Chapter XIV: Introduction: Science (13)

The partridge is an interesting bird and shows great intelligence in the care of its young. Mr. Jesse mentions an instance quoted by Mr. Wood. "A gentleman who was overlooking his ploughman, saw a partridge run from her nest, almost crushed by the horses' hoofs. Being certain that the next furrow must bury the eggs and nest, he watched for the return of the plough, when to his great astonishment, the nest, previously containing twenty-one eggs, was vacant. After a search, he found the bird sitting upon the eggs under a hedge, nearly forty yards from the nest, to which place she and her mate had removed the whole number in less than twenty minutes." Mr. Markwick relates, that "as he was once hunting with a young pointer, the dog ran on a brood of very small partridges. The old bird cried, fluttered, and ran trembling along just before the dog's nose, till she had drawn him to a considerable distance; when she took wing and flew farther off, but not out of the field. On this the dog returned nearly to the place where the young ones lay concealed in the grass; which the old bird no sooner perceived, than she flew back again, settled just before the dog's nose, and a second time acted the same part, rolling and tumbling about till she drew off his attention from the brood, and thus succeeded in preserving them."

The Wild Turkey.

The Wild Turkey was at one time common in all parts of America, but it is fast diminishing, and is now seldom found except in the western territories. It is often larger than the domestic turkey; it is gregarious and feeds on grain, seeds, and fruits. It is the original stock of the domestic turkey. Mr. Lucien Bonaparte has given a long and interesting account of this bird. He says they sometimes fly across broad rivers, ascending the tallest trees on one side, and the whole flock starting together. Some of the younger and weaker birds sometimes fall into the water and either paddle to the shore or are drowned.

The Domestic Turkey.

The Wild Turkey was first carried to Europe and other parts of the eastern continent and domesticated in the 16th century. It is now extensively diffused over the world, and its flesh is ranked among the most delicious poultry. The cock is a noisy fellow, strutting about, and displaying his plumage with great ostentation; he is also very quarrelsome. The hen seems to possess a more modest and retiring disposition, wandering about the fields with a melancholy and dejected air, occasionally uttering a short plaintive note. She is exceedingly attached to her young, but leads them away from danger without ever attempting to defend them by repelling an attack.

The Sagacity of the Turkey.

Of the sagacity of the Turkey Audubon says: "While at Henderson, on the Ohio, I had a fine male turkey, which had been reared from its earliest youth under my care. It became so tame that it would follow any person who called it, and was the favourite of the little village. Yet it would never roost with the tame turkeys; but regularly betook itself at night to the roof of the house, where it remained till dawn. When two years old it began to fly to the woods, where it remained for a considerable part of the day, and returned to the enclosure as night approached. It continued this practice until the following spring, when I saw it several times fly from its roosting-place to the top of a high cotton-tree on the bank of the Ohio, from which, after resting a little, it would sail to the opposite shore, the river being there nearly half a mile wide, and return towards night. One morning I saw it fly off, at a very early hour, to the woods in another direction, and took no particular notice of the circumstance. Several days elapsed, but the bird did not return. I was going towards some lakes near Green River, to shoot, when, having walked about five miles, I saw a fine large gobbler cross the path before me, moving leisurely along. Turkeys being then in prime condition for the table, I ordered my dog to chase it and put it up. The animal went off with great rapidity, and as it approached the turkey, I saw, with great surprise, that the latter paid little attention. Juno was on the point of seizing it, when she suddenly stopped, and turned her head towards me. I hastened to them; but you may easily conceive my surprise when I saw my own favourite bird, and discovered that it had recognised the dog, and would not fly from it, although the sight of a strange dog would have caused it to run off at once. A friend of mine, being in search of a wounded deer, took the bird on his saddle before him, and carried it home for me. The following spring it was accidentally shot, having been taken for a wild bird, and brought to me, on being recognised by the red ribband which it had round its neck."

Sitting Turkey Cocks.

The male Turkey is said to be but an indifferent father, but there are some curious illustrations on record of his displaying maternal instincts. Captain Brown tells of a cock Turkey near Abingdon who manifested a desire to sit and was allowed to experiment with thirteen eggs, from which in three weeks he hatched twelve fine chickens. A precisely similar incident occurred many years ago in Sweden, according to the same authority.

Domestic Fowls.

The Domestic Fowls are too well known to need description here. They are said to have descended from the Java species and have long been the subjects of systematic and careful culture. John Guillim who wrote in 1677 and whose quaint description of the peacock we have already quoted, says: "As some account the eagle the queen, and the swallow or wagtail the lady, so may I term this (the cock) the knight amongst birds, being both of noble courage, and also prepared evermore to the battel, having his comb for an helmet, his sharp and hooked bill for a faulchion or court-lax, to slash and wound his enemy: and as a compleat soldier armed cap-a-pe, he hath his legs armed with spurs, giving example to the valiant soldier to expell danger by fight, and not by flight. The cock croweth when he is victor and giveth a testimony of his conquest. If he be vanquished, he shunneth the light, and society of men." The cock is a courageous bird and in fighting with his own kind or in the defence of his family will show great gallantry and endurance. Buffon thus describes an encounter of which he was an observer. He says: "I have just witnessed a curious scene. A sparrow hawk alighted in a populous court-yard; when a young cock, of this year's hatching, instantly darted at him, and threw him on his back. In this situation, the hawk defending himself with his talons and his bill, intimidated the hens and turkeys, which streamed tumultuously around him. After having a little recovered himself, he rose and was taking wing; when the cock rushed upon him a second time, upset him, and held him down so long, that he was easily caught by a person who witnessed the conflict." The cock is said to show many of the qualities which belong to knighthood. He is jealous, and has been known to kill a hen which has hatched a foreign brood; and he is chivalrous both in the treatment of his hens and in their defence against their enemies. He has a sense of justice too, which he does not hesitate to assert on occasion. Mrs. Bowdich says: "On one occasion I saw a cock pursue a hen round the poultry-yard; and, as she had a worm in her bill, I at first thought he was so acting from a greedy desire to have the delicious morsel; but when he at last caught her, he gave her a knock on the head with his beak, and, taking up the worm which she had dropped, brought it to another hen, who stood witnessing the affray in mute expectation. A further knowledge of the habits of these birds has made me feel sure she had purloined the worm from the other, and the cock had restored it to its rightful owner." Though natural fighters, cocks sometimes form friendships for each other, and Captain Brown records an instance of two game cocks, belonging to the same owner, who obstinately declined combat though all means were tried to excite mutual animosity. These same birds when placed in the ring with other cocks fought furiously, and in both cases destroyed their antagonists.

The Common Hen.

The hen gathering her chickens under her wings is a favourite type of motherhood, and it cannot be denied that in many ways the hen shows herself a model parent. The care she will expend upon her brood, or upon a brood of ducks which she may have hatched, is well known, and the courage she will show in their defence is well attested. The following from the "Percy Anecdotes" is an illustration of this: "In June, 1820, a contest of rather an unusual nature took place in the house of Mr. Collins, at Naul in Ireland. The parties concerned were, a hen of the game species, and a rat of the middle size. The hen, in an accidental perambulation round a spacious room, accompanied by an only chicken, the sole surviving offspring of a numerous brood, was roused to madness by an unprovoked attack made by a voracious rat, on her unsuspecting companion. The shrieks of the beloved captive, while dragged away by the enemy, excited every maternal feeling in the affectionate bosom of the feathered dame: she flew at the corner whence the alarm arose, seized the lurking enemy by the neck, writhed him about the room, put out one of his eyes in the engagement, and so fatigued her opponent by repeated attacks of spur and bill, that in the space of twelve minutes, during which time the conflict lasted, she put a final period to the invader's existence; nimbly turned round, in wild but triumphant distraction, to her palpitating nestling, and hugged it in her victorious bosom." In this same work there is a story of a hen, near Exeter, which devoted itself with much assiduity and success to catching mice. Hens often take to other animals and have been known to show great attachment to kittens, and to dogs, instances being recorded of hens living in dogs' kennels and laying their eggs there under canine protection. The concern shown by hens, when the ducks they may have hatched take to the water, is very amusing. Captain Brown gives an instance of a hen which had become used to this phenomena, from having been employed in hatching successive broods of ducks, and which showed equal concern when a brood of her own chickens avoided the watery element.

ORDER VI.

The Hoazin.

The Hoazin is the only bird of this order. It belongs to Brazil and Guiana and is nearly as large as the peacock. It has been variously classified but, differing in important characteristics from any other bird, it is deemed best to place it in an order by itself.

ORDER VII.

Birds of Prey.

This order includes the Vultures, Condors, Eagles, Kites, Falcons, Goshawks, Sparrowhawks, Buzzards, Kestrals, Owls, &c., &c. Interesting as many of these birds are the briefest possible mention is all that we can give of some of them.

The Eagle.

Whatever may be said of the claims of other birds, the Eagle is traditionally the king of the air, as the lion is king of the forest. There are a large number of species of which the Golden Eagle, the Spotted Eagle, the Imperial Eagle and the White-headed Sea Eagle are among the best known varieties. The Golden Eagle belongs to Europe and America, and is sometimes found in Scotland and Ireland. It lives upon smaller birds and animals: hares, young lambs and deer, grouse, plovers, &c., &c. Though the eagle has often attacked children the stories of its carrying them away are generally discredited. Eagles often hunt in pairs and show great ferocity and determination in attacking their prey.

Eagle Shooting.

Mr. St. John gives the following description of a shooting expedition in which he bagged a pair of splendid birds. "On a very dark morning I sallied out with Malcolm to take a shot at the eagles, and at last I was ensconced in a hiding-place (near the dead body of a sheep) which gave me hardly room to stand, sit, or lie. It was scarcely grey dawn when a bird with a slow, flapping flight passed, and alighted out of sight, but near, for I heard him strike the ground, and my heart beat faster. What was my disappointment, when his low, crowing croak announced a raven; he hopped and walked suspiciously round the sheep, till, supposing the coast clear, he hopped upon the carcase, and began with his cut and thrust beak to dig at the meat. Another raven soon joined him, and then two more, who, after a kind of parley, were admitted to their share of the banquet. They suddenly set up a croak of alarm, stopped feeding, and all turned their knowing eyes in one direction. At that moment I heard a sharp scream, but very distant. The black party heard it too, and instantly darted off, alighting again at a little distance. Next came a rushing noise, and the monarch of the clouds lighted at once on the sheep. He quietly folded up his wings, and, throwing back his magnificent head, looked round at the ravens, as if wondering at their impudence in approaching his breakfast; they kept a respectful silence, and hopped further away. The royal bird then turned his head in my direction, his bright eye that instant catching mine, as it glanced along the barrel of my gun. He rose, I drew the trigger, and he fell quite dead six yards from the sheep. As one eagle is always followed by a second, I remained quiet, in hopes that his mate was not within hearing of my shot. I had not waited many minutes when I saw the other eagle skimming low over the brow of the hill towards me. She did not alight at once, but her eye catching the dead body of her mate, she wheeled up into the air. I thought she was lost to me, when presently I heard her wings brush close over my head, and she wheeled round and round the dead bird, turning her head downwards to make out what had happened. At times she stooped so low that I could see the sparkle of her eye, and hear her low, complaining cry. I watched the time when she turned up her wing towards me, and dropped her actually on the body of the other. She rose to her feet, and stood gazing at me with a reproachful look, and would have done battle, but death was busy with her, and as I was loading in haste she reeled, and fell perfectly dead."

The White-Headed Eagle.

The white-headed or bald eagle, is a native of North America, and feeds equally on the produce of the sea and of the land, but is particularly fond of fish. "In procuring these," says Wilson, "he displays in a very singular manner the genius and energy of his character, which is fierce, contemplative, daring and tyrannical, attributes not exerted but on particular occasions, but when put forth overwhelming all opposition." "Elevated," says Wilson, in his "American Ornithology," "on the high dead limb of some gigantic tree, that commands a high view of the neighbouring shore and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions of the various feathered tribes that pursue their busy avocations below; the snow-white gulls, slowly winnowing the air; the busy tringæ, coursing along the sands; trains of ducks streaming over the surface; silent and watchful cranes, intent and wading; clamorous crows; and all the winged multitude that subsist by the bounty of this vast liquid magazine of nature. High over all these hovers one, whose action instantly arrests all attention. By his wide curvature of wing, and sudden suspension in the air, he knows him to be the fish-hawk, settling over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and balancing himself with half-opened wings on the branch, he watches the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his attention, the roar of its wings reaching the ear as it disappears in the deep, making the surges foam around! At this moment the looks of the eagle are all ardour; and levelling his neck for flight, he sees the fish-hawk once more emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting into the air with screams of exultation. This is the signal for the eagle, who, launching in the air, instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the fish-hawk; each exerts his utmost power to mount above the other, displaying in these rencontres the most elegant and sublime aërial evolutions. The unencumbered eagle rapidly advances, and is just on the point of reaching his opponent, when with a sudden scream, probably of despair and honest execration, the latter drops his fish; the eagle poising himself for a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp ere it reaches the water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silently away into the woods."

The Vulture.

The Vultures have been sometimes called the Hyænas of the feathered world, and judged by their habits, they certainly justify the term. As scavengers they serve a useful purpose in Eastern lands and deserve the protection they are said to receive from the natives. The Griffin Vulture of Europe, Turkey, Persia and Africa, the Egyptian Vulture of the Nile country, and the Condor, or American Vulture, are the best known varieties.

The Condor.

The American Condor is the largest of the birds of prey, and is said to partake of the ferocity of the Eagle and the filthiness of the Vulture. "Two of these birds, acting in concert," says an American writer, "will frequently attack a puma, a llama, a calf, or even a full-grown cow. They will pursue the poor animal with unwearied pertinacity, lacerating it incessantly with their beaks and talons, until it falls exhausted with fatigue and loss of blood. Then, having first seized upon its tongue, they proceed to tear out its eyes, and commence their feast with these favourite morsels. The intestines form the second course of their banquet, which is usually continued until the birds have gorged themselves so fully as to render themselves incapable of using their wings in flight." This bird is said to measure from three and a half to four feet from head to tail.

The King of the Vultures.

This bird which is the handsomest of its tribe is called the King of the vultures, because of the royal honours it receives from common vultures. Mr. Byam says in his "Central America," "One day, having lost a mule by death, he was dragged up to a small hill, not far off, where I knew, in an hour or two, he would be safely buried in vulture-sepulture. I was standing on a hillock, about a hundred yards off, with a gun in my hand, watching the surprising distance that a vulture descries his prey from, and the gathering of so many from all parts, up and down wind, where none had been seen before, and that in a very short space of time. Hearing a loud, whirring noise over my head, I looked up, and saw a fine large bird, with outstretched and seemingly motionless wings, sailing towards the carcase that had already been partially demolished. I would not fire at the bird; for I had a presentiment that it was his majesty of the vultures; but beckoned to an Indian to come up the hill--and, showing him the bird that had just alighted, he said, 'the King of the vultures; you will see how he is adored.' Directly the fine-looking bird approached the carcase, the _oi polloi_ of the vultures retired to a short distance; some flew off, and perched on some contiguous branch; while by far the greatest number remained, acting the courtier, by forming a most respectful and well-kept ring around him. His majesty, without any signs of acknowledgment for such great civility, proceeded to make a most gluttonous meal; but, during the whole time he was employed, not a single envious bird attempted to intrude upon him at his repast, until he had finished, and taken his departure with a heavier wing and slower flight than on his arrival; but when he had taken his perch on a high tree, not far off, his dirty, ravenous subjects, increased in number during his repast, ventured to discuss the somewhat diminished carcase; for the royal appetite was certainly very fine. I have since beheld the above scene acted many times, but always with great interest."

A Feast of Vultures.

Wilson gives the following account of the Black Vulture of America. "February 21st, 1809. Went out to Hampstead this forenoon. A horse had dropped down in the street, in convulsions; and dying, it was dragged out to Hampstead, and skinned. I ventured cautiously within thirty yards of the carcase, where three or four dogs, and twenty or thirty vultures, were busily tearing and devouring. Seeing them take no notice, I ventured nearer, till I was within ten yards, and sat down on the bank. Still they paid little attention to me. The dogs being sometimes accidentally flapped with the wings of the vultures, would growl and snap at them, which would occasion them to spring up for a moment, but they immediately gathered in again. I remarked the vultures frequently attack each other, fighting with their claws or heels, striking like a cock, with open wings, and fixing their claws in each other's heads. The females, and I believe the males likewise, made a hissing sound with open mouth, exactly resembling that produced by thrusting a red hot poker into water; and frequently a snuffing like a dog clearing his nostrils, as I suppose they were theirs. On observing that they did not heed me, I stole so close that my feet were within one yard of the horse's legs, and I again sat down. They all slid aloof a few feet; but seeing me quiet, they soon returned as before. As they were often disturbed by the dogs, I ordered the latter home: my voice gave no alarm to the vultures. As soon as the dogs departed, the vultures crowded in such numbers, that I counted at one time thirty-seven on and around the carcase, with several within; so that scarcely an inch of it was visible. Sometimes one would come out with a large piece of the entrails, which in a moment was surrounded by several others, who tore it in fragments, and it soon disappeared. They kept up the hissing occasionally. Some of them having their whole legs and heads covered with blood, presented a most savage aspect. Sometimes I observed them stretching their neck along the ground, as if to press the food downwards."

The Secretary Bird.

The Secretary Bird, so called from the possession of feathers thought to resemble pens behind the ear, feeds on snakes and other reptiles. Le Vaillant, who in dissecting one of these birds, found in his crop eleven large lizards, three serpents each a yard in length, eleven small tortoises and a great quantity of locusts and other insects, once witnessed a contest thus referred in the "Percy Anecdotes":

"When the secretary approaches a serpent, it always carries the point of one of its wings forward, in order to parry off its venomous bites; sometimes it finds an opportunity of spurning and treading upon its antagonist; or else, of taking him upon its pinions, and throwing him into the air. When by this system it has, at length, wearied out its adversary, and rendered him almost senseless, it kills and swallows him at leisure. On the occasion which Vaillant mentions, the battle was obstinate, and conducted with equal address on both sides. The serpent, feeling at last his inferiority, endeavoured to regain his hole; while the bird apparently guessing his design, stopped him on a sudden, and cut off his retreat by placing herself before him at a single leap. On whatever side the reptile endeavoured to make his escape, the enemy still appeared before him. Rendered desperate, the serpent resolved on a last effort. He erected himself boldly to intimidate the bird, and hissing dreadfully, displayed his menacing throat, inflamed eyes, and a head swollen with rage and venom. The bird seemed intimidated for a moment, but soon returned to the charge; and covering her body with one of her wings as a buckler, struck her enemy with the bony protuberance of the other. M. Vaillant saw the serpent at last stagger and fall; the conqueror then fell upon him to despatch him, and with one stroke of her beak laid open his skull."

The Kite. The Osprey. The Buzzard.

The Kite is common in Europe and is sometimes seen in Scotland. It is a bird of the Hawk kind and may easily be distinguished from other birds of prey by its forked tail and the slow and circular eddies it describes in the air whenever it spies its prey. It measures about two feet in length. The Osprey is common in Europe and America. It feeds principally upon fish, in pursuit of which it frequents the sea coast and the borders of lakes and rivers. It is about two feet in length. The common Buzzard is rather smaller, measuring twenty or twenty-two inches. It nests on high trees and watches on overhanging branches for any prey that may pass beneath. The Marsh Harrier which measures twenty-one to twenty-three inches is a formidable foe to moles and mice, rabbits and reptiles.

The Falcon.

The Peregrine Falcon so famous in the days of Falconry is a fearless bird and does not hesitate to attack those of much larger size. For this reason it was often employed in hunting the Heron. "In this contest," says Mr. Wood, "the Falcon was almost always victorious, and after it had attained a sufficient altitude, it swept, or 'stooped', as the phrase was, upon the Heron. When the Falcon had closed with its prey, they both came to the ground together. Sometimes, however, the wary Heron contrived to receive its enemy on the point of its sharp beak, and transfixed it by its own impetus." This bird is from fifteen to eighteen inches in length. Mr. Selby in his "Ornithology" says, "In daring disposition, this bird equals most of its congeners. I may be allowed to add the following instance, as having happened under my own observation, and as exemplifying not only its determined perseverance in pursuit of its prey, when under the pressure of hunger, but as arguing also an unexpected degree of foresight:--In exercising my dogs upon the moors, previous to the commencement of the shooting-season, I observed a large bird of the hawk genus, hovering at a distance, which, upon approaching, I knew to be a Peregrine Falcon. Its attention was now drawn towards the dogs, and it accompanied them, whilst they beat the surrounding ground. Upon their having found, and sprung a brood of grouse, the falcon immediately gave chase, and struck a young bird, before they had proceeded far upon wing. My shouts and rapid advance, prevented it from securing its prey. The issue of this attempt, however, did not deter the falcon from watching our subsequent movements, and another opportunity soon offering, it again gave chase, and struck down two birds, by two rapidly repeated blows, one of which it secured, and bore off in triumph."

The Sparrow Hawk.

The Sparrow-hawk which measures from twelve to fifteen inches long is a terror to smaller birds, showing great pertinacity in their pursuit. Mr. St. John says that one pursued a pigeon through his "drawing-room window, and out at the other end of the house through another window, and never slackened its pursuit, notwithstanding the clattering of the broken glass of the two windows as they passed through," and that on another occasion he found "a sparrow hawk deliberately standing on a very large pouter pigeon on the drawing-room floor, and plucking it, having entered in pursuit of the unfortunate bird through an open window, and killed him in the room." White says, in his "Natural History of Selborne," "About the tenth of July, a pair of sparrow-hawks bred in an old crow's nest on a low beech in Selborne-hanger; and as their brood, which was numerous, began to grow up, they became so daring and ravenous, that they were a terror to all the dames in the village that had chickens or ducklings under their care. A boy climbed the tree, and found the young so fledged that they all escaped from him; but discovered that a good house had been kept; the larder was well stored with provisions; for he brought down a young blackbird, jay, and house martin, all clean picked, and some half devoured. The old birds had been observed to make sad havoc for some days among the new flown swallows and martins, which, being but lately out of their nests, had not acquired those powers and command of wing that enable them when more mature to set enemies at defiance."

The Owl.

Great interest attaches to the owl from the singularity of its appearance and habits. There are many varieties, the Common Barn Owl; the Long-eared Owl; the Great Eagle Owl; and the American Horned Owl being some of these. The Barn Owl measures about twelve inches in length. This bird does great service in the destruction of mice, rats, and other vermin, and it is the nemesis of fate that it is destroyed by those it serves. Its movements are noiseless, the peculiar form of the feathers of its wings enabling it to fly without making any sound, and so surprise its prey. "Its method of devouring a mouse," says Mr. Wood, "is quite different from the mode in which it eats a bird. If a mouse is given to an owl, the bird seizes it across the back, and gives it one or two smart bites, much as a terrier handles a rat. The mouse is then jerked upwards, and caught again head downwards. A second jerk sends the mouse half down the owl's throat, while its tail remains sticking out of the side of its bill, where it is rolled about as if the owl were smoking. After some time has been spent in this amusement, another jerk causes the mouse to disappear altogether, and the owl looks very happy and contented. But if a small bird is presented to it, the owl tears it up and devours it piecemeal." The great Eagle Owl which measures two feet and upwards will attack hares, rabbits, and young fawns.

ORDER VIII.

Wading Birds.

The order of wading birds includes many that we can do no more than mention:--the Moor Hen; the Woodcock; the Snipe; the Water pheasant; the Plover; the Lapwing; the Crane; the Heron; the Stork; and the Flamingo are the more familiar birds of the order, which however includes the Crakes; the Coots; the Curlews; the Bustards; the Sandpipers, and others.

The Cranes.

The Cranes belong to Africa and Southern Asia, but migrate from clime to clime as the seasons change. The flight of the Cranes, like that of some other birds, is a compact and well ordered progression. They fly high and commonly at night, apparently under the direction of a leader whose course they follow and whose calls they obey. There are several varieties, the Common Crane, the Numidian Crane, and the Balearic Crane being the better known of these.

The Heron.

The Heron is an expert fisherman and has all the necessary patience for the pursuit of his sport. He will stand motionless for hours at the water side, waiting his opportunity, and then dart with unerring aim at the unsuspecting fish and secure his meal. The bill of the heron is a powerful weapon, and as we remarked when dealing with the falcons, formerly used in hunting the heron, it will sometimes transfix the Falcon by throwing its head back and receiving its enemy on the point. Captain Brown gives an illustration which shows that the Heron's bill may be as effective in other cases. "A gentleman being on a shooting excursion, accompanied by a small spaniel, observed a heron wading a little above a waterfall. He fired--wounded it--and sent his dog into the stream to bring it to land. As soon as the dog had come within its reach, the heron drew back its head, and with all its force, struck him in the ribs with its bill. The gentleman again fired, and killed the heron; but it had well revenged itself: both dog and heron floated dead together, down the foaming waterfall." The Heron nests on the tops of high trees and lives in companies.

The Bittern.

The Bittern is remarkable for its loud booming cry which has some resemblance to the bellowing of a bull, and for its spiral flight which it pursues to a great altitude.

The Stork.

Storks are found in different parts of Europe, Asia and Africa. In Holland, and in some other countries, they live in a state of semi-domestication, encouraged by the people, and building nests upon the roofs of their houses. They feed on rats, mice, frogs, and other vermin, and render the Hollander good service by keeping down the numbers of such pests. In the East they act as scavengers, and for this reason are as much encouraged by the people. "A recent visitor to Constantinople," says Mr. Wood, "remarks that the very Storks seemed to have become Ottoman, for they sat on the tops of the houses, looking staid and solemn, as becomes the Oriental character, and managed their beaks just as if they were pipes. It is true that they wore no turbans, but each of them appeared to have left a turban of preposterous dimensions, _viz._, his nest, on the roof of a house close by." The Stork is easily tamed and sometimes shows considerable intelligence.

The Jealousy of the Stork.

The following illustration which we take from the "Percy Anecdotes" shows that the Stork shares with other birds the feeling of jealousy. "In Smyrna there are a great number of storks, who build their nests and hatch their young very regularly. The inhabitants, in order to divert themselves at the expense of these birds, and gratify a cruel disposition, sometimes convey hens' eggs into the stork's nest; and when the young are hatched, the cock on seeing them of a different form from his own species, makes a hideous noise, which brings a crowd of other storks about the nest, who to revenge the disgrace which they imagine the hen has brought upon her race, immediately peck her to death. The cock in the meantime makes the heaviest lamentation, as if bewailing his misfortune, which obliged him to have recourse to such extreme punishment."

A Stork's Revenge.

From the same work we quote the following, which shows that though ordinarily placid and placable the stork can cherish the feeling of revenge. "A wild stork was brought by a farmer in the neighbourhood of Hamburgh, into his poultry yard, to be the companion of a tame one, which he had long kept there; but the tame stork disliking a rival, fell upon the poor stranger, and beat him so unmercifully that he was compelled to take wing, and with some difficulty escaped. About four months afterwards, however, he returned to the poultry yard, recovered of his wounds, and attended by three other storks, who no sooner alighted, than they all together fell upon the tame stork, and killed it."

ORDER IX.

The Geese.

This order includes the Goose, the Duck, the Swan, the Teal, the Gull, the Petrel, the Albatross, the Cormorant, the Pelican, the Penguin, the Grebe, the Great Auk, the Puffin and other birds. The first of these is found in all parts of the world, geese being especially cultivated in England for the sake of their quills and feathers, and for the purposes of food. The goose, far from being the foolish bird it is popularly esteemed, often shows considerable intelligence, as well as great affection for those who show it kindness.

The Gratitude of the Goose.

Many instances are recorded of gratitude shown by geese towards those who have befriended them. Buffon once rescued a young gander from an older and stronger bird, after which his young _protégé_ would follow him on all his daily walks, never tiring of his company. "On one occasion," says Buffon, "he heard me talking in the rector's upper room, and as he found the front door open, climbed upstairs, and, marching into the room, gave a loud exclamation of joy, to the no small astonishment of the family."

A Wild Goose Chase.

Bishop Stanley, in his "Familiar History of Birds," says:--"An officer settled on a farm near the Missouri in North America, one day, when walking near the banks of the river, observed a large eagle frequently darting towards the water, and then rising again. On a near approach, he perceived that its object was to take a wild goose, which had alighted on the water, and which was diving to avoid so powerful an enemy. Its efforts, however, appeared to be in vain; and, after diving again and again, and as often rising to get breath, it became nearly exhausted, when, suddenly turning, it made for the shore with all speed towards the officer's house, where two men were at work, and as soon as it had landed walked leisurely up to them, permitting itself to be taken without attempting to escape. It was completely exhausted, but soon recovered, and within three days seemed quite contented, and confident of protection."

Goose Friendships.

There are some curious instances known of friendships formed by geese for both men and animals, apparently without any special reason. A goose in Cheshire once followed a farmer with so much persistency, at the plough, to the market, and in the house, that the farmer who had shown it no special kindness, superstitiously regarded it as a bird of ill omen and had it killed. A singular friendship grew up some years ago between a gander at York and an old man who lived near the farm to which the bird belonged. In this case the gander waddled off in the morning and spent the day with his human friend, returning at night to its home at the farm. One of the prettiest of these stories is that of a gander in Germany who used to lead a blind woman to church, taking the corner of her apron in his beak, and wait quietly in the churchyard until the service was over to conduct her home again. Another goose was known to have a great affection for soldiers and to regularly perform sentry duty, walking backwards and forwards for hours with his red-coated friends.

The Goose and the Dog.

A more singular friendship than any perhaps, was that existing between a goose and a dog, thus described in "The Philosophical Magazine":--

"A species of goose, a native of Africa, belonging to a person in Scotland, was observed some time ago to pay particular attention to a dog which was chained up; a dog which had previously manifested a great dislike to poultry, never allowing them to come within reach of his chain. The goose, finding she had nothing to fear from her canine friend, would enter his kennel, in the centre of which, among the straw, she made her nest and deposited her eggs, which was not known till one of the family mentioned that the goose slept in the dog's bosom. The singularity of the circumstance led to an examination of the box, but not without the greatest reluctance on the part of the dog, who appeared determined to protect what was left to his charge. On removing the straw, five eggs were discovered in a fine bed of down and feathers. The dog was in the habit of going into his box with the greatest care, for fear of injuring the eggs."

The Maternal Instinct of the Goose.

The Rev. C. A. Bury gives a pathetic illustration of the maternal instinct of the goose:--

"An old goose, that had been for a fortnight hatching in a farmer's kitchen was perceived on a sudden to be taken violently ill. She soon after left the nest, and repaired to an outhouse where there was a young goose of the first year, which she brought with her into the kitchen. The young one immediately scrambled into the old one's nest, sat, hatched, and afterwards brought up the brood. The old goose, as soon as the young one had taken her place, sat down by the side of the nest, and shortly after died. As the young goose had never been in the habit of entering the kitchen before, I know of no way of accounting for this fact than by supposing that the old one had some way of communicating her thoughts and anxieties, which the other was perfectly able to understand. A sister of mine, who witnessed the transaction, gave me the information in the evening of the very day it happened." The Rev. F. C. Morris tells of a goose which had a number of ducks' eggs placed with some of her own that she might hatch them, but which twice removed the ducks' eggs from the group, declining to sit on any but her own.

The Duck.

The many varieties of Ducks might well occupy much more space than we can spare for them. The better known of these are the Wild Duck, the Common Duck, the Eider Duck, the Long-tailed Duck, the King Duck, the Canvas-back Duck, the Mallard, the Teal, the Widgeon, the Mandarin, and the Common Shelldrake.

An interesting illustration of the affection which ducks sometimes show towards each other is given by Dr. Stanley. He says:--"A pair of Muscovy Ducks were landed at Holyhead from a Liverpool vessel, returning from the coast of Africa. The male was conveyed to a gentleman's house, and put with other ducks, towards whom he evinced the utmost indifference: he evidently pined for the loss of his mate; but she was brought after a time, and let loose; he did not at first see her, but when, on turning his head, he caught a glimpse of her, he rushed towards her with a joy which was quite affecting. Nothing after that would induce him to quit her; he laid his beak upon hers, nestled his head under her wing, and often gazed at her with the greatest delight."

The Swan.

The Swan is one of the most graceful of the bird kind, the purity of its colour and the beauty of its form as it glides along the river making it one of the prettiest sights in nature. There are several varieties of the swan, of which the Whooping Swan and the Common Swan of Europe, the Black Swan of Australia, and the Black-necked Swan of South America are the most familiar.

The Maternal Instinct of the Swan.

The swan is assiduous in the care of her young, and shows great intelligence in providing for them as well as courage in their defence. She makes her nest in the grass among reeds; and in February begins to lay, depositing egg after egg, until there are six or eight. Dr. Latham mentions two females that for three or four years successively, agreed to associate, and had each a brood yearly, bringing up together about eleven young ones: they sat by turns, and never quarrelled. Captain Brown gives a remarkable illustration of the courage of a swan in defending her nest. He says:--"A female swan, while in the act of sitting, observed a fox swimming towards her from the opposite shore: She instantly darted into the water, and having kept him at bay for a considerable time with her wings, at last succeeded in drowning him; after which, in the sight of several persons, she returned in triumph. This circumstance took place at Pensy, in Buckinghamshire."

The Swan's Intelligence.

Mr. Yarrell, in his "British Birds," mentions a remarkable instance of the sagacity and intelligence of the swan: "A female swan was sitting on four or five eggs. One day she was observed to be very busy in collecting weeds, grasses, and sticks, to raise her nest above its usual level. A kind-hearted farming man threw her some handfuls of brushwood, with which she most industriously raised her nest, and soon placed the eggs about two feet and a half above the old level. That night there came down a tremendous fall of rain, which flooded all the fields and cellars, and did great damage in the village. Man made no preparation--the bird did; and instinct prevailed over reason! Her eggs were above, and only just above, the water."

The Swan and the Fawn.

Swans are said to be spiteful at times, and to show a savagery of temper on occasion, for which, as in the following case, it is difficult to account. "In the park of Lord Grantley at Wonersh, near Guildford, a fawn, drinking, was suddenly pounced upon by one of the swans, which pulled the animal into the water, and held it under until quite drowned. This action was observed by the other deer in the park, and did not long go unrevenged; for shortly after, this very swan, which had hitherto never been molested by the deer, was singled out when on land, and furiously attacked by a herd, which surrounded and killed it."

The Common Sea-Gull.

The Gulls are a numerous family, the Common Gull, the Herring Gull, the Great Black-Backed Gull and the Ivory Gull being well known species. The Common Gull is found everywhere. It frequents the coasts of continents and islands and feeds principally upon fish, though its voracity is very accommodating, and its taste not over fastidious.

A Tame Sea-Gull

Many years ago, Mr. Scot, of Benholm, near Montrose, caught a sea-gull, and having cut its wings put it into his garden. The bird remained in this situation for several years, and being kindly treated, became so familiar, as to come at call to be fed at the kitchen door and to answer to the name of Willie. It became so tame at last that no pains were thought necessary to circumscribe its liberty, and its wings having grown to full length, it flew away, joined the other gulls on the beach, and came back, from time to time, to pay a visit to the house. When its companions left the country at the usual season, Willie accompanied them, much to the regret of the family. To their great joy, however, it returned next season; and with its usual familiarity came to its old haunt, where it was welcomed and fed very liberally. In this way it went and returned for _forty years_, without intermission, and kept up its acquaintance with the family, for while in the country it visited them almost daily, answered to its name like any domestic animal, and ate almost out of the hand. One year, however, very near the period of its final disappearance, Willie did not pay his respects to the family for eight or ten days after the general flock of gulls were upon the coast, and great was their lamentation for his loss, as it was feared he was dead: but to the surprise and joy of the family, a servant one morning came running into the breakfast-room with delight, announcing that Willie was returned. The whole company rose from the table to welcome the bird. Food was supplied in abundance, and Willie with his usual frankness ate of it heartily, and was as tame as any barn-yard fowl about the house. In a year or two afterwards this grateful bird disappeared for ever.

Mother Carey's Chicken.

The Stormy Petrel or Mother Carey's Chicken, is a small black bird well known to mariners, and familiar to all at sea in stormy weather. It follows in the wake of ships and is regarded as a prophet of evil, at least in so far as stormy weather is concerned. It is seen in many parts of the ocean busily engaged in searching for food, braving the fury of the storm and skimming along the waves, sometimes above their tops, and sometimes screening itself from the blast by sinking down into the billows between them. It nests in all but inaccessible places, the Island of St. Kilda being the chief British breeding place of the Fulmar variety. These are of great importance to the natives who run great risks in searching for their eggs and who catch the birds for the purposes of food, and for the oil which they supply.

Catching the Stormy Petrel.

The danger attaching to the capture of the Petrel in its rocky haunts in the Hebrides is thus vividly described by Mr. Drosier. "As the stormy petrel, is scarcely ever to be seen near the land, except in very boisterous weather, one of the natives for a trifling remuneration, agreed to traverse the face of a rock, and take me some from out its fissures. Accordingly, accoutred with a rope of hemp and hogs' bristles coiled over his shoulders, he proceeded to the cliff. Having made one end fast by means of a stake, he threw the coil over the face of the rock, and gradually lowered himself down, but with the utmost caution and circumspection, carefully pressing his foot hard upon the narrow ridges before he at all loosened his firm grasp of the rope, which he never altogether abandoned. I had previously thrown myself upon my chest, to enable me to have a better view of him, by looking over the cliff; and, certainly, to see the dexterity and bravery with which he threw himself from one aperture to another, was truly grand. The tumbling roar of the Atlantic was foaming many hundreds of feet beneath, and dashing its curling cream-like surge against the dark base of the cliff, in sheets of the most beautiful white; while the herring and black-backed gulls, alternately sweeping past him so as to be almost in reach of his arm, threw a wildness into the scene, by the discordant scream of the former, and the laughing, oft-repeated bark of the latter. This, however, he appeared entirely to disregard; and continuing his search, returned in about half an hour, with seven or eight of the stormy petrels, tied up in an old stocking, and a pair of the Manks puffins, together with their eggs. The birds, he told me, he had no difficulty in capturing. The eggs of the stormy petrel are surprisingly large, considering the diminutive size of the bird, being as large as those of the thrush. The female lays two eggs, of a dirty or dingy white, encircled at the larger end by a ring of fine rust-coloured freckles. The birds merely collect a few pieces of dried grass, with a feather or two, barely sufficient to prevent the eggs from rolling or moving on the rock."

The Cormorant.

The Common Cormorant is familiar all round the coast of England, and will even sometimes venture inland or at any rate up the mouths of rivers. Captain Brown mentions one that, many years ago, was seen resting upon the vane of St. Martin's steeple, Ludgate Hill, London; and was shot in the presence of a large number of people. It is a voracious bird and shows great dexterity in the catching and swallowing of fish, turning them round so as to swallow them head foremost, in order to avoid the resistance of the fins and spines. Colonel Montague had one, caught in a tributary of the Bristol Channel, by a Newfoundland dog, which at first refused food but offered no resistance to being crammed. "The Colonel having retired to the library after seeing the bird fed," says Captain Brown, "was surprised in a few minutes to see it walk boldly into the room, unceremoniously place itself by him at the side of the fire, and begin to dress its feathers. This practice it continued till removed to an aquatic menagerie. Whenever it saw the water it became restless, and on being set at liberty, plunged into it, and incessantly dived for a considerable time in search of fish. After this, it seemed to be convinced that there were none to be found there, as it was not noticed to dive again for three days."

The Albatross.