BIRD-LIFE.

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"Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them."—Matthew vi. 26.

"Free tenants of land, air, and ocean,
Their forms all symmetry, their motions grace;
In plumage delicate and beautiful,
Thick without burthen, close as fishes' scales,
Or loose as full-blown poppies on the gales;
With wings that seem as they'd a soul within them,
They bear their owners with such sweet enchantment."
James Montgomery.
Letter B

BIRDS, as regards structure, are perhaps the most perfectly endowed, as they are certainly the most beautiful and interesting, of all the lower animals. In Birds there is an admirable mechanism and adaptation both for gliding in the air and swimming in the water. They surpass all other animals in the faculty of continuing their motion without resting, as well as in its rapidity. The fleetest courser can scarcely ever run more than a mile in a minute, nor support that speed beyond five or six such exertions. But the joyous Swallow does this tenfold for pleasure. In his usual way he flies at the rate of one mile in a minute; and Wilson, the ornithologist, ascertained that the Swallow is so engaged for ten hours every day. So can the Blue-bird of America, for a space of 600 miles. Our Carrier-pigeons move with half that celerity: one flew from Liskeard to London, 220 miles, in six hours. The Golden Eagle is supposed to dart through the fiercest storm at the rate of 160 miles an hour; but one of our smallest Birds, the Swift, can even quadruple the most excited quickness of the race-horse for a distance. Spallanzani thought that the little Swift travelled at the rate of 250 miles an hour.

Inquiries into the phenomena of the flight of Birds would lead us far beyond our limits. The subject is beset with error. Thus, we read:—"Every one has remarked the manner in which Birds of prey float, as it were, without any effort, and with steady expanded wings, at great heights in the atmosphere. This they are enabled to do from the quantity of air contained in the air-cells of their bodies, which air being taken in at a low level in the atmosphere, of course rarefies and expands as the Bird ascends into higher regions. Their rapidity of descent must be accomplished by the sudden expulsion of this air, aided by their muscular efforts."

Now, Dr. Crisp has read to the Zoological Society a paper "On the Presence or Absence of Air in the Bones of Birds," for the purpose of showing the prevailing error upon the subject—viz., "that the bones of the Bird are filled with air." Of fifty-two British Birds recently dissected by him, only one, the Sparrow-hawk, had the bones generally perforated for the admission of air. In thirteen others, the humeri only were hollow, and among these were several Birds of short flight. In the remaining thirty-eight, neither the humeri nor femora contained air, although in this list were several Birds of passage and of rapid flight—Dr. Crisp's conclusion being, that the majority of British Birds have no air in their bones, and that, with the exception of the Falcons, but very few British Birds have hollow femora.

Mr. Gould records a most remarkable instance of rapid and sustained flight, which he witnessed on his return from North America, whither he had proceeded for the purpose of studying the habits and manners of the species of Trochilus (Humming Bird), frequenting that portion of America. Having remarked that he arrived just prior to the period of the migration of this Bird from Mexico to the north, and had ample opportunities for observing it in a state of nature, he noticed that its actions were very peculiar, and quite different from those of all other birds: the flight is performed by a motion of the wings so rapid as to be almost imperceptible; indeed, the muscular power of this little creature appears to be very great in every respect, as, independently of its rapid and sustained flight, it grasps the small twigs, flowers, &c., upon which it alights with the utmost tenacity. It appears to be most active in the morning and evening, and to pass the middle of the day in a state of sleepy torpor. Occasionally it occurs in such numbers that fifty or sixty birds may be seen in a single tree. When captured it so speedily becomes tame that it will feed from the hand or mouth within half an hour. Mr. Gould having been successful in keeping a Humming-Bird alive in a gauze bag attached to his breast button for three days, during which it readily fed from a bottle filled with a syrup of brown sugar and water, he determined to make an attempt to bring some living examples to England, in which he succeeded; but unfortunately they did not long survive their arrival.

The adaptation of colour in Birds to their haunts strikingly tends to their preservation. The small Birds which frequent hedges have backs of a brownish or brownish-green hue; and their bellies are generally whitish, or light-coloured, so as to harmonize with the sky. Thus, they become less visible to the hawk or cat that passes above or below them. The wayfarer across the fields also treads upon the Skylark before he sees it warbling to heaven's gate. The Goldfinch or Thistlefinch passes much of its time among flowers, and is vividly coloured accordingly. The Partridge can hardly be distinguished from the fallow or stubble among which it crouches; and it is considered an accomplishment among sportsmen to have a good eye for finding a Hare sitting. In northern countries the winter dress of the Hares and Ptarmigans is white, to prevent detection among the snows of those inclement regions.

The Song of Birds is popularly explained by the author of a work, entitled, "The Music of Nature," in which he illustrates the vocal machinery of Birds as follows:—"It is difficult to account for so small a creature as a Bird making a tone as loud as some animal a thousand times its size; but a recent discovery shows that in birds the lungs have several openings communicating with corresponding air-bags or cells, which fill the whole cavity of the body from the neck downward, and into which the air passes and repasses in the progress of breathing. This is not all. The very bones are hollow, from which air-pipes are conveyed to the most solid parts of the body, even into the quills and feathers. The air being rarefied by the heat of their body, adds to their levity. By forcing the air out of their body, they can dart down from the greatest heights with astonishing velocity. No doubt the same machinery forms the basis of their vocal powers, and at once resolves the mystery into a natural ordering of parts." This is a very pretty story; but, unfortunately, it is not correct, as already shown.

A correspondent of the "AthenÆum," writing in 1866, says:—"He would be a bold man who should say that Birds have no delight in their own songs. I have been led to conclude from experiments which I have made, and from other observations, that certain animals, especially Birds, have not only an ear for fine sounds, but also a preference for the things they see out of respect to fine colours or other pleasing external features. It is chiefly among Birds, when we consider the case of animals, that a taste for ornament and for glittering objects, often very startling and human-like, is to be found. The habits of the Pheasant, Peacock, Turkey, Bird of Paradise, several Birds of the Pigeon and Crow kind, and certain Singing Birds, are evidence. The Australian Satin Bower-Bird is the most remarkable of that class which exhibit taste for beauty or for glittering objects out of themselves—that is, beauty not directly personal; collecting, in fact, little museums of shells, gaudy feathers, shining glass, or bits of coloured cloth or pottery. It will be found with many Birds that fine plumes, a mirror, and an admirer, are not altogether objects devoid of interest.

"Another consideration leading me to the same conclusion, is the fact, that beauty in animals is placed on prominent parts, or on parts which by erection or expansion are easily, and at the pairing season, frequently rendered prominent, such as a crest or tail. A spangle of ruby or emerald does not exist, for instance, on the side under the wing, which is seldom raised, of our domestic poultry. Such jewels are hung where man himself wears his, on the face and forehead, or court attention, like our own crowns, trains, shoulder-knots, breast-knots, painted cheeks, or jewelled ears. I cannot account for the existence of these gaudy ornaments to please man, for nowhere are they more gorgeous than in Birds which live in the depth of the tropical forest, where man is rarely a visitor; I cannot account for them on the principle that they do good to their possessors in the battle for life, because they rather render them conspicuous to their enemies, or coveted by man." But the beauty of these beings glows most brightly at the season of their pairing, and the selection of their mates.

Baron von Tschudi, the Swiss naturalist, has shown the important services of Birds in the destruction of insects. Without Birds, no agriculture or vegetation would be possible. They accomplish in a few months the profitable work of destruction which millions of human hands could not do half so well in as many years; and the sage, therefore, blamed in very severe terms the foolish practice of shooting and destroying Birds, which prevails more especially in Italy, recommending, on the contrary, the process of alluring Birds into gardens and corn-fields. Among the most deserving Birds he counts Swallows, Finches. Titmice, Redtails, &c. The naturalist then cites numerous instances in support of his assertion. In a flower-garden of one of his neighbours three rose-trees had been suddenly covered with about 2,000 tree-lice. At his recommendation a Marsh-Titmouse was located in the garden, which in a few hours consumed the whole brood, and left the roses perfectly clean. A Redtail in a room was observed to catch about 900 flies in an hour. A couple of Night-Swallows have been known to destroy a whole swarm of gnats in fifteen minutes. A pair of Golden-crested Wrens carry insects as food to their nestlings upon an average thirty-six times in an hour. For the protection of orchards and woods Titmice are of invaluable service. They consume, in particular, the eggs of the dangerous pine-spiders. One single female of such spiders frequently lays from 600 to 800 eggs twice in the summer season, while a Titmouse with her young ones consume daily several thousands of them. Wrens, Nuthatches, and Woodpeckers often dexterously fetch from the crevices of tree-bark numbers of insects for their nestlings.

Yet, profitless and wanton Bird-murder is common. The cliffs on the coasts of these islands are the resort of numerous kinds of Sea-Fowl, and these Fowl, we are told, are slaughtered by thousands, not merely for the sake of their feathers, but actually for the mere savage pleasure of killing. What speculation can enter into such a proceeding it may puzzle the reader to imagine; but it seems that the wing feathers of the poor White Gull are now inquired for in the plume-trade, and we are actually told of an order given by a single house for 10,000 of these unhappy Birds. When these facts were stated at the Meeting of the British Association, in August, 1868, at Norwich, a lady stood up boldly in defence of her sex, and declared that they sinned only through ignorance, and would never willingly wear the feathers of a Bird destroyed in the act of feeding its young. That part of the case, therefore, ought to be now in safe hands. In the Isle of Man a law has been passed, called the "Seagull Preservation Act," protecting these Birds by heavy penalties, on the ground of their utility in removing fish offal and guiding fishermen to shoals of fish. At a certain point of our shores a similar protection has been established. A visitor to the South Stack Lighthouse, on the coast of Anglesey, may see prodigious numbers of Sea-Fowl as tame as complete safety can make them. It has been ascertained that in thick weather, when neither light can be distinguished nor signal seen, the incessant scream of these Birds gives the best of all warnings to the mariner of the vicinity of the rock. The noise they make can be heard at a greater distance than the tolling of the great bell; and so valuable was this danger-signal considered, that an order from the Trinity House forbad even the firing of the warning gun, lest the colony of the Sea-Fowl should be disturbed. The signals of the bell and the cannon might be neglected or overpowered, but the Birds were always there and always audible.

It is inferred that Birds possess some notion of power, and of cause and effect, from the various actions which they perform. "Thus," relates Dr. Fleming, "we have seen the Hooded Crow in Zetland, when feeding on small shell-fish, able to break some of the tenderer kinds by means of its bill, aided in some cases by beating them against a stone; but, as some of the larger shells, such as the buckie and the welk, cannot be broken by such means, the Crow employs another method, by which, in consequence of applying foreign power, it accomplishes its object. Seizing the shell with its claws, it mounts up into the air, and then loosing its hold, causes the shell to fall among stones (in preference to the sand, the water, or the soil on the ground), that it may be broken, and give easier access to the contained animal. Should the first attempt fail, a second or third is tried, with this difference, that the Crow rises higher in the air, in order to increase the power of the fall, and more effectually remove the barrier to the contained morsel. On such occasions we have seen a strong Bird remain an apparently inattentive spectator of the process of breaking the shell, but coming to the spot with astonishing keenness when the efforts of its neighbour had been successful, in order to share the spoil. Pennant mentions similar operations performed by Crows on mussels."

The brain of Birds is, in general, large in proportion to the size of the body, and the instinctive powers are very perfect. A few kinds are rather dull and stupid; but the Parrot, Magpie, Raven, and many others, show great vivacity and quickness of intellect. The Raven has a great deal of humour in him. One, a most amusing and mischievous creature, would get into a well-stocked flower-garden, go to the beds where the gardener had sowed a great variety of seeds, with sticks put in the ground with labels, and then he would amuse himself with pulling up every stick, and laying them in heaps of ten or twelve on the path. This used to irritate the old gardener, who drove him away. The Raven knew that he ought not to do it, or he would not have done it. He would soon return to his mischief, and when the gardener again chased him (the old man could not run very fast), the Raven would just keep clear of the rake or the hoe in his hand, dancing before him, and singing as plainly as a Raven could. "Tol de rol de rol! tol de rol de rol!" with all kinds of mimicking gestures.

The signal of danger among Birds seems to be of universal comprehension; because the instant it is uttered we hear the whole flock, though composed of various species, repeat a separate moan, and away they all scuttle into the bushes for safety. The sentinel Birds give the signal, but in some cases they are deceived by false appearances. Dr. Edmonstone, in his "View of the Zetland Isles," relates a very striking illustration of the neglect of the sentinel, in his remarks on the Shag. "Great numbers of this species of the Cormorant are sometimes taken during the night, while asleep on the rocks of easy access; but before they commit themselves to sleep, one or two of the number are appointed to watch. Until these sentinels are secured, it is impossible to make a successful impression on the whole body; to surprise them is, therefore, the first object. With this view, the leader of the expedition creeps cautiously and imperceptibly along the rock, until he gets within a short distance of the watch. He then dips a worsted glove into the sea, and gently throws water in the face of the guard. The unsuspecting Bird, either disliking the impression, or fancying, from what he considers to be a disagreeable state of the weather, that all is quiet and safe, puts his head under his wing and soon falls asleep. His neck is then immediately broken, and the party dispatch as many as they choose."

Addison was a true lover of nature, which he shows in two letters written by him to the Earl of Warwick (afterwards his son-in-law), when that nobleman was very young. "My dear Lord," he writes, "I have employed the whole neighbourhood in looking after Birds'-nests, and not altogether without success. My man found one last night, but it proved a hen's, with fifteen eggs in it, covered with an old broody Duck, which may satisfy your Lordship's curiosity a little; though I am afraid the eggs will be of little use to us. This morning I have news brought me of a nest that has abundance of little eggs, streaked with red and blue veins, that, by the description they give me, must make a very beautiful figure in a string. My neighbours are very much divided in their opinions upon them: some say they are a Skylark's; others will have them to be a Canary-Bird's; but I am much mistaken in the colour and turn of the eggs if they are not full of Tomtit's." Again, Addison writes:—"Since I am so near your Lordship, methinks, after having passed the day amid more severe studies, you may often take a trip hither and relax yourself with these little curiosities of nature. I assure you no less a man than Cicero commends the two great friends of his age, Scipio and LÆlius, for entertaining themselves at their country-house, which stood on the sea-shore, with picking up cockle-shells, and looking after Birds'-nests."

In another letter Addison writes:—"The business of this is to invite you to a concert of music which I have found out in a neighbouring wood. It begins precisely at six in the evening, and consists of a Blackbird, a Thrush, a Robin-Redbreast, and a Bullfinch. There is a Lark, that, by way of overture, sings and mounts till she is almost out of hearing; and afterwards, falling down leisurely, drops to the ground as soon as she has ended her song. The whole is concluded by a Nightingale, that has a much better voice than Mrs. Tofts, and something of the Italian manner in her divisions. If your Lordship will honour me with your company, I will promise to entertain you with much better music, and more agreeable scenes, than you ever met with at the Opera; and will conclude with a charming description of a Nightingale out of our friend Virgil:—

"'So close, in poplar shades, her children gone,
The mother Nightingale laments alone;
Whose nest some prying churl had found, and thence
By stealth convey'd the unfeathered innocence:
But she supplies the night with mournful strains,
And melancholy music fills the plains.'"

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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