The instincts of birds are no less varied in relation to their food. The “Caprimulgus,” or goat-milker, is the name of a bird, which is to all appearance a large blackbird; it thieves by night, as it cannot see during the day. It enters the folds of the shepherds, and makes straight for the udder of the she-goat, to suck the milk. Through the injury thus inflicted the udder shrivels away, and the goat that has been thus deprived of its milk, is afflicted with incipient blindness.

“Platea,” or spoon-bill, is the name of another, which pounces upon other birds when they have dived in the sea, and, seizing the head with its bill, makes them let go their prey. This bird will swallow and fill itself with shell-fish, shells and all, and after the natural heat of its crop has softened them, it will bring them up again, pick out the shells from the rest, and choose the parts that are fit for food.

The farm-yard fowls have a certain notion of religion; upon laying an egg they shudder all over, and then shake their feathers; after which they turn round and purify[179] themselves, or else hallow[180] themselves and their eggs with some stalk or other. The carduelis, which is the very smallest bird of any, will do what it is bid, not only with the voice but with the feet as well, and with the beak, which serves it instead of hands. There is one small bird, found in the territory of Arelate, that imitates the lowing of oxen, from which circumstance it has received the name of “taurus.” Another, called the anthus, imitates the neighing of the horse; upon being driven from the pasture by the approach of the horses, it will mimic their voices—taking this method of revenging itself.

But remarkable as it may seem, there are some birds that can imitate the human voice; the parrot, for instance, can even converse. India sends us this bird, which it calls by the name of “sittaces;” the body is green all over, except a ring of red around the neck. It will formally salute an emperor, and pronounce the words it has heard spoken; it is rendered especially frolicsome under the influence of wine. Its head is as hard as its beak; and this, when it is being taught to talk, is beaten with a rod of iron, for otherwise it is quite insensible to blows. When it lights on the ground it falls upon its beak, and by resting upon it makes itself all the lighter for its feet, which are naturally weak.

The magpie is much less famous for its talking qualities than the parrot, because it does not come from a distance, and yet it can speak with much more distinctness. These birds love to hear words spoken which they can utter; and not only do they learn them, but are pleased at the task; and as they con them over to themselves with the greatest care and attention, make no secret of the interest they feel. It is a well-known fact, that a magpie has died before now, when it has found itself mastered by a difficult word that it could not pronounce. Their memory, however, will fail them if they do not from time to time hear the same word repeated; and while they are trying to recollect it, they will show the most extravagant joy, if they happen to hear it. Their appearance, although there is nothing remarkable in it, is by no means plain; but they have quite enough in the way of attractions in their singular ability to imitate human speech.

Only that kind of pie[181] which feeds upon acorns can be taught to speak; and among these, those which have five toes on each foot[182] can be taught with the greatest facility; but even in their case only during the first two years of their life. The magpie has a broad tongue, as do all the birds that can imitate the human voice; although some individuals of almost every kind have the faculty of doing so.

Agrippina, the wife of Claudius CÆsar, had a thrush that could imitate human speech, a thing that was never known before. At the moment that I am writing this, the young CÆsars[183] have a starling and some nightingales that are being taught to talk in Greek and Latin; besides which, they are studying their task the whole day, continually repeating the new words that they have learnt, and giving utterance to phrases of considerable length. Birds are taught to talk in a retired spot, where no other voice can be heard, so as to interfere with their lesson; a person sits by them, and continually repeats the words he wishes them to learn, while at the same time he encourages them by giving them food.

Let us do justice to the raven, whose merits have been attested not only by the kindlier sentiments of the Roman people, but also by the strong expression of their indignation. In the reign of Tiberius, one of a brood of ravens that had bred on the top of the temple of Castor, happened to fly into a shoemaker’s shop that stood opposite: upon which, from a feeling of religious veneration, it was looked upon as doubly recommended by the owner of the place. The bird, having been taught to speak at an early age, used every morning to fly to the Rostra, which look towards the Forum; here, addressing each by his name, it would salute Tiberius, and then the CÆsars[184] Germanicus and Drusus, after which it would proceed to greet the Roman populace as they passed, and then return to the shop: for several years it was remarkable for the constancy of its attendance. The owner of another shoemaker’s shop in the neighborhood, in a sudden fit of anger killed the bird, enraged, as he would have had it appear, because it had soiled some shoes of his. Upon this, such rage was manifested by the multitude, that he was at once driven from that part of the city, and soon after put to death. The funeral, too, of the bird was celebrated with almost endless obsequies; the body was placed upon a litter carried upon the shoulders of two Æthiopians, preceded by a piper, and borne to the pile with garlands of every size and description. The pile was erected on the right-hand side of the Appian Way, at the second milestone from the City, in the field generally known as the “field of Rediculus.”[185] Thus did the rare talent of a bird appear a sufficient ground to the Roman people for honoring it with funeral obsequies, as well as for inflicting punishment on a Roman citizen. No such crowds ever escorted the funeral of any one out of the whole number of its distinguished men.

At the present day, there is in the city of Rome a crow which belongs to a Roman of equestrian rank, and was brought from BÆtica. It is remarkable for its color, which is of the deepest black, and is able to pronounce several connected words, while repeatedly learning fresh ones. Recently, too, there has been a story told about Craterus of Erizena in Asia, who was in the habit of hunting with the assistance of ravens, and used to carry them into the woods, perched on the tuft of his helmet and on his shoulders. The birds used to keep on the watch for game, and raise it; and by training he had brought this art to such a pitch of perfection, that even the wild ravens would attend him in a similar manner when he went out. Some authors have thought the following circumstance deserving of remembrance:—A crow that was thirsty was seen heaping stones into the urn on a monument, in which there was some rain-water which it could not reach: by thus accumulating the stones, it raised the level of the water till it came within its reach.

I must not pass by the birds of Diomedes in silence. Juba calls them “cataractÆ,” and says that they have teeth and eyes of a fiery color, while the rest of the body is white: they always have two chiefs, the one to lead the main body, the other to take charge of the rear, they excavate holes with their bills, and then cover them with hurdles, which they cover again with the earth that has been thus thrown up; in these places they hatch their young; each of these holes has two outlets—one of them looking towards the east, by which they go forth to feed, returning by the one which looks towards the west. In one only spot throughout the whole earth are these birds to be seen—in the island which is famous for the tomb and shrine of Diomedes, lying over against the coast of Apulia: they bear a strong resemblance to the coot. When strangers who are barbarians arrive on that island, they pursue them with loud and clamorous cries, and only show courtesy to Greeks by birth; seeming thereby, with a wonderful discernment, to pay respect to them as the fellow-countrymen of Diomedes. Every day they fill their throats, and cover their feathers, with water, and so wash and purify the temple there. From this circumstance arises the fable that the companions of Diomedes were metamorphosed into these birds.

We ought not to omit, while we are speaking of instincts, that among birds the swallow[186] is quite incapable of being taught, and among land animals the mouse; while on the other hand, the elephant does what it is ordered, the lion submits to the yoke, and the sea-calf and many kinds of fishes are capable of being tamed.

Birds drink by suction; those which have a long neck taking their drink in a succession of draughts, and throwing the head back, as though they were pouring the water down the throat. The porphyrio is the only bird that seems to bite at the water as it drinks. The same bird has also other peculiarities of its own; for it will every now and then dip its food in the water, and then lift it with its foot to its bill, using it as a hand. Those that are the most esteemed are found in Commagene. They have beaks and very long red legs.

All the heavy birds are frugivorous; while those with a higher flight feed upon flesh only. Among the aquatic birds, the divers are in the habit of devouring what the other birds have disgorged.

The pelican is similar in appearance to the swan, and nobody would imagine there was any difference between them, were it not for the fact that under the throat there is a sort of second crop. In this the ever-insatiate animal stows everything away, till the capacity of this pouch is quite astonishing. Having finished its search for prey, it discharges bit by bit what it has thus stowed away, and reconveys it by a sort of ruminating process into its real stomach. The part of Gallia that lies nearest to the Northern Ocean produces this bird.

We hear of a singular kind of bird in the Hercynian Forest, in Germany, the feathers of which shine at night like fire; the other birds there have nothing remarkable beyond the celebrity which generally attaches to objects situated at a distance.

During the civil wars that took place at Bebriacum, beyond the river Padus, the “new birds” were introduced into Italy—for by that name they are still known. They resemble the thrush in appearance, are a little smaller than the pigeon in size, and of an agreeable flavor. The Balearic islands also send us a porphyrio or flamingo, as well as the buteo, a kind of hawk, held in high esteem for the table, and the vipio, the name given to a small kind of crane.

I look upon the birds as fabulous which are called “pegasi,” and are said to have a horse’s head; as also the griffons, with long ears and a hooked beak. The same is my opinion, also, as to the tragopan; many writers, however, assert that it is larger than the eagle, has curved horns on the temples, and a plumage of iron color, with the exception of the head, which is purple. Nor do the sirens obtain any greater credit with me, although Dinon, the father of Clearchus, a celebrated writer, asserts that they exist in India, and that they charm men by their song, and, having first lulled them to sleep, tear them to pieces. The person, however, who may think fit to believe in these tales, may probably not refuse to believe also that dragons licked the ears of Melampodes, and bestowed upon him the power of understanding the language of birds; or what Democritus says, when he gives the names of certain birds, by the mixture of whose blood a serpent is produced, the person who eats of which will be able to understand the language of birds; as well as the statements which the same writer makes relative to one bird in particular, known as the “galerita,” or crested lark—indeed, the science of augury is already too much involved in embarrassing questions, without these fanciful reveries.