. 275). It was formerly believed that during the time the Halcyon, or Kingfisher, was engaged in hatching her eggs, the water, in kindness to her, remained so smooth and calm that the mariner might venture on the sea with the happy certainty of not being exposed to storms or tempests; this period was therefore called, by Pliny and Aristotle, “the halcyon days.”

It was also supposed that the dead bird, carefully balanced and suspended by a single thread, would always turn its beak towards that point of the compass from which the wind blew. Kent, in King Lear (Act ii. sc. 2), speaks of rogues who—

And, after Shakspere, Marlowe, in his Jew of Malta, says:—

The Common Kingfisher measures about seven inches from the tip of his bill to the end of his tail. The colour of the upper parts is blue, greener on the mantle and scapulars, and beautiful rich cobalt on the back, rump, and upper tail-coverts; the head is blue, barred with black, the wings blue, with spots of brighter cobalt on the coverts; in front of the eye is a spot of rufous, this being also the colour of the eye-coverts and under parts; the throat is white, and there is a patch of white on each side of the neck; the cheeks and sides of the breast are blue, the bill is black, the feet red. The female is coloured like the male, but can always be told by the red colour at the base of the under mandible. This is also present in young birds of both sexes, but the latter can readily be distinguished by their shorter bills.

Species of the genus Alcedo are distributed over the greater part of the Old World, extending even into the Molucca Islands, but in Australia and the Papuan group they are represented by the genus Alcyone, comprising Kingfishers of similar form to the English bird, but distinguished by the absence of the inner toe. In Africa and Madagascar some beautiful little crested Kingfishers (Corythornis) are met with, the largest of which scarcely exceeds five inches in length. A very familiar species on the banks of the Nile is the Pied Kingfisher (Ceryle[268] rudis), one of the commonest birds in Africa and India, and of this species Dr. von Heuglin writes[269]:—“It lives in pairs, is sociable, and, except during the breeding season, more friendly with members of its own species than other Kingfishers, and often several pairs dwell in the same neighbourhood. It sits and watches along the shore on overhanging branches, on roofs, walls, brickets, rocks, and even on the ground, but seldom pounces from the latter on its prey. From time to time it takes a flight over shallow clear water, also right across the river or from one island to another, sometimes very low, generally, however, several fathoms above the surface. Its flight is not very swift, but straight, and steadied by quick, fluttering motions of the wing—not rushing, like that of Alcedo ispida—and it rises and falls according to will and with great agility. One often sees it, after taking a start by several quick flaps of the wing, and gliding on for a distance, suddenly, with one quick movement, alter the direction of the flight and suddenly stop and hover. When hovering, the bill is held straight down, and the hind part of the body and tail also rather lowered. Directly it catches sight of its scaly prey it turns up, lays its feathers close to the body, and drops like a stone into the water, remaining often over ten seconds below the surface. It seldom misses its mark, and devours the fish it has captured either on the wing or at one of its resting-places. The voice is a shrill whistle, at the same time chirpy, or at times snickery. During the pairing time the males often fight on the wing, and roll together, calling loudly, nearly to the surface of the water. In Egypt the breeding season is our spring; according to Adams, as early as December. The nest, consisting of a small heap of clean dry grass, is placed in a horizontal hole about arm’s depth in a steep bank, and contains four to six pure white roundish eggs, the shell of which is rather rough compared with that of Alcedo ispida. Often several nest-holes are close together. The plumage of the young much resembles that of the adult. There is scarcely any bird on the Nile tamer than the Black and White Kingfisher.” The genus Ceryle, to which the foregoing species belongs, is largely represented in the New World, one of the best known being the Belted Kingfisher of North America, and an unusual circumstance in fish-eating Kingfishers is characteristic of the genus, viz., a difference in the colouring of the sexes. The Stork-billed Kingfishers (Pelargopsis[270]) are the most powerful members of the sub-family, some of them measuring nearly a foot and a half in length.

More difference in form and size is perceptible in the omnivorous Kingfishers (DaceloninÆ), where some of the little three-toed species of Ceyx do not exceed five inches in length, whereas the Great Laughing Jackasses of Australia (Dacelo) attain the dimensions of more than a foot and a half. The smaller birds of this section feed almost entirely on insects, and the Rose-cheeked Kingfisher of Africa (Ispidina[271] picta) feeds principally on Grasshoppers and small Locusts, while its representative in Natal (I. natalensis) is said to feed entirely on Butterflies and insects caught on the wing. They are often found along the banks of rivers, but never catch fish. The large genus Halcyon is distributed all over Africa, and ranges throughout Southern Asia, through China, to Japan, inhabiting also the islands of the Malay Archipelago and the entire Continent of Australia. These birds prefer a mixed diet, and, in addition to an occasional fish, they will also eat crustacea, small reptiles, and insects. Perhaps the most beautiful of all the Kingfisher family are the TanysipterÆ,[272] which are found only in New Guinea, the adjacent Moluccas, and the north-east peninsula of Australia. These birds have only ten tail-feathers, the middle pair being very much longer than the rest, and ending in a spatule or racket. They live entirely in the forests, feeding on insects, and they are said to roost in the holes of rocks by the side of small streams. The best known species of Tanysiptera is the Australian Cinnamon-breasted Kingfisher (T. sylvia), which was discovered by the late Mr. John Macgillivray, who gives the following account of its habits:—“This pretty Tanysiptera is rather plentiful in the neighbourhood of Cape York, where it frequents the dense bushes, and is especially fond of resorting to the sunny openings in the woods, attracted, probably, by the greater abundance of insect food found in such places than elsewhere. I never saw it on the ground, and usually was first made aware of its presence by the glancing of its bright colours as it darted past with a rapid arrow-like flight, and disappeared in an instant amongst the dense foliage. Its cry, which may be represented by whee-whe-whee and wheet-wheet-wheet, is usually uttered when the bird is perched on a bare, transverse branch, or woody, rope-like climber, which it uses as a look-out station, and whence it makes short dashes at any passing insect or small Lizard, generally returning to the same spot. It is a shy, suspicious bird, and one well calculated to try the patience of the shooter, who may follow it for an hour without getting a shot, unless he has as keen an eye as a native, to whom I was indebted for first pointing it out to me. According to the natives, who know it by the name of Quatawur, it lays three white eggs in a hole dug by itself in one of the large ant-hills of red clay which form so remarkable a feature in the neighbourhood, some of them being as much as ten feet in height, with numerous buttresses and pinnacles. I believe that the bird also inhabits New Guinea; for at Redscar Bay, on the south-east of that great island, in long. 146° 15' E., a head strung upon a necklace was procured from the natives.”

The largest of all the Kingfishers are the Laughing Jackasses of Australia, this curious name being given to the bird from its strange note and peculiar look, both of which can be appreciated by any visitor to the London Zoological Gardens, where there is generally one, if not two, out of the seven species known. Of the bird in its native haunts a very good idea is given us by the “Old Bushman,” the late Mr. Henry Wheelwright, which is here taken from a little work called the “Bush Wanderings of a Naturalist.” “About an hour before sunrise the bushman is awakened by the most discordant sounds, as if a troop of fiends were shouting, whooping, and laughing around him in one wild chorus: this is the morning song of the ‘Laughing Jackass,’ warning his feathered mates that daybreak is at hand. At noon the same wild laugh is heard, and as the sun sinks into the west it again rings through the forest. I shall never forget the first night I slept in the open bush in this country. It was in the Black Forest. I woke about daybreak, after a confused sleep, and for some minutes I could not remember where I was, such were the extraordinary sounds that greeted my ears; the fiendish laugh of the Jackass, the clear, flute-like note of the Magpie, the hoarse cackle of the Wattle-birds, the jargon of flocks of Leatherheads, and the screaming of thousands of Parrots as they dashed through the forest, all joining chorus, formed one of the most extraordinary concerts I have ever heard, and seemed at the moment to have been got up for the purpose of welcoming the stranger to this land of wonders on that eventful morning. I have heard it hundreds of times since, but never with the same feelings that I listened to it then. The Laughing Jackass is the bushman’s clock, and being by no means shy, of a companionable nature, a constant attendant about the bush-tent, and a destroyer of Snakes, is regarded, like the Robin at home, as a sacred bird in the Australian forests. It is an uncouth-looking bird, a huge species of land Kingfisher, nearly the size of a Crow, of a rich chestnut brown and dirty white colour; the wings slightly chequered with light blue, after the manner of the British Jay; the tail-feathers long, rather pointed, and barred with brown. It has the foot of a Kingfisher; a very formidable, long, pointed beak, and a large mouth; it has also a kind of crest, which it erects when angry or frightened, and this gives it a very ferocious appearance. It is a common bird in all the forest throughout the year; breeds in a hole of a tree, and the eggs are white; generally seen in pairs, and by no means shy. Their principal food appears to be small reptiles, grubs, and caterpillars. As I said before, it destroys Snakes. I never but once saw them at this game: a pair of Jackasses had disabled a Carpet-Snake under an old gum-tree, and they sat on a dead branch above it, every now and then darting down and pecking it, and by their antics and chattering seemed to consider it a capital joke. I can’t say whether they ate the Snake—I fancy not; at least the only reptiles I have ever found in their stomachs have been small Lizards. The first sight that struck me on landing in London was a poor old Laughing Jackass moped up in a cage in Ratcliffe Highway. I never saw a more miserable, woe-begone object. I quite pitied my poor old friend, as he sat dejected on his perch; and the thought struck me at the time that we were probably neither of us benefited in changing the quiet freedom of the bush for the noise and bustle of the modern Babylon.” The Common Laughing Jackass has the sexes alike, but in all the other species the male has a blue tail and the female a red one.

These birds are found in Africa, India, and throughout the Malayan region and Molucca Islands, as far as New Guinea. They are birds of rather ungainly appearance, nearly every species having a casque, or helmet, which is developed in every variety of shape, and in some of them reaches an extraordinary size. The flat soles which were alluded to in the Kingfishers are here developed in a greater degree, and the toes are united together in exactly the same way. The flight, however, of the Hornbills is very different from that of the Kingfishers, being heavy and performed with an abundance of noise: so much so that some explorers in South-eastern New Guinea have been led to speak of a bird whose wings, when flying, produced a noise “resembling a locomotive,” but which was doubtless made by the large Hornbill (Buceros[273] ruficollis), which frequents that part of the world. They are generally found on very lofty trees and at a great height, which makes them difficult to shoot; and Governor Ussher says that in ascending the lonely forest-clad rivers of North-western Borneo the only sign of life is often a solitary Hornbill flying across at a great height in the air. Wallace states that the Rhinoceros Hornbill (Buceros rhinoceros), a native of the Malayan Peninsula and Borneo, finds the exertion of flying so great that it is compelled to rest at intervals of about a mile; and the same author says that he heard the Great Hornbill (Dichoceros bicornis) more than a mile off, so that the amazement caused by one of these large birds to the travellers in New Guinea, as mentioned above, does not seem so very inexplicable. The voice of the last-named species is said to be very harsh and grating, and the noise it makes is compared by Wallace to something between the bray of a Jackass and the shriek of a locomotive, and is not to be surpassed, probably, in power by any sound that an animal is capable of making. Tickell says that its roar re-echoes through the hills to such a degree that it is difficult to assign the noise to a bird; and Wallace observes that this is kept up so continuously as to be absolutely unbearable. The flight is heavy, and performed by repeated flappings of its huge wings. It usually flies in a straight line, and sails only when about to alight upon some tree.[274]

The food of the Hornbills consists principally of fruits, but under certain circumstances they become to a great extent omnivorous, and will devour anything, some of the species searching the ground for Lizards, which they devour readily, both when wild and in confinement; and the Pied Hornbill (Anthracoceros malabaricus) is stated by Mr. Inglis to be very fond of live fish, which it catches in shallow pools. The way he discovered this predilection for an abnormal diet was as follows: he possessed a tame Otter and three tame Hornbills; at feeding time the Otter was placed in a tub containing live fish, and these, when closely pressed, would jump out to escape from their pursuer, and were immediately swallowed by the Hornbills. Mr. Inglis has also found bones of fish in the stomachs of birds which he had shot; and the natives of the Naga Hills affirm that when these Hornbills are intent on fishing they can be approached sufficiently close to be killed by a stick.

By far the most curious habit belonging to these birds is that which takes place during the breeding season, when the male bird plasters the female into a hollow tree, there to hatch her eggs, nor does he release her until the young ones are nearly full grown. It is scarcely possible to conceive a practice more detrimental to the well-being of any bird than this. The exertion of feeding himself as well as his wife and nestlings must entail a serious strain upon the male, while the destruction of the latter must inevitably ensure the starvation of the female and of the young birds. This curious habit has been well attested by observers in Asia as well as in Africa; and the writer once received from an old negro collector on the West Coast of Africa, who rejoiced in the name of St. Thomas David Aubinn, and styled himself “Royal Hunter to the King of Denkera,” an adult female of the Black Hornbill (Sphagolobus atratus), together with a nearly full-grown young one, which, he said, had been taken by him together out of the hole of a tree; and the habits of the Hornbill in this respect were given by him in the following words: “When the female go to sit, the male he her shut in tree. If he no bring food, then she angry. If he no then bring food, then she more angry—swear. If he no then bring food, then she curse him for die. Man—beef—beefy—beef!”

If the last sentence is intended to represent the enraged Hornbill, it is evident that the noises produced by the bird are not of that startling character ascribed to the Eastern species by Wallace, as mentioned above. All accounts seem to agree that the female is shut in the hollow of a tree; but Dr. Kirk noted an exception, on native authority, and therefore one which must be confirmed by future research. This is the Crested Hornbill (Bycanistes cristatus), which is a common bird on the river ShirÉ, where it goes in large flocks, and roosts regularly in the same places. “The natives say that the female hatches her eggs in a hole underground, in which she is fastened by the male.” Our astonishment at the imprisonment of the female Hornbill is not lessened when it is found that the male bird keeps her supplied with food by a most curious process, which accounts for the statement of Dr. Livingstone[275]:—“The first time I saw this bird was at Kolobeng, where I had gone to the forest for some timber. Standing by a tree, a native looked behind me and exclaimed, ‘There is the nest of Korwe.’ I saw a slit only, about half an inch wide and three or four inches long, in a slight hollow of a tree. Thinking the word Korwe denoted some small animal, I waited with interest to see what he would extract. He broke the clay which surrounded the slit, put his arm into the hole, and brought out a Tockus, or Red-beaked Hornbill, which he killed. He informed me that when the female enters her nest she submits to a real confinement. The male plasters up the entrance, leaving only a narrow slit by which to feed his mate, and which exactly suits the form of his beak. The female makes a nest, of her own feathers, lays her eggs, hatches them, and remains with the young till they are fully fledged. During all this time, which is stated to be two or three months, the male continues to feed her and the young family. The prisoner generally becomes quite fat, and is esteemed a very dainty morsel by the natives; while the poor slave of a husband gets so lean that on the sudden lowering of the temperature, which sometimes happens after a fall of rain, he is benumbed, falls down, and dies.” At a meeting of the Zoological Society on the 25th February, 1869, Mr. A. D. Bartlett produced a curious envelope, which had been thrown by a Wrinkled Hornbill (Anorrhinus corrugatus) in the Zoological Gardens of London, which was found to contain plums or grapes well packed together; and Mr. Bartlett came to the conclusion that it was by means of fruit packed together in such a wrapper that the male fed the female during her confinement in the hollow tree. In 1874, Dr. Murie exhibited to the same society some similar envelopes, or, as he more properly called them, gizzard sacs, which had been thrown up by a specimen of Sclater’s Hornbill (Bycanistes subcylindricus) in the same way as by the previous bird. On examination, these gizzard sacs proved to be the interior lining of the bird’s stomach; and it was evident, from the short time that elapsed between the throwing up of the envelopes, that, as Dr. Murie observed, the bird in the interval had made a new one, and got rid of it also, without apparently being any the worse. One can readily imagine, however, that this process, being continued during the long period that the female is shut up in the bole of the tree, must tend greatly to weaken the bird. The habit of feeding his mate seems to be inherent in every Hornbill, even in captivity, for Mr. Bartlett observes:—“The tame male Hornbill is particularly distinguished at all seasons by this habit of throwing up his food, which he not only offers to the female, but to the keepers and others who are known to him. The male Concave Hornbill (Buceros cavatus) now in the Gardens will frequently throw up grapes, and, holding them in the point of the bill, thrust them into the mouth of the keeper, if he is not on the alert to prevent or avoid this distinguished mark of his kindness.”

Mr. Wallace thus describes the habits of the Hornbills, as observed by him during his travels in the East, and he points out certain peculiarities, proving that the old systematic position of these birds near the Toucans of America is erroneous:—“From an examination of the structure of the feet and toes, and from a consideration of their habits, we are led to conclude that the Hornbills are Fissirostral birds, though of a very abnormal form. Their very short legs and united toes, with a broad flat sole, are exactly similar to those of the Kingfishers. They have powerful wings, but their heavy bodies oblige them to use much exertion in flight, which is not therefore very rapid, though often extended to considerable distances. They are (in the Indian Archipelago, at least) entirely frugivorous, and it is curious to observe how their structure modifies their mode of feeding. They are far too heavy to dart after the fruit in the manner of the Trogons; they cannot even fly quickly from branch to branch, picking up a fruit here and a fruit there; neither have they strength or agility enough to venture on the more slender branches with the Pigeons and Barbets; but they alight heavily on a branch of considerable thickness, and then, looking cautiously round them, pick off any fruits that may be within reach, and jerk them down their throats by a motion similar to that used by the Toucans, which has been erroneously described as throwing the fruit up in the air before swallowing it. When they have gathered all within their reach they move sideways along the branch by short jumps, or, rather, a kind of shuffle, and the smaller species even hop across to other branches, when they again gather what is within their reach. When in this way they have progressed as far as the bough will safely carry them, they take a flight to another part of the tree, where they pursue the same course. It thus happens that they soon exhaust all the fruit within their reach; and long after they have left a tree the Barbets and Eurylaimi find abundance of food on the slender branches and extreme twigs. We see, therefore, that their very short legs and syndactyle feet remove them completely from the vicinity of the Toucans, in which the legs are actively employed in moving about after their food. Their wings, too, are as powerful as those of the Toucans are weak; and it is only the great weight of their bodies that prevents them from being capable of rapid and extensive flight. As it is, their strength of wing is shown by the great force with which they beat the air, producing a sound, in the larger species, which can be distinctly heard a mile off, and is even louder than that made by the flight of the great Muscovy Duck.” Mr. Wallace[276] also describes the capture of a young Hornbill in Sumatra:—“I returned to Palembang by water, and while staying a day at a village while a boat was being made water-tight, I had the good fortune to obtain a male, female, and young bird of one of the large Hornbills. I had sent my hunters to shoot, and while I was at breakfast they returned, bringing me a fine large male of the Buceros bicornis, which one of them assured me he had shot while feeding the female, which was shut up in a hole in a tree. I had often read of this curious habit, and immediately returned to the place, accompanied by several of the natives. After crossing a stream and a bog, we found a large tree leaning over some water, and on its lower side, at a height of about twenty feet, appeared a small hole, and what looked like a quantity of mud, which I was assured had been used in stopping up the large hole. After a while we heard the harsh cry of a bird inside, and could see the white extremity of its beak put out. I offered a rupee to any one who would go up and get out the bird, with the egg or young one, but they all declared it was too difficult, and they were afraid to try. I therefore very reluctantly came away. In about an hour afterwards, much to my surprise, a tremendous loud, hoarse screaming was heard, and the bird was brought me, together with a young one, which had been found in the hole. This was a most curious object, as large as a pigeon, but without a particle of plumage on any part of it. It was exceedingly plump and soft, and with a semi-transparent skin, so that it looked more like a bag of jelly, with head and feet stuck on, than like a real bird.”

One genus of these Hornbills is so remarkable as to demand a special notice.

THE GROUND HORNBILLS (Bucorax).

These are an African form, of which there are two or three kinds, distinguished by the casque, which is open in the birds from Abyssinia, compressed and shut in the South African species (B. cafer). Of the habits of the latter bird several accounts have been written, from which a few extracts are made; and the first is from a letter sent by Mr. Henry Bowker to Mr. Layard, after the publication of the latter’s “Birds of South Africa”[277]:—“There are many superstitions connected with the ‘Bromvogel.’ The bird is held sacred by the Kaffirs, and is killed only in times of severe drought, when one is killed by order of the ‘rain-doctor,’ and its body thrown into a pool in a river. The idea is that the bird has so offensive a smell that it will ‘make the water sick,’ and that the only way of getting rid of this is to wash it away to the sea, which can only be done by heavy rains and flooding of the river. The ground where they feed is considered good for cattle, and in settling in a new country, spots frequented by these birds are chosen by the wealthy people. Should the birds, however, by some chance, fly over a cattle kraal, the kraal is moved to some other place. They are mostly found in groups of from three to six or seven, and build their nests in hollow trees, or in the hollow formed by three or four branches striking off from the same spot. They roost in tall yellow-wood trees, and commence calling about daylight. I never saw one eating carrion, as stated in your book, though I have frequently seen them near the bones of dead cattle, picking up beetles and worms. They will eat meat, mice, and small birds, and swallow them by throwing them suddenly in the air, and letting them drop down the throat in falling. I once had a tame one, and noticed this particularly. It is very weak on the wing, and when required by the ‘doctor,’ the bird is caught by the men of a number of kraals turning out at the same time, and a particular bird is followed from one hill to another by those on the look-out. After three or four flights it can be run down and caught by a good runner.”

Mr. Ayres’ account of the species in Natal, though often referred to by other writers, is so excellent that no work treating of South African birds can omit it, and is therefore reproduced here in its entirety:—“In the stomach of the male were snakes, beetles, and other insects. These birds are gregarious, and to be found here all the year round, but are not very plentiful, generally three or four, sometimes more, being found together. They are very fond of hunting for their food on ground from which the grass has been burnt; with their strong bills they peck up the hard ground and turn over lumps in search of insects, making the dust fly again. Having found an insect or other food they take it up, and giving their head a toss, the bill pointing upward, appear to let the food roll down their throat. They also kill large snakes in the following manner, viz.:—On discovering a snake, three or four of the birds advance sideways towards it with their wings stretched out, and with their quills flap at and irritate the snake till he seizes them by the wing-feathers, when they immediately all close round and give him violent pecks with their long and sharp bills, quickly withdrawing again when the snake leaves his hold. This they repeat till the snake is dead. If the reptile advances on them they place both wings in front of them, completely covering the heads and most vulnerable parts. Their call, which consists of but one note repeated—a deep and sonorous coo-coo—may be heard at a great distance. I have myself heard it, under favourable circumstances, at a distance of nearly two miles. The call of the female is exactly the same coo-coo, only pitched one note higher than the male. The latter invariably calls first, the female immediately answering, and they continue this perhaps for five or ten minutes, every now and then, as they are feeding. Their flight is heavy, and when disturbed, although very shy, they seldom fly more than half a mile before they alight again. At a distance they would easily be mistaken for Turkeys, their body being deep and rather compressed, similarly to those birds, with the wings carried well on the back. The little pouch on the throat they are able to fill with air at pleasure, the male bird sent to me to London doing this before he died. I think their principal range of country is on the coast and from twenty to thirty miles inland. They roost on trees at night, but always feed on the ground.”

In Angola, where the bird is called by the natives Engungoashito, Mr. Monteiro had great difficulty in procuring specimens, on account of the superstitious dread in which they are held by the natives. He says:—“They are found sparingly nearly everywhere in Angola, becoming abundant, however, only towards the interior. In the mountain range in which Pungo Andongo is situated, and running nearly north and south, they are common, and it was near the base of these mountains that I shot these two specimens. They are seen in flocks of six or eight (the natives say always in equal numbers of males and females). Farther in the interior I was credibly informed that they are found in flocks of from one to two hundred individuals. The males raise up and open and close their tails exactly in the manner of a Turkey, and filling out their bright cockscomb-red, bladder-like wattle on their necks, and with wings dropping on the ground, make quite a grand appearance. They do not present a less extraordinary appearance as they walk slowly with an awkward gait, and peer from side to side with their great eyes in quest of food in the short grass, poking their large bills at any frog, snake, &c., that may come in their way. Their flight is feeble and not long sustained. When alarmed, they generally fly up to the nearest large tree, preferring such as have thick branches with but little foliage, as the Adansonia, ‘Muenzo’ (a wild fig). Here they squat close on the branches, and, if further alarmed, raise themselves quite upright on their legs in an attitude of listening, with wide open bills. The first to notice a person at once utters the customary cry, and all fly off to the next tree. They are very wary, and the grass near the mountains being comparatively short, with but little scrub or birch, it is very difficult to approach without being observed by them from the high trees. I followed a flock of six for upwards of two hours, crawling flat on my stomach, negro fashion, before I obtained a chance of a shot, when I was so fortunate as to break the wing of a male without otherwise injuring it. It was quickly captured by the blacks. They are omnivorous in their food; reptiles, birds, eggs, beetles, and all other insects, mandioca roots, ginguba or ground-nuts, constitute their food in the wild state. In confinement I have fed this bird upon the same food, also upon fresh fish, which it showed itself very fond of, as well as on entrails of fowls, &c. On letting it loose in Loanda in a yard where there were several fowls with chickens, it immediately gulped down its throat six of the latter, and finished its breakfast with several eggs! The note or cry of the male is like the hoarse blast of a horn, repeated short three times, and answered by the female in a lower note. It is very loud, and can be heard at a considerable distance, particularly at night. They are said to build their nests on the very highest Adansonias, in the hollow or cavity formed at the base or junction of the branches with the trunk.”

The present species is of a very large size, measuring about forty inches in length, and about nineteen inches in the wing. It is entirely black, with the exception of the primary quills, which are white; the bill and legs are black, but the bare skin on the neck and round the eye is bright red in the male, but blue in the female.

Different as these birds are in appearance and habits, ornithologists now agree that from their structure they must be placed in close alliance with the Hornbills, with which they are more particularly connected by the Wood Hoopoes. Instead of the ungainly figures and top-heavy-looking casques of the Hornbills, the Hoopoes are remarkable for their graceful carriage and elegant figure, in which the beautiful crest plays an important part. They are particularly at home in the desert countries, where their sandy-coloured plumage is no doubt a great protection to them; and a story is told that the Hoopoe, if it sees a Hawk approaching, will throw itself flat on the ground, and by twisting its wings round in front and remaining motionless, with its bill pointing upwards, it will look like a piece of old rag, and thus escape detection.

Not more than five species of Hoopoe are known, all inhabitants of the Old World, and the most widely distributed is the Common Hoopoe (Upupa epops) of Europe, which visits England during the spring and autumn migration, and at least one instance of its breeding in that country is known. Mr. Howard Saunders states[278]:—“In the year 1847 a pair of Hoopoes nested in a hole of an old yew-tree in a shrubbery of an old-fashioned garden at Leatherhead, Surrey. The proprietor was very anxious that the birds should not be disturbed, and a strict veto was placed upon any bird’s-nesting in the shrubbery—a severe trial to our boyish propensities; but we were afterwards rewarded by seeing the parent birds with their young strutting about upon the lawn. As well as I remember, there were five young ones besides the two old birds.” The species is found all over central and southern Europe in summer, being in some places very plentiful; but it is a rare visitor to the northern parts, and has disappeared from some countries, like Denmark, for instance, where the felling of the old and hollow forest trees has deprived it of its accustomed breeding-places. In some places the bird is disliked, and in Scandinavia, where it occurs only in the southern and central portions, it bears a bad name among the peasantry, who suppose it to be a foreboder of war and hard times, and from this circumstance its name of HÄrfugel or “army bird,” is derived. The Chinese also have an objection to them, branding them by the name of “Coffin-bird,” as they often breed in the holes of exposed Chinese coffins. On the other hand, according to Canon Tristram, in the Sahara the Arabs have a superstitious veneration for the Hoopoe, and its magical properties enter largely into the arcana of the Arab “hakeem.” He says that great numbers of Hoopoes resort to the M’zab cities and frequent oases in winter, where they strut about the courtyards and round the tents with the familiarity of barn-door fowls. Mons. Favier says, that in Tangier the superstitious Jews and Mahomedans both believe that the heart and feathers of the Hoopoe are charms against the machinations of evil spirits.

The ordinary name of Hoopoe is derived from the note of the bird, and in most European languages the latter suggests the vernacular names. Thus, in Bulgaria it is called Poo-poo, in Valentia Put-Put, Bubbula, &c., in Italy, Poupa in Portugal, and so on. Mr. Swinhoe writes of the bird and its note as follows:—“I have already described the peculiar way in which the Hoopoe produces its notes—by puffing out the sides of its neck, and hammering on the ground at the production of each note, thereby exhausting the air at the end of the series of three, which makes up its song. Before it repeats its call, it repeats the puffing of the neck with a slight gurgling noise. When it is able to strike its bill, the sound is the correct hoo-hoo-hoo; but when perched on a rope, and only jerking out the song with nods of the head, the notes more resemble the syllables hoh-hoh-hoh. Mr. Darwin makes use of this last fact to show that some birds have instrumental means to produce their music. It is not to this point, however, that I wish to call attention, but to the fact of the bird’s puffing out the sides of its neck. It is generally supposed that the song of a bird is produced by actions of the lower larynx on air passing up the bronchial tubes onwards and outwards through the main tube, or trachea. The trachea of the Hoopoe is not dilatable, but its oesophagus is; and the puffing of the neck is caused by the bulging of the oesophagus with swallowed air. There is no connection between the oesophagus and the trachea, and apparently no organ at the entrance to the former that could modify sound. What action, then, can this swallowed air be made to take in the production of the bird’s notes? Pigeons have strikingly large air-crops, which they empty with each coo, and refill before they coo again. Many birds swell out the throat when calling or singing, and others move it up and down. These actions must also be caused by the swallowed air in the oesophagus, and must modify the sounds in some way, as variously used, adding power and richness in some cases, or giving ventriloquistic effect in others. This question seems never to have been enquired into before, and I throw out the hint in hopes that others may help to elucidate the matter with their investigations.”

The length of the Common Hoopoe is about one foot; the upper surface is greyish-brown, the wings and shoulders black barred with white, the rump being pure white; on the head, which is tawny-coloured, is an enormous crest, the feathers of which have a black tip, before which is a narrow white bar; the tail is black; with a white band at about a third of its length from the end; underneath the body is pale cinnamon, white on the abdomen and under tail coverts, the flanks striped with brown. The sexes are alike in colour, excepting that the female is a little paler.

THE WOOD HOOPOES (Irrisor).

All the birds belonging to this section of the Hoopoes are remarkable for their very long and strongly graduated tails, for their brilliant metallic plumage, which is always dark, and inclining more or less to black—instead of a sandy colour, as in the true Hoopoes—and most of them for their very curved, scimitar-like bills. They are all natives of Africa, and have a remarkably loud, chattering note; and from its harsh and resounding voice the Red-billed Wood Hoopoe (I. erythrorhynchus) is known among the Dutch at the Cape as “Cackala,” or the “Chatterer.” The late M. Jules Verreaux told the writer that the noise made by these birds is tremendous, and that on one occasion he was attracted by an uproar, which seemed to indicate that something unusual was the matter. On proceeding to the place whence the noise came, he was astonished to find on the low branch of a tree three of these birds, perched one on the back of the other, betokening by their drooping wings and repeated chatterings the utmost consternation and fright. The cause of this was not far to seek, for just below the birds was a cobra, balancing himself in an erect attitude, and perfectly motionless, the only indication of life being the incessant flicking of the animal’s tongue. The cacklings of the birds became feebler and feebler, until at last the bottom one fell off the perch and dropped into the extended jaws of the snake, which were ready to receive it; while the other two birds, apparently freed from the spell of the reptile’s eye, took to instant flight. Having his gun in his hand, M. Verreaux shot the snake immediately; but on going to rescue the bird, found that the latter was quite dead. Mr. Thomas Ayres, who has studied the species in Natal, says:—“The food of these birds consists almost entirely of a species of cockroach, which they take from the crevices of rough-barked trees, and in search of which they creep about the trunk and branches somewhat similarly to the Woodpeckers. In this manner their tail-feathers frequently become much worn. From four to eight of these birds are generally together, and frequent busby country. They have a loud chattering note, and are extremely restless in their habits. They have a peculiarly powerful and disagreeable smell.” Mr. Andersson’s account of the species is as follows:—“It lives in small flocks—probably consisting of entire families—which frequent trees, chiefly of the larger kinds, and examine them most assiduously in search of insects and their larvÆ, which they extract from crevices in the wood and from beneath the bark. These birds climb like Woodpeckers; and their long tails come into constant contact with the rough surface of the trees, by which the tail-feathers are much injured. When they have finished their examination of one tree they move to the next convenient one, but not all together, as a short interval generally elapses after the departure of each individual. The moment flight is decided on, they utter harsh discordant cries or chatterings, which are continued until they are all safely lodged in their new quarters. These harsh notes are also heard when they conceive themselves in danger from either man, beast, or bird; and they thus often betray their presence.”

The present species measures about seventeen inches, the tail being about ten out of that number, and being thus three inches longer than the body of the bird. The colour is black, glossed with green on the head, back, and under surface, with blue on the throat, purple on the wings and tail, and having a bronzy gloss on the shoulders. All the tail feathers, except the two centre ones, have a white spot near the tip and across the wings a white bar. The bill and legs are bright coral red.

THE BEE-EATERS—Their Brilliant Plumage—Colonel Irby’s Account of the Bird in Spain—Shot for Fashion’s sake—THE MOTMOTS—Appearance—Mr. Waterton on the Houtou—Curious Habit of Trimming its Tail—Mr. O. Salvin’s Observations on this point—Mr. Bartlett’s Evidence—THE ROLLERS—Why so called—Canon Tristram’s Account of their Habits—Colour—Other Species—THE TROGONS—Where found—Peculiar Foot—Tender Skin—Inability to Climb—Their Food—THE LONG-TAILED TROGON, OR QUESAL—Mr. Salvin’s Account of its Habits—Its Magnificent Colour—How they are Hunted—THE NIGHTJARS, OR GOATSUCKERS—Appearance—Distribution—The Guacharo, or Oil-bird—“Frog-mouths”—Mr. Gould’s Account of the Habits of the Tawny-shouldered Podargus—How it Builds its Nest—Mr. Waterton’s Vindication of the Goatsucker—What Services the Bird does really render Cattle, Goats, and Sheep—Its Cry—THE COMMON GOATSUCKER—THE SWIFTS—THE COMMON SWIFT—Migration—Their Home in the Air—Where they Breed—Nest—TREE SWIFTS—The Edible-Nest Swiftlets—Mr. E. L. Layard’s Visit to the Cave of the Indian Swiftlet—THE HUMMING BIRDS—Number of Species—Distribution—Professor Newton’s Description of the Bird—Mr. Wallace on their Habits—Wilson on the North American Species.

THE SIXTH FAMILY OF THE FISSIROSTRAL PICARIAN BIRDS.
THE BEE-EATERS (MeropidÆ).

THE Bee-eaters are among the most brightly plumaged of the Picarian birds, and are distributed over the whole of Africa, India, the Moluccas, and Australia. One species (Merops apiaster) visits Europe in the summer, being, however, nowhere so common as in the countries of the Mediterranean basin, though they occasionally wander to England. Colonel Irby[279] gives the following account of the Bee-eater in Southern Spain:—“The bird did not appear to me to be quite so common in Morocco at the end of April as on the Spanish side of the Strait, where, during April, May, June, and July, it is one of the most conspicuous birds in the country; at that season, Andalusia without Bee-eaters would be like London without Sparrows. Everywhere they are to be seen; and their single note, teerp, heard continually repeated, magnifies their numbers in imagination. Occasionally, they venture into the centre of towns when on passage, hovering round the orange-trees and flowers in some patio or garden. Crossing the Strait for the most part in the early part of the day, flight follows flight for hours in succession. When passing at Gibraltar, they sometimes skim low down to settle for a moment on a bush or a tree, but generally go straight on, often almost out of sight; but their cry always betrays their presence in the air. In some places they nest in large colonies; in others there are, perhaps, only two or three holes. When there are no river-banks or barrancos in which to bore holes, they tunnel down into the ground, where the soil is suitable, in a vertical direction, generally on some slight elevated mound. The shafts to these nests are not usually so long as those in banks of rivers, which sometimes reach to a distance of eight or nine feet in all; the end is enlarged into a round sort of chamber, on the bare soil of which the usual four or five shining white eggs are placed. After a little they become discoloured from the castings of the old birds, the nest being, as it were, lined with the wings and undigested parts of Bees and Wasps. Vast numbers of eggs and young must be annually destroyed by Snakes and Lizards. The latter are often seen sunning themselves at the entrance of a hole among a colony of Bee-eaters; and frequently have I avenged the birds by treating the yellow reptile to a charge of shot. The bills of Bee-eaters, after boring out their habitations, are sometimes worn away to less than half their usual length; but as newly-arrived birds never have these stumpy bills, it is evident that they grow again to their ordinary length. It has often been a source of wonder to me how they have the exertion to make these long tunnels: the amount of exertion must be enormous; but when one considers the boles of the Sand-Martin, it is perhaps not so surprising after all. During my stay at Gibraltar, Bee-eaters decreased very much in the neighbourhood, being continually shot on account of their bright plumage, to put in ladies’ hats. Owing to this sad fashion, I saw no less than seven hundred skins, all shot at Tangier in the spring of 1874, which were consigned by Olcese to some dealer in London. However, the enormous injury these birds do to the peasants who keep Bees fully merits any amount of punishment, but, at the same time, they destroy quantities of Wasps. After being fired at once or twice, they become very wary and shy at the breeding-places; and the best way to shoot them is to hide near the colmenares, or groups of corchos, or cork bee-hives, which in Spain are placed in rows, sometimes to the number of seventy or eighty together; and it is no unusual thing to see as many Bee-eaters whirling round and swooping down, even seizing the bees at the very entrance of their hives. The reason of their early departure in August is to be accounted for by the simple fact that bees cease to work when there are no flowers, and by that time all vegetation is scorched up.” The Bee-eater suffers probably less from the fashionable rage after its plumes than do some of the bright-coloured birds, as it goes in winter to South Africa, where it rears another brood of young ones.

These birds are peculiar to the New World, being found from Mexico southwards through the whole of Central America and the South American continent. Their general plumage is green, and the majority of the species have a large racket at the end of the centre tail-feathers, formed by the bird itself, as detailed below. Mr. Waterton gives an account of the Motmots in Demerara, and he was the first to point out that the racket in the tail was produced by the bird’s own action. He writes:—“The Houtou ranks high in beauty amongst the birds of Demerara. His body is green, with a bluish cast in the wings and tail; his crown, which he erects at pleasure, consists of black in the centre, surrounded with lovely blue of two different shades; he has a triangular black spot, edged with blue, behind the eye, extending to the ear; and on his breast a sable tuft, consisting of nine feathers, edged also with blue. This bird seems to suppose that its beauty can be increased by trimming the tail, which undergoes the same operation as one’s hair in a barber’s shop, only with this difference, that it uses its own beak, which is serrated, in lieu of a pair of scissors. As soon as his tail is full-grown, he begins about an inch from the extremity of the two longest feathers in it, and cuts away the web on both sides of the shaft, making a gap about an inch long. Both male and female adonise their tails in this manner, which gives them a remarkable appearance amongst all other birds. While we consider the tail of the Houtou blemished and defective, were he to come amongst us, he would probably consider our heads, cropped and bald, in no better light. He who wishes to observe this handsome bird in his native haunts must be in the forest at the morning’s dawn. The Houtou shuns the society of man; the plantations and cultivated parts are too much disturbed to engage it to settle there. The thick and gloomy forests are the places preferred by the solitary Houtou. In those far-extending wilds, about day-break, you hear him articulate, in a distinct and mournful tone, ‘Houtou, houtou.’ Move cautiously on to where the sound proceeds from, and you will see him sitting in the underwood, about a couple of yards from the ground, his tail moving up and down every time he articulates ‘houtou.’ He lives on insects and the berries among the underwood; and very rarely is seen in the lofty trees, except the bastard Siloabali-tree, the fruit of which is grateful to him. He makes no nest, but rears his young in a hole in the sand, generally on the side of a hill.”

In confirmation of Mr. Waterton’s remarks, a paper was published by Mr. Osbert Salvin in the “Proceedings of the Zoological Society” for 1873 (p. 429):—“Some years ago (1860) this Society possessed a specimen of Momotus subrufescens, which lived in one of the large cages of the parrot-house all by itself. I have a very distinct recollection of the bird; for I used every time I saw it to cheer it up a bit by whistling such of its notes as I had picked up in the forests of America. The bird always seemed to appreciate this attention; for though it never replied, it became at once animated, hopped about the cage, and swung its tail from side to side like the pendulum of a clock. For a long time its tail had perfect spatules; but towards the end of its life I noticed that the median feathers were no longer trimmed with such precision; and on looking at its beak I noticed that from some cause or other it did not close properly, but gaped slightly at the tip, and had thus become unfitted for removing the vanes of the feathers. Since the subject has been revived by Dr. Murie, it occurred to me that Mr. Bartlett could hardly have failed to watch this bird during its moults, and whilst the tail-feathers were growing. I accordingly wrote to him, and received the following reply:—

‘DEAR SIR,—During the several years the Motmot lived here I had many opportunities of watching its habits; and I have seen the bird in the act of picking off the webs of the central feathers of its tail, and have taken from the bottom of the cage the fragments of web that fell from the bird’s bill. As the bird lived here for some years, its bill got rather out of order, that is, it did not close properly at the point; and consequently the picking off the web at last was imperfectly performed, and the two sides of the tail-feather presented an unequal and unfinished appearance. I noticed also that the Motmot frequently threw up castings, after the manner of the Kingfishers and other birds that swallow indigestible substances.—Yours faithfully, A. D. BARTLETT.’

“The point is further elucidated by the examination of skins in our collection. We have a number of specimens of various species in which the central tail-feathers were growing when the birds were shot. The drawings now exhibited show some of them. Figure A represents the tail of a young Momotus lessoni in its first plumage. The central tail-feathers are here untouched; they merely show the reduction in the breadth of the web in the part which is subsequently denuded. Of this more anon. Figure B shows the growing feathers of the tail of a specimen of Momotus mexicanus; in this a few vanes have been removed from the left-hand feather. Figure C shows the process of denudation still further advanced. In all these three birds it will be noticed that the feathers in question have grown symmetrically, both being of nearly equal length. Figure D represents the tail of a Prionirhynchus platyrhynchus, where these feathers have not grown symmetrically, but the left-hand one has been developed sooner than the right-hand one. What has happened? The bird expecting to find two feathers upon which to operate has commenced to nibble not only the left central rectrix, but also the next rectrix on the right-hand side! But it seems to have not felt very certain about the state of its tail, for it has wandered off to one of the others, and commenced nibbling it also. When, however, the proper right-hand feather appeared, these mistakes have been discovered, and the work recommenced in the usual way. I can interpret in no other way the state in which the feathers on the right-hand side of the tail of this bird appear.”

These birds constitute a family of birds which are strictly denizens of the Old World, and are remarkable for their bright plumage. The vernacular name of Roller is given to them from their habit of mounting or “rolling” in the air. Canon Tristram, in describing the habits of the European species (Coracias garrula) in Palestine, writes as follows:—“On the 12th of April I reached Ain Sultan (Jericho) alone, and remained there in solitude for several days, during which I had many opportunities of observing the grotesque habits of the Roller. For several successive evenings, great flocks of Rollers mustered shortly before sunset on some dÔm trees near the fountain, with all the noise but without the decorum of the Rooks. After a volley of discordant screams, from the sound of which it derives its Arabic trivial name of ‘Schurkrak,’ a few birds would start from their perch, and commence a series of somersaults overhead, somewhat after the fashion of Tumbler Pigeons. In a moment or two they would be followed by the whole flock, and these gambols would be repeated for a dozen times or more. Every where it takes its perch on some conspicuous branch or on the top of a rock, where it can see and be seen. The bare tops of the fig-trees, before they put forth their leaves, are, in the cultivated terraces, a particularly favourite resort. In the barren Ghor I have often watched it perched unconcernedly on a knot of gravel or marl in the plain, watching apparently for the emergence of beetles from the sand. Elsewhere I have not seen it settle on the ground. Like Europeans in the East, it can make itself happy without chairs and tables in the desert, but prefers a comfortable easy-chair when it is to be found. Its nest I have seen in ruins, in holes in rocks, in burrows, in steep sand-cliffs, but far more generally in hollow trees. The colony in the Wady Kelt used burrows excavated by themselves; and many a hole did they relinquish, owing to the difficulty of working it. But so cunningly were the nests placed under a crumbling treacherous ledge, overhanging a chasm of perhaps one or two hundred feet, that we were completely foiled in our siege. We obtained a nest of six eggs, quite fresh, in a hollow tree in Bashan, near Gadara, on the 6th of May. It is noticed by Russell among the birds of Aleppo.” The colour of the Common Roller is very beautiful, and we can well understand the significance of the Turkish name “Alla Carga,” or Beautiful Crow. The back is pale cinnamon-brown; the wing-coverts pale blue, excepting those on the edge of the wing, which are rich ultramarine; the quills brownish-black, deep ultramarine underneath; the secondaries with more blue on the outer web; the forehead white; the crown of the head and back of the neck pale blue; the lower back and rump ultramarine; the upper tail-coverts greenish-blue; the tail blackish-brown, the feathers blue at the base, the two centre feathers dull green; cheeks and throat pale blue, streaked with silvery blue; the under surface of the body pale greenish-blue. The total length is twelve inches. One curious feature about the European bird is that the outer tail-feather tends towards a point at the tip, as if there was an inclination to become elongated; and in Africa there is a species which actually differs from the European Roller only in having the outer tail-feathers elongated to an extent of several inches.

In Madagascar, that wonderful island which produces so many peculiar forms of bird life, there are found the Ground Rollers (Atelornis), extraordinary birds which live entirely on the ground, and only come out at dusk. Their flight is said by M. Grandidier to be very weak, so that the birds are never found above the lowest branches. They are rather local in their habitat, but where they do occur seem not to be uncommon. The Cyrombo Roller (Leptosoma discolor) is also a native of Madagascar, and has at first sight much the appearance of a Cuckoo, of which family of birds it was for many years considered to be a member. The head is extremely large in this bird, and the region of the nostrils densely plumed; but the latter, instead of being placed near the base of the bill, as in most Rollers, are situated nearly in the middle of the upper mandible. Messrs. Pollen and Van Dam give an interesting account of this bird in their notes on the “Birds of Madagascar”:—“The natives of the north-west of Madagascar give this bird the name of Cyrombo. It has the curious habit of hovering in the air, and uttering a very loud note, striking its wings against its body as it calls. This cry, resembling the syllables tu-hou, tu-hou, tu-hou, goes on increasing in force. Nowhere have we found this bird in greater numbers than in the forests in the neighbourhood of the bays of BoÉny and Jongony, in the south-western portion of the island of Mayotte. The racket that they make during the whole journey is truly wearisome. Although very active as criers, these birds are lazy and stupid. As soon as they are perched on the branch of a tree, they remain, so to speak, immovable, and in perpendicular position, so that it is easy to see them and knock them over. When seen in this position, they look like birds impaled. We suppose that they live in polyandry, because one always sees three times as many males as females; often we have seen three males in company with one single female, and all allowed themselves to be killed one after the other. In fact, when one is killed, the others do not fly away, but content themselves with merely moving from one branch to another. These birds live principally on Grasshoppers, but they devour also Chameleons and Lizards, which gives to their flesh a disagreeable odour, like that we observe in the Common Cuckoo. In preparing these birds we often found them with a species of large parasite of the family of the OrnithomyiÆ, of a dirty green colour. We were never able to study the propagation of this bird; but while in Mayotte we saw an individual make a nest of rushes in the hole of a great ‘Badamier’ (Terminalia Catappa). These birds when they cry puff out the throat, so that this portion of the body has the appearance of a pendent bag. When wounded, they erect the feathers of the forehead and ears as well as those of the throat, all the while distributing well-aimed blows with the beak. The Cyrombo plays a great part in the chants and religious recitations of the Malagasy natives. The French colonists of Mayotte call this bird the ‘Parrot.’ It is common at Madagascar and Mayotte, and has, according to Mr. Sclater, been found in the island of Anjounan.”

These beautiful birds are found both in the Old World and the New, but are inhabitants of the tropical latitudes only. In Africa two species only are known, nor does another species occur until the coast of India is reached, and then in the forests of the peninsula and of the Himalayas there are some beautiful red-breasted representatives of the family, whence throughout the Malayan peninsula and the Sunda Islands some of the handsomest Trogons occur. But it is in America, from Mexico southwards, that the larger number of species is met with, no less than thirty-three out of a total of forty-six Trogons being peculiar to the New World. Their habits vary somewhat, as all the Old World members are insectivorous, while the American species principally feed on fruit, and only devour insects in a secondary manner. The Trogons may be distinguished not only by their broadened bill, but by the foot, where the first and second toes are turned permanently, two in front and two behind. This is a different arrangement to that of the Cuckoos and other climbing PicariÆ, where the fourth toe is permanently or temporarily turned backwards as well as the first. The skin of these birds is remarkably thin and tender, so that their preparation is by no means an easy matter, and their appearance is also detracted from by a scantiness of plumage on the nape, where a great want of feathers takes place. Mr. Wallace, writing of the birds of this present family, remarks:—“As an instance how totally unable the Trogons are to use their feet for anything like climbing, we may mention that the Trogons of South America feed principally on fruit, which one would think they would get by climbing or walking after, if they could. But no; they take their station on a bare branch about the middle of the tree, and having fixed their attention on some particularly tempting fruit, they dart at it, seize it dexterously on the wing, and return to their original seat. Often, while waiting under a fruit-tree for Chatterers or Pigeons, have we received the first intimation of the presence of a Trogon by the whir-r-r of its wings as it darted after a fruit. It is curious that this habit seems confined to the Trogons of America. In the East I have never yet observed it, and in the numerous specimens I have opened, nothing has been found but insects. The African Trogons also appear to be wholly insectivorous.”

Again, in his “Naturalist in Nicaragua” (p. 122) Mr. Belt writes:—“The Trogons are general feeders. I have taken from their crops the remains of fruits, grasshoppers, beetles, termites, and even small crabs and land shells. The largest species, the Massena Trogon (Trogon massena), is one foot in length, dark bronze-green above, with the smaller wing-feathers speckled white and black, and the belly of a beautiful carmine. Sometimes it sits on a branch above where the army of ants are foraging below, and when a grasshopper or other large insect flies up and alights on a leaf it darts after it, picks it up, and returns to its perch. I sometimes found them breaking into the, nests of the termites with their strong bills, and eating the large soft-bodied workers, and it was from the crop of this species that I took the remains of a small crab and land shell (Helicina). They take short, quick, jerking flights, and are often met with along with flocks of other birds—Flycatchers, Tanagers, Creepers, Woodpeckers, &c., that hunt together, traversing the forests in flocks of hundreds, belonging to more than a score of different species, so that while they are passing over the trees seem alive with them. Mr. Bates has mentioned similar gregarious flocks met with by him in Brazil; and I never went any distance into the woods around St. Domingo without seeing them. The reason of their association together may be partly for protection, as no rapacious bird or mammal could approach the flock without being discovered by one or other of them; but the principal reason appears to be that they play into each other’s hands in their search for food. Creepers and Woodpeckers and others drive the insects out of their hiding-places under bark, amongst moss and withered leaves. The Flycatchers sit on branches and fly after the larger insects, the Flycatchers taking them on the wing, the Trogons from the leaves on which they have settled.”

THE LONG-TAILED TROGON, OR QUESAL (Pharomacrus[280] mocinno).

This beautiful species is mentioned in Willughby’s Ornithology, which was published some two hundred years ago, in which book an appendix is devoted to such birds as the author suspected to be “fabulous;” and the Quetzaltototl of Hernandez was placed in this category, nor was it till the French traveller Delattre visited Guatemala, and published his account of the habits of the bird in 1843, that it was restored to its proper position as one of the most beautiful of the feathered tribe: it is now by no means rare in collections. The best account of the habits of this species—and, indeed, of any Trogon—is that given by Mr. Osbert Salvin, in his paper entitled “Quesal-shooting in Vera Paz,”[281] in Guatemala. He writes from his diary:—“Off to the mountains at last, with a fine day and a fair prospect of success. The road, after crossing the river, strikes off to the northward—a mountain track winding among the hills. Soon after entering the forest, a river crosses the path—a foaming torrent—a fall into which gives no hope of escape. A felled tree, one of the largest of the forest, forms the bridge, over which, slippery with moss and foam, we have to pass. For ourselves it is nothing; but I must say I tremble for the Indians, each of whom carries his 75 lbs. of cargo. In the worst and most slippery part, the foothold is somewhat improved by the tree being notched with a ‘machete;’ but still it is as dangerous a pass as I ever crossed. After half-an-hour’s delay, we reach the other bank. One ‘mozo’ only turned faint-hearted, and another carried his pack across. From the river the path becomes very precipitous, and we continue to climb till we reach the foot of a rock, where we find a deserted rancho, and take possession. A fire having been made to heat the pixtones, we dine, and afterwards start for the forest close by to look for Quesals. On entering, the path takes the unpleasant form of a succession of felled trees, which are slippery from recent rains, and render progress slow. My companions are ahead, and I am just balancing myself along the last trunk, when Filipe comes back to say that they have heard a Quesal. Of course, being especially anxious to watch as well as to shoot one of these birds myself, I immediately hurry to the spot. I sit down upon my wide-awake in most approved style close to Cipriano, who is calling the bird, and wait, all eyes and ears, for the result. I have not to wait long. A distant clattering note indicates that the bird is on the wing. He settles—a splendid male—on a bough of a tree, not seventy yards from where we are hidden. Cipriano wants to creep up to within shot, but I keep him back, wishing to risk the chance of losing a specimen rather than miss such an opportunity of seeing the bird in its living state, and of watching its movements. It sits almost motionless on its perch, the body remaining in the same position, the head only moving slowly from side to side. The tail does not hang quite perpendicularly, the angle between the true tail and the vertical being perhaps as much as fifteen or twenty degrees. The tail is occasionally jerked open and closed again, and now and then slightly raised, causing the long tail-coverts to vibrate gracefully. I have not seen all. A ripe fruit catches the Quesal’s eye, and he darts from his perch, hovers for a moment, plucks the berry, and returns to his former position. This is done with a degree of elegance that defies description. The remark has often been made by persons looking at stuffed Humming-birds, ‘What lovely little things these must look in life, when they are flying about!’ But they do not. Place a Humming-bird twenty yards from you, and what do you see of its colours, except in the most favourable position and light? This is not the case with the Quesal. The rich metallic green of the head, back, and tail-coverts reflects its colour in every position, whilst the deep scarlet of the breast and the white of the tail show vividly at a distance, and contrast with the principal colour of the body. The living Quesal strikes the eye by its colour at once. It stands unequalled for splendour among birds of the New World, and is hardly surpassed among those of the Old. Such are my reflections, when a low whistle from Cipriano calls the bird nearer, and a moment afterwards it is in my hand—the first Quesal I have seen and shot.

“The cries of the Quesal are various. They consist principally of a low double note, ‘whe-oo, whe-oo,’ which the bird repeats, whistling it softly at first, and then gradually swelling it into a loud but not unmelodious cry. This is often succeeded by a long note, which begins low, and after swelling, dies away as it began. Both these notes can be easily imitated by the human voice. The bird’s other cries are harsh and discordant. They are best imitated by doubling a pliant leaf over the first fingers, which must be held about two inches apart. The two edges of the leaf being then placed in the mouth, and the breath drawn in, the required sound is produced. Cipriano was an adept at imitating these cries, but I failed in producing them for want of practice. When searching for Quesals, the hunter whistles as he walks along, here and there sitting down and repeating the other notes. As soon as he hears a bird answering at a distance he stops, and imitates the bird’s cries until it has approached near enough to enable him either to shoot it from where he stands, or to creep up to within shot. The female generally flies up first, and perches on a tree near the hunter, who takes no notice of her, but continues calling till the male, who usually quickly follows the female, appears. Should the male not show himself, the hunter will sometimes shoot the female. Thus it is that so large a proportion of males are shot. The flight of the Quesal is rapid and straight; the long tail-feathers, which never seem to be in his way, stream after him. The bird is never found except in forests composed of the highest trees, the lower branches of which (i.e., those at about two-thirds of the height of the tree from the ground) seem to be its favourite resort. Its food consists principally of fruit, but occasionally a caterpillar may be found in its stomach.”

The distinguishing character of this fine Trogon is the long tail of the male bird, which measures about three feet in length. The colour of the upper parts is golden green, as well as the throat and fore neck; the breast is bright scarlet, and is overshadowed by some beautiful drooping plumes, which spring from the shoulders, and hang gracefully over the wings; the outer tail-feathers are white, with black bases, and the bill is yellow. The female has a black bill, and is much smaller, and she does not possess the long tail and decorative plumes of the male.

THE TENTH FAMILY OF THE FISSIROSTRAL PICARIAN BIRDS.—THE NIGHTJARS, OR GOATSUCKERS (CaprimulgidÆ).

From the adjoining woodcut it will be seen that a Nightjar is indeed a Fissirostral, or wide-gaping bird, and this large mouth is characteristic of the whole family. Their soft mottled plumage, their large eyes, and their habit of flying by night, have induced many naturalists to place them in close proximity to the Owls, with which family of birds, however, they have nothing further in common. Members of the family of Goatsuckers are distributed nearly all over the world, with the exception of the islands of Oceania, and a great difference is observable in their size and form, and to some extent in their habits. Thus the Guacharo, or Oil-bird (Steatornis[282] caripensis), is met with only in the island of Trinidad, where it is also called Diablotin, and where it inhabits the inmost recesses of caverns, either by the sea or inland. The birds spend the entire day in these dark recesses, and come out only at night to procure their food, which consists of the fruits of different palms, the seeds of which are rejected, and form, with the droppings of the birds, a thick flooring of guano in some of the caves. Sometimes the bird forms a huge cradle of this deposit, apparently for the greater security of its young ones; and one of these singular nests, if such they may be called, is exhibited in the British Museum. The nestlings become very fat, and are sometimes eaten, but according to M. LÉotand, in his work on the Birds of Trinidad, there is a certain odour about them which makes them unpalatable to the appetite of most people.

In India and in the Malayan Archipelago is found a group of Nightjars belonging to the genus Batrachostomus[283] popularly known as “Frog-mouths;” their place is taken in Australia and New Guinea by the giants of the family—the Podargi, examples of which are generally to be seen in the London Zoological Gardens. Of the Tawny-shouldered Podargus (P. strigoides[284]) Mr. Gould gives the following account:—“Like the rest of this genus, this species is strictly nocturnal, sleeping throughout the day on the dead branch of a tree, in an upright position across, and never parallel to, the branch, which it so nearly resembles as scarcely to be distinguished from it. I have occasionally seen it beneath the thick foliage of the CasuarinÆ, and I have been informed that it sometimes shelters itself in the hollow trunks of the Eucalypti, but I could never detect one in such a situation; I mostly found them in pairs, perched near each other on the branches of the gums, in situations not at all sheltered from the beams of the midday sun. So lethargic are its slumbers, that it is almost impossible to arouse it, and I have frequently shot one without disturbing its mate, sitting close by; it may also be knocked off with sticks or stones, and sometimes it is even taken with the hand. When aroused, it flies lazily off, with heavy flapping wings, to a neighbouring tree, and again resumes its slumbers until the approach of evening, when it becomes as animated and active as it had been previously dull and stupid. The stomach of one I dissected induced me to believe that it does not usually capture its prey while on the wing, or subsist on nocturnal insects alone, but that it is in the habit of creeping among the branches in search of such as are in a state of repose. The power it possesses of shifting the position of the outer toe backwards, as circumstances may require, is a very singular feature, and may also tend to assist them in their progress among the branches. A bird I shot at Yarrundi, in the middle of the night, had the stomach filled with fresh-captured Mantis and Locusts (PhasmidÆ and CicadÆ), which seldom move at night, and the latter of which are generally resting against the upright boles of the trees. In other specimens I found the remains of small Coleoptera, intermingled with the fibres of the roots of what appeared to be a parasitic plant, such as would be found in decayed and hollow trees. The whole contour of the bird shows that it is not formed for extensive flight or for performing those rapid evolutions that are necessary for the capture of its prey in the air: the wing being short and concave in comparison with those of the true aËrial Nightjars, and particularly with the Australian form, to which I have given the name of Eurostopodus.

“Of its mode of nidification I can speak with confidence, having seen many pairs breeding during my rambles in the woods. It makes a slightly-constructed flat nest of sticks, carelessly interwoven together, and placed at the fork of a horizontal branch of sufficient size to ensure its safety; the trees most frequently chosen are the Eucalypti, but I have occasionally seen the nest on an appletree (Angophora) or a swamp-oak (Casuarina). In every instance one of the birds was sitting on the eggs, and the other perched on a neighbouring bough, both invariably asleep. That the male participates in the duty of incubation I ascertained by having shot a bird on the nest, which, on dissection, proved to be a male. The eggs are generally two in number, of a beautiful immaculate white, and of a long oval form, one inch and ten lines in length by one inch and three lines in diameter.

“Like the other species of the genus, it is subject to considerable variation in its colouring, the young, which assume the adult livery at an early age, being somewhat darker in all their markings. In some a rich tawny colour predominates, while others are more grey. The night call of this species is a hoarse noise, consisting of two distinct sounds, which cannot correctly be described. The stomach is thick and muscular, and is lined with a hair-like substance, like that of the common Cuckoo.”

Mr. Waterton gives the following notes on Goatsuckers in his “Wanderings” (p. 139):—“When the sun has sunk in the western woods, no longer agitated by the breeze, when you can only see a straggler or two of the feathered tribe hastening to join its mate, already at its roosting-place, then it is that the Goatsucker comes out of the forest, where it has sat all day long in slumbering ease, unmindful of the gay and busy scenes around it. Its eyes are too delicately formed to bear the light, and thus it is forced to shun the flaming face of day, and wait in patience till night invites him to partake of the pleasures her dusky presence brings. The harmless, unoffending Goatsucker, from the time of Aristotle down to the present day, has been in disgrace with man. Father has handed it down to son, and author to author, that this nocturnal thief subsists by milking the flocks. Poor injured little bird of night, how sadly hast thou suffered, and how foul a stain has inattention to facts put upon thy character! Thou hast never robbed man of any part of his property, nor deprived the kid of a drop of milk.

“When the moon shines bright you may have a fair opportunity of examining the Goatsucker. You will see it close by the Cows, Goats, and Sheep, jumping up every now and then under their bellies. Approach a little nearer—he is not shy: ‘he fears no danger, for he knows no sin.’ See how the nocturnal flies are tormenting the herd, and with what dexterity he springs up and catches them as fast as they alight on the bellies, legs, and udders of the animals. Observe how quiet they stand, and how sensible they seem of his good offices, for they neither strike at him nor hit him with their tails, nor tread on him, nor try to drive him away as an uncivil intruder. Were you to dissect him and inspect his stomach, you would find no milk there. It is full of the flies which have been annoying the herd.

“The pretty mottled plumage of the Goatsucker, like that of the Owl, wants the lustre which is observed in the feathers of the birds of day. This at once marks him as a lover of the pale moon’s nightly beams. There are nine species here (Demerara); the largest appears nearly the size of the English Wood Owl. Its cry is so remarkable that, having once heard it, you will never forget it. When night reigns over these immeasurable wilds, whilst lying in your hammock, you will hear this Goatsucker lamenting like one in deep distress. A stranger would never conceive it to be the cry of a bird; he would say it was the departing voice of a midnight murdered victim, or the last wailing of Niobe for her poor children before she was turned into stone. Suppose yourself in hopeless sorrow, begin with a high loud note, and pronounce ‘Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!’ each note lower and lower, till the last is scarcely heard, pausing a moment or two betwixt every note, and you will have some idea of the moaning of the largest Goatsucker in Demerara. Four other species of the Goatsucker articulate some words so distinctly that they have received their names from the sentences they utter, and absolutely bewilder the stranger on his arrival in these parts. The most common one sits down close by your door, and flies, and alights three or four yards before you as you walk along the road, crying ‘Who are you, who-who-who-are-you.’ Another bids you ‘Work away, work-work-work-away.’ A third cries mournfully, ‘Willy-come-go, willy-willy-willy-come-go.’ And high up in the country a fourth tells you to ‘Whip-poor-will, whip-whip-whip-poor-will.’ You will never persuade the negro to destroy these birds, or get the Indian to let fly his arrows at them. They are birds of omen and reverential dread. Jumbo, the demon of Africa, has them under his command, and they equally obey the Yabahou, or Demeraran Indian Devil. They are receptacles for departed souls who come back again to earth, unable to rest for crimes done in their days of nature; or they are expressly sent by Jumbo or Yabahou to haunt cruel or hard-hearted monsters, and retaliate injuries received from them. If the largest Goatsucker chance to cry near the white man’s door, sorrow and grief will soon be inside; and they expect to see the master waste away with a slow consuming sickness. If it be heard close to the negro’s or Indian’s hut, from that night misfortune sits brooding over it, and they await the event in terrible suspense.”

The common Goatsucker, which is also popularly known as the “Fern Owl,” or “Nightjar,” visits England only in the spring, when it arrives from Southern Africa, and distributes itself over the country. It is by no means an uncommon bird, but is rarely seen, owing to its habit of coming out only at night, or at least in the twilight. They may then often be disturbed from the ground in a country road, when they take to flight in a heavy manner, often making a flapping noise, which appears to be caused by bringing the wings sharply together above the body of the bird. The call-note may be described as “churring,” and is disagreeable in sound; it is generally uttered by the Goatsucker when sitting on a low branch of a tree or on a railing. It should be mentioned that the CaprimulgidÆ do not, as a rule, sit crosswise on a branch, but always along the latter; their favourite haunt, however, is generally the ground, and it is supposed by some naturalists that the curious pectinated claw is used by the Goatsucker for scratching the ground. Dr. GÜnther, F.R.S., who kept one of these birds alive, says that it frequently used its comb-like claw for this purpose. Other people have thought that its claw was intended for clearing away the dÉbris of moths and other insects, which would clog the bristles on the bill. The true use of this comb-like appendage on the foot has not yet, however, been thoroughly determined.

These birds, with the Humming-birds, are separated from the other Fissirostral PicariÆ by many anatomical characters, the chief being the arrangement of the feather-tracts on the body, which are quite peculiar; the muscles are also unlike those of the other families, and hence these two groups are often divided off by modern naturalists under the name of Macrochires.[285]

THE COMMON SWIFT (Cypselus apus).[286]

In the beginning of May the Common Swift comes to Great Britain and the rest of Europe, after passing his winter sojourn in South Africa. He is one of the latest arrivals, as he comes only when summer has fairly begun and fine weather is pretty well assured; again, in autumn, he is almost the first of the summer migrants to take his departure, and the absence of the Swifts from their accustomed haunts is a sure sign of the approach of the fall of the year. So incumbent does this early migration seem to be upon the species, that the Swifts have been known to leave their young to perish of starvation rather than delay their departure if cold weather suddenly approaches. All birds appear to have at times a failure of instinct, and the Swift is no exception to the rule, for sometimes they are caught in some cold weather on their arrival, and it is not uncommon to find them benumbed with cold, and fluttering helplessly or even lying dead on the ground. In this latter position they are peculiarly helpless, their little legs being unable to raise them so as to give them the proper momentum to rise into the air again, while their long wings are much in the way, and only assist in their entire discomfiture. The home of the Swift, then, is in the air, and here his evolutions are most rapid, and performed with extreme quickness and yet with consummate ease. For his breeding home he often selects water-spouts on lofty buildings, such as the English cathedrals, or else places his nest under the roofs of houses, to the edge of which he is able to shuffle, and then to launch himself suddenly down, after which his course is easy. In the evening there is generally a little gathering of Swifts together, when they fly screaming round and round the buildings in which their nests have been placed, separating again for a few moments to rejoin in an excited flock, which passes with incredible swiftness and much noise round the edges of the towers or homesteads. When about to migrate, however, they are silent, and the flocks which may be seen coursing along the sides of the downs in the southern counties of England in August utter no sound, as if impressed with the gravity of the long journey they are about to undertake.

Macgillivray describes the nest of the Common Swift as follows:—“It is very rudely constructed, flattened, about six inches in diameter and half an inch thick; composed of particles of Aira cÆspitosa, straws of oats, wheat, and grasses, intermixed with fibrous roots, moss, wool, cotton, hair, and feathers of the domestic fowl, partridge, and rook. These materials are confusedly felted and agglutinated, the glueing matter being of a gelatinous, not of a resinous, nature, and in extremely thin shreds, which crackle, but do not readily burn, when flame is applied to them. There is, however, a small quantity of the membranous scales of the Scotch fir, together with some resinous matter, in one of these nests.” The eggs are generally two in number, of a long oval shape, and entirely white.

Swifts appear to be found all over the world, the most graceful being perhaps the Tree Swifts (Dendrochelidon), which inhabit India and the Malayan region. In this same part of the world are also found the Edible-nest Swiftlets (Collocalia), which breed in caves, their nests being eaten by the Chinese and other Asiatic people. Dr. Jerdon says:—“The nest, when pure and of the first make, is composed entirely of inspissated mucus from the large salivary glands of the bird. It is very small, bluntly triangular in form, and slightly concave within; of a semi-transparent, fibrous sort of texture, bluish-white in colour, and with the fibres, as it were, crossed and interlaced. When the nests of the first make are taken away, the second nests are mixed with feathers, and occasionally other foreign substances. The eggs are two in number, and pure white.” Mr. E. L. Layard gives the following account of a visit to a cave inhabited by the Indian Swiftlet in Ceylon:—“I have at last visited the cave in which Collocalia nidifica[287] builds, and will now, with the aid of my journal, give all the information I can, sending you birds skinned and in spirit, and a young nestling taken from the nest with my own hand. The cave is situated at a place called Havissay, about thirty-five miles from the sea and twenty from the river, and about 500 feet up a fine wood-clad hill, called Diagallagoolawa, or Hoonoomooloocota. Its dimensions are as follows:—Length between fifty and sixty feet, about twenty-six broad, and twenty high. It is a mass of limestone rock, which has cracked off the hill-side, and slipped down on to some boulders below its original position, forming a hollow triangle. There are three entrances to the cave; one at each end, and one very small one in the centre. The floor consists of large boulders, covered to the depth of two or three inches with the droppings of the birds, old and young, and the bits of grass they bring in to fabricate their nests. The only light which penetrates the cavern from the entrances above mentioned is very dim. When my eyes, however, got accustomed to the light, I could see many hundreds of nests glued to the side of the fallen rock, but none to the other side, or hill itself. This I attribute to the fact of the face of the main rock being evidently subject to the influence of the weather, and perhaps to the heavy dews off the trees; but for this, the side in question would have been far more convenient for the birds to have built on, as it sloped gently outward, whereas the other was much overhung, and caused the birds to build their nests of an awkward shape, besides taking up more substance. I was at the spot a few days before Christmas, and fancy that must be about the time to see the nests in perfection. This is corroborated by the fact of my finding young birds in all the nests taken by me, and by what the old Chinaman said, that the ‘take’ came on in October. I find that they have three different qualities of nests, and send two for your inspection. The best is very clean, white as snow, and thin, and is also very expensive. The most inferior are composed of dry grasses, hair, &c., but I could not detect anything like the bloody secretion, as described (‘though only under peculiar circumstances of exhaustion’) by Mr. Barbe, even in a fresh nest. I was in the cave late (after 5 P.M.) in the evening of a day which threatened rain, but the old birds were still flying round the summit of the mountain at a vast altitude, occasionally dashing down into the cave with food for their nestlings. By daylight next morning I was on foot, but the birds were before me, hawking on the plain below and all about the hills. I have found the birds here, in Colombo, in Kandy, and all along the road we went. I could learn nothing of the number of eggs laid, nor of their colour. I found one bird in each nest. The Chinese who live on the spot pretend not to understand anything asked them, and the apathetic Cingalese have never taken the trouble to see for themselves, so they could give me no information. The aspect of the country, broken and rugged, coupled with the numerous flocks of birds I saw flying round the various hills, leads me to think there must be many breeding-places yet undiscovered. One, however, was pointed out, but we had not time to visit it. I could not hear of any other kind of Swift breeding there, but have just received such information as leads me to suppose that C. fuciphaga builds near Jaffna on some rocks overhanging the sea. I may further add that there were no Bats in the cave with C. nidifica, nor did I see any bird of prey, save a fine HÆmatornis, which I shot. The Cingalese name for C. nidifica is WahlÆna.”

These exquisite little creatures are perhaps the largest family of birds known, numbering, at the present day, nearly five hundred species. It is simply impossible in a work like the present to do more than allude to a family, the full description of which by Mr. Gould has occupied five large folio volumes. An immense variety of form and colour is presented to us. All the birds are of small size, some of them being no larger than Hawk-moths, to which in their manner of flight they bear considerable resemblance.

In some countries Humming-birds are tolerably common, but some species are of extreme rarity, such, for instance, as the Loddigesia mirabilis, which was discovered forty years ago, and still remains represented by a single specimen in the collection of the late Mr. George Loddiges, and of which a reward of fifty pounds, offered by Mr. Gould, has not succeeded in obtaining a second example. As a rule, Humming-birds are a Neotropical family, that is to say, the vast majority of the species occur in South America, and do not wander above the line of Northern Mexico; but a few species are found in the Southern United States, while one occurs in summer even in North America, ranging as far as, and even breeding in, Canada. Professor Newton writes:—“Wilson, Audubon, Mr. Gosse, and several others gifted with the ‘pen of a ready writer,’ have so fully described, as far as words will admit, the habits of different members of the family TrochilidÆ, that it is unnecessary to say much on this score. Their appearance is so entirely unlike that of any other birds that it is hopeless to attempt in any way to bring a just conception of it to the ideas of those who have not crossed the Atlantic; and even the comparison so often made between them and the SphingidÆ, though doubtless in the main true, is much to the advantage of the latter. One is admiring the clustering stars of a scarlet Cordia, the snowy cornucopias of a Portlandia, or some other brilliant and beautiful flower, when between the blossoms and one’s eye suddenly appears a small dark object, suspended as it were between four short black threads meeting each other in a cross. For an instant it shows in front of the flower; an instant more it steadies itself, and one perceives the space between each pair of threads occupied by a grey film; again another instant, and, emitting a momentary flash of emerald and sapphire light, it is vanishing, lessening in the distance as it shoots away, to a speck that the eye cannot take note of—and all this so rapidly that the word on one’s lips is still unspoken, scarcely the thought in one’s mind changed. It was a bold man or an ignorant one who first ventured to depict Humming birds flying; but it cannot be denied that representations of them are often of special use to the ornithologist. The peculiar action of one, and probably of many or all other species of the family, is such, that at times in flying it makes the wings almost meet, both in front and behind, at each vibration. Thus, when a bird chances to enter a room it will generally go buzzing along the cornice. Standing beneath where it is, one will find that the axis of the body is vertical, and each wing is describing a nearly perfect semicircle. As might be expected, the pectoral muscles are very large; indeed, the sternum of this bird is a good deal bigger than that of the common Chimney Swallow (Hirundo rustica). But the extraordinary rapidity with which the vibrations are effected seems to be chiefly caused by these powerful muscles acting on the very short wingbones, which are not half the length of the same parts in the Swallow; and accordingly, great as this alar action is, and in spite of the contrary opinion entertained by Mr. Gosse, it is yet sometimes wanting in power, owing, doubtless, to the disadvantageous leverage thus obtained; and the old authors must be credited who speak of cobwebs catching Humming birds. On the 3rd of May, 1857, a bird of this species flew into the room where I was sitting, and after fluttering for some minutes against the ceiling, came in contact with a deserted spider’s web, in which it got entangled, and remained suspended and perfectly helpless for more than a minute, when by a violent effort it freed itself. I soon after caught it, still having fragments of the web on its head, neck, and wings; and I feel pretty sure, that had this web been inhabited and in good repair, instead of being deserted and dilapidated, the bird would never have escaped.”

Mr. A. R. Wallace has written the following account of the habits of Humming birds on the River Amazon:—“The greater number of species that frequent flowers do so, I am convinced, for the small insects found there, and not for the nectar. In dozens, and perhaps hundreds, of common flower-frequenting species which I have examined, the crop, stomach, and intestines have been filled with minute beetles, ants, and spiders, which abound in most flowers in South America. Very rarely indeed have I found a trace of honey or of any liquid in the crop or stomach. The flowers they most frequent are the various species of Inga and the papilionaceous flowers of many large forest trees. I have never seen them at the bignonias, or any flowers but those which grow in large masses, covering a whole tree or shrub, as they visit perhaps a hundred flowers in a minute and never stop at a single one. The little Emerald Hummer I have seen in gardens and at the common orange (Asclepias), which often covers large spaces of waste ground in the tropics. But there are many, such as PhaËthornis eremita and some larger allied species, which I have never seen at flowers. These inhabit the gloomy forest-shades, where they dart about among the foliage; and I have distinctly observed them visit in rapid succession every leaf on a branch, balancing themselves vertically in the air, passing their beak closely over the under surface of each leaf, and thus capturing, no doubt, any small insects that may be upon them. While doing this, the two long feathers of the tail have a vibrating motion, apparently serving as a rudder to assist them in performing the delicate operation. I have seen others searching up and down stems and dead sticks in the same manner, every now and then picking off something, exactly as a Bush Shrike or Tree Creeper does, with this exception, that the Humming-bird is continually on the wing. They also capture insects in the true Fissirostral fashion. How often may they be seen perched on the dead twig of a lofty tree—the station that is chosen by the tyrant Flycatchers and the Jacamars—from which, like those birds, they dart off a short distance, and after a few whirls and balancings return to the identical twig they had left. In the evening, too, just after sunset, when the Goatsuckers are beginning their search after insects over the rivers, I have seen Humming birds come out of the forest and remain a long time on the wing—now stationary, now darting about with the greatest rapidity, imitating in a limited space the evolutions of their companions the Goatsuckers, and evidently for the same end and purpose.”

Wilson, the poet-naturalist, observes of the North American species as follows:—“Nature in every department of her works seems to delight in variety, and the present subject is almost as singular for its minuteness, beauty, want of song, and manner of feeding, as the Mocking Bird is for unrivalled excellence of note and plainness of plumage. This is one of the few birds that are universally beloved, and amidst the sweet dewy serenity of a summer’s morning his appearance amongst the arbours of honeysuckles and beds of flowers is truly interesting.

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