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/
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 —

CONTENTS.

THE NEST.

Activity ofSpring— The Golden- crested Wren — Variety of Nests—The

Robin — The Partridge — The Ostrich — The Golden Eagle — The Wood
Pigeon —The Window Swallow —The Sand Martin —The Burrowing Owl
The Thrush — The Woodpecker —The Common Wren —The Ruby- throated
Humming Bird—The Raven — The Jay —The Swallow — The Long-tailed
Titmouse —The Rook — Lesson of Humility— The Esculent Swallow—The
Tailor Bird—The Sedge Warbler— The Fantail Warbler—The Reed Wren

— The Philippine Weaver Bird — The Bottle-nested Sparrow—The Sociable

Grosbeak —The Capocier— The Oriole.

THE EGG.

The God of Providence — The — The Hoopoe—The Egg-tube

Egg-organ
—Variety in Eggs— Colour — Form of an Egg— Internal structure
of Eggs
of an Egg — The Corn-bunting —The Wrens — Hatching of Eggs — Egypt-

ian Ovens — Reaumur’s Experiments — The Eccaleobion— The Pelican’s

Nest—The Wood Warbler — Changes during Incubation — Escape of the
Young Bird— Shells of Birds’ Eggs — Parental Care — Creation and Re-
demption.
 —

VI CONTENTS.

THE FEATHER.

“ Nothing withoutGod” — Downy covering of a Bird— Mould of a Fea-

— Growth of a Feather—The full-grown Feather— Fibres of a Feather
ther

—The part wanted first produced — Head and neck of the Vulture-
first

Feathers of the Peacock — Water Birds— Colours of Feathers —Variety of

Feathers— Colours of Male and Female Birds — Birds of Cold Regions
Colours for Concealment — White Feathers of the Bee-eater— Covering of
Black Down — The Wings of a Bird — Flight of Birds — Plumage of the Owl
—The Humming Bird — The Swift— The Frigate Bird.

THE SONG BIRD.

Variety of Tones and Qualities in the Voice of the Feathered Tribes

Simplicity of the means by which they are produced — Organs of Voice de-
—The
scribed Linnet —The Blackbird— The Missel Thrush—The Song
Thrush — The Goldfinch— The Bullfinch — The Lark— The Nightingale
The Mocking Bird — Various Facts as to the Music of Birds— The Chris-
tian’s Song.

INSTINCT OF BIRDS.

The Subject —Affection of Birds — Illustration of this Feeling

stated

— Singular Abode of an African Bird— Rear-

Peculiar Skill in Nest-building
ing of the Young—The Ostrich — Bower-building Birds of Australia — The
Brush Turkey — The Mountain Pheasant— The Honey- guide — Migration
The Stork— The Turtle Dove—The Swallow — What Instinct? —
is limi- Its

tations —The Mind of Man a contrast to it.

THE NEST

NEST OF THE ORIOLE,

 THE NEST.

CHAPTER I.

ACTIVITY —
OF SPRING VARIETY OF NESTS THE ROBIN THE — —
— —
PARTRIDGE THE OSTRICH THE LARK THE GOLDEN EAGLE —
— —
THE -WOOD-PIGEON THE WINDOW-SWALLOW THE SAND- —
—
MARTIN THE SPARROW THE WHITE OWL THE BURROWING —
—
OWL THE THRUSH THE WOODPECKER THE WREN THE —
—
GOLDEN- CRESTED WREN THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMING-BIRD
— — —
THE RAVEN THE MAGPIE THE JAY THE SWALLOW THE — —
ROOK.

Spring is a season of great activity. No sooner have

the trees put forth their leaves, than millions of birds
commence their labours. Here they may be observed
bringing long pieces of straw to some hole in an old
wall, and there they work in the windows of some lofty

buildings. Some may be seen eagerly seizing on small

tufts of moss, and others bearing away some fragments
of wool which a sheep has left entangled in the thorns.
One requires fine roots for its nest, another has cob-
webs for the outworks of its abode. He who can now
look on without emotion, while God is thus giving such
foresight to the thoughtless, and strength to the weak,
must have a mind in which darkness prevails. Let it

3
 — ; ;

ACTIVITY OF SPRING.

not be so with us ; the God of providence is here de-

manding our praises.

The Golden-crested Wren.

Various indeed are the places frequented by birds.
The preferences of some of them have thus been stated
by one of our poets :

The partridge loves the fruitful fells ;

The plover loves the mountains ;

The woodcock haunts the lonely dells

The soaring heron the fountains.
Through lofty groves the ring-dove roves,
The path of men to shun it
The hazel-bush o’erhangs the thrush,
The spreading thorn the linnet.
4
 : ;;

THE ROBIN.
Thus, every kind their pleasure find.
The savage and the tender
Some social join, and leagues combine
Some solitary wander.
The materials usedby birds in forming their nests
are also The same places and articles are
various.
rarely, perhaps never, found united by the different
species, though we should suppose similar necessities

would direct to an uniform provision. Birds that build

early in the spring seem to require warmth and shelter

for their young. Thus the blackbird, in common with

others, lines its nest with a plaster of loam, which com-
pletely excludes the keen icy gales of the opening year.
We commonly think that a nest should be so formed
that the eggs may not roll out ;
yet many species nestle
on the ground, without either finding or making any
hollows. The robin usually selects a shallow cavity
among grass or moss in a bank, or at the root of a tree.
Humble is his home,
And well concealed sometimes within the sound
;

Of heartsome millclack, where the spacious door,

"White dusted, tells how plenty reigns around
Close at the root of brier-bush, that o’erhangs
The narrow stream, with shealings bedded white,
He fixes his abode, and lives at will.

In like manner, the partridge makes no nest, but

scrapes a small hollow in the ground, placing a few
fibres therein to deposit its eggs on.
5
 THE GOLDEN EAGLE.

Burchall, the traveller, speaks of an ostrich's nest

which he observed South Africa, as a bare concavity
in

scratched in the sand. It was six feet in diameter, sur-

rounded by a shallow trench, and without the smallest

trace of any materials, such as grass, leaves, or sticks,
to give it a resemblance to many other nests.
As we think of other birds, we are reminded that

The lark, too, asks

A lonely dwelling, hid beneath a turf.
Or hollow, trodden by the sinking hoof:
Songster of heaven ! who to the sun such lays
Pours forth, as earth ne’er owns.

The structure, if so it may be called, of the golden

eagle is quite flat, without any perceptible hollow, and
commonly set between two rocks, in a dry inaccessible
place. It is constructed nearly like a floor, with great
sticks, five or six feet long, supported at the ends, and
crossed with pliant branches. It has no covering above,
and the same nest serves for a whole generation.
The nest of the wood-pigeon is composed of the
rudest materials. These are only a few loose sticks,

but the dwelling admirably adapted for concealment.

is

“ How often," says Mr. Jesse, “ have I observed the

strong, rapid flight of a wood-pigeon from a tree, and
heard the noise produced by his wings, and then looked
6
 THE WINDOW-SWALLOW,

up into the tree expecting to see his nest, without being

able to perceive it. This has been owing to the various
deposits of dead leaves and small branches which have
been accumulated in various parts of the tree, and
which have exactly the same appearance which the
nest of the wood-pigeon has.”
When the window-swallow begins to provide a suit-
able dwelling for its family, the crust or shell of its

nest seems to be formed of such dirt or loam as is

nearest at hand. This is tempered and wrought to-

gether with small pieces of broken straw, to render it

tough and tenacious ; and, as the bird often builds

against a perpendicular wall without any projecting
ledge under, its utmost efforts are needed to secure a
firm foundation. To effect its purpose, the swallow not
only clings with its claws, but partly supports itself by
strongly inclining its tail against the wall ;
and thus
steadied, it works and plasters the materials into the
face of the brick or stone. But then, that this work
may not, while it is soft and fresh, be pulled down by
its own weight, the bird does not proceed too fast.

Building only in the morning, there is time enough for

it to dry and harden. About half an inch seems a suf-
ficient layer for a day yet ;
in about ten or twelve
days a nest is formed, strong, compact, and warm, with
7
 THE SAND-MARTIN.

a small opening towards the top, and fully adapted to

the purposes intended.
The outer part of the nest is full of knobs ; nor is

the inside smoothed with any exactness, but it is made

soft and warm by a lining of small straws, grasses, and
feathers, or by a bedding of moss and wool. Sometimes
these birds begin many dwellings, and leave them un-
finished but when once a nest is built in a sheltered
;

place, after much labour, it serves for several seasons.

The sand-martin mines deep holes in sand or chalk
cliffs, to the depth of two or more feet, at the end of
which it forms a loose nest of fine grass and feathers,
put together with but little art. With what does this

little bird make its chamber ? Merely with its beak,

a sharp awl, which is very hard, and tapers suddenly
from a broad base to a point. With this tool it works,
picking away from the centre to the circumference of
the opening, which is nearly circular, and working
round and round as it proceeds, the gallery being more
or less curved in its course, and being narrow and
funnel-shaped at the end. One observer watched a
swallow cling with its sharp claws to the face of a sand-
bank, and peg in its bill as a miner would his pickaxe,
till it had loosened a considerable portion of the sand,
and tumbled it down amongst the rubbish below.
8
Sand-Martins and their Nests.
 THE BURROWING OWL.

Another swallow often chooses the chimney of an old

farm-house, while the martin occupies the eaves. Here,
too, sparrows find a crevice ;
sometimes they choose the
roof of a house, or if the latter be of thatch, they scoop
out a hole for their nests of hay and straw, lined with
feathers. Failing here,
Within the hedge
The sparrow lays her sky-stain’d eggs.

Nor will these birds disdain to fix their abode in some

tree. They like to build, too, under the mud-bottom of
a rook's nest, which defends them from the rain.

The white owl seeks the antique ruin’d wall.

Fearless of rapine ; or, in hollow trees,
Which age has cavern’d, safely courts repose.

« A different course is taken by the burrowing owl of

America. It resides only in the villages of the marmot
or prairie dog, where excavations are so commodious as
to render it unnecessary that this bird should build for
itself, as it is said to do in other parts of the world, where
burrowing animals do not exist. These villages, which
are numerous, vary in extent, sometimes covering a few
acres, and at others spreading over the surface of the
country for miles. They composed of mounds, about
are
two feet in width at the base, and seldom rising eighteen
inches above the surface of the soil. The entrance is

10
 —

THE BURROWING OWL.

placed at the top, or on the side ; from this the passage

descends vertically for one or two feet, and from thence is

continued obliquely downwards. It ends in an apartment,

within which the marmot constructs, on the approach of
the cold season, a comfortable cell for its winter's sleep.
It is composed of fine dry grass, in a globular form, and
has an opening at the top, capable of admitting a finger.
The whole is so compact that it might be rolled on the
floor without injury. The burrows into which the owls
have been seen to descend, on the plains of the river

Plate, where they are most numerous, were evidently

made by the marmot : and it is supposed that the owl
was the sole occupant of a burrow by right of conquest.
The following description of the thrush is beautiful :
—
Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush.
That overhung a mole-hill large and round,
Iheard from morn to morn a merry thrush
Sing hymns to sunrise, while I drank the sound.
With joy and, often an intruding guest,
:

I watch’d her secret from day to day,

toils

How true she warp’d the moss to form her nest,

And modell’d it within with wood and clay.
And by and by, like heath-bells girt with dew,
There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers ;

Ink-spotted-over shells of green and blue ;

And there I witness’d, in the summer hours,

A brood of nature’s minstrels chirp and fly.
Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky.
11
 THE WOODPECKER.

The woodpecker chooses an apple, pear, or cherry tree.

This is minutely examined for several days before ; and
the work is first begun by the male, who cuts out a hole
in the solid wood, as circular as if described with a pair
of compasses. Occasionally, he is relieved by the female,
both of them working with the greatest diligence. The
hole, if made in the body of the tree, is generally down-
wards at an angle for six or eight inches, and then straight
down for ten or twelve more. -It is roomy, capacious,
and as smooth as if polished by the cabinet-maker ; but
the entrance is only large enough to admit the body of
the owner. During this toil, the birds regularly carry out
the chips, often strewing them at a distance to prevent
suspicion. The labour sometimes occupies the chief part
of a week. The female, before she begins to lay, often
visits the place, examines every part both without and
within, with great care, and at length takes possession

The cavern-loving wren, sequester’d, seeks

The verdant shelter of the hollow stump,
And with congenial moss —harmless deceit-
Constructs a safe abode.

So cautious is this bird, that it leaves only a small side-

entrance into the place it selects ; and if the nest be
touched, the bird will rarely enter it again. In forming
her dwelling, the wren does not begin with the bottom,
12
 ;:

THE WREN.

as most birds do ;
but first, as it were, traces the outline,
if against a tree, and fastens the nest with equal strength
to all parts. It afterwards encloses the sides and top,
leaving only a small hole near the latter for entrance.
If the nest is placed under a bank, the top is first

begun, and well secured in some small cavity, by which

the fabric is suspended.
The reason for this dwelling being of a globular form
is plain. The young would be too much exposed in an
open nest; and the little bird, issuing from an egg of only
twenty grains in weight, may be supposed to require
defence from the weather. Hence, the chief bulk is

from the thickness of the walls. It is remarkable, too,

that the advantages of this nest are not limited to the
period of the parent bird's care. The young birds, long

after they can fly and provide for themselves, return to

it at night, and sleep under the parental roof.

Mr. Knapp, in one of his Notes of a Naturalist, says

“ was much pleased to-day, by detecting the stratagems
I

of a common wren to conceal its nest from observation.

It had formed a hollow space in the thatch, on the inside
of my cow-shed, in which it had placed its nest by the
side of a rafter, and finished it with its usual neatness
but, lest the orifice of its cell should engage attention, it

had negligently hung a ragged piece of moss on the

13
 THE GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN.

straw- work, concealing the entrance, and apparently

proceeding from the rafter ; and, so perfect was the
deception, that I should not have noticed it, though

tolerably observant of such things, had not the bird

betrayed her secret, and darted out.”
The nest of the golden-crested wren is remarkable for

its neat and compact structure. Usually suspended at the

end of the sweeping branch of a larch or pine, attached to
the under side of the foliage, and fastened skilfully to the
twigs, it is covered by the leaves which form a sort of
pent-house to defend it from the rain. Moss, the webs

of spiders, lichens, and other materials, are employed to

make a thick and well-compacted mass and within are ;

downy feathers, that it may be exquisitely warm and soft.

14
 THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMING-BIRD.

What a work of assiduity and toil is this ! The archi-

tects are but three inches and three quarters in length,

while the circumference of the nest is eleven inches.

The nest of the ruby-throated humming-bird of
Pennsylvania, as described by Wilson, is generally fixed
on the upper side of a horizontal branch, not among
the twigs, but on the body of the branch itself. Some
instances are mentioned in which it was attached by the

side to an old moss-grown trunk and others, in which

;

it was fastened on a strong rank stalk, or weed, in the

garden : but such cases are rare. This bird often

chooses in the woods a white oak sapling to build on,
and in the orchard or garden selects a pear-tree for

that purpose. The branch is seldom more than ten

feet from the ground. The nest is about an inch in
diameter, and about as much in depth.
The outer coat of a very complete one was formed
of small pieces of a species of bluish-grey lichen, that
grows on old trees and fences. These are thickly glued
on by the saliva of the bird, giving consistency and
firmness to the whole, and keeping out the moisture.
Within were thick matted layers of the fine wings of
certain flying seeds, closely laid together ; the downy
substance of the green mullien and of the stalks of the
common fern lines the whole. The base of the nest
15
 THE RAVEN TREE.

was continued round the stem of the branch, to which

it closely adheres, and, when seen from below, appeared
merely as a mossy knot, or accidental swelling.
On topmost boughs
The glossy raven, and the hoarse-voiced crow.
Rock’d by the storm, erect their airy nests.
The ouzel, lone frequenter of the grove
Of fragrant pines, in solemn depth of shade
Finds rest, or ’mid the holly’s shining leaves.

Attachment to a nest is sometimes very strong. In the

centre of a grove, there stood an oak, on which a pair of
ravens fixed their residence for such a series of years that
itwas called the raven tree. Many attempts were made
by youths in the neighbourhood to reach this nest, but
the tree, though on the whole stately and tall, bulged out
greatly about the middle of the stem ; and this was such
an obstacle that the most daring of them gave up the
effort. The ravens therefore built on, nest after nest, in
security, till the very day in which thewood was to be
levelled. It was month of February, when these
in the

birds usually sit. The saw was applied to the butt, the
wedges were inserted in the opening, the woods echoed
to the heavy blows of the beetle, the tree nodded to its
fall, but still the bird sat on. At last, when it gave way,
the bird was flung from her nest, and was whipped down
by the twigs, which brought her dead to the ground.
16
 THE JAY.

In passing to other birds, we are reminded that

The thievish pie, in two-fold colours clad,

Roofs o’er her curious nest with fern-wreath’d twigs,
And side-long forms her curious door : she dreads
The talon’d kite, or pouncing hawk; savage
Herself — with craft suspicion ever dwells.
The jay constructs its nest very slightly. Its eggs
may be observed through the loosely-blended materials.
The reason is, they are exposed to no peculiar danger,
and the warmth needed in other cases is obviously not
required in theirs. Variety is, however, continually
apparent. Thus, the greenfinch places its rudely-formed
nest in a hedge, little caring for concealment ;
while
the chaffinch, in the elm just above, hides its neatly-
formed abode with the utmost care.
Mr. Jesse, calling at the house of a gentleman in
Warwickshire, was surprised on seeing a swallow’s nest
built on the knocker of the hall-door, and the parent
bird actually sitting on the eggs. When the door was
opened, as it frequently was during the day, the bird
left her nest for an instant, but returned to it as soon
as the door was shut. He afterwards learned that the
swallow hatched her eggs, and that the young arrived
at maturity.
It has been observed, that those birds which are
17
 ;

THE LONG-TAILED TITMOUSE.

necessarily long absent from their nests, in search of

food, make much warmer dwellings than those which
can procure it more readily. Of same writer
this the

furnishes the following instance. As the long-tailed

titmouse has from twelve to fifteen young ones to pro-
vide for, and must travel far in search of food, she
not only lines her nest with a profusion of the choicest
down and feathers, but makes it almost in the shape
of a ball, with a small hole in the side to enter at, so

that the young are effectually defended from cold in

their snug dwelling.
A nest of one of these birds was found by Mr.
Jesse with a feather placed over the opening, evidently
intended to defend it from the cold winds that prevailed
at the time. It formed a sort of valve, and was pushed
in or out as the birds entered the nest or left it. In
different circumstances we discover no such protection.
The thrush can readily procure worms in a lawn or in

a meadow ; it therefore lines its nest with clay or cow-

dung. The hen of the rook seldom leaves her nest, and
is fed during the time she sits on her eggs by her mate
and the dwelling has but little warmth of lining in it,

though placed in an exposed situation.

How beautiful are all these provisions ! To what are

they to be traced? Many would answer, “ Instinct

18
 — ; — —

A BIRD’S NEST.

and there they would stop. But let us not do so for ;

instinct is a gift of God, and shows most impressively

his care for creatures whom men often despise. While,

then, it becomes us to guard against all unkindness
towards them, we should adore that wisdom and good-
ness which they so constantly manifest. “ Let every-
thing that hath breath praise the Lord,” Psa. cl. 6.

We are taught no less certainly a lesson of humility.

As we look on one of the little fabrics already described,

we may well exclaim with Hurdis

It wins my admiration
To view the structure of that little work
A bird’s nest. Mark it well, within, without :

No art had he that wrought no knife to cut,

;

No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert,

—
No glue to join his little beak was all
And yet how neatly finished What nice hand.
!

With every complement and means of art,

And twenty years’ apprenticeship to boot,
Could make me such another? Fondly, then,
We boast of excellence, whose noblest skill
Instinctive genius shames.

But the subject is far from being exhausted ;

other
remarkable instances of ingenuity among the feathered
tribes will be given in the following chapter.

19
 CHAPTER II.

NEST OF THE ESCULENT SWALLOW TAILOR-BIRD THE — THE —

—
GREAT SEDGE WARBLER THE FANTAIL WARBLER THE REED- —
—
WREN THE PHILIPPINE WEAVER-BIRD THE BOTTLE-NESTED —
SPARROW' —
THE SOCIABLE GROSBEAK THE CAPOCIER THE — —
ORIOLES.

The nest of the esculent swallow must be noticed, not

only because it is curious in itself, but because it is one
of the greatest luxuries of the Chinese, and actually
becomes an important article of commerce in the Indian

Archipelago. Sir George Staunton found, in a small

island near Sumatra, several of these fabrics, placed in

two caverns running horizontally into the side of the

rock. They seemed to be composed of fine fibres,

cemented together by a transparent, glutinous matter,
not unlike what is left on stones by the foam of the sea
when carried by the tide. The nests adhered to each
other and to the sides of the cavern, mostly in horizontal
rows, without any break, and at different depths, from
fifty to five hundred feet. Their value is chiefly
20
 THE ESCULENT SWALLOW.

dependent on the uniform firmness and delicacy of the

texture ; those that are white and transparent being
most esteemed.

The Esculent Swallow in its Nest.

A native of India and Ceylon, the little tailor-bird,

measuring only three inches and a half long, and weigh-

ing about ninety grains, makes a nest, which all who
see or hear of must admire. As snakes and monkeys
are formidable foes to the feathered tribes, (and they
abound in the country of the tailor-bird,) it makes a
cradle of a leaf at the end of some pendant twig. If a
21
 THE TAILOR-BIRD.— THE SEDGE WARBLER.

single leaf be sufficiently large, it draws the edges toge-

ther, thus forming a pouch, the end of which is made to
assist in supporting the
nest within. If one leaf
be not large enough, an-
other is sewn to it, and
perhaps another, so that
there may be a proper
place for the nest. This
is composed of down,
mingled with fibres and
a few feathers.
The great sedge war-
bler is not wanting in
skill for its domestic fa-

bric. Though not seen

in this country, it is abundant in Holland, and it also
finds a home in the marshy grounds near Calais. Its

nest is found among the stalks of growing reeds, admir-

ably interlaced with fibres and grass, so as to form a
secure support.
Another beautiful structure is made by the fantail
warbler. It is placed in a tuft of tall grass, and raised
above the ground. A number of the blades of grass are
drawn together and sewed with a kind of cotton thread,
22
Nest of the Fantail Warbler.
 THE REED-WREN.— THE PHILIPPINE WEAVER.

which the bird manufactures. Thus secured, they form

an outer case to a long and barrel-shaped nest, open at
the top. It consists of a cotton-like material, fastened
by threads to the blades and stalks, which surround it so
closely that nothing can be more completely concealed.
How the thread is formed, and how the sewing is done,
we cannot tell. Truly “the God of nature is the secret
guide.”
The reed-wren also builds a pretty nest, wherever
marshes, fens, and sluggish waters yield abundantly its

food and shelter, in reeds and tall grasses.

The Philippine weaver-bird skilfully weaves a nest, in

the shape of an inverted flask : the entrance is at the

end of a prolonged neck, through which is the passage
to a snug little chamber in the round body of this sin-
gular dwelling. It may sometimes be seen suspended
over wells.
The engraving (p. 26) is taken from the nest of an
African species of this genus. It is fixed to the slender
leaves of some kind of palm, and is remarkably firm and
beautiful. It consists of the long tough stalks of one
of the grasses, interwoven with admirable exactness and
nicety. Who that dwells on the various stages of the
work, from the twining of the first fibre round the leaf

to the completion of long and depending passages, will

24
Nest of the Reed-Wren.
 THE PHILIPPINE WEAVER.

not be struck with the difficulties surmounted ? Colonies

of these birds have been observed, several hundreds of

The Weaver-bird and Nest.

these pendant nests appearing on a single tree. This is

chosen from its hanging over the bank of a river or

precipice.
26
 THE BOTTLE-NESTED SPARROW.

Another bird remarkable for its pendant nest is the

baya, or bottle-nested sparrow. It is found in most
parts of Hindostan, associating in large communities,
and covering extensive clumps of date-trees, acacias,
and palmyras with their nests. These are very ingeni-
ously formed by long grass, woven together in the
shape of a bottle, and suspended to the extremity of a
flexible branch, as a defence from many foes. The
arrangements of these nests are still more singular.

They contain several apartments adapted to different

purposes. In one the hen broods over her eggs ;
in

another, consisting of a little thatched roof and cover-

ing a perch, is her mate, who cheers his companion
with his chirping note.
The most singular assemblage of nests hitherto
known is that of the sociable grosbeak, or weaver-bird
of South Africa. Le Vaillant sent a wagon to fetch
one, that he might open the hive, and examine the struc-
ture in its minutest parts. On cutting it to pieces with
a hatchet, it was found to consist of a mass of grass,
Avithout any mixture, so compact and firmly basketed
together as to keep out the rain. With this, which is
to serve as a canopy, the structure begins ;
it has a pro-
jecting rim, and being a little inclined it serves to let the
rain-water run off. Beneath this roof each bird builds
Nest of the Sociable Grosbeak
 THE CAPOCIER.

its nest, which is three or four inches in diameter ; but,

as all are in contact around the eaves, they appear to
form but one building. The nests are only distinguish-
able by a little outer opening, which serves as an en-
trance and even this is sometimes common to three
;

different nests, one of which is placed at the bottom,

and the other two at the sides. It is said, that as the
number of cells increase with the inhabitants, the old
ones become streets of communication. The largest
examined by Le Vaillant contained three hundred and
twenty inhabited cells.

Wilson, the celebrated American naturalist, observed

with much interest the movements of a bird he calls
the capocier. The place chosen by a pair of these for
their cradle was a corner of a retired and neglected
garden, by the side of a small spring, and beneath the
shelter of the only tree growing in that retreat. At
first, they laid in this shrub a part of the foundation of
their abode with moss, the fork of the branches chosen
to receive their nest being already bedded therewith.
The second day’s labour presented a rude mass, about
four inches thick and from five to six inches in diameter.
This was the basis of their fabric, composed of moss
and flax, interwoven with grass and tufts of cotton.
On the seventh day their task was finished. The
29
 THE ORIOLE.

fabric was as white as snow, nine inches high on the

outside, but within not more than five. Its outer form
was very irregular, because of the branches which the
birds had found it necessary to enclose, but the inside
exactly resembled a pullet’s egg, placed with the small
end downward. Its greatest diameter was five inches,

and the smallest four. The entrance was two-thirds or

more of the whole height, as seen on the outside ; but
within it almost reached the arch of the ceiling above.
The interior of the nest was so neatly felted together,
that it might have been taken for a piece of fine cloth

a little worn the substance was so compact and close,

;

that it would have been impossible to detach a particle

of the materials without tearing the texture to pieces.
Nearly all the orioles belong to America ;
and their
nests deserve notice. The Baltimore, however, has one
remarkable for its superior convenience, warmth, and
security. For these purposes, it generally fixes on
the high bending extremities of the branches of trees,
fastening strong strings of hemp or flax round two forked
twigs, corresponding with the intended width of the
nest. With the same materials, mixed with loose tow,
it makes a strong or firm kind of cloth in fact, a felt- —
like substance. This is formed into a pouch of six

or seven inches deep, which is lined with various soft

30
 THE ORIOLE.

substances, well interwoven with the outward netting,

and finished with a layer of horse-hair. The whole is

shaded from the sun and rain by a canopy of leaves.

It is a curious fact, that there is a great difference
in the style and finish of these nests. One of the
neatest among many observed by Wilson, the naturalist,
was in the form of a cylinder, five inches in diameter,
seven deep, and rounded at the bottom. The opening
at top was narrowed, by a horizontal covering, to two
inches and a half in diameter. The materials, flax,
hemp, tow, hair, and wool, were woven into a complete
cloth, the whole being tightly sewed through and through
with long horse-hairs, several of which measured two
feet in length. The bottom was composed of thick
tufts of cow-hair, sewed also with strong horse-hair.

This nest was hung on the end of the horizontal branch

of an apple-tree, and, though shaded by the sun, was
visible a hundred yards off.

Another variety of this species, the orchard oriole,

often attaches its dwelling to the pendant branches of
the weeping willows. As they are often of great length,
the nest, which is made of the materials just mentioned,
is much deeper, to prevent the eggs or the young being
thrown out.
We might proceed with other remarkable instances of
31
 REMARKS.

nest-building, but the space allotted to this interesting

subject is now occupied, and it only remains to offer
a few observations. A Christian mind will not have
failed before this to recall the fact, that the provision

made for the feathered tribes was denied to the Lord

Jesus Christ, when he tabernacled with men on the
earth. What was his declaration to one who proposed to
follow him whithersoever he went? “The foxes have
holes, and the birds of the air have nests ; but the Son
of man hath not where to lay his head.” How deep
was his humiliation ! How wondrous his love to man !

And why did Jesus thus appear as “ a man of sor-

rows ?” It was to “ put away sin by the sacrifice of

himself,” Heb. ix. 26 . Let us, then, keep this truth

constantly in view. Our iniquities can only be forgiven
through his precious blood. In him, therefore, may
we trust, and in him alone ; for through him all that
believe shall be freely and fully justified in the sight of

that God against whom they have grievously trans-

gressed. “ Accepted in the Beloved,” we shall be
changed into his image, “ from glory to glory, even as

by the Spirit of the Lord.” And, to be made holy, is

to be made happy for ever.

32
THE EGG.

EGGS OF THE BUNTING,

 THE EGG.

CHAPTER I.

THE GOD OF PROVIDENCE— WONDERS OF HIS ORDINARY

—
OPERATIONS STRUCTURE OF AN EGG,

A deeply interesting circumstance is related in the life

of Brentius, the chief reformer of Wurtemberg. Com-

pelled to flee from the rage of persecution, he entered
the first house he found open, went unobserved up stairs

to the part under the roof, and creeping on his hands

and knees between it and a pile of fagots, sought in

one corner a refuge from his enemies. To this place,

however, he was pursued ; and his feelings must have

been indescribable, when he heard their spears thrust
through the wood-pile that concealed him, and had even
to shrink aside from one of the thrusts.
In this situation he continued for fourteen days;
 THE GOD OF PROVIDENCE.

and during this time was sustained by very extraordi-

nary means. On the first day he was there, a hen came
at noon to a spot near his feet, laid an egg, and then
went away quietly, without the peculiar cry made by
such a bird, and which, in this case, might have proved
fatal to Brentius. This faithful sufferer for the truth's
sake received the egg as from the hand of God, and ate
it with a piece of the single loaf he had brought with
him. To the same spot the hen resorted daily, and laid

her egg while Brentius remained in this place : and it is

equally remarkable, that the day in which the Spanish

soldiers, who were ordered by the duke of Wiirtemberg
to take him dead or alive, left the town she did not
come.
This fact is one among many, exhibiting the interpo-
sition of the God of providence in behalf of his faithful
servants. To him they are constantly indebted ; but,
when they are in the path of duty, and circumstances of
peculiar danger or difficulty arise, they are warranted to
expect special supplies. Most encouraging are the
words of our Lord and Saviour “ Are not two sparrows
:

sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the
ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your
head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are
of more value than many sparrows," Matt. x. 29 — 31.
36
 — :

THE EGG-ORGAN.

How important is it, then, that every reader should in-

quire, “ May I address God as my Father? Am I,

though once at enmity, reconciled to him through the

death of his only-begotten and well-beloved Son?” And
if the only faithful answer is, “ I am not/’ let it be re-
joined, “ I will cast myself on his mercy, which is re-

vealed through the blood of the cross ; for ‘

he that
believeth not condemned already/ while there is no
is ‘

”
condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.’
If the special interposition of God in behalf of his

people demand our serious and grateful consideration,

there is also much to require, and also to repay atten-
tion, in the ordinary movements of his providence, and
in all his works. Let it be supposed, for a moment,

that our previous knowledge of the facts were entirely

effaced, and that after being shown an egg, we were
told, that it was only for it to be exposed to a certain
degree of heat, during so many days, and there would
issue forth a creature belonging to a class of

air, and ocean

Birds, the free tenants of land,
Their forms symmetry, their motions grace
all ;

In plumage delicate and beautiful

how great would be our surprise and admiration at

such a statement as this ! With what interest should
37
 THE EGG-ORGAN.

we glance at the little oval body, and then at a bird like

that of which we have here a representation !

The Hoopoe.

Similar feelings should now be indulged. It is pro-

bable that the facts about to be stated will be as novel as
they are marvellous to the generality of readers ; while
others may be glad to have them in a form in which
they have not before appeared.
 THE EGG-ORGAN.

Let us, then, look first at the egg-organ of a bird. It

contains all the eggs which

are to be laid for several
years, each one differing

from the rest in composition,

colour, and size. Those
which are to be first laid

are the largest, and of a yel-

lowish hue ;
the others are
gradually less in size and
lighter in colour. The egg
first appears as a small yel-
low globe, but its size in-

creases till it drops from its

slender fastening, and falls

into the egg-tube. Before The Egg-organ, with the

Egg-tube.
it does so, it has neither
white nor shell ; and without the latter, eggs are some-
times laid by a bird, from ill health or accident.
On falling into the tube, the egg has only a single
and very thin membrane for a covering, but soon after
it has another, which is a little thicker. This is pro-
duced by the egg exciting the vessels lining the tube
to throw out a substance, which forms this second coat-
ing, jutting out into small knobs at each end. As the
39
 !

VARIETY IN EGGS.

egg passes along, it is also thickly covered with the white

which fills the tube ; and proceeding onwards it obtains
a third coating, which is the first layer of the membrane
of the shell. Over this the second layer is formed ; and
as the egg proceeds through the remainder of the tube,
the shell is completed.
The growth of an egg is exceedingly rapid ; and par-
ticularly is this the case with the white and the shell.

An extraordinary exertion of nature appears required

for this result. A few hours only pass in forming the
shell. Yet, how wondrous is the process which has thus
far been traced
The eggs of birds are sometimes not easily identified,

Egg of the Reed Bunting. Egg of the Ptarmigan. Egg of the Black Tern

from their varying so much ; the colourings and mark-

ings differing greatly in the same species, and even in the
40
 COLOUR OF EGGS.

same nest. Those of one colour retain it, with only

shades of variation ; but blotches or spots are often very
dissimilar, occasioned sometimes, perhaps, by the age of
the bird. It should, however, be added, that though the
marks are so variable, the shadings and spottings of one
species never wander so as to become exactly figured
like those of another family, but preserve a certain kind
of figuring from year to year. The eggs of the house-
sparrow are the most variable of all.

Colour, in various circumstances, has frequently ex-

cited much curiosity, without gratifying it ; and this is

the case with the colour of eggs. The eggs of the

barn-door fowl are white ; those of the nightingale of an
olive-brown ; and other great differences might be easily

mentioned. It is probable, however, that as there are

glands which secrete the general ground colour of a
shell, so there are others among these which supply the
additional colouring matter. That the one may remain,
while the other is removed, has been proved by various
experiments. The egg of a song thrush, for example,
has a bright blue ground colour, with irregular spots
and blotches of black ; but the latter have been pre-
served from the action of acid, which has entirely dis-
solved the former : and this is only one instance of many
that might be given.
41
 FORM OF AN EGG.

The egg of a bird is beautifully adapted to the pro-

cess it has to undergo. Its oval form permits a greater
part of its surface to be in contact with the warm skin
of the parent than if it had been like a globe. The
shell, too, being of a hard texture, and arched in form
about the soft contents, sufficiently defends them from
the pressure they have to bear. As warmth, moreover,
is all which the egg derives from the parent, the shell

is porous for the entrance of air.

Other arrangements
equally deserve attention.
In an egg ready for

the process of hatching,

a small spot may be ob-
served on the yolk : when
examined, it is apparent-
ly a vesicle, or bag, con-
Egg showing the Embryo.
ta i ning: a fluid matter .

In this swims the embryo of the future bird ; and, as

it is necessary that it should be close to the breast of
the hen, and not at the cold bottom of the nest, pro-
vision is made for this in a most admirable manner.
The yolk is, in fact, a globe, and the little vesicle con-

taining the embryo, involved in the surrounding mem-

brane, is, consequently, at the surface of this ball.
42
 INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF AN EGG.

Now, were its axis through the centre, it would not

move with the change
in the position of the
egg. But the axis being
below the centre, it must
turn round with every
such change, whether
the globe be heavier or
lighter than the sur-
rounding white. Were
Suspension of the Yolk and Embryo
it heavier,’ the embryo
J
m the Egg.
would fall to the lower
part of the shell ; but it is lighter, and therefore rises

to the upper part of the shell.

There is a well-known story of Columbus, of which

we may here be reminded. After his discovery of
America, there were many who said, that any one could
have done what he did ; thus, in a very unkind spirit,

attempting to deprive him of the honour he had fairly

won. He, therefore, assembled them together, and asked

if they could make an egg stand upright on a looking-
glass, held horizontally. They tried, and repeatedly
failed ;
and, on giving up the experiment, he shook the
egg, and thus, to their discomfiture, the thing was done,
and a pungent and well-deserved reproof administered.
43
 INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF AN EGG.

The same part of the yolk being always uppermost,

an egg cannot be balanced on its larger end while the
membranes within remain unbroken, though this may
if the membranes be ruptured by shaking
be easily done
the egg.
The structure of the egg, as apparent in the last en-
graving, deserves minute attention. Two dense, tough
cords appear, each of them being strongly attached to
the yolk-bag. They then pass through the white, and
are connected with the inner lining membrane at each
end of the egg. These cords contain, as represented, a
spiral filament. There are thus two fixed points on
which the yolk can rotate ;
and the spiral filament, sur-

rounded by thickened albumen, is, by its greater weight,

always inclined to the lowest point. Nor is this all;

for the elasticity of these cords is so nicely adapted to

the force by which the yolk is borne up, as to restrain
it at a given point, and allow sufficient space between
the yolk and the inner lining of the shell for the white
to lubricate the surface of the yolk, and thus defend the
embryo from injury.

There are instances in which the bird evades the

trouble of hatching its young. Thus the European
species of the cuckoo, by a wonderful instinct, lays

its egg in the nests of soft-billed, insect-eating birds,

44
 THE CORN-BUNTING.

such as hedge-sparrows, red- breasts, and tit-larks, to

whom it can entrust the proper care of its young.

The corn-bunting of America resembles, in some re-

spects, the cuckoo of our regions. Dr. Potter, seeing

The Cuckoo.

a hen-bird prying into a bunch of bushes in search

of a nest, he determined, if possible, to watch the
result. Knowing how
easily she would be disturbed
by any one approaching, he mounted his horse, and
proceeded slowly, sometimes seeing, and at others losing
sight of her, till he had travelled nearly two miles
along the margin of a creek. She entered every thick
45
 THE CORN-BUNTING

place, prying most minutely wherever the small birds

usually build, and at last darted suddenly into a thick
copse of alders and briers, where she remained for five
or six minutes ;
and then returning, soared above the
underwood, and returned to the company she had left

feeding in the field.

On entering the covert, Dr. Potter found the nest of

a yellow-throat, with an egg of each. This bird re-
turned to the nest while he waited near the spot ; but,
after darting in, she quitted it immediately, perched On
a bough near the place, remained a minute or two, and
entering it again, returned and disappeared. In ten
minutes she appeared once more, accompanied by the
male. They chattered in great agitation for half an
hour, appearing to participate in the affront, and then
left the place. The most remarkable circumstance is,

that the young of the corn-bunting are hatched before

those of the owner of the nest whose eggs, in fact, are
;

never hatched at all, being pushed out of the nest and ;

in a manner at present unknown.

The following is an instance of loss being singularly
supplied. A box, fitted up in the window of a room,
became the abode of a pair of wrens but here, unhap- ;

pily, they were not secure from cats, to which they

have a strong dislike ;
for, gleaning among the currant-
46
 THE WRENS.

bushes and other shrubs in the garden, those lurking

foes often prove fatal to the feathered race. Of one
of these, the wrens referred to were unconsciously in
danger; for already was the nest built and two eggs
laid, when, one day, the window being open, as well as
the room-door, and the hen-bird venturing too far into
the room, a cat sprang upon her, and made her a prey.
Curious to see how the survivor would act, an ob-
server carefully watched him for several days. At first

he sang with great vivacity for an hour or so, but, be-

coming uneasy, he went off for a short time. On his

return he chanted again as before, went to the top of the
house, of the stable, and of a weeping willow, that she
might hear him ; but not finding his mate, he returned
once more, visited the nest, ventured cautiously into the
window, gazed about suspiciously, his voice sinking to

a low and melancholy note, as he stretched his little

neck about in every direction. Going to the box, he

seemed for some minutes at a what loss to do, and
soon after went off, and was seen no more that day.

Towards the afternoon of the following one, he again

appeared, accompanied by another mate, who, after great
hesitation, entered the box, while he warbled forth his

notes with great joy. After remaining there about half a

minute, they both flew off, but soon returned, and began
47
 ;

HATCHING OF EGGS.

instantly to carry out the eggs, feathers, and some of

the sticks, supplying the place of the latter with materials
of the same sort and they succeeded in raising a brood
;

of seven young ones, all of which escaped in safety.

An equable heat is necessary to the hatching of eggs
but this may be supplied in very different circumstances.
According to Pliny, the Roman empress Livia took an
egg, and carried it about in her bosom ;
and when she
was obliged to lay it aside, gave it to her nurse, for fear
it should be chilled. Similar efforts are of recent date.
Reaumur says, that one lady hatched four goldfinches
out of five from the same nest; and other instances
occurred of the same kind. There was great enthu-
siasm for such experiments at the time, but it was of
short continuance.
The Egyptians have long been famous for the art of

hatching fowls’ eggs by artificial heat. Though ob-

scurely described by ancient authors, the practice appears
to have been common in that country in very remote
times. In Lower Egypt there are more than a hundred
buildings for this process, called maamals and in
;

Upper Egypt there are more than half that number.

The maamal is built of burned or sun-dried bricks,
having two parallel rows of small chambers and ovens,
divided by a narrow, vaulted passage. Each chamber,
48
 EGYPTIAN OVENS.

according to Lane, is about nine or ten feet long, eight

feet wide, and five or six feet high, and has above it a
vaulted oven of the same size, or rather less in height.
The chamber communicates with the passage by an
aperture large enough for a man to enter ;
and with its

oven by a similar aperture. The ovens, also, of the

same row, communicate with each other, and each has

an aperture for the escape of smoke.
The eggs are placed on mats or straw, one tier above
another, usually to the number of three, the small in

chambers, and fuel is placed on the floor of the ovens

above. The entrance of the maamal is well closed.
There are two or three small chambers before it, for the

attendant, the fuel, and the chickens newly hatched.

Each maamal contains generally from twelve to twenty-
four chambers for eggs ;
and receives about a hundred
^nd fifty thousand eggs during the annual period of its

continuing open. One quarter or a third of this number

usually fail. The peasants of the neighbourhood supply
the eggs ; the attendant of the maamal examines them,
and afterwards commonly gives one chicken for every
two eggs that he has received. The operation is per-
formed only during two or three months in the year, in

the spring ;
and earliest in the most southern parts of
the country.
49
 REAUMUR’S EXPERIMENT.

The manager, accustomed to the art from his youth,

knows the exact temperature required for success, with-
out any such instrument as our thermometer. On the
twentieth day, some of the eggs first put in are hatched;
but most on the twenty-first day, that is, after the period

required in ordinary circumstances. The weaker of the

chickens are placed in the passage, the rest in other
apartments, where they remain a day or two, before
they are given to the persons to whom they are due.
According to an Egyptian newspaper, published on the
1st of March, 1831, of our era, there were actually
hatched in this way more than seventeen millions of
fowls' eggs.

Reaumur, after various experiments, tried to take

advantage of the heat of the bread ovens of a nunnery
in France. Having ascertained the heat of a room
situated over the bakehouse, and provided for its being
supplied uniformly, he arranged the eggs on the shelves
of a small cupboard, placed in this chamber, and com-
mitted the care of them to the inmates of the institu-
tion. A single box containing a hundred eggs was
entrusted to one of them, who was very ingenious ;
and,
though half proved useless, twenty were hatched one
day sooner than they would have been by a hen. It
was thus supposed, that by rooms over the ovens in use,
50
 THE ECCALEOBION.

chickens might be multiplied at a great rate ; but the

plan has ended in a few experiments.
In this country similar efforts have been made, by
the agency of fire and steam. A remarkable and suc-
cessful one appears in the use of a machine, which was
exhibited some years ago in Pall Mall. To it has
been given the singular name of the Eccaleobion, mean-
ing, “ I bring,” or “call forth life. It appears to be an
oblong, square, wooden box, about nine feet long, three

broad, and three and a half high, and covered, excepting

the doors, with cloth. As the doors are glazed, its eight
divisions, in which the eggs are spread promiscuously
without any covering, may be seen : the power in opera-
tion is within ; and the whole stands on a table, and has
no connexion with the walls against which it is placed.
The Eccaleobion nicely adapts the heat required to the
stage of the egg. The temperature suited to a thousand
eggs during the last week of incubation, would not call
forth life in a thousand fresh eggs ;
while the tempera-
ture necessary in the former case would be fatal in the
latter. The heat actually required is therefore secured ;

and so long as eggs ean be obtained plentifully and

good* the average of birds hatched by the machine is

said to exceed one hundred daily, or about forty thou-

sand per annum.
51
 — —

CHAPTER II.

THE PELICAN’S NEST —CHANGES WHICH TAKE PLACE DURING IN-

CUBATION —PROVISION MADE POR THE BIRDS FIRST HATCHED
—PARENTAL CARE.

It will now be desirable to consider particularly the

hatching of eggs by the parent bird. Our poet Mont-
gomery has said, in reference to the pelicans he has so
beautifully described

**
The noble birds, with skill spontaneous, framed
A nest of reeds among the giant grass,
That waved in lights and shadows o’er the soil.

There, in sweet thraldom, yet unweening why.

The patient dam, who ne’er till now had known
Parental instinct, brooded o’er her eggs.
Long ere she found the curious secret out.
That life was hatching in their brittle shells
Then, from a wild rapacious bird of prey.
Tamed by the kindly process, she became
That gentlest of all living tilings — a mother.”
Various indeed are the situations in which hen-birds
pass through this remarkable process. The engraving
52
 THE WOOD WARBLER.

shows the wood warbler in her ground nest; while

others may be discovered in very different circumstances.

The Wood Warbler.

Our chief knowledge of incubation arises, however, from

the attention that has been given to the domestic hen ;

and this, therefore, we proceed to notice. In a few hours

after the hen has been brooding over her eggs, a con-
53
 CHANGES DURING INCUBATION.

siderable alteration takes place. The form of the em-

bryo changes; it acquires length, and its progress is seen
by a blood-vessel issuing from either side, branching
into numerous smaller ones, which unite at their ter-
mination, and become a boundary on the covering of
the yolk. The chick is the centre of this net- work of
vessels ; and as the embryo
increases so do they multiply,
until they nearly pervade the
membrane of the yolk. It

appears, from a recent experi-

ment, that when these vessels
are first formed, and proba-
bly before, each branch is ac-
companied by a vessel carry-
ing yolk into the body of the
chick ; and thus there is a
supply for its sustenance and
growth.
Between the third and fourth day a remarkable
change may be perceived. The yolk becomes flattened,
and a portion of the white has penetrated the yolk-bag.
A vesicle, as it is called, has now so far become formed,
as to have passed from the body of the chick to the
lining membrane of the shell; and as the embryo grows,
54
 CHANGES DURING INCUBATION.

so does this vesicle increase. It is full of blood-vessels

—a system of arteries and veins — carrying livid red

blood from the body of the chick, and returning it a

bright red colour, fitted for every purpose it is designed
to answer.

If an egg be opened between the twelfth and thir-

teenth day, the pulses of the

numerous blood-vessels will be
seen propelling their contents,
and presenting to the eye a
beautiful spectacle. At the
beginning of the third day,
however, the beating of the
heart is perceptible, although
no blood is visible. But only a
few hours elapse, and two vesi-
cles containing blood appear,
Nine days after Incubation.
one forming the left ventricle,

the other the great artery. The auricle of the heart is

now seen ; and the writer will never forget the pleasure
with which he some time ago beheld an egg at this stage,
exhibiting the passage of blood to the unassisted eye.
About the sixth day, the bare wings and legs may be
fully seen ; the eyes are large and prominent, the brain
begins to have a consistent form, and a little later the
55
 CHANGES DURING INCUBATION.

beak opens for tfie first time. The additional growth of

a few days shows the wings and the body covered with
short feathers ;
and that which a short time before was a
shapeless mass, has now form, proportion, and organic
life. About the fifteenth day the yolk-bag begins to

be received into the body of the chick, as is also the

white, which disappears from admixture with it.

On the eighteenth day, the faint piping of the little

tenant of the shell is heard ;

respiration has therefore
taken place. The vesicle, which had increased with the
growth of the embryo, has continued to enlarge over the
surface of the membrane of the shell, which now it en-
tirely surrounds, thus forming an external covering to
the yolk. The large blood-vessels which connect the
chick with this membrane —any one of which if left

open would prove fatal to the bird — begin to be sealed

and shrink, and preparation is making for its escape.

The position of the chick is such as to occupy the least

possible space. The head, which is large and heavy in

proportion to the rest of the body, is placed in front of

the belly, with the beak under the right wing. The
feet are gathered up, like those of a bird trussed for the

spit. The tip of the upper part of the bill is supplied

with a thick, hardened, horny point; and with this it

makes a mark within the shell, thus preparing it to be

56
 CHANGES DURING INCUBATION.

broken. And though the position of the bird is singu-

lar, and apparently uncomfortable, it is by no means
cramped or confined, yet there is space enough for the
head and neck to acquire sufficient force to break
through the shell, and to effect its escape.
The air-bag, placed at the large end of the egg, as
any one who examines it will readily perceive, ought
now to be noticed. It is found in the eggs of all birds,

but its size does not seem to vary either with that of the
egg or the bird. Mr. Towne, of Guy’s Hospital, to
whom we are indebted for the most recent and satisfac-
tory information on this subject, has exposed the errors
that have prevailed in reference to the structure and use
of this part. He observed, that the lining membrane of the
shell was much changed during incubation, and that by
the alterations that took place he could tell how far the

process was advancing successfully. The floor of this

reservoir of air , however, did not change ; it remained thin

and semi-transparent, and he proved it to be a distinct
membrane, unconnected with that of the shell. The use
of this inner lining membrane, as he calls it, appears to be
to hold the contents of the egg suspended within the shell,

and thus protect the chick from being bruised, which

might otherwise happen were the egg put in motion. It

acts to the chick as a natural hammock which the sailor

57
 CHANGES DURING INCUBATION.

has suspended between the decks of the vessel ; thus the

little bird swings along with its movements, and is kept
from being injured by the shell.

But what is the use of the air contained in this bag ?

The answer of this intelligent observer, founded on care-

ful experiment, is at variance with the opinion commonly
entertained, that air was first supplied by this means to
the earliest-formed blood-vessels of the chick. It ap-
pears that it does not come into use until the nineteenth
day, which is within two days of the little bird leaving
the shell. Great changes are now to take place ; the
large vessels of the vesicle already described, which
were of so much service, are about to be set aside, and
the power of breathing is to take their place. From this

time, therefore, they shrink and shrivel, and at the end

of the twenty-first day they are detached from the
body of the chick, and their remains are left in the

shell when the bird has quitted it. It is also worthy

of remark, that the distention of the lungs by air is the

cause of the vigour so necessary in breaking the shell.

And it may be added, as a curious fact, that the bag is

not filled with atmospheric air; for if the larger end

of an egg be punctured with the smallest needle, the
embryo dies.

It has been stated, that between the third and fourth

58
 :

CHANGES DURING INCUBATION.

days the yolk appears flattened, and the albumen, or

white portion, begins to be mixed with it. On this

point there has been much dispute ; but Mr. Towne

appears to have set it at rest. On examining the con-
tents of an egg at this period, he found on the lower
part of the yolk, or that opposite the embryo, a white
circular line, nearly the size of a halfpenny. On con-
tinuing this inquiry, he observed the yolk-bag within
this circle became clouded, stretched, and wrinkled.
After examining many eggs, moreover, he at last found
one where the yolk-bag was ruptured within this circle

but the yolk had not lost its form, nor had the white
passed through the opening. On removing the portion
of thick white, which adheres to the lower part of the
yolk-bag, from a goose egg of fifteen days, a great part
of the contents of the bag immediately escaped. He
now observed a natural opening in it larger than a shil-

ling, skirted by a vessel which rendered the boundary of

the opening so strong, that he could readily introduce
his finger and withdraw it, which he did repeatedly with-
out its giving way.
It appears, therefore, that at the appointed time a
rent is made in the membranes of the yolk, at that part
opposite to the embryo, through which the thin white
passes, and immediately mixes with the yolk ;
while the
59
 ESCAPE OF THE YOUNG BIRD.

former sinks to the bottom, becomes more dense, and

actually plugs up the opening. It next becomes sur-
rounded by a vessel which contracts, thus reducing the
size of the opening; and as it does so, the thick white is

received within the yolk-bag, until, in the hen’s egg, at

the thirteenth or fourteenth day the white has nearly
all passed into the yolk-bag. The opening is entirely

closed, and a very small portion of slimy matter is all

that remains without.

The manner in which the embryo is kept at the top
of the egg has already been noticed; but when the white
is thus mixed with the yolk, there is a great change of
circumstances. How, then, is the chick found at the
upper part of the egg? Most probably, the thick white
sinking to the bottom by its own gravity, causes the
embryo, which is exactly opposite, to rise to the highest
point.
The writer has heard the sounds noticed by Reaumur,
of the chick hammering on the shell with its beak, but
he has not been able to observe what that eminent
naturalist discovered, through the covering membrane
— the little creature at work. The result of the early

efforts of the bird is a small crack, which is usually

nearer the larger than the smaller end of the egg. The
membrane is rarely ruptured at first, even when the
60
 ESCAPE OF THE YOUNG BIRD.

hard part of the shell is detached ; and at this Reaumur

observed a chick at work, not pecking it, but, as it

seemed, trying to make it thinner by constant friction.

As the strokes are continued the first cracks increase,
always cutting the egg across, and fresh pieces of shell
are driven off. The chick turns on its own body mean-
while from left to right, probably doing so by means of
its feet. The fracture varies in breadth in different eggs,
and is even of different breadths in the same egg. The
effect required is the separation of the hard shell, and
then of the membrane. All chicks do not accomplish
this task in the same time. Some complete it within
an hour, others have been observed at work for several

days together. It is, however, desirable that too early

an escape should not take place. The little creature
should take up the unconsumed portion of the yolk
into its body —
a provision which will suffice for four
and twenty hours. If its exit takes place before this
is done, it is certain to die a few days after it is

hatched.
Connected with this fact a beautiful provision is ob-
servable. All who have noticed the hatching of chickens
are aware that some are produced earlier than others. If,

then, the first of the brood must immediately be fed,

and the mother had to leave the nest in search of food,
61
 ESCAPE OF THE YOUNG BIRD.

the remaining eggs would suffer injury for want of the

necessary warmth ;
but now this evil is completely pre-
vented.
The shells of birds’ eggs are nicely adapted in thick-

ness to the strength of the chick that is to escape.

The little canary could not break through a shell like
that of a barn-door fowl ;
and were the shells of that

bird as thin as those of a goldfinch, they would all be

crushed by her pressure. The chick of the pheasant
would try in vain to break the shell of an ostrich, of
which a drinking cup has often been formed, thicker
than a china cup, almost as hard, and sometimes seven-
teen inches in circumference. How much is there to ad-
mire in this nice adjustment ! The shell, however, be-
comes more brittle by the process of hatching, and at

the same time the lining membrane is partially separated.

Sometimes the fracture of the shell does not exceed

about three-fourths of the circumference. However
this may be, the whole mass of the body is brought into
action, the feet being used as a lever. By repeatedly
pushing the body forwards, the chick gradually raises

the upper portion of the shell, and at length tears off all

its fastenings. Should any part remain, it becomes a

sort of hinge, which allows the lid to fall on one side.

It is sometimes found placed within the other portion,

62
 PARENTAL CARE.

like one cup in another, and at others thrown to a con-

siderable distance. Thus the work of liberation pro-

ceeds till the brood is hatched, and the young become,
in another way, the objects of their parents* care.

Partridges.

Marvellous, indeed, is the process which has now been

briefly described ;
and it will appear still more so, when it
is remembered that effects greatly vary, when the sub-
stance employed, and the means in operation, are appa-
rently the same. Seventeen hundred years ago, Galen
said :
“ Take three eggs, one of an eagle, one of a goose,
63
 — ; ;

CREATION AND REDEMPTION.

and a third of a viper ; and place them favourably for

hatching. When the shells are broken, the eaglet and

the gosling will attempt to fly, while the young of the
viper will coil and twist along the ground. If the expe-
riment be protracted to a later period, the eagle will

soar to the highest regions of the air, the goose betake

itself to the marshy pool, and the viper will bury itself
7
in the ground/ How, we refuse the acknow-
then, can
ledgment, which ought to be made with profound adora-
tion, “ This is the finger of God !
77

Wherever we look, his works show forth his perfec-

tions, and demand our praise but with the poet we;

should say

Nature with open volume stands

To spread her Maker’s praise abroad
And every labour of his hands
Shows something worthy of a God.

But in the grace that rescued man

His brightest form of glory shines ;

Here on the cross ’tis fairest drawn

In precious blood, and crimson lines.

Here his whole name appears complete

Nor wit can guess, nor reason prove.
Which of the letters best is writ,
The power, the wisdom, or the love.

64
THE FEATHER

THE LYRE-BIRD,
 THE FEATHER.

CHAPTER I.

GROWTH OF A FEATHER.

On the arms of one of the companies of the city of

London is the motto, “ Nothing without
God.” He,
alas is often forgotten
! and even when some majestic
;

object calls the Creator and Preserver of all to mind,

it is frequently overlooked that his hand is equally

manifest in what is minute, and apparently insignificant.

It is quite possible, from the depravity of man, for the

grandest scenes in nature to awaken no thought of Him

who spake, and they appeared ; but should the traveller,
as he surveys the ocean, or a range of lofty mountains,
muse for a moment on God, he may not feel that a
single feather from the plumage of the bird that flies

over them, reveals also his power, his wisdom, and his
goodness. This, then, is the fact which is now to be
proved: its examination will doubtless yield a reward.
It will first be desirable to notice the growth of a
3
 DOWNY COVERING OF A BIRD.

feather, which consists of three

parts — the barrel, the shaft,

and the vane. When a bird

leaves the egg, it is covered in

all parts, except the under side,

with a downy kind of hair. On

examining its first garment
closely, several little tufts of
ten or twelve hairs each will
be observed, like the fibres of

a camel-hair pencil. Each tuft

Hair-like Feathers of a newly- grows from a bulbous root in

hatched Bird.
the skin, just as the parts of
the future flower rise from the round root of the tulip
or crocus. Commonly the first robe of down soon falls

off ; but in the eagle and other rapacious birds, the tufts

adhere to the feathers for a considerable time.

Here, however, is another very remarkable fact
While the down remains, as it usually does, a marvel-
lous apparatus is being formed, which may be called
a feather-manufactory. If we go to a type-founder,
we shall see that to cast a letter, as C, or M, or S, a
mould of it is formed, so that when the melted metal
is poured into the mould, the letter C, or M, or S, for

the printer to use, is produced. Now, little as it may

4
 MOULD OF A FEATHER.

be thought, a mould is made for every feather. First

appears a small cone, which in a few days lengthens
into a cylinder, like the round part of a quill, having

Productive Capsule of a Quill Feather.

a pointed end. Here, then, is the mould.

Inside this cylinder, and at the pointed
part, the materials of the several portions
of the feather are formed, while the lower
end receives the blood-vessels to nourish
the pulp. At the very time in which the
outer covering of the shaft of the feather
is growing in one place, the spongy sub-
stance is deposited in others. The parts
which form the vane of the feather are,
however, produced first. They do not
grow from the base, like hairs from the
head ; but the materials composing the
fibres or threads are, so to speak, cast into

moulds, where they harden, and acquire

their exact shape. It is probable that small Productive cap-

parts of these fibres yet to be described, Feather, opened:

and called fibrils, are formed in moulds “quare^oThow

themoul<M '
still more minute.
5
 GROWTH OF A FEATHER.

As the parts of the feather thus

advance below, those which are com-
pletely formed rise above the skin,
carefully covered, however, for a
short time ; but soon they unfold y
and assume their proper shape. On
the feather becoming perfect, the
substance which formed it dries up,
the blood-vessels which nourished it

disappear, and thus we have the pith

which removed from a quill before
is

making a pen. Geese are sometimes

plucked too soon, the feathers being
still young ; hence the soft barrel is

gorged with blood.

Marvellous indeed, then, is this

feather-manufactory. But let it be

observed, that it is not merely in
action once in the life of a bird :
U r ,n r
of cim pTe«oL po rt”ns all its feathers are generally moulted
f h bU
re mo ved showtheTn!
to
annually, and even at shorter periods,
terior The productive
capsule drying up.
a new mould must, 7
therefore,7 be
.

produced every time a new feather

is formed. Who, then, that admires the skill of the
type-founder, does not feel, as these facts are duly
6
 4

CHRIST OUR ONLY REFUGE.

considered, that a far higher tribute is due to the Author

of this process, infinitely more marvellous ?

A beautiful provision for the young bird, before its

feathers are fully formed, appears in the tenderness of

maternal care. It finds the needed warmth and defence
under the wings of its parent. No wonder that an
image derived from this should be employed in Scrip-
ture to exhibit the Divine regard. Our Lord adopted
it when he said,
44
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often
would I have gathered thy children together, even as
a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye
would not !” Had they received him as the Messiah
promised to the fathers, every evil would have been
averted, and every blessing secured.
As certainly is he able and willing thus to interpose
for us. Guilty, we need pardon ; defiled, we need re-

newal; condemned, we need deliverance from the curse

of the law. Be it ours, then, to receive his gospel, to
trust in his mediation as our only refuge, and thus to
find that Christ is
4
made unto us wisdom, and right-
eousness, and sanctification, and redemption.’'

Ah see where
! he stoops from his sphere,
And hows to the earth his bright wings ;

’Tis the voice of an angel I hear,

’Tis the song of redemption he sings.
7
 ;: :

THE REDEEMER AND COMFORTER.

“His name shall be Jesus” — the Name

All mighty to save or destroy

To the careless a beacon of flame,

To the contrite an anchor of joy.

I have tried it when burdened with woe,

When the heart has been scared by its fears
It quenches the darts of the foe,

It lights up this valley of tears.

Pronounced in the whispers of prayer.

It sets the poor prisoner free
It hushes the groan of despair,
And gives confidence —even to me.

8
 CHAPTER II.

THE FULL-GROWN FEATHER.

Now us look at the full-grown feather.

let Take it in
your hand. “ ”
Light as a feather has long become a
proverb. But it is also strong. In the upper part of
the shaft is a material, used in no other class of animals,
and in no other part of birds. The pith is also a very
peculiar substance : it is neither flesh nor bone, mem-
brane nor tendon. Like the former, it is made and
used for one special purpose. The quill is composed
partly of circular fibres, which must be scraped off in
making a pen, or else it will split roughly, and make
what boys call “ cats’ teeth.” This part is the base of
the feather, and serves as a sheath while the feather
issues from the skin, and during its future growth.
If now the shaft be examined, it will appear divided
into two portions by a long groove, and from each side
proceed the parts which form the vane. One of these
is usually stripped off in making a pen. The vane is

formed to oppose proper resistance to the air. Rub

the feather up and down in the line of the stem, and
9
 ;

PARTS OF A FEATHER.

no difficulty will arise ; but press it in the direction of

its greatest width, and it will resist the effort. And

here is design ; the impulse of the air occurs just where
the feather does not yield. It wants strength here, and
here it has it.

The resistance too is given, remarkably indeed, by

a number of fibres or threads. They appear united
but by what means? No glutinous
substance can be detected. The
microscope reveals the secret. On
the margin of these threads are
fibrils, fitted to unite together, some-
thing like as many hooks and eyes.

A thousand of these have been

counted in the space of an inch.
They are of two kinds : one being
branched or tufted, and bending
downwards; while the others do
not divide into branches, and are
Apparatus for hooking to- directed upwards. They act like
gether the fibres of a Fea-
ther. (Example, Common the fingers when the hands are
quill, greatly magnified.)
clasped together.
The close texture of the vane arises from this inter-

lacing of these threads. When, too, after being separated

by accident or force, they are again brought together,
10
 THE PART FIRST WANTED FIRST PRODUCED.

they reunite at once, and the vane is as smooth and

firm as it was before. Draw your finger down the
feather, against the grain, and perhaps some of the
threads will be broken off ; but if it be drawn the other
way, all of them will appear in order.
It is worthy of remark, that the part of the plumage
first wanted by the bird is the earliest produced. Thus,
in some cases, wings are not needed so soon as clothing,
and hence the coat of down precedes the means of flight.
No sooner is a young partridge hatched, than it runs
off to pick up what gamekeepers call emmets’ eggs,
properly the pupse, or chrysalises of the ant, which the
parent bird scratches up for her brood from the earth.
It is not necessary that the partridge should fly for

some time ; and accordingly, from the first, the body is

defended by a close-set downy covering, while all the

strength of the bird is given to the parts in use, the
thighs, legs, neck, and bill. The wings are afterwards
gradually formed.
A contrast to this appears in the case of a blackbird
or thrush. The little woods must fly
songster of the
as soon as it leaves the nest; and hence, while its body
shows only a few scattered bunches of weak, downy,
hair-like feathers, the quills and other wing-feathers are
rapidly formed.
11
 HEAD AND NECK OF THE VULTURE.

The feathers of birds are always exactly suited to

the circumstances in which they are placed. The vul-
ture, for instance, has been called one of the scavengers
of creation. It lives in regions where the largest
animals abound, where death is frequent, and where
putridity speedily follows, filling the air with pestilence.
Most important is it, therefore, that the masses of dead
matter should be speedily removed ;
and for this pro-

vision is made. On the death of an animal, though

not a wing should be visible in the sky, yet with in-
credible swiftness multitudes of vultures are gathered
together from various parts. Now begins the attack,
and it continues till only the bones of the carcass are
left, to be borne away in the night by hyenas and
jackals. Other cases might be mentioned in which the
vulture is of equal service. All this is provided for in

the structure of its head and neck. Often buried as

they are in a putrid mass, had these parts been covered
with feathers, the bird would have been greatly incon-
venienced ;
and so there are none. Even the skin on
the breast is more or less bare, and at most is covered
with down, or short close feathers.
How remarkable are the feathers that form the long
train of the peacock ! Here is a star painted on a great
number of small feathers, all beautifully arranged as
12
 FEATHER OF THE PEACOCK.

they have found their way

from the root. Not the
slightest error of pattern

or arrangement can be de-

tected, even among more
millions of feathers than
fancy could conceive.
Wonderful as the whole
picture is, its parts will

appear still more so. Tak-

ing one-half of the star,
the places and proportions
of the several colours differ
from those of the other
half, as do their lengths
and obliquities ;
yet a sin-
gle picture is produced, in-
cluding ten outlines, which
form also many irregular yet unvarying curves. Still

further, there is a perfect correspondence in the two

halves ;
not from the texture of either being first formed,
and receiving a complicated picture ; on the contrary,
each fibre takes its place ready painted, yet never fail-

ing to produce the pattern. Nor is this all : every

annual renewal of this picture is equally accurate, as it

13
 THE HUMMING-BIRD.

has been in every peacock from the creation of the

world. Well may the question be proposed, “ Gavest
thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks ?” Well may
we pause, filled with admiration at such a display of
power — a power no less than that of God.
A structure so wonderful and delicate as the feathery
garment of birds, is preserved in its comfort and beauty
by an instinct not a little remarkable. Soon after the

nestling opens its eyes, even while the feathers have

not replaced its first covering of down, it may be seen
turning its head, and going over with its bill all the
little bits of its garment, and the ends of all the sprout-
ing feathers it can reach. It displays the same care
throughout its future career. The instant any of the
feathers of the bird are soiled, it sets about trimming
them, perhaps from the uncomfortable feeling produced.
Thus nibbling its plumes, it soon frees them from any
incumbrance, and places them all in their proper
position.
The ruby-throated humming-bird, as it settles on
twigs or branches, frequently opens and closes its wings,
pluming, stroking, and arranging the whole of its bril-

liant apparel with neatness and activity. It is particu-

larly fond of spreading one wing at a time, and passing

each of the quill-feathers in its whole length through
14
 WATER-BIRDS.

the bill, when, if the sun is shining, the wing thus

plumed is extremely light and transparent.
Water-birds are, if possible, more diligent in trim-
ming their feathers than land-birds. This may partly
arise from the very close texture of their plumes, and
from the air being quickly felt should it enter any open

Summer Duck.

space. This closeness of the feathers serves to shut

out the water which the birds frequent, and aids their
progress by the smoothness of its surface.

15
 !

CHAPTER III.

COLOURS OP FEATHERS.

Had we paused before this, enough has been stated to

prove that even a feather, apparently insignificant as it

is, surpasses all human power, and

the productions of
is worthy of the hand “ that stretcheth out the heavens
as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell
in.” But other wonders await us.

Feathers exhibit in their appearance an amazing

variety. Let the most lively fancy be tasked for forms
they may assume, and hues they may bear, yet how
meagre will be the result of its utmost efforts ! What
is a finite compared with an infinite mind
The plumage of the male bird is generally far more
brilliant than that of the hen ;
and when it is so, the

young always put on first the plainer dress of the

mother. When there is little difference between the
cock and the hen, the young have a particular and dis-

tinguishing plumage of their own.

Colour is intended for important purposes, and not
merely, as some suppose, for beauty. It is, in fact, a
mode of concealment, the most universal of all means
16
 7

VARIETY OF FEATHERS.

of defence, and one that appears in every race of ani-

mals. As the strength, the weapons, and the velocity
are all on the side of the pursuer, colour is much more
resorted to, to defend birds than any other creatures.
In the partridge, the quail, the woodcock, and the snipe,
for instance, the likeness of their colours to the brown
earth on which they move, is such as often to conceal
them from every eye, and even from the acute and
piercing sight of the hawk and the kite. The hovering
foe may be observed above during the chase, though
the prey has not escaped ; deceived also by smaller birds,
even when the accordance in colour is not great. Often
do they shift their position under the eye of the hawk
longing to pounce upon them, and then stop, as if they
knew the colour of the spot on which they are “ cowering
and squatting,” as White calls it, were a sure defence.
In this there is a display of Divine goodness, of which
there is a special instance when the males are furnished
with the most beautiful plumage, while the females are
of a dull earthy colour, so that they can scarcely be
distinguished from the ground on which they sit. This
difference particularly appears in the pheasant, peacock,
and duck tribes. Look at the golden pheasant, the
“ gold-flower fowl,” as they call it in China, with its crest
so delicately silky, and of a fine amber yellow ; the rich
c 1
 COLOURS OF MALE AND FEMALE BIRDS.

orange-red feathers of the back of the head and neck,

edged with a line of black ; the glossy and greenish-
black feathers, having rounded edges, which lie on the

Golden Pheasant.

top of the back ; while this is of rich yellow, and the

under surface is intense scarlet ; and blue, and chestnut-
brown, and black, adorn its tail and wings. But the
female is not thus gay and splendid in appearance. On
the contrary, it is of a uniform rusty brown, with darker
marks and spots ; and the tail is comparatively short.
The difference between the drake and the duck, and
18
 BIRDS OF COLD REGIONS.

the peacock and peahen, has often been noticed ; a

similar one occurs in the chaffinch, the yellow-hammer,
and many other birds. But where is the limit? Just
where weakness ceases, and concealment is not needed;
because the birds are able to defend themselves. Is not
here, then, a display of infinite wisdom ?

But it may be asked, What becomes of the birds that

dwell in cold regions ? For them, also, it may be an-
swered, a benevolent provision is The ptarmi-
made.
gan, for example, inhabits brown heathy moors and
rocky wilds, overgrown with shrubs of a thousand min-
gled tints ; and during summer its plumage is adorned
with stripes of black and brown. But, did these hues
remain, the hawk or the snowy owl might easily make
it a prey,when the snows of winter fall and reveal it
fully to their view. What, then, is the course of Him
who makes even the feathered tribes his care ?
As winter approaches, the ptarmigan is clothed in
white not by moulting its feathers for how could it
: ;

bear such a loss —a loss to be only slowly replaced at

such a time? In a way not yet understood, each indi-
vidual feather changes its colour ; the brown and the
black become white. All are white, except the tail-
feathers, but these are short and not seen why then ;

should they change ? Thus the ptarmigan may safely

19
 !

WISE ADAPTATION OF COLOURS.

burrow in the snow, or search beneath it for leaves and

berries ;
its enemy may look on, but its snow-white
covering is its defence. The same change passes on
the snowy owl, the snow-finch, and the snow-bunting.
All thy works praise thee, 0 God; they tell us of thee;
they ask our tributes : how great are our insensibility
and guilt, if with such displays of thy perfections as
creation and providence present, and all the light of that
word which thou hast magnified above all thy name,
we fail to render thee the glory that is thy due
Another purpose is sometimes to be gained by con-
cealment : the support of the bird is attended to by
Him who feeds the fowls of the air, no less than its

safety. And here, as in other instances, the same

means secure both ends. Professor Jones states, that
some years ago he was conversing with a friend on
the best dress for an angler, when the latter stated that
he should prefer a sky-blue coat and a white waistcoat.
Amused by the remark at the moment, it soon passed
away but, some years after, having occasion to examine
:

a large number of wading-birds the inhabitants, not —

of the woods and mountains, nor the verdant plains,

nor even the surface of large lakes and rivers, but of

the marsh and the morass, the oozy lands which skirt
the sea and its little creeks and inlets — birds to whom
20
 WHITE FEATHERS OF THE BEE-EATER.

fish afford a frequent meal — his friend’s sky-fashioned

dress, as he called it, was at once recollected. The

heron, for example, catching fish as its food, by darting
itsbeak at them with the rapidity of an arrow, has, so
to speak, a light blue coat and a white waistcoat.
The design of this part of its plumage is obvious.
As the fish looks upwards, these blue and white feathers
conceal the foe ;
the attire of its enemy is blended with
the sky and clouds of the firmament : it passes onwards
without fear, and is promptly seized as a prey ; when
other hues would produce alarm, and the fish would
hurry back in haste, or dive into the depths of the
waters. This shows that the angler was right in his
judgment : he knew, or very sagaciously guessed, the
best means he could adopt for the same purpose.
A similar provision appears in a richly-coloured bird,
called the bee-eater, which occasionally wanders as far

as the British isles, but never stays to breed. This bird

dwells along streams and rivers, where, like a blazing
star, it courses up and down in chase of its prey. Its

chief food are bees and wasps, grasshoppers and butter-

flies. Singularly enough, on its breast appear two white
feathers, exactly resembling the blossom of a flower; and
insects attracted
, by these, frequently become an easy prey.
There are still other important arrangements in
21
 ;
:

THE COVERING OF BIRDS.

reference to colour. Our own climate is proverbially

changeable, and winter is with us sometimes very severe.
At its approach we increase the number of our garments,
and pity those who, in the depth of their poverty, are
without any such provision. But what shall the fea-

thered tribes do at this inclement period ? Multitudes

avoid it, it is by migrating to more genial climes
true,
but, for those who do not, there are means of defence.
“ In the small order of birds that winter with us, from
a snipe downwards,” says Paley, “ let the external colour
of the feathers be what it will, their Creator has univers-
ally given them a bed of black down next their bodies.”

Why, then, should this course be pursued? Because

black, as all wearers of it may know, is the warmest
colour ; that is, it retains most fully the animal heat
and here it is used that the bird may keep in the heat
which arises from the action of the heart and the circu-
lation of the blood. As small birds present, too, in
proportion to their bulk, a much greater surface to the
air than others, so they are much more exposed to cold,
and need an attire which large birds have not. Thus,
while some creatures are prepared to destroy, that in-
ferior beings may not become too numerous, our hea-
venly Father, without whom a sparrow does not fall to

the ground, provides for the preservation of others.

22
 CHAPTER IV.

THE WINGS.

Our familiarity with the appearance of birds prevents

our being duly impressed by the wondrous contrivances
they exhibit and hence it has been said, that could
;

a person who had never seen a bird be presented with

a plucked pheasant, and set to invent a covering which
should unite, in the highest degree, the qualities of
warmth, lightness, and least resistance to the air — giving
it also beauty and ornament—he would be the person
to behold the work of the Deity, in this part of his

creation, with the sentiments which are due to it. But

will not some valuable impressions be produced by the
facts that have been stated, and others that still re-

main ?
The wings of a bird are in every way complete. Thus
they are moved by large muscles, which, taken together,
are generally heavier than the rest of the body and ;

the merry-thought, placed at the origin of the wings, and

stretching from the one to the other, is a firm basis for

their support. It is very elastic, and therefore tends to

23
 FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

restore them to their proper place, after being disturbed

by any violence.
There is a great diversity in the flight of birds. Some
close their wings every three or four strokes, flying by
jerks, and having a waving motion, like wagtails, wood-
peckers, and most small birds. Others fly smoothly,
and their motion is even ;
and some buoy themselves
in the air, as the kite and the hawk, without any appa-
rent motion of the wings.
It is stated that a falcon, belonging to Henry iv. of
France, escaped from Fontainebleau, and twenty-four
hours after was found at Malta, a distance of not less
than one thousand three hundred and fifty miles. Sup-
posing the bird to have been on the wing the whole
time, this velocity is equal to fifty-seven miles an hour.
Such birds, however, never fly by night ;
and, allowing
the day to have eighteen hours’ light, this would make
its progress at the amazing rate of seventy-five miles
an hour. The probability is, that the bird had not so
many hours of light for its journey, and that it was not
retaken at the moment of its arrival, so that its actual

course was even more marvellous. Colonel Thornton

considers that a falcon pursuing a snipe will, in addition
to its numerous turns, pass over the space of nine miles
in eleven minutes.
24
 FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

Even a sparrow is known to fly at the rate of more

than thirty miles an hour. The occasional flight of a
hawk has been considered by intelligent observers as
not less than one hundred and fifty miles an hour, when
either pursued or pursuing, and at the full stretch of its

powers. One hundred miles is thought a fair reckoning,

not only for the hawk, but the woodcock, snipe, and
similar birds, during their migrations. The usual flight
of the eider-duck has been found to be at the rate of
ninety miles an hour.
The extreme speed in these cases will still further
appear from comparison with that of other creatures.
One horse, greatly celebrated, passed over a space of
four miles in eight minutes, which is but thirty miles an
hour, and could not long be continued. Another is said
to have gone at the rate of a mile in a minute, but this
was for a very short distance.
A different arrangement from that of the hawk or
eider-duck, and one as peculiar, was required for the
ostrich. It dwells in the desert, and, when attacked,
trusts for safety to its speed. Stretching itself to the
utmost, and vibrating its opened wings, it scours away,
and sometimes defies the Arab and his horse for eight or

ten hours. Hence it has muscular thighs, not covered

with feathers ; a foot divided into two toes only, each
25
 ;

FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

one being well padded beneath, and the whole strongly

resembling the hoof of the camel. Power was required

for these parts, and here it is supplied. But it was not

wanted for the wings, and therefore they have it not.
They have no fibrils to fasten the feathers closely to-
gether, as is the case with all birds designed for flight
but the feathers hang loosely at the sides.

Go, ask thy heart, then, What spirit thus abides

In every region ? thus minutely works in deserts ?

And thy heart shall answer, It is God.

The owl supplies another case in point. It has been

said, if this useful bird caught its food by day, instead
26
 PLUMAGE OF THE OWL.

of hunting for it at night, mankind would

have full proof of its utility in thinning
the country of mice, and it would be
encouraged and protected everywhere.
The mouse is extremely timid ; it is

startled by the slightest sound if, : there-

fore, its foe closed its wing to its side, as
the partridge frequently does, with great
force, that it may gain sufficient velocity,
and thus its flight were noisy, the prey
would hear and be gone, and the owl be
without its proper meal.
Examine, then, the plumage of the
owl, and it will be found full, soft, and
downy. The quill-feathers are so form-
ed, that they cannot strike against the
air so as to produce the rushing sound
common in the flight of birds ; and
especially is it so with the first quill
feather. Instead of its outer edge being
plain, as is usual, it is fringed with a fine
comb -like line of short lashes. So
Feather of the Owl.
loose and delicately soft, indeed, is the
plumage of the owl, that it offers no resistance to
the air, but yields to every breath. Thus singularly
27
 — ; ;

THE HUMMING-BIRD.

provided for the service it has to perform, it passes

through the air unheard by its victim ;
while, as its

wings are of great extent, the bird can not only make
considerable progress, but whirl round, and drop directly
on its prey.
Of the humming-bird, a native of one of the fair isles

in which it lives has said

Still sparkles here the glory of the west,

Shows his crowned head, and bares his jewelled breast
In whose bright plumes the richest colours live.
Whose dazzling hues no mimic art can give.
The purple amethyst, the emerald’s green,
Contrasted mingle with the ruby’s sheen
While over all a tissue is put on

Of golden gauze, most marvellously spun.

This beautiful and delicate creature has excited the

admiration of all who have observed it, either revelling
in its native glades, or at rest in some museum. The
ancient Mexicans used the feathers of humming-birds for
superb mantles ;
and the Indian delighted to adorn his
bride with gems and jewellery plucked from the starry
fronts of these beauteous creatures. Ingenuity has been
employed for terms to depict the richness of their colour-
ing ; the lustres of the topaz, of emeralds, and rubies,
have been compared to them, and applied in their names.
28
 ;

THE HUMMING-BIRD.

The Indians them by one which means beams or

call

locks of the sun. Nor can we be surprised at this, when

we consider the dazzling splendour of their plumage :

Delicate and beautiful,

Thick without burden, close as fishes’ scales.

Humming-birds are of a lively and active disposition,

almost always on the wing, performing with great ra-

pidity all their movements, and displaying in a brilliant

sun the variation of their plumage with the greatest

advantage.
Each rapid movement gives a different dye
Like scales of burnished gold they dazzling show.
Now sink to shade — now like a furnace glow.
They remain suspended in the air in a space barely
sufficient for them to move their wings. The humming
noise they make proceeds entirely from the surprising
velocity with which they do so, keeping their bodies in
the air, apparently without motion, for hours together.
When fearful or angry, their motions are very violent,
and their flights rapid as an arrow, so that the eye
cannot follow them.
Now, while the beauty of these birds first awakens
attention, the largeness of their wings cannot fail to be
observed. In most cases the size of the wings, and the
29
 ;

THE HUMMING-BIRD.

strength of their quills, appear disproportioned to so

small a creature ;
yet, on comparing them with its ne-
and the other parts of its frame, their design
cessities

and usefulness are evident. The food of humming-

birds is derived from the sweet juices of
flowers, or from insects which must be taken
in a rapid flight, or drawn from the deep tube,
or cup-shaped recesses, of blossoms which
grow and hang in all directions, and which
they can only reach by being suspended above
or under them. All the parts not used dur-
ing flight are very slender, and unfit for any
long support, or assistance in obtaining food,
by climbing or hanging in various positions,
like the titmouse, and many of the slender-
Feather of
ki}} ec[ warblers. Here, then, is one reason
ming-bird. for the size and power of their wings.

But another is, that they may pass safely through the
long flights which are necessary for their preservation
during which they have often to withstand a passing
gale, a heavy shower, and even the rigour of a snow-
storm. The climes they inhabit are at seasons subject
to violent rains, which drench and almost inundate their

abodes ; or to hurricanes, which speedily leave only a

wreck of what was before so luxuriant and splendid.
30
 THE SWIFT.

But, admirably furnished as they are for flight, they

pass, before the dangerous season, to spots where a
former wreck is being repaired, with a rapidity un-
known in other climates.
The form of the wings of humming-birds nearly re-
sembles those of the swift, a bird whose address and
dexterity on the wing are almost beyond conception,
continuing in flight in the height of summer at least
sixteen hours, movements being computed at seventy
its

feet in a second. The front outline of the wing is very

much curved, and the first quill is always longest, the
others gradually shortening. The plumes are narrow and
31
 THE FRIGATE-BIRD.

compact, firmly united together ; forming, when used, a

substance almost like a thin plate of whalebone. The
shafts of the quills are remarkably strong and elastic in

all species ;
but in a few they are expanded to an ex-
traordinary degree at the base, and nearly equal the
breadth of the plume.
The same arrangement is made in other instances.

If short-winged birds migrate, it is to short distances.

But if we turn to the frigate-bird, which is met with
hundreds of leagues* from land, we may discover wings
prepared for extraordinary speed, and a want of that
close and downy texture in the general plumage which
marks a bird designed to dwell on the surface of the
deep, because its province is not the water, but the air.

Or to take only one more instance, the wandering alba-

tross has been observed between six and seven hundred
leagues from land, in the middle of the Southern Ocean :

it is not exceeded, therefore, by any bird in the vast

spread of its wing ; and hence it can sail before the

wind, or make way against it, as if that element were
subject to its control.

32
THE SONG BIRD

THE LAHK.
*
 —

THE SONG BIRD.

CHAPTER I.

MUSIC OF BIRDS —VARIETY OF TONES— STRUCTURE OF THE ORGANS

OF VOICE OF SONG BIRDS.

The music of birds arose towards heaven before the

creation of man. Adam
and Eve could not have
heard their melody without lively emotions and from ;

their days to ours, multitudes have felt with the poet

when he said

A few, with melody untaught,

Turn’d all the air to music, within hearing,
Themselves unseen ;
while bolder quiristers,
On loftiest branches, strain’d their clarion pipes.
And made the forest echo to their screams
Discordant. Yet there was no discord there.
But temper’d harmony all tones combining,
;

In the rich confluence of ten thousand tongues,

To tell of joy, and to inspire it. Who
Could hear such concert, and not join in chorus ?

Not I.

3
 DIVINE WISDOM AND GOODNESS.

The general interest felt in the present subject has

dictated its selection, with the hope that it may aid in
impressing the mind of the reader with the greatness
and goodness of Grod. It is He who has formed alike
“ the fowl to fly above the earth in the open firmament
of heaven,” and the ear which is delighted with their
strains. Well may the song of a bird call forth our
praises —the praises not only of the lip, but of a
grateful heart.
The feathered race are remarkable for a very great
variety of tones and qualities of voice, from the mono-
tonous scream of the eagle to the rich and varied
modulations of the nightingale. Not that all birds are
musical. On the contrary, while each species has a
note peculiar to itself, it is only to certain tribes that
the power of melody is given. A voice capable of rapid
inflexions, and full of harmony, has not been granted
to the rapacious tyrants of the air, to the birds that
play and dive among the billows of the ocean, to the
wild swan and the host of water birds, that make the
marsh or the dark morass their home, nor yet to the
feathered creatures which yield food to man. It is to
a multitude of smaller birds, the tenants of woodlands
and groves, that we must listen, if we would hear a
thousand voices, swelling the hymn of praise in mingled
4
 VARIETY OF TONES.

harmony. All, however, modify the voice by the will of

Him who formed them, and has caused them to utter
such sounds, and speak such a language, as are required
by the circumstances in which they are placed. The

Goldfinches.

cawing of the rook, the croaking of the raven, the cooing

of the dove, as well as the warblings of the various
birds of song, are all the results of the wisdom that
never errs, and the benevolence which is inexhaustible.
 VARIETY OF TONES.

This fact is apparent when we consider, that among

birds there is no confusion of sound ;
every feathered
warbler possesses its own music, a series of notes, and
a style of modulation, peculiar to itself. And it will,

therefore, prove interesting to investigate the structure

of the apparatus by which sounds and intonations, so
dissimilar, are produced. In doing so, the organ of
voice will be found extremely simple, so much so indeed,
that we might be surprised at the results of such a con-
trivance, were it not for various facts with which we
are acquainted. The organ of the human voice, for
though simple in the extreme, produces the
instance,
most extraordinary variety and richness of tones by
slight variations of muscular action, apparently too
trivial for such surprising effects. Eut here the hand
of God appears it is one of innumerable instances in
;

which astonishing results are to be traced to causes

apparently inconsiderable.
In birds, and also in the various animals ranged under
the class Mammalia, the trachea, or windpipe, is the
organ of voice. This, as is well known, is the air-tube,
that leads from the back of the mouth into the lungs,
and through which the air is drawn and returned, in
the action of breathing. Its name is derived from a
Greek word meaning rough, because, being composed
6
 VARIETY OF TONES.

of a series of rings, it presents a surface rough with

projections and intervening furrows.
In man, and the mammalia generally, the different
intonations are produced by the tension or relaxation of
two chords stretched across an aperture but in birds ;

these chords are wanting, and the intonations are pro-

duced by the lengthening or shortening of the tube
through which the air vibrates. The organs of voice in
man have, therefore, been likened to an Eolian harp, the
sounds of which are drawn from it by a current of air
acting on the strings while those of birds are said to
;

resemble an instrument like a Erench horn, where the

notes, on a low key, are formed by affixing additional
circles of tube, and in producing various tones, the
extent of the opening is regulated by the hand.
Another peculiarity should also be noticed* In man,
who has a distinct articulate language, the tongue,
aided by the teeth and lips, is the instrument by which
sounds are formed into words ;
but in birds, excepting
the parrot tribe, the tongue has little or nothing to do
with the inflexions of their native song.
The tube of the trachea of birds is composed of firm
two coatings of membrane,
cartilaginous rings, having
one external, the other internal. These are uninter-
rupted in their course, occupying the spaces, great or
7
 STRUCTURE OF ORGANS OF VOICE.

small, between tbe rings, and thus rendering the tube

very flexible. This tube greatly varies in form, length,
and diameter, and these modifications produce corre-
sponding effects on the character of the voice. Shrill,

clear notes, as in singing birds, issue from short

tubes ;
and the various inflexions of these notes are
greatly dependent on the slenderness of the rings, and
the enlarged spaces between them; whence arises a
freedom of motion and a consequent diversity of sound.
The tube is, in such cases, governed by a single pair
of muscles, which not only give it support, but adapt
it to the varied motions of the neck, and influence its

length.
The longer and wider the tube, and the more it is

formed of broad rings, closely approximating, the more

monotonous and trumpet-like is the voice. In singing
birds it is straight and short but in the tribe of waders
;

and swimmers it offers every variety of form and con-

volution. In the velvet duck there is a remarkable
hollow bony enlargement, situated two-thirds down the
tube, made up of rings firmly ossified together. A
similar formation appears also in the goosander, and
in the red-crested duck. Among other birds the tube
has two remarkable enlargements, with corresponding
contractions.
8
 STRUCTURE OF ORGANS OF VOICE.

But to these varieties of form this organ is not

limited ;
it assumes also folds, more or less intricate.

Tracheal Tube of the Goosander Section of a part of the Tube

and of the Red-crested Duck. of the Velvet Duck, showing the
bony enlargement.

These are of no little interest to the naturalist, for the

9
 STRUCTURE OF ORGANS OF VOICE.

constancy of these convolutions is frequently of great

service. They aid him in ascertaining the difference
between species nearly alike in outward character ;
as,

for instance, the three species of European swans,

which are, indeed, truly distinct.

In some birds this tube assumes, as has been already

intimated, most singular convolutions, of which that of
the wild swan may be given as an example. In this
case, the trachea is lodged in a cavity of the keel of the
breast-bone, which is opened in the engraving, on page
11, so as to exhibit its convoluted course. It will
easily be conceived that the folds of this tube, by which
its length is materially increased, would modify the
tones of the voice. We find, therefore, such birds
uttering deep, grave, monotonous sounds, with more
or less of a trumpet-like clang or reverberation. Though
the voice is much influenced by the figure, diameter,

and firmness of the tube, this is not the part in which

it is produced. The true organ of voice the organ —
acting on the air as it passes, so as to give it those
rapid vibrations, moulded, so to speak, into notes, high
or low in the scale, by the tube of the trachea, is the
inferior larynx. This is situated at the end of the
tube, and is variously constituted in different birds.
Every species, indeed, has its own peculiarities. Some-
10
 STRUCTURE OF ORGANS OF VOICE.

times the inferior larynx is formed by the approxima-

tion of several rings, ossified more or less together, and
at others of solid bones. Nor does it vary less in form.

Trachea of the Swan.

It is by the muscles of the inferior larynx that those

minute and varied movements of the organs of voice
are produced, which modulate and vary its tones. These
muscles are, therefore, better developed, and more

numerous in birds of song than in such as have a

harsh or monotonous cry. They are termed the muscles
of voice, and vary in number from one pair to five.
In a few species they are altogether wanting.
11
 ORGANS OF SONG BIRDS.

The thrushes, larks, buntings, finches, warblers,

swallows, and all birds of song, have five pairs of
muscles of voice. The tube is here uniform, and very

a b c

The Larynx of Song Birds.

A. B. The inferior larynx; a, b, c, d, e, five pairs of muscles which

act on the larynx. C. The upper larynx ; /, /, pair of muscles for
opening the glottis ; g g
, ,
pair of muscles for closing the glottis.

flexible. The muscle of the tube divides on each side

into two Each muscle has its appropriate place
slips.

and action, by which the modulations and intonations

12
 ;

^.ORGANS OF SONG BIRDS.

of the voice of the richest songsters of the grove are

produced. The preceding engraving will render, it is
believed, the remarks that have been made more clear.

It represents the larynx ;

the upper extremity of the
trachea, the superior opening of which is called the
glottis, with the various muscles.
Simple is the mechanism which is thus apparent
but who that rightly considers the effects produced,
will not perceive the operation of that God who is

“ wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working?”

<

13
 CHAPTER II.

VARIOUS SONG BIRDS — —

THE LINNET THE BLACKBIRD THE MISSEL —
—
THRUSH — THE SONG THRUSH THE GOLDFINCH THE BULLFINCH —
— —
THE LARK THE NIGHTINGALE THE MOCKING BIRD. —
After having thus made some remarks on the organs
of voice in birds, and on the gift of song to some of the
feathered tribes, it will be desirable briefly to notice a
few of the warblers which have been most admired.
The linnet is thought by some to excel all small
birds in the sweetness of its notes. Its agreeable, flute-
like, and even brilliant song consists of several strains,
succeeding each other very harmoniously. When these
are mingled with acute and sonorous tones, slightly
resembling the crowing of a cock, there are many who
consider the notes of the bird as peculiarly valuable.
Its song is only interrupted during the year by moult-
ing. A young one taken from the nest, not only learns
the songs of birds that it may hear in the room, such
as chaffinches, larks, and nightingales, but, if kept by
itself, airs and melodies that are whistled to it. “It
14
 THE BLACKBIRD.

is very pleasant and surprising,” says Beclistein, “ to

hear a young linnet that is well taught by a nightin-
gale. I have one whose imitations are as perfect as
possible. It amuses me throughout the year, but espe-
cially when my nightingales are silent.”
The largest song bird of our own land is the black-
bird : it sings early ;
and though there is not so much
variety in its notes as in those of the thrush, they are
soft and clear. The song of this bird makes a pleasant
variety among the number of more sharp and trilling
voices. As there are two, and frequently three broods
of blackbirds in the year, the song continues through
great part of the season. It is not, however, heard so
constantly, for so long a time, or from so high a perch,
as the song of the thrush.
Of the bird last mentioned there are different kinds.
The missel thrush is very clever and persevering in
finding snails and slugs in their winter retreats, and is,

therefore, among the first of the feathered tribes to feel

the turn of the year. Its notes are not so varied and
mellifluous as those of the song thrush, but they are
still both powerful and musical. As this bird is the first
that is heard in the woodland, after the howling of the
wind among the leafless branches, it has often been
hailed, as in the following verses, with peculiar fondness.
15
 ;

THE SONG THRUSH.

Sweet thrush ! whpse wild untutor’d strain

Salutes the opening year.
Renew those melting strains again.
And sooth my ravish ear.

Though in no gaudy plumage dress’d.

With glowing colours bright,
Nor gold, nor scarlet on thy breast.
Attracts our wondering sight

Yet not the pheasant, nor the jay.

Thy brothers of the grove.
Can boast superior worth to thee,
Or sooner claim our love.

The song thrush is far more generally distributed

over the country than the one just noticed. When the
situation and the season are alike favourable, these birds

are in fullmelody early in February and as there are ;

generally two, and sometimes three broods of young

in a year, the song continues till the beginning of
October. The notes it includes are the finest of any
of our permanent wood songs, and superior in clearness
and power, though not in variety, to those of any of
the warblers.They are never heard amidst desolation,
and when they fall on the ear, the listener may be
sure he is not far from a human dwelling.
“During one spring,” says Mr. Knapp, “an indivi-

dual song thrush, frequenting a favourite copse, after a

certain round of time, trilled out, most regularly, some
16
 !

THE SONG THRUSH.

notes that conveyed so clearly the words Lady-bird

lady-bird ! that every one remarked the resemblance.
He survived the winter. And in the ensuing spring the

The Song Thrush.

Lady-bird! lady-bird! was still the burden of our evening

song. It then ceased, and we never heard this pretty
modulation more. Though merely an occasional strain,
17
 —
THE GOLDFINCH— THE BULLFINCH.

yet I have noticed it elsewhere — it thus appearing to

be a favourite utterance.”
Many have felt as Hurdis did, when he said, in re-

ference to another favourite

I love to see the goldfinch twit and twit,

And pick the groundsel’s feather’d seeds ;

And then, in bovver of apple-blossom perch’d.

Trim his gay suit, and pay us with a song.

The song of the male bird generally begins in March,

and continues improving till the middle of May, at
which time it is in the greatest perfection. He sings
from the perch, but prefers one which is not very lofty.

He begins at daybreak, and continues his strain, with

little intermission, till sunset. He sings later than al-

most any bird indeed, he may be heard in the winter,

;

and sometimes when there is snow on the ground.

The song of the male and female bullfinch, in their
wild state, is very harsh and disagreeable. Yet, if well
taught while young, as they are in Hesse and Tulda,
where there are schools of these little songsters, for
England, Germany, and Holland, they learn to whistle
all kinds of airs and melodies, with so soft and flute-

like a tone, that they are favourites with many. They

become also very tame, and sing whenever they are
required.
18
 ;

THE LARK.

The bullfinch can imitate the songs of other birds

but generally it is not permitted to do so, that it may
only learn to repeat the airs that are taught it. These
birds discover, it appears, when under tuition, different

capacities. One learns with ease and quickness, an-

other slowly, and with difficulty; the former will repeat
without hesitation several parts of a tune it has learned,
the latter will hardly be able to whistle one after several
months of constant teaching. A seller arrives annually
in London, in April or May, with birds for sale, which
have been instructed in this way. They are sold at
the rate of from one to several pounds each, according
as they are more or less accomplished, whilst a wild
one would only cost two or three pence.
The most common of the British songsters is the
lark. It rises upward like a vapour, borne lightly in
the atmosphere, and yielding to its motions. Its ascent
is spiral, gradually enlarging, when the course of the
bird is without disturbance or alarm. Its song accords
with the mode of its soaring. At first it is partially

suppressed, but it swells as the spiral widens.

Then oft beneath a cloud she sweeps along,

Lost for awhile, yet pours her varied song ;

Her form, her motion undistinguish’d quite,

Save when she wheels direct from shade to light.
19
 — ; —
;

THE NIGHTINGALE.

After descending, with a sinking note, half way, the

lark ceases to sing, and drops, with the velocity of an
arrow, to the ground.
The lark is greatly admired by our poet Wordsworth,
who thus addresses it :

Leave to the nightingale the shady wood ;

A privacy of glorious light is thine

Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with rapture more divine
Type of the wise, who soar, but never roam.
True to the kindred points of heaven and home.

A more general preference, however, is reserved for

another bird, whose notes may be heard on the return of
spring. It is when the trees are covered with foliage,
and the hawthorn hedge-rows are whitened with blos-
soms, giving out their perfume to every breeze, and a
mingled profusion of flowerets bespangles bank and
brae, that the voices of unnumbered singing birds are
heard in united harmony. The flowers, indeed, will
soon close, and many songsters will be mute but there ;

is one, whose voice, heard only as yet at intervals, and

undistinguishable, except by nicer ears, from the general

chorus, will then take up the evening hymn, in strains
of richest melody. That songster is a bird of sober
plumage ;
an unostentatious visitor to our shores, and
20
 —
THE NIGHTINGALE.

arrayed in no gaudy trappings to attract attention — it

is the nightingale, the theme of poets in all ages, the

favourite of Milton.

The Nightingale.

The nightingale is one of our soft-billed warblers

and
birds inhabiting our copses, groves, and woodlands ;

hence forming the genus Sylvia of M. Temminck, and

other authors. The chief food of these birds is insects,
but many devour berries and summer fruits with avidity.
21
 THE NIGHTINGALE.

Most go and come with the seasons ;

and of these the
nightingale is the chief. It seldom visits ns before the
latter end of April, or the beginning of May, and de-
parts in August, favouring us with its residence during
a limited portion of our summer months. Its localities
also are as limited as its stay. In the midland counties
it is scarce; in the northern it is but occasionally heard;
and in the western, namely Devonshire and Cornwall,
it is almost unknown. As is the case with all the
migrating birds of the great tribe of warblers, the males
are the first to venture across the Channel, when they
disperse over the country, resorting to thick hedges,
copses, and plantations, where their song resounds at
eve, and where they wait the arrival of their expected
mates. The females follow in a few days, though not
always, for it sometimes happens that cold winds and
unpropitious weather delay their arrival for ten days,
or even a fortnight.
Dr. Latham informs us, that, as is usual among the
migrating warblers, the male bird “ remains on the spot
to which it first resorts, attracting the female by its

song and, if by accident the female is killed, the male,

;

which had become silent, resumes his song, and will

continue to sing late in the summer, till he finds an-
other mate ;
in which case they will breed at a later
22
 !

THE NIGHTINGALE.

season.” To this observation it may be added, that it

is only prior to the work of incubation that the notes

of this bird are poured forth in their fullest melody.
At the latter end of the season, before departure, its

voice has degenerated into a hoarse unmusical note.

The nightingale is universally spread over the Euro-
pean continent, and the proximate parts of Asia. It is
the bulbul of Persian poets. Sonnini tells us, it is

found in Lower Egypt. Thus, from England, through

a wide range of countries, is this unrivalled songster
of the Old World distributed. Who would think of
such a bird being ever destroyed to swell the luxuries
of the table ? Yet we read of Heliogabalus feasting
on dishes made of the tongues of nightingales and ;

Clodius iEsopus had a dish composed of the tongues of

singing birds, among which those of nightingales were
included. This dish, according to Pliny, cost about
£6843 10s. of our money. So much for folly and
extravagant luxury
To keep the nightingale in confinement is very
difficult and we are very glad of it. Why should we
;

imprison the free-born tenant of the air for our grati-

fication ? Why should we feast our ears on the in-

stinctive song of a prisoner, torn from his mate, and

fluttering to visit his grove, and finish his half-built
23
 THE NIGHTINGALE.

nest ? Must the desires of man be pampered at the

expense of the lower creatures ? "We are apt to con-
sider such animals as beings of little value, or as utterly
insignificant. Not so are they in the eyes of Him
without wdiose permission not even a sparrow falls to
the ground.
The nightingale expresses his different feelings by
suitable and particular tones . The most unmeaning cry,
when he is alone, appears to be a simple whistle, the
sound of which is like Jitt but if err be added, it is the
,

call of the male to the female. The sign of displeasure

or fear, is Jitt, repeated rapidly and loudly before adding

err ; while that of pleasure and satisfaction is a deep
tack which may be imitated by smacking the tongue.
,

The male and female nightingale have musical power,

but so striking is that of the former, that he has been
called the king of songsters. In his case, the muscles
of the larynx are much more powerful than those of
any other bird; but it is the compass, flexibility, variety,
and harmony of his voice, rather than its strength,
which calls forth so much admiration. According to
Bechstein, twenty-four different strains, or couplets,
may be reckoned in the song of a fine nightingale,
without including its delicate little variations for among
;

these, as among other musicians there are some great

24
 ! ! !

THE NIGHTINGALE.

performers, and others far inferior. “This song,” he

says, “ is so articulate that it may well be written.

The following is a trial, which I have made, as that of

a nightingale in my neighbourhood, which passes for a

“ Tioft, tioti, tiod, tiod.

Spe, tiou, squa.
Ti 6 , tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tix.

Coutio, coutio, coutio, coutio.

Squo, squo, squo, squo.
Tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzi.
Corror, tiou, squa, pipiqui.
Zozozozozozozozozozozozo, zirrhading
Tsissisi, tsissisisisisisisis.
Dzorrre, dzorre, dzorre dzorre, hi.
Tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, dzi.
Dio, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo dlo.
Quio, tr, rrrrrrrr, itz
Lu, lu, lu, lu, ly, ly, ly, ly, lie, lie, lie, lie.

Quio, didl li lulylie.

Hagurr, gurr, quipio

Coui, coui, coui, coui, qui, qui, qui, qui, gai, gui, gui, gui.
Goll goll goll goll guia hadadoi.
Couigui, horv, ha diadia dill si

Hezezezezezezezezezezezezezezezeze couar ho dze hoi.

Quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, ti.
Ki, ki, ki, i'o, i'o, i'o, ioioioio ki
Lu ly li le lai la leu lo, didl 10 quia.
Kigaigaigaigaigaigaigai guiagaigaigai couior dzio dzio pi.”

Izaak Walton observes, with equal truth and beauty,

25
 THE MOCKING BIRD.

“ He that at midnight, when the weary traveller sleeps

securely, should hear, as I have often done, the clear
airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling,

the doubling and redoubling of the nightingale’s voice,

might well be lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what
music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when
!”
thou affordest bad men such music upon earth
With the nightingale, favourite as it is in many
climes, the mocking-bird, which is peculiar to the New
World, has often been compared. Attired in plumage
having nothing that is gaudy or brilliant, he mounts on
the top of a tall bush, or half-grown tree, in the dawn
of a dewy morning, and, while his native groves are
already vocal with a multitude of warblers, his song
rises far above theirs. The ear, it is said, can listen to
his music alone, to which that of all the others seems a
mere accompaniment. His native notes are full and
bold, and exceedingly varied. The eye is arrested with
his expanded wings, his tail glistening with white, and
the buoyant gaiety of his action, as irresistibly as the
ear is engaged with his song. He sweeps round with
great delight, and he bounds aloft with the celerity of
an arrow, or descends as his notes swell or die away.
While thus exerting himself, a bystander, destitute of
sight, would suppose, so perfect are his imitations, that
26
 THE MOCKING BIRD.

all the feathered tribes had assembled together in a

trial of skill, each striving to produce the utmost effect.

Even birds themselves are frequently imposed upon by

The Mocking Bird.

this admirable mimic ;

they are decoyed by the fancied
calls of their mates, or plunge with haste and fear into
the depths of thickets, at the scream of what they
27
 — — ;

NOTES OF VARIOUS BIRDS.

suppose to be the sparrow-hawk. It cannot, then, excite

surprise, that the mocking-bird has been pronounced
by some natives of the country in which it is found,
superior to every other.
Throughout the year, in England, we may recognise
the notes of some of the feathered tribes. Amidst the
snow and cold of January the cheerful voice of the
woodlark invites attention. In February, the hedge-
sparrow, the blackbird, the yellow-hammer, and the
thrushes begin their songs, which are continued, with-
out intermission, till the days of autumn. April

A month of sunshine, and of showers,

Of balmy breezes, opening flowers

brings the blackcap, with powers of song but little in-

ferior to those of the nightingale ;

the garden fauvette
and indeed various tribes of choristers. At the close
of this month we enter on the most melodious period
of the year.
Every copse
Deep and bush
tangled, tree irregular,
Bending with dewy moisture o’er the heads
Of the coy quiristers that lodge within,
Are prodigal of harmony.

The smaller reed-sparrow withholds his pleasant note

till the cowslips appear in May, and continues singing

28
 ;

COMPLETE SONG OF BIRDS.

till July. The grey linnet builds his nest, and whistles
on till August, then drops his song, and reassumes it

in October, when congregating with his brother min-

strels. Thus is the whole creation filled with cheerful
sounds, as remind us that, in like manner, we
if to

should constantly pour forth the hymn of gratitude.

The complete song of birds includes the call-note :

of the male, in spring the loud, clear, ardent, and fierce

;

notes of defiance at the sight of a foe ;

the soft, tender,
full, and melodious warble of affection the sounds of ;

fear and alarm at the approach of danger the war-cry ;

when a bird of prey appears ;

the note of the parent-
birds to their brood ;
the chirp of the young ;
the soft
tones of the male while feeding the female in the nest
and also those which she emits in receiving the food.
What a beautiful provision is here ! The birds of the
air are prepared by these means to express to each
other their various feelings, their mutual wishes, and
their wants.
It is probable that but few are familiar with “ the
songs of earliest birds it has, however, been observed
by that interesting naturalist, Mr. Knapp, that they
appear abroad at very different periods, as the light of
the morning advances. “ The rook, which seems rather
to rest than to sleep, is perhaps the first to salute the
29
 THE SONG OF EARLIEST BIRDS.

opening day. Always vigilant, tlie least alarm after

retirement rouses instantly the whole assemblage, not
successively, but collectively. The robin, the last bird
that retires in the evening, and one that is frequently
seen flitting about when the owl and the bat ar^visible,
also awakes very early in the morning. Next may be
heard the cheerful melody of the wren, as it bustles
from its ivied roost, when twilight almost hides the
little minstrel from the view. The sparrow, which
lodges in holes, and under the eaves of the rick or
shed, where the light does not soon enter, moves rather
tardily. The blackbird quits its leafy roost in the
ivied ash, and mounting some neighbouring oak, it

gratulates, with mellow, sober voice, the coming day.

4
The plain-song cuckoo grey,’ from some tall tree, now
tells its tale. The lark is in the air, and the ‘
martin
twitters from her earth-built shed',’ all the choristers
are tuning in the grove ;
and amidst such tokens of
awaking pleasure it becomes difficult to note priority
of voice,”
Another fact is too important to be omitted. The
power of singing is not assigned to any chorister larger
than a blackbird. And here we have another instance
of wise and benevolent design. A large bird, pouring
forth its notes, would not be properly concealed, and
30
 ! !

THE SONG OF THE REDEEMED.

would therefore excite the attention of its enemies.

A similar reason may be assigned for the general silence
of female birds ;
a tuneful voice would endanger their
safety while engaged in their maternal duties. How
manifest, then, is the tender regard of God for the
fowls of the air
In concluding these remarks, it is worthy of remem-
brance, that pleasing as the songs of birds are to the
generality of mankind, there are strains incomparably
more delightful. These are grateful to the ear of the
highest orders of our race, to angels, and even to God.
They are the offerings of those who, though born in
sin, have been renewed by the Holy Spirit, and having
renounced all human hope of obtaining the Divine
favour, trust in Christ alone for salvation. Such was
when he commenced
the strain of the beloved disciple
the book of “ The [Revelation “ Unto him that
—
loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own
blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God
and his Father to him be glory and dominion for ever
;

and ever. Amen.” Eev. i. 5, 6. How wondrous is the

love that is thus celebrated ! How great the blessings
which are acknowledged ! How high the honours of
true religion
Is it the privilege of the reader to rejoice in their
31
 THE SONG OF THE REDEEMED.

possession ? Happy indeed is lie ;

his joy is now
“ unspeakable and full of glory;” and hereafter he
shall take his station at the right hand of God, where
there are “ pleasures for evermore.” Is the contrary
his condition ? Then let a sense of the vanity of the
world, of the evil of sin, and of the infinite value of
spiritual blessings, urge him to the fulness which the
gospel reveals, that the sorrows of the transgressor
against God may be exchanged for the song of faith
and of hope. “And the Spirit and the bride say,
Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And
let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let
him take the water of life freely,” Eev. xxii. 17.
INSTINCT OF BIRDS

MIGRATION
 INSTINCT OF BIRDS.

CHAPTER I.

INSTINCT ILLUSTRATED —AFFECTION

AND SYMPATHY NEST —
BUILDING— PARENTAL FEELINGS BOWER BIRDS. —
The amazing diversity that exists in animated beings,
from the smallest creature which has been detected by
the microscope, to the animal that most nearly ap-
proaches to man, presents an interesting and profitable
range for attention and research. In one particular,
however, there is a striking resemblance throughout
the whole series. All are prepared by what is com-
monly called instinct — the gift of the great and all-

wise God — for the circumstances in which they are

placed. In some instances, this bestowment may appear
inferior to others, but it will be invariably found, when
attentively examined, to be absolutely perfect. Of this,
the instinct of birds furnishes a pleasing example. And
3
 THE TURTLE DOYE.

hence it is now proposed to consider it, not indeed ab-

stractedly, but rather as illustrated by facts, many of
which have only recently become known, and all of
which are calculated no less to instruct than to delight.
Instinct appears, for instance, in feelings akin to
those which are displayed by human beings. What

The Turtle Dove.

tenderness is manifested by the turtle dove ! Its at-

tachment to its mate has long been proverbial; but

it is equalled by that of some other birds. Thus, an
African bird, the grenadier grosbeak, which is about
4
 ;

AFFECTION OF PARROTS.

the size of a linnet, was put with a hen goldfinch, into

a cage ;
and, after they had paired, a quantity of grass
and other materials were placed in the cage, to enable
them to make their nest. As soon as the hen began
to sit, the grosbeak took a quantity of the grass and
covered her with it ; and this he did punctually every
day at eleven o’clock, when the sun came upon the cage
— probably the practice of birds in very hot countries.
The little love-parrot, too, sits beside his mate, and
eagerly feeds her from his own bill. A pair of these
birds were confined in the same cage and when the ;

female became ill, her companion showed the strongest

marks of attachment. He carried all the food from
the bottom of the cage, and fed her on her perch
and when she expired, went round and round her in

the greatest agitation, attempting to open her bill and

give her nourishment. He then gradually languished,
and survived her only a few months.
In other cases, the feeling of sympathy seems to be
peculiarly strong. Thus Wilson, the naturalist, ob-

mouth of the
served at one place, thirty miles from the
Kentucky river, great numbers of parrots. About an
hour after sunrise they came screaming through the
woods, to drink the salt water, of which they are re-
markably fond. When they alighted on the ground
5
 ;

SYMPATHY OF PARROTS.

it appeared, at a distance, as if it were covered with a

carpet of the richest green, orange, and yellow. They
afterwards settled on a neighbouring tree, which stood
by they covered almost every twig of it, and the
itself ;

bright beams of the sun, shining strongly on their

gay and glossy plumage, presented a very beautiful and
splendid appearance. The mind revolts as it thinks
of a gun discharged in such circumstances but this ;

being done, and a number of the parrots shot, some

of which were only wounded, the rest swept re-

peatedly round their prostrate companions, and again

settled on a low tree at a short distance. At each
successive discharge, though showers of them fell, yet
the affection of the survivors appeared to increase
for, after a few circuits round the place, they again
alighted, and looked down on their slaughtered com-
panions, in a manner that clearly showed their sympathy
and concern.
One parrot, called Poll by Wilson, was carried by
him upwards of a thousand miles in his pocket, but regu-
larly liberated at meal-times and in the evening, to
its great satisfaction. On arriving at the house of a
friend, he procured a cage, and placed it under the
piazza, where, by its call, it soon attracted the passing
flocks : such is the attachment they have for each other.
6
 SYMPATHY OF PARROTS.

Numerous parties frequently alighted in the trees above,

keeping up a constant conversation with the prisoner.
One of these was wounded slightly in the wing ;
and
the pleasure expressed by Poll on meeting with this
new companion was really amusing. She crept close
up to it as it hung on the side of the cage, chattering
to it in a low tone of voice, as if sympathizing in its

misfortune, scratched about its head and neck with her

bill ; and both at night nestled as close as possible to
each other, sometimes the head of Poll being thrust
through the plumage of its companion. On the death
of her friend she appeared restless and inconsolable for
several days.
The building of nests may be taken as affording
another instance of the instinct of birds. Without,
however, describing the usual process, it may be re-

marked, that the mode pursued by these little artificers

is not always the same ; on the contrary, it varies so as

to suit new and peculiar circumstances. In our own

island, the nests of each particular species, when built
in the open country, are always essentially alike ;
yet
when reared near towns and villages, where the same
materials are not to be obtained, their form is adapted
to their situation, and to the substance of which they
are constructed.
 AFRICAN NEST

The engraving represents one recently brought from

Africa, and well deserves attention. It is composed of

An African Nest.

the down of plants, felted as it were, so as to form a

tolerably compact, though soft and delicate fabric,
8
 SINGULAR DEFENCE.

having a narrow entrance near the upper portion of the

dome. This nest is generally placed among the twigs
of thorny shrubs, but sometimes at the extremity of
the branches of trees. This nest is usually of great com-
parative size ; but though different specimens vary in

this respect, yet, however large they may be, it is only

in external volume, the walls being very thick, while
the inner cavity of the largest does not exceed that of
the smallest. Abundance or deficiency of material
may tend to cause this difference, which varies from
five, six, or eight inches to a foot in outward measure-
ment, or even more, while the diameter of the cavity
within is about three inches. Its colour varies with
the raw material of which it is made; often it is of
snowy whiteness, at other times it is of a brownish hue.
Its outer form, though globular as a whole, is irre-

gular, according to the direction of the branches on

which it rests, and to which it is so intimately attached
that it is impossible to move it without tearing the sub-
stance, and leaving flakes and shreds of it still adhering.
The twigs, indeed, pass through its walls, and are firmly
embraced by the felted mass of down. Irregularity,

however, only prevails without. If the finger be passed

into it, surprise will be felt that a little bird, with no

instrument except its beak, wings, and legs, should
9
 SINGULAR DEFENCE.

succeed so far as to render the lining of down as

united and smooth as cloth of delicate texture.
The entrance to the nest is a narrow circular open-
ing, through a short neck projecting from some part
near the upper portion of the dome, as convenience 01
the situation of the nest may determine. At the base
of the neck there may be observed, in the engraving,
a little recess, which is intended to receive the end of
the neck when pressed together by the wings or beak
of the birds, so that the entrance to the nest may be
completely concealed. The specimen now lying before
the writer, in which, from the softness of the material,
a few touches will do all that is required to close the
nest, affords a most interesting illustration of the saga-

city of birds. The artificer of this nest is the pincpinc,

a bird resembling, in its habits and manners, our own
wren, and in some respects those of the lark.
Objects of interest may be discovered wherever
in our rambles we can trace the haunts of birds, and
there observe
Their exquisitely woven nests ; where lie

Their callow offspring, quiet as the down

On their own breasts, tillfrom her search the dam,
With laden bill, returns, and shares the meal
Among her clamorous suppliants, all agape ;

Then, cowering o’er them with expanded wings,

She feels how sweet it is to be a mother.
10
 CARE OF BIRDS FOR THEIR YOUNG.

It is, indeed, as parents that birds display their

strongest feelings. The hen, timid in other circum-
stances, appears with a new spirit when surrounded by
her brood, and is ready to defend them from every
foe at the peril of her life. The missel- thrush, during
the breeding season, will fight even the jay or the
magpie. A bird not much larger than a swallow has
been known to attack a hawk. A pair of ravens,
which dwelt in a cavity of the rock of Gibraltar, would
never suffer a vulture or eagle to approach the nest, but
drove it away with every appearance of fury. Similar
strength of feeling is manifested in different circum-
stances. One instance of this is given us by White, of
Selborne. The common fly-catcher was accustomed to
build every year in the vines that grew on the walls of
his house ; and one year a pair inadvertently placed
their neston a naked bough. They did so, perhaps,
when the season was shady, and they could not antici-
pate the inconvenience that followed. Hot sunny wea-
ther, however, coming on before the brood was half
fledged, the reflection of the wall would have destroyed
the brood had not the parent birds averted the evil, by
hovering over the nest all the hotter hours, while with
wings expanded, and mouths gaping for breath, they
screened the heat from their suffering offspring.
11
 —; —
CARE OF BIRDS FOR THEIR YOUNG.

In other instances artifice is manifest:

Hence, around the head
Of wandering swain the white-winged plover wheels
Her sounding flight, and then directly on
In long excursion skims the level lawn,
To tempt him from her nest the wild duck, hence,
:

O’er the rough moss ;

and o’er the trackless waste
The heath-hen flutters, all intent to lead
The hot-pursuing spaniel far astray.

Nor is the display of other feelings wanting :

The nightingale,
When returning with her loaded bill,

The astonished mother finds a vacant nest,

By the hard hands of unrelenting clowns
Robb’d to the ground the vain provision falls
;
!

Her pinions ruffle, and low drooping, scarce

Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade
Where, all abandoned to despair, she sings
Her sorrows through the night and in the bough ;

Sole sitting, still at every dying fall

Takes up again her lamentable strain

Of winding woe till, wide around, the woods
;

Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound.

It is worthy of remark, that where a nest is not

built, and where the tenderness discoverable in con-
nexion with such a dwelling is not manifest, there is

no want of provision for the bird or its young. The

cuckoo of Europe, for example, does not lay its eggs
in other birds' nests indiscriminately, but chooses only
those of soft-billed, insect-eating birds, to which it can
12
 ;

THE SATIN BOWER-BIRD.

entrust the proper feeding of its progeny. And North

American cuckoos display an equal sagacity in select-
ing the nests of the cowpen birds. The burrowing owls,
found in some parts of the United States, reside ex-
clusively in the villages of the marmot, or prairie dog.

The excavations made by this creature are so com-

modious as to render it unnecessary that the bird should
dig for itself, as it is said to do in other parts of the

world, where no burrowing animals exist.

In some cases no information is possessed as to the
nest of the bird ; of which the satin bower- bird of Aus-
tralia may be cited as an example. The indefatigable
naturalist, Mr. Gould, used his utmost endeavours, but
could never discover the nest and eggs of this species
nor could he obtain any authentic information from the
natives or the colonists, a proof of the artifice employed
in its concealment. Still, a remarkable display of in-
stinct is apparent. This bird constructs, on the ground,
a bower or arbour, which is not used as a nest, but
as a playing ground, or hall of assembly, and which
it decorates with beautiful feathers. This fabric is

usually placed under the shelter of the branches of

some overhanging tree, in the most retired part of the
forest the size and the quantity of
: materials used dif-
fering in different circumstances.
13
 THE SATIN BOWER-BIRD.

The structure of these bowers is as follows. An

extensive and rather convex floor or base is laid, com-

Tlie Satin Bower-Bird.

posed of sticks firmly interwoven together; and about

the centre the bower is built, in the form of two parallel
walls, at a little distance apart These consist of
14
 THE SATIN BOWER-BIRD.

slender, flexible twigs and stems, so arranged as to

curve inwards, and nearly meet at the top, forming an
avenue arched over head. The twigs are so placed that
the forks and projections are always outwards, the
interior being free from any obstruction to the passage
of the birds through the avenue. The bower is deco-
rated at and near the entrance with the most gaily-
coloured articles that can be collected, such as the
feathers of parrots. Some of these are stuck in among
the twigs ; while others, with bleached bones and shells,
are strewed about near the entrance.
What is the precise object of this bower it is not
easy to determine. There are numerous points in the

habits and economy of animals, the design of which

we cannot penetrate. As, however, God delights in
his works, and provides for the happiness of his crea-
tures according to their capability of enjoyment, it

may be that these bowers are instinctively arranged,

with no farther object than to afford pleasure. Cer-
tainly they are not used as nests, but as places of
resort for many individuals of both sexes, which, when
there assembled, run through and round the bower in a
sportive and playful manner ;
and that so constantly, that
it is seldom entirely deserted — at least, during the spring
and summer.
15
 THE SPOTTED BOWER-BIRD.

The spotted bower-bird constructs an arched avenue

of twigs, often exceeding three feet in the length of the

The Spotted Bower-Bird.

and smooth are used for it as a lining,

run ;
grasses tall

and the ornaments consist of pebbles, bleached shells,

to the sun and air.
and bones whitened by exposure
16
 —

CHAPTER II.

ILLUSTRATION OF INSTINCT CONTINUED — SENSE OF DANGER

PURSUIT OF FOOD — INCUBATION—MIGRATION — POWER OF IMI-
TATION —WHAT IS INSTINCT — THE HUMAN SOUL.
?

Among the displays of instinct on which we are now

dwelling, may be noticed that sense of coming peril

which has been afforded by a wise and beneficent Pro-

vidence. Had birds escaped some particular danger,
they would naturally avoid it, as some do the gun of
the sportsman ; but they are found actually to shun it, in

cases where they have had no intimation of its approach.

As soon, for instance, as a young duck has escaped
from the shell, it will swim in a pond, and catch gnats
and flies ; but it will avoid a wasp, the sting of which
would prove injurious, if not fatal. Young chickens,
too, will show no fear at the sight of a goose or a tur-
key ;
but if a hawk hovers at a distance in the air, they
will promptly seek the defence of their mother’s wing.

Rooks, while providing for their offspring, generally

cater apart; but after the breeding season, like some

c 17
 ;

SENSE OF DANGER.

other birds, they have sentinels while feeding in parties.

So vigilant are these sentinels, that there is some dif-

ficulty in getting within shot of a foraging party ; and

hence it has been supposed that rooks smell gunpowder.
A walking-stick, if levelled at them, will, however, pro-
duce equal alarm. Another curious fact may be men-
tioned, in reference to a bird which visits us in summer,
and is known by its cry of “ Crake, crake.” The corn-
crake, as it is called, has the power, in common with
some other creatures, of feigning death. A dog hav-
ing brought one to a gentleman, which was dead to all

appearance, he turned it over with his foot as it lay

on the ground. He was convinced it was so, but stand-
ing by in silence for some time, he suddenly saw the
lorncrake open an eye ; he then took it up, but its

head fell, its legs hung loose, it appeared, as before,

totally dead. He then put it into his pocket, but there

he soon felt it to be alive and struggling to escape ; he

took it out, and it appeared lifeless as before. He
soon laid it on the ground, and stood at some distance
in a few minutes it carefully raised its head, looked
round, and started off at full speed.
A series of interesting facts might be selected, show-
ing the expedients adopted by instinct in procuring
food ;
we can, however, only mention one or two. Mr.
18
 —
THE HONEY-BIRD.

Pringle, an interesting traveller and poet, speaks of

the country of the Caffer
Where laughing maids at sunset roam,
To bear the juicy melons home ;

And striplings from Kalumna’s wood

Bring wild grapes and the pigeon’s brood.
With fragrant hoard of honey-bee
Rifled from the hollow tree.

The manner in which the spoil is obtained is not a

little remarkable. In some parts of Africa wild honey
is found in abundance ; and the natives, in searching for
it, frequently avail themselves of the singular instinct
of the bee-cuckoo, or honey-bird. This bird, some-
what larger than the common sparrow, is well known
in that country for its extraordinary power of discover-
ing the hives or nests of the wild bees, which are there
constructed in hollow trees, in crevices of the rocks,
or in holes in the ground. The bird being extremely
fond of honey, and at the same time unable, without
assistance, to gain access to the hives, is supplied with
the means of calling to its aid certain other animals,
and especially of man, to enable it to secure its object.
It usually sits on a tree by the way-side ;
and when
any passenger approaches, greets him with its peculiar
cry of cherr-a-cheer ! cherr-a-cheer ! If he shows any
disposition to attend to its call, it goes before him in
19
 THE FISH-HAWK.

short flights from tree to tree, till it conducts him to

a spot where it knows a bee-hive to be concealed. It

thensits still and silent till he has extracted the honey-

comb, of which it expects a portion as its share of the

spoil ; and this share the natives, who profit by its

guidance, never fail to leave it.

It is stated, that the ratel, or honey-badger, avails

itself of the help of this bird to discover the retreat of
those bees that build their nests in the ground, and
shares with it the plunder of these abodes. It is also

asserted, that the honey-bird sometimes calls to its aid

the woodpecker, a bird which finds in the caterpillar
or the young bees a treat as enticing to its taste as the
honey is to that of its ingenious associate.
The habits of the fish-hawk are very peculiar. It

subsists on the finny tribes that swarm in bays, creeks,

and rivers ; it procures its prey by its own active skill

and industry, and appears dependent on the land only
as a resting-place, or, in the usual season, as a spot for
its nest, eggs, and young. On the arrival of these
birds in the northern part of the United States in the
month of March, they sometimes find the bays and
ponds frozen, and experience a difficulty for many days
m procuring fish ;
yet there is no instance on record
of their attacking birds or inferior land-animals to
20
 ;

THE FISH-HAWK.

supply the deficiency, though from their strength it would

seem they could do this with ease. As soon as they
arrive, however, they wage war on the bald eagles,
as if these were a herd of robbers, sometimes by their
numbers and perseverance driving them from their
haunts, but seldom or never attacking them in single
combat.
In the pursuit of food, the fish-hawk, leaving the nest,
usually flies direct until he comes to the sea, and then
sails round in easy curving lines, turning sometimes
in the air as on a pivot, apparently without the least
exertion, rarely moving his wings, and with his legs ex-

tended in a straight line behind. The height at which he

thus glides varies from one hundred to two hundred feet
sometimes he ascends much higher, but all the while
he calmly reconnoitres the face of the deep. Suddenly
he is seen to check his course, as if struck by a par-
ticular object ;
and so intently does he survey it, for a

few moments, that he appears flapping his wing and

fixed in the air. It was a fish on which his eye was
fastened, but it has disappeared, and he is seen sailing
round as before. Again his attention is caught, and
he descends with great rapidity ;
but before he reaches
the surface shoots off on another course, as if ashamed
he had been foiled a second time. He now flies at a
21
 THE FISH-HAWK.

short distance above the surface, and then, by a zigzag

descent, and without seeming to dip his feet in the
water, seizes a fish, which, after carrying a short dis-
tance, he perhaps drops, or yields up to the bald eagle,
and again ascends by easy spiral circles to the higher

regions of the air, where he glides hither and thither

with all the ease, elegance, and majesty of his species.
From this aerial height he now suddenly descends like
a perpendicular torrent, and plunges into the sea with
a loud rushing sound. In a few moments he emerges,
bearing in his claws the struggling prey, which he
always carries head foremost ; and having risen a few
feet above the surface, shakes himself like a water-

spaniel, and directs his heavy and laborious course

straight to the land. Should the wind blow hard, and
his nest lie in the quarter from whence it comes, he
beats to windward with judgment and energy, not in a

direct line, but by making several successive tacks to

gain his purpose.
Remarkable as his flight appears, it becomes more
so if the size of the fish which he sometimes bears along
be considered. A shad was taken from a fish-hawk,
and though he had eaten a considerable portion of it,

the remainder weighed six pounds. Other instances

are mentioned in which a large booty was secured. It
22
 THE BRUSH-TURKEY.

is singular that the hawk never descends to pick up a

fish which he happens to drop, either on the land or the
water. Sometimes when fishing he mistakes his mark,
or overrates his strength, by striking a fish too large
and powerful for him to manage ;
in this case he is

dragged under the water, and though he sometimes

succeeds in extricating himself, after being taken three
or four times down, yet oftener both parties perish in
the struggle. The body of a sturgeon, or of some other
large fish, with a hawk fast grappled in it, has, at
different times, been found dead on the shore, cast up
by the waves.
Another instance of the power of instinct may be
derived from the process of incubation ;
and, for the
sake of variety, the brush-turkey of Australia may be
noticed, whose habits in this respect are very peculiar.
This bird collects together an immense heap of decay-
ing vegetable matter as a depository for the eggs, and
trusts to the heat engendered by decomposition for
the development of the young. The heap employed
for this purpose is collected by the birds during several
weeks previous to the period of laying : it varies in size
from two to four cart-loads, and is in the form of a
perfect pyramid. The construction of this mound is

not the work of one pair of birds, but of the united

23
 THE BRUSH-TURKEY.

labours of several. The same site appears to be resort-

ed to for several years in succession, the birds adding a
fresh supply of materials previously to laying. In every
instance in which Mr. Gould saw these mounds, they
were placed retired and shady glens, and
in the most
on the slope of a hill. The ground above was al-
ways scratched clean, while that below appeared to be
untouched, as if the birds had found it more conve-
nient to bring the materials down the hill than to throw
them up.
The mode in which the materials are accumulated is

equally singular; the bird never using its beak, but

always grasping a quantity in its foot, throwing it back-
wards to one common centre ;
and thus clearing the
surface of the ground for a considerable distance so
completely, that scarcely a leaf or a blade of grass is

left. The heap being accumulated, and the time al-

lowed for sufficient heat to be engendered, the eggs are
deposited, not side by side, but at the distance of nine
or twelve inches from each other, and buried at nearly
an arm's depth, perfectly upright, with the large end
upwards. They are covered up as they are laid, and
allowed to remain until hatched. It is not unusual foi

natives and settlers living far from their haunts, to

obtain nearly a bushel of eggs at one time from a
24
 !

MIGRATION.

single heap ;
and as they are delicious eating, they are
eagerly sought after.
The migration of birds is too remarkable to escape
the glimpse we are taking at the sagacity of the fea-
thered tribes. As it regards our island, their course
is both northwards and southwards ;
in other words,
there are a periodical ebb and tide of spring and winter
visitors. How fully adapted is this fact to lead the mind
to that Almighty Power, which, impelling the birds of
the air from zone to zone,

Guides through the boundless sky their certain flight

No sooner do the daisy, the cowslip, and the violet

adorn our meadows, than a multitude of them appear,
as if they had just sprung into existence. With the
advance of the season, they have gradually worked
their way from the regions of the south, where, during
our winter of frost and cold, they have enjoyed food and
warmth. But they are still our birds, for here they build
their nests, and rear their young, and return, many at
least, year after year, to their old and well-tried haunts.

Our summer birds of passage live on that kind of food

which they find it impossible to procure during the
severities of winter ; in addition to which they are in-

capable of sustaining a low degree of temperature, and

25
 THE SWALLOW.

hence they seek not only a region where their wants

may be supplied, but a genial climate. Their visit

to our shores depends, however, on the weather, which

appears to hasten or retard their progress. It often

occurs that a few, taking advantage of a favourable

opportunity, arrive some days before the main body,
which is detained by a sudden return of bad weather :

The Swallow.
thus verifying the adage, “ One swallow does not make
a summer.’' One singular fact connected with the ar-
rival of our welcome visitors is this — the males appear
in our woodlands several days, sometimes a week or two,
before the females join them. It would seem as if they
came to look out for a fit spot, a deep glen, or hawthorn
26
 THE STORK,

hedge, to which to invite their expected mates, for their

notes of call are heard in all directions.
Truly 4 4
the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed
times/’ The north of Africa, and especially Egypt,
are the places of its winter sojourn, for there are a
genial temperature and abundant food. In the month
of March, or the beginning of April, this bird arrives

The Stork.

in small bands, or flocks, in Holland, where it univer-

sally meets with a kind and hospitable reception. It

returns year after year to the same town, and the same
chimney-top ; it re-occupies its deserted nest and the;

27
 ;

MIGRATION.

gladness with which storks again take possession of their

dwelling, and the attachment they manifest towards
their benevolent hosts, have often been mentioned.
Is it asked, Whither do all our summer visitors retire

on leaving the temperate latitudes of Europe ? It may

be replied, that all follow the mighty stream southwards
some stop short on the confines of Europe ; some pene-
trate into the adjacent parts of Asia ; but more, pro-
bably, find in Africa, ever teeming with insect tribes,
all they require. Other birds there are, natives of the

region of the Arctic Circle — dwellers among morasses

and forests, which afford, during summer, an abundance
of food, and every advantage in rearing their young.
Winter sets in early there ;
and when it begins to freeze
the lakes, and harden the surface of the earth, they
depart southwards, arriving in our latitudes as our
summer birds are departing. They do not, however,
fill their place, for theirs is not the voice of song ; or, if

m some instance it should be, the voice is mute, food

only being the object of their visit. But if our winter
guests are not prized for their melody, many are as
luxuries for the table, of which the snipe, the wood-
cock, and the fieldfare, may be cited as examples.

To allude to only one more instance of instinctive

power, reference may be made to the capacity for imi-
28
 ; ; —;

TRAINING OF PELICANS.

tation with which all birds, to some extent, and others

to a very remarkable degree are gifted. Montgomery
has described some of the movements of the pelicans :

On beetling rocks the little ones were marshalled

There by endearments, stripes, example, urged
To try the void convexity of heaven,
And plough the ocean’s horizontal field.

Timorous, at first they fluttered round the verge.

Balanced and furled their hesitating wings,
Then put them forth again with steadier aim
Now gaining courage as they felt the wind
Dilate their feathers, fill their airy frames
With buoyancy that bore them from their feet,
They yielded all their burthen to the breeze.
And sailed and soared where’er their guardians led.
Ascending, hovering, wheeling, or alighting,
They searched the deep in quest of nobler game
Than yet their inexperience had encountered :

With these they battled in that element,

Where wings or fins were equally at home,
Till, conquerors in many a desperate strife,

They dragged their spoils to land, and gorged at leisure.

Many caged birds, when young, will readily learn the

notes of birds in the same room. One is mentioned

which, from hearing the call of the sparrows out of
doors, acquired it perfectly ; he also learned many of
the notes of a blackcap, which was hanging near
and, afterwards, attempted some of the notes of a robin,
whose cage hung under his. At the same time, he
29
 ;

WHAT IS INSTINCT?

could utter the call-note of his own species. In some

instances the power of imitation is truly extraordinary,
until we reach the mocking-bird, which Southey calls

That cheerful one, who knoweth all

The songs of all the winged choristers
And, in one sequence of melodious sounds.
Pours all their music.

The ability of parrots to speak, and to increase their

stock of words and phrases, is a fact with which all are
familiar, and on which no space is left to expatiate.
Having now accomplished the design proposed in
offering some illustration of the sagacity of birds, the
question may, perhaps, be proposed, What is instinct ?
To this it may be replied, that what it is in itself we
cannot ascertain. It is enough for us to know, that

instinct is a gift of the all-wise Creator to the feathered

tribes, in common with other creatures, preparing them,
not only for the ordinary, but for peculiar circumstances
allotted to them in his Providence.
If instinct, in certain respects, resembles the minds
with which we are endowed, there are others in

which a contrariety is clearly apparent. Instinct may

be improved by skilful training up to a certain point,
but beyond this it is impossible to proceed. The circle

in which it moves is, and must be, extremely small.

30
 —
THE HUMAN SOUL.

The human mind, on the contrary, has a marvellous

capacity for progression. Placed in circumstances fa-

vourable to its development, it expands from the days

of infancy to those of age ; and even then we know no-
thing of its decline, but only of the decay of the instru-
ments which it employs in its service.

Unlike the instinct of inferior creatures, the mind

the soul — is immortal ; and prepared, therefore, for a
constant advancement in the world of blessedness, or
for inconceivable degradation and wretchedness in the

world of woe. Let every reader, then, propose the

solemn inquiry, To which state am I going? Am I

in the path which will lead to the presence of God

and the Lamb, to the innumerable company of angels,
and to the society of the redeemed; or am I on the
road which conducts to the prison of impenitent and
condemned spirits ?
With what seriousness should we attend to the words
of the adorable Redeemer “ The Father loveth the
:

Son, and hath given all things into his hand He that !

believeth on the Son hath everlasting life and he that :

believeth not the Son shall not see life but the wrath ;

of God abideth on him,” John iii. 35, 36. It is, there-

fore, that crediting of the testimony of God which leads

the soul to renounce all hope of saving itself, and to
31
 !

FAITH IN CHRIST.

repose its whole trust on our Lord Jesus Christ, that

It is by this faith that we obey the
issues in salvation.
“
charge to look” to him that we accept his invitation
;

to “ come to him ” that we are said to u eat his flesh,

;

and to drink his blood.” Without faith, we can no more

be saved than we could have been if the Son of God
had remained in the bosom of the Father, and left a
world of transgressors to perish.
Should any one who reads this page be convinced by
the dictates of eternal truth that he is still in a state of
unbelief, the gospel of the grace of God demands his

immediate reception ;
it presents before him that message
of compassion which it behoves him to embrace, and it

points to that throne of mercy from whence all he needs

may be obtained. Oh that without delay he may ex-
ercise that faith which is the gift of God, which works
by love, purifies the heart, and overcomes the world

(9

32
 Library

of the

University of Toronto