Chapter XXI: Book X: The Natural History of Birds (2)
In a similar manner also, the blackbird, the thrush, and the starling take their departure to neighbouring countries; but they do not lose their feathers, nor yet conceal themselves, as they are often to be seen in places where they seek their food during the winter: hence it is that in winter, more especially, the thrush is so often to be seen in Germany. It is, however, a well-ascertained fact, that the turtle-dove conceals itself, and loses its feathers. The ring-dove, also, takes its departure: and with these too, it is a matter of doubt whither they go. It is a peculiarity of the starling to fly in troops, as it were, and then to wheel round in a globular mass like a ball, the central troop acting as a pivot for the rest. Swallows are the only birds that have a sinuous flight of remarkable velocity; for which reason it is that they are not exposed to the attacks of other birds of prey: these too, in fine, are the only birds that take their food solely on the wing.
CHAP. 36. (25.)—BIRDS WHICH REMAIN WITH US THROUGHOUT THE YEAR; BIRDS WHICH REMAIN WITH US ONLY SIX OR THREE MONTHS; WITWALLS AND HOOPOES.
The time during which birds show themselves differs very considerably. Some remain with us all the year round, the pigeon, for instance; some for six months, such as the swallow; and some, again, for three months only, as the thrush, the turtle-dove, and those which take their departure the moment they have reared their young, the witwall[2989] and the hoopoe, for instance.
CHAP. 37. (26.)—THE MEMNONIDES.
There are some authors who say that every year certain birds[2990] fly from Æthiopia to Ilium, and have a combat at the tomb of Memnon there; from which circumstance they have received from them the name of Memnonides, or birds of Memnon. Cremutius states it also as a fact, ascertained by himself, that they do the same every fifth year in Æthiopia, around the palace of Memnon.
CHAP. 38.—THE MELEAGRIDES.
In a similar manner also, the birds called meleagrides[2991] fight in Bœotia. They are a species of African poultry, having a hump on the back, which is covered with a mottled plumage. These are the latest among the foreign birds that have been received at our tables, on account of their disagreeable smell. The tomb, however, of Meleager has rendered them famous.
CHAP. 39. (27.)—THE SELEUCIDES.
Those birds are called seleucides, which are sent by Jupiter at the prayers offered up to him by the inhabitants of Mount Casius,[2992] when the locusts are ravaging their crops of corn. Whence they[2993] come, or whither they go, has never yet been ascertained, as, in fact, they are never to be seen but when the people stand in need of their aid.
CHAP. 40. (28.)—THE IBIS.
The Egyptians also invoke their ibis against the incursions of serpents; and the people of Elis, their god Myiagros,[2994] when the vast multitudes of flies are bringing pestilence among them; the flies die immediately the propitiatory sacrifice has been made to this god.
CHAP. 41. (29.)—PLACES IN WHICH CERTAIN BIRDS ARE NEVER FOUND.
With reference to the departure of birds, the owlet, too, is said to lie concealed for a few days. No birds of this last kind are to be found in the island of Crete, and if any are imported thither, they immediately die. Indeed, this is a remarkable distinction made by Nature; for she denies to certain places, as it were, certain kinds of fruits and shrubs, and of animals as well; it is singular that when introduced into these localities they will be no longer productive, but die immediately they are thus transplanted. What can it be that is thus fatal to the increase of one particular species, or whence this envy manifested against them by Nature? What, too, are the limits that have been marked out for the birds on the face of the earth?
Rhodes[2995] possesses no eagles. In Italy beyond the Padus there is, near the Alps, a lake known by the name of Larius beautifully situate amid a country covered with shrubs; and yet this lake is never visited by storks, nor, indeed, are they ever known to come within eight miles of it; while, on the other hand, in the neighbouring territory of the Insubres[2996] there are immense flocks of magpies and jackdaws, the only[2997] bird that is guilty of stealing gold and silver, a very singular propensity.
It is said that in the territory of Tarentum, the woodpecker of Mars is never found. It is only lately too, and that but very rarely, that various kinds of pies have begun to be seen in the districts that lie between the Apennines and the City; birds which are known by the name of “variæ,”[2998] and are remarkable for the length of the tail. It is a peculiarity of this bird, that it becomes bald every year at the time of sowing rape. The partridge does not fly beyond the frontiers of Bœotia, into Attica; nor does any bird, in the island[2999] in the Euxine in which Achilles was buried, enter the temple there consecrated to him. In the territory of Fidenæ, in the vicinity of the City, the storks have no young nor do they build nests: but vast numbers of ringdoves arrive from beyond sea every year in the district of Volaterræ. At Rome, neither flies nor dogs ever enter the temple of Hercules in the Cattle Market. There are numerous other instances of a similar nature in reference to all kinds of animals, which from time to time I feel myself prompted by prudent considerations to omit, lest I should only weary the reader. Theophrastus, for example, relates that even pigeons, as well as peacocks and ravens, have been introduced from other parts into Asia,[3000] as also croaking frogs[3001] into Cyrenaica.
CHAP. 42.—THE VARIOUS KINDS OF BIRDS WHICH AFFORD OMENS BY THEIR NOTE—BIRDS WHICH CHANGE THEIR COLOUR AND THEIR VOICE.
There is another remarkable fact too, relative to the birds which give omens by their note; they generally change their colour and voice at a certain season of the year, and suddenly become quite altered in appearance; a thing that, among the larger birds, happens with the crane only, which grows black in its old age. From black, the blackbird changes to a reddish colour, sings in summer, chatters in winter, and about the summer solstice loses its voice; when a year old, the beak also assumes the appearance of ivory; this, however, is the case only with the male. In the summer, the thrush is mottled about the neck, but in the winter it becomes of one uniform colour all over.
CHAP. 43.—THE NIGHTINGALE.
The song of the nightingale is to be heard, without intermission, for fifteen days and nights, continuously,[3002] when the foliage is thickening, as it bursts from the bud; a bird which deserves our admiration in no slight degree. First of all, what a powerful voice in so small a body! its note, how long, and how well sustained! And then, too, it is the only bird the notes of which are modulated in accordance with the strict rules of musical science.[3003] At one moment, as it sustains its breath, it will prolong its note, and then at another, will vary it with different inflexions; then, again, it will break into distinct chirrups, or pour forth an endless series of roulades. Then it will warble to itself, while taking breath, or else disguise its voice in an instant; while sometimes, again, it will twitter to itself, now with a full note, now with a grave, now again sharp, now with a broken note, and now with a prolonged one. Sometimes, again, when it thinks fit, it will break out into quavers, and will run through, in succession, alto, tenor, and bass: in a word, in so tiny a throat is to be found all the melody that the ingenuity of man has ever discovered through the medium of the invention of the most exquisite flute: so much so, that there can be no doubt it was an infallible presage of his future sweetness as a poet, when one of these creatures perched and sang on the infant lips of the poet Stesichorus.
That there may remain no doubt that there is a certain degree of art in its performances, we may here remark that every bird has a number of notes peculiar to itself; for they do not, all of them, have the same, but each, certain melodies of its own. They vie with one another, and the spirit with which they contend is evident to all. The one that is vanquished, often dies in the contest, and will rather yield its life than its song. The younger birds are listening in the meantime, and receive the lesson in song from which they are to profit. The learner hearkens with the greatest attention, and repeats what it has heard, and then they are silent by turns; this is understood to be the correction of an error on the part of the scholar, and a sort of reproof, as it were, on the part of the teacher. Hence it is that nightingales fetch as high a price as slaves, and, indeed, sometimes more than used formerly to be paid for a man in a suit of armour.
I know that on one occasion six thousand sesterces[3004] were paid for a nightingale, a white one it is true, a thing that is hardly ever to be seen, to be made a present of to Agrippina, the wife of the Emperor Claudius. A nightingale has been often seen that will sing at command, and take alternate parts with the music that accompanies it; men, too, have been found who could imitate its note with such exactness, that it would be impossible to tell the difference, by merely putting water in a reed held crosswise, and then blowing into it, a languette being first inserted, for the purpose of breaking the sound and rendering it more shrill.[3005] But these modulations, so clever and so artistic, begin gradually to cease at the end of the fifteen days; not that you can say, however, that the bird is either fatigued or tired of singing; but, as the heat increases, its voice becomes altogether changed, and possesses no longer either modulation or variety of note. Its colour, too, becomes changed, and at last, throughout the winter, it totally disappears. The tongue of the nightingale is not pointed at the tip, as in other birds. It lays at the beginning of the spring, six eggs at the most.
CHAP. 44.—THE MELANCORYPHUS, THE ERITHACUS, AND THE PHŒNICURUS.
The change is different that takes place in the ficedula,[3006] for this bird changes its shape as well as its colour. “Ficedula” is the name by which it is called in autumn, but not after that period; for then it is called “melancoryphus.”[3007] In the same manner, too, the erithacus[3008] of the winter is the “phœnicurus” of the summer. The hoopoe also, according to the poet Æschylus, changes its form; it is a bird that feeds upon filth[3009] of all kinds, and is remarkable for its twisted top-knot, which it can contract or elevate at pleasure along the top of the head.
CHAP. 45.—THE ŒNANTHE, THE CHLORION, THE BLACKBIRD, AND THE IBIS.
The œnanthe,[3010] too, is a bird that has stated days for its retreat. At the rising of Sirius it conceals itself, and at the setting of that star comes forth from its retreat: and this it does, a most singular thing, exactly upon both those days. The chlorion,[3011] also, the body of which is yellow all over, is not seen in the winter, but comes out about the summer solstice.
(30.) The blackbird is found in the vicinity of Cyllene, in Arcadia, with white[3012] plumage; a thing that is the case nowhere else. The ibis, in the neighbourhood of Pelusium[3013] only is black, while in all other places it is white.
CHAP. 46. (31.)—THE TIMES OF INCUBATION OF BIRDS.
The birds that have a note, with the exception of those previously mentioned,[3014] do not by any chance produce their young before the vernal or after the autumnal equinox. As to the broods produced before the summer solstice, it is very doubtful if they will survive, but those hatched after it thrive well.
CHAP. 47. (32.)—THE HALCYONES: THE HALCYON DAYS THAT ARE FAVOURABLE TO NAVIGATION.
It is for this that the halcyon[3015] is more especially remarkable; the seas, and all those who sail upon their surface, well know the days of its incubation. This bird is a little larger than a sparrow, and the greater part of its body is of an azure blue colour, with only an intermixture of white and purple in some of the larger feathers, while the neck[3016] is long and slender. There is one kind that is remarkable for its larger size and its note; the smaller ones are heard singing in the reed-beds. It is a thing of very rare occurrence to see a halcyon, and then it is only about the time of the setting of the Vergiliæ, and the summer and winter solstices; when one is sometimes to be seen to hover about a ship, and then immediately disappear. They hatch their young at the time of the winter solstice, from which circumstance those days are known as the “halcyon days:” during this period the sea is calm and navigable, the Sicilian sea in particular. They make their nest during the seven days before the winter solstice, and sit the same number of days after. Their nests[3017] are truly wonderful; they are of the shape of a ball slightly elongated, have a very narrow mouth, and bear a strong resemblance to a large sponge. It is impossible to cut them asunder with iron, and they are only to be broken with a strong blow, upon which they separate, just like foam of the sea when dried up. It has never yet been discovered of what material they are made; some persons think that they are formed of sharp fish-bones, as it is on fish that these birds live. They enter rivers also; their eggs are five in number.
CHAP. 48.—OTHER KINDS OF AQUATIC BIRDS.
The sea-mew also builds its nest in rocks, and the diver[3018] in trees as well. These birds produce three at the very most; the sea-mew in summer, the diver at the beginning of spring.
CHAP. 49. (33.)—THE INSTINCTIVE CLEVERNESS DISPLAYED BY BIRDS IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF THEIR NESTS. THE WONDERFUL WORKS OF THE SWALLOW. THE BANK-SWALLOW.
The form of the nest built by the halcyon reminds me also of the instinctive cleverness displayed by other birds; and, indeed, in no respect is the ingenuity of birds more deserving of our admiration. The swallow builds its nest of mud, and strengthens it with straws. If mud happens to fail, it soaks itself with a quantity of water, which it then shakes from off its feathers into the dust. It lines the inside of the nest with soft feathers and wool, to keep the eggs warm, and in order that the nest may not be hard and rough to its young when hatched. It divides the food among its offspring with the most rigid justice, giving it first to one and then to another. With a remarkable notion of cleanliness, it throws out of the nest the ordure of the young ones, and when they have grown a little older, teaches them how to turn round, and let it fall outside of the nest.
There is another[3019] kind of swallow, also, that frequents the fields and the country; its nest is of a different shape, though of the same materials, but it rarely builds it against houses. The nest has its mouth turned straight upwards, and the entrance to it is long and narrow, while the body is very capacious. It is quite wonderful what skill is displayed in the formation of it, for the purpose of concealing the young ones, and of presenting a soft surface for them to lie upon. At the Heracleotic Mouth of the Nile in Egypt, the swallows present an insuperable obstacle to the inroads of that river, in the embankment which is formed by their nests in one continuous line, nearly a stadium in length; a thing that could not possibly have been effected by the agency of man. In Egypt, too, near the city of Coptos, there is an island sacred to Isis. In the early days of spring, the swallows strengthen the angular corner of this island with chaff and straw, thus fortifying it in order that the river may not sweep it away. This work they persevere in for three days and nights together, with such unremitting labour, that it is a well-known fact that many of them die with their exertions. This, too, is a toil which recurs regularly for them every year.
There is, again, a third kind[3020] of swallow, which makes holes in the banks of rivers, to serve for its nest. The young of these birds, reduced to ashes, are a good specific against mortal maladies of the throat, and tend to cure many other diseases of the human body. These birds do not build nests, and they take care to migrate a good many days before, if it so happens that the rise of the river is about to reach their holes.
CHAP. 50.—THE ACANTHYLLIS AND OTHER BIRDS.
Belonging to the genus of birds known as the “vitiparræ,” there is one[3021] whose nest is formed of dried moss,[3022] and is in shape so exactly like a ball, that it is impossible to discover the mouth of it. The bird, also, that is known as the acanthyllis,[3023] makes its nest of a similar shape, and interweaves it with pieces of flax. The nest of one of the woodpeckers, very much like a cup in shape, is suspended by a twig from the end of the branch of a tree, so that no quadruped may be able to reach it. It is strongly asserted, that the witwall[3024] sleeps suspended by its feet, because it fancies that by doing so it is in greater safety. A thing, indeed, that is well-known of them all, is the fact that, in a spirit of foresight, they select the projecting branches of trees that are sufficiently strong, for the purpose of supporting their nests, and then arch them over to protect them from the rain, or else shield them by means of the thickness of the foliage.
In Arabia there is a bird known as the “cinnamolgus.”[3025] It builds its nest with sprigs of cinnamon; and the natives knock them down with arrows loaded with lead, in order to sell them. In Scythia there is a bird, the size of the otis, which produces two young ones always, in a hare’s skin suspended[3026] from the top branches of a tree. Pies, when they have observed a person steadily gazing at their nest, will immediately remove their eggs to another place. This is said to be accomplished in a truly wonderful manner, by such birds as have not toes adapted for holding and removing their eggs. They lay a twig upon two eggs, and then solder them to it by means of a glutinous matter secreted from their body; after which, they pass their neck between the eggs, and so forming an equipoise, convey them to another place.
CHAP. 51.—THE MEROPS—PARTRIDGES.
No less, too, is the shrewdness displayed by those birds which make their nests upon the ground, because, from the extreme weight of their body, they are unable to fly aloft. There is a bird, known as the “merops,”[3027] which feeds its parents in their retreat: the colour of the plumage on the inside is pale, and azure without, while it is of a somewhat reddish hue at the extremity of the wings: this bird builds its nest in a hole which it digs to the depth of six feet.
Partridges[3028] fortify their retreat so well with thorns and shrubs, that it is effectually protected against beasts of prey. They make a soft bed for their eggs by burying them in the dust, but do not hatch them where they are laid: that no suspicion may arise from the fact of their being seen repeatedly about the same spot, they carry them away to some other place. The females also conceal themselves from their mates, in order that they may not be delayed in the process of incubation, as the males, in consequence of the warmth of their passions, are apt to break the eggs. The males, thus deprived of the females, fall to fighting among themselves; and it is said that the one that is conquered, is treated as a female by the other. Trogus Pompeius tells us that quails and dunghill cocks sometimes do the same; and adds, that wild partridges, when newly caught, or when beaten by the others, are trodden promiscuously by the tame ones. Through the very pugnacity thus inspired by the strength of their passions, these birds are often taken, as the leader of the whole covey frequently advances to fight with the decoy-bird of the fowler; as soon as he is taken, another and then another will advance, all of which are caught in their turn. The females, again, are caught about the pairing season; for then they will come forward to quarrel with the female decoy-bird of the fowler, and so drive her away. Indeed, in no other animal is there any such susceptibility in the sexual feelings; if the female only stands opposite to the male, while the wind is blowing from that direction, she[3029] will become impregnated; and during this time she is in a state of the greatest excitement, the beak being wide open and the tongue thrust out. The female will conceive also from the action of the air, as the male flies above her, and very often from only hearing his voice: indeed, to such a degree does passion get the better of her affection for her offspring, that although at the moment she is sitting furtively and in concealment, she will, if she perceives the female decoy-bird of the fowler approaching her mate, call him back, and summon him away from the other, and voluntarily submit to his advances.
Indeed, these birds are often carried away by such frantic madness, that they will settle, being quite blinded by fear,[3030] upon the very head of the fowler. If he happens to move in the direction of the nest, the female bird that is sitting will run and throw herself before his feet, pretending to be over-heavy, or else weak in the loins, and then, suddenly running or flying for a short distance before him, will fall down as though she had a wing broken, or else her feet; just as he is about to catch her, she will then take another fly, and so keep baffling him in his hopes, until she has led him to a considerable distance from her nest. As soon as she is rid of her fears, and free from all maternal disquietude, she will throw herself on her back in some furrow, and seizing a clod of earth with her claws, cover herself all over. It is supposed that the life of the partridge extends to sixteen years.
CHAP. 52. (34.)—PIGEONS.
Next to the partridge, it is in the pigeon that similar tendencies are to be seen in the same respect: but then, chastity is especially observed by it, and promiscuous intercourse is a thing quite unknown. Although inhabiting a domicile in common with others, they will none of them violate the laws of conjugal fidelity: not one will desert its nest, unless it is either widower or widow. Although, too, the males are very imperious, and sometimes even extremely exacting, the females put up with it: for in fact, the males sometimes suspect them of infidelity, though by nature they are incapable of it. On such occasions the throat of the male seems quite choked with indignation, and he inflicts severe blows with the beak: and then afterwards, to make some atonement, he falls to billing, and by way of pressing his amorous solicitations, sidles round and round the female with his feet. They both of them manifest an equal degree of affection for their offspring; indeed, it is not unfrequently that this is a ground for correction, in consequence of the female being too slow in going to her young. When the female is sitting, the male renders her every attention that can in any way tend to her solace and comfort. The first thing that they do is to eject from the throat some saltish earth, which they have digested, into the mouths of the young ones, in order to prepare them in due time to receive their nutriment. It is a peculiarity of the pigeon and of the turtle-dove, not to throw back the neck when drinking, but to take in the water at a long draught, just as beasts of burden do.
(35.) We read in some authors that the ring-dove lives so long as thirty years, and sometimes as much as forty, without any other inconvenience than the extreme length of the claws, which with them, in fact, is the chief mark of old age; they can be cut, however, without any danger. The voice of all these birds is similar, being composed of three notes, and then a mournful noise at the end. In winter they are silent, and they only recover their voice in the spring. Nigidius expresses it as his opinion that the ring-dove will abandon the place, if she hears her name mentioned under the roof where she is sitting on her eggs: they hatch their young just after[3031] the summer solstice. Pigeons and turtle-doves live eight years.
(36.) The sparrow, on the other hand, which has an equal degree of salaciousness, is short-lived in the extreme. It is said that the male does not live beyond a year; and as a ground for this belief, it is stated that at the beginning of spring, the black marks are never to be seen upon the beak which began to appear in the summer. The females, however, are said to live somewhat longer.
Pigeons have even a certain appreciation of glory. There is reason for believing that they are well aware of the colours of their plumage, and the various shades which it presents, and even in their very mode of flying they court our applause, as they cleave the air in every direction. It is, indeed, through this spirit of ostentation that they are handed over, fast bound as it were, to the hawk; for from the noise that they make, which, in fact, is only produced by the flapping of their wings, their long feathers become twisted and disordered: otherwise, when they can fly without any impediment, they are far swifter in their movements than the hawk. The robber, lurking amid the dense foliage, keeps on the look-out for them, and seizes them at the very moment that they are indulging their vainglorious self-complaisance.
(37.) It is for this reason that it is necessary to keep along with the pigeons the bird that is known as the “tinnunculus;”[3032] as it protects them, and by its natural superiority scares away the hawk: so much so, indeed, that the hawk will vanish at the very sight of it, and the instant it hears its voice. Hence it is that the pigeons have an especial regard for this bird; and, it is said, if one of these birds is buried at each of the four corners of the pigeon-house in pots that have been newly glazed, the pigeons will not change their abode—a result which has been obtained by some by cutting a joint of their wings with an instrument of gold; for if any other were used, the wounds would be not unattended with danger.—The pigeon in general may be looked upon as a bird fond of change; they have the art, too, among themselves of gaining one another over, and so seducing their companions: hence it is that we frequently find them return attended by others which they have enticed away.
CHAP. 53.—WONDERFUL THINGS DONE BY THEM; PRICES AT WHICH THEY HAVE BEEN SOLD.
In addition to this, pigeons have acted as messengers in affairs of importance. During the siege of Mutina, Decimus Brutus, who was in the town, sent despatches to the camp of the consuls[3033] fastened to pigeons’ feet. Of what use to Antony then were his intrenchments, and all the vigilance of the besieging army? his nets, too, which he had spread in the river, while the messenger of the besieged was cleaving the air?
Many persons have quite a mania for pigeons—building towns for them on the top of their roofs, and taking a pleasure in relating the pedigree and noble origin of each. Of this there is an ancient instance that is very remarkable; L. Axius, a Roman of the equestrian order, shortly before the Civil War of Pompeius, sold a single pair for four hundred denarii, as we learn from the writings of M. Varro.[3034] Countries even have gained renown for their pigeons; it is thought that those of Campania attain the largest size.
CHAP. 54. (38.)—DIFFERENT MODES OF FLIGHT AND PROGRESSION IN BIRDS.
The flight of the pigeon also leads me to consider that of other birds as well. All other animals have one determinate mode of progression, which in every kind is always the same; it is birds alone that have two modes of moving—the one on the ground, the other in the air. Some of them walk, such as the crow, for instance; some hop, as the sparrow and the blackbird; some, again, run, as the partridge and the woodhen; while others throw one foot before the other, the stork and the crane, for instance. Then again, in their flight, some birds expand their wings, and, poising themselves in the air, only move them from time to time; others move them more frequently, but then only at the extremities; while others expand them so as to expose the whole of the side. On the other hand, some fly with the greater part of the wings kept close to the side; and some, after striking the air once, others twice, make their way through it, as though pressing upon it enclosed beneath their wings; other birds dart aloft in a vertical direction, others horizontally, and others come falling straight downwards. You would almost think that some had been hurled upwards with a violent effort, and that others, again, had fallen straight down from aloft; while others are seen to spring forward in their flight. Ducks alone, and the other birds of that kind, in an instant raise themselves aloft, taking a spring from the spot where they stand straight upwards towards the heavens; and this they can do from out of the water even; hence it is that they are the only birds that can make their escape from the pitfalls which we employ for the capture of wild beasts.
The vulture and the heavier wild birds can only fly after taking a run, or else by commencing their flight from an elevated spot. They use the tail by way of rudder. There are some birds that are able to see all around them; others, again, have to turn the neck to do so. Some of them eat what they have seized, holding it in their feet. Many, as they fly, utter some cry; while on the other hand, many, in their flight, are silent. Some fly with the breast half upright, others with it held downwards, others fly obliquely, or else side-ways, and others following the direction of the bill. Some, again, are borne along with the head upwards; indeed the fact is, that if we were to see several kinds at the same moment, we should not suppose that they have to make their way in the same element.
CHAP. 55. (39.)—THE BIRDS CALLED APODES, OR CYPSELI.
Those birds which are known as “apodes”[3035] fly the most of all, because they are deprived of the use of their feet. By some persons they are called “cypseli.” They are a species of swallow which build their nests in the rocks, and are the same birds that are to be seen everywhere at sea; indeed, however far a ship may go, however long its voyage, and however great the distance from land, the apodes never cease to hover around it. Other birds settle and come to a stand, whereas these know no repose but in the nest; they are always either on the wing or else asleep.
CHAP. 56. (40.)—RESPECTING THE FOOD OF BIRDS—THE CAPRIMULGUS, THE PLATEA.
The instincts, also, of birds are no less varied, and more especially in relation to their food. “Caprimulgus”[3036] is the name of a bird, which is to all appearance a large blackbird; it thieves by night, as it cannot see during the day. It enters the folds of the shepherds, and makes straight for the udder of the she-goat, to suck the milk. Through the injury thus inflicted the udder shrivels away, and the goat that has been thus deprived of its milk, is afflicted with incipient blindness.
“Platea”[3037] is the name of another, which pounces upon other birds when they have dived in the sea, and, seizing the head with its bill, makes them let go their prey. This bird also swallows and fills itself with shell-fish, shells and all; after the natural heat of its crop has softened them, it brings them up again, and then picking out the shells from the rest, selects the parts that are fit for food.
CHAP. 57. (41.)—THE INSTINCTS OF BIRDS—THE CARDUELIS, THE TAURUS, THE ANTHUS.
The farm-yard fowls have also a certain notion of religion; upon laying an egg they shudder all over, and then shake their feathers; after which they turn round and purify[3038] themselves, or else hallow[3039] themselves and their eggs with some stalk or other. (42.) The carduelis,[3040] which is the very smallest bird of any, will do what it is bid, not only with the voice but with the feet as well, and with the beak, which serves it instead of hands. There is one bird, found in the territory of Arelate, that imitates the lowing of oxen, from which circumstance it has received the name of “taurus.”[3041] In other respects it is of small size. Another bird, called the “anthus,”[3042] imitates the neighing of the horse; upon being driven from the pasture by the approach of the horses, it will mimic their voices—and this is the method it takes of revenging itself.
CHAP. 58.—BIRDS WHICH SPEAK—THE PARROT.
But above all, there are some birds that can imitate the human voice; the parrot, for instance, which can even converse. India sends us this bird, which it calls by the name of “sittaces;”[3043] the body is green all over, only it is marked with a ring of red around the neck. It will duly salute an emperor, and pronounce the words it has heard spoken; it is rendered especially frolicsome under the influence of wine. Its head is as hard as its beak; and this, when it is being taught to talk, is beaten with a rod of iron, for otherwise it is quite insensible to blows. When it lights on the ground it falls upon its beak, and by resting upon it makes itself all the lighter for its feet, which are naturally weak.
CHAP. 59.—THE PIE WHICH FEEDS ON ACORNS.
The magpie is much less famous for its talking qualities than the parrot, because it does not come from a distance, and yet it can speak with much more distinctness. These birds love to hear words spoken which they can utter; and not only do they learn them, but are pleased at the task; and as they con them over to themselves with the greatest care and attention, make no secret of the interest they feel. It is a well-known fact, that a magpie has died before now, when it has found itself mastered by a difficult word that it could not pronounce. Their memory, however, will fail them if they do not from time to time hear the same word repeated; and while they are trying to recollect it, they will show the most extravagant joy, if they happen to hear it. Their appearance, although there is nothing remarkable in it, is by no means plain; but they have quite sufficient beauty in their singular ability to imitate the human speech.
It is said, however, that it is only the kind[3044] of pie which feeds upon acorns that can be taught to speak; and that among these, those which[3045] have five toes on each foot can be taught with the greatest facility; but in their case even, only during the first two years of their life. The magpie has a broader tongue than is usual with most other birds; which is the case also with all the other birds that can imitate the human voice; although some individuals of almost every kind have the faculty of doing so.
Agrippina, the wife of Claudius Cæsar, had a thrush that could imitate human speech, a thing that was never known before. At the moment that I am writing this, the young Cæsars[3046] have a starling and some nightingales that are being taught to talk in Greek and Latin; besides which, they are studying their task the whole day, continually repeating the new words that they have learnt, and giving utterance to phrases even of considerable length. Birds are taught to talk in a retired spot, and where no other voice can be heard, so as to interfere with their lesson; a person sits by them, and continually repeats the words he wishes them to learn, while at the same time he encourages them by giving them food.
CHAP. 60. (48.)—A SEDITION THAT AROSE AMONG THE ROMAN PEOPLE, IN CONSEQUENCE OF A RAVEN SPEAKING.
Let us do justice, also, to the raven, whose merits have been attested not only by the sentiments of the Roman people, but by the strong expression, also, of their indignation. In the reign of Tiberius, one of a brood of ravens that had bred on the top of the temple of Castor,[3047] happened to fly into a shoemaker’s shop that stood opposite: upon which, from a feeling of religious veneration, it was looked upon as doubly recommended by the owner of the place. The bird, having been taught to speak at an early age, used every morning to fly to the Rostra, which look towards the Forum; here, addressing each by his name, it would salute Tiberius, and then the Cæsars[3048] Germanicus and Drusus, after which it would proceed to greet the Roman populace as they passed, and then return to the shop: for several years it was remarkable for the constancy of its attendance. The owner of another shoemaker’s shop in the neighbourhood, in a sudden fit of anger killed the bird, enraged, as he would have had it appear, because with its ordure it had soiled some shoes of his. Upon this, there was such rage manifested by the multitude, that he was at once driven from that part of the city, and soon after put to death. The funeral, too, of the bird was celebrated with almost endless obsequies; the body was placed upon a litter carried upon the shoulders of two Æthiopians, preceded by a piper, and borne to the pile with garlands of every size and description. The pile was erected on the right-hand side of the Appian Way, at the second milestone from the City, in the field generally known as the “field of Rediculus.”[3049] Thus did the rare talent of a bird appear a sufficient ground to the Roman people for honouring it with funeral obsequies, as well as for inflicting punishment on a Roman citizen; and that, too, in a city in which no such crowds had ever escorted the funeral of any one out of the whole number of its distinguished men, and where no one had been found to avenge the death of Scipio Æmilianus,[3050] the man who had destroyed Carthage and Numantia. This event happened in the consulship of M. Servilius and Caius Cestius, on the fifth day[3051] before the calends of April.
At the present day also, the moment that I am writing this, there is in the city of Rome a crow which belongs to a Roman of equestrian rank, and was brought from Bætica. In the first place, it is remarkable[3052] for its colour, which is of the deepest black, and at the same time it is able to pronounce several connected words, while it is repeatedly learning fresh ones. Recently, too, there has been a story told about Craterus, surnamed Monoceros,[3053] in Erizena,[3054] a country of Asia, who was in the habit of hunting with the assistance of ravens, and used to carry them into the woods, perched on the tuft of his helmet and on his shoulders. The birds used to keep on the watch for game, and raise it; and by training he had brought this art to such a pitch of perfection, that even the wild ravens would attend him in a similar manner when he went out. Some authors have thought the following circumstance deserving of remembrance:—A crow that was thirsty was seen heaping stones into the urn on a monument, in which there was some rain-water which it could not reach: and so, being afraid to go down to the water, by thus accumulating the stones, it caused as much water to come within its reach as was necessary to satisfy its thirst.
CHAP. 61. (44.)—THE BIRDS OF DIOMEDES.
Nor yet must I pass by the birds[3055] of Diomedes in silence. Juba calls these birds “cataractæ,” and says that they have teeth and eyes of a fiery colour, while the rest of the body is white: that they always have two chiefs, the one to lead the main body, the other to take charge of the rear; that they excavate holes with their bills, and then cover them with hurdles, which they cover again with the earth that has been thus thrown up; that it is in these places they hatch their young; that each of these holes has two outlets; that one of them looks towards the east, and that by it they go forth to feed, returning by the one which looks towards the west; and that when about to ease themselves, they always take to the wing, and fly against the wind. In one spot only throughout the whole earth are these birds to be seen, in the island, namely, which we have mentioned[3056] as famous for the tomb and shrine of Diomedes, lying over against the coast of Apulia: they bear a strong resemblance to the coot. When strangers who are barbarians arrive on that island, they pursue them with loud and clamorous cries, and only show courtesy to Greeks by birth; seeming thereby, with a wonderful discernment, to pay respect to them as the fellow-countrymen of Diomedes. Every day they fill their throats, and cover their feathers, with water, and so wash and purify the temple there. From this circumstance arises the fable[3057] that the companions of Diomedes were metamorphosed into these birds.
CHAP. 62. (45.)—ANIMALS THAT CAN LEARN NOTHING.
We ought not to omit, while we are speaking of instincts, that among birds the swallow[3058] is quite incapable of being taught, and among land animals the mouse; while on the other hand, the elephant does what it is ordered, the lion submits to the yoke, and the sea-calf and many kinds of fishes are capable of being tamed.
CHAP. 63. (46.)—THE MODE OF DRINKING WITH BIRDS. THE PORPHYRIO.
Birds drink by suction; those which have a long neck taking their drink in a succession of draughts, and throwing the head back, as though they were pouring the water down the throat. The porphyrio[3059] is the only bird that seems to bite at the water as it drinks. The same bird has also other peculiarities of its own; for it will every now and then dip its food in the water, and then lift it with its foot to its bill, using it as a hand. Those that are the most esteemed are found in Commagene. They have beaks and very long legs, of a red colour.
CHAP. 64. (47.)—THE HÆMATOPOUS.
There are the same characteristics in the hæmatopous[3060] also, a bird of much smaller size, although standing as high on the legs. It is a native of Egypt, and has three toes on each foot; flies[3061] forming its principal food. If brought to Italy, it survives for a few days only.
CHAP. 65.—THE FOOD OF BIRDS.
All the heavy birds are frugivorous; while those with a higher flight feed upon flesh only. Among the aquatic birds, the divers[3062] are in the habit of devouring what the other birds have disgorged.
CHAP. 66.—THE PELICAN.
The pelican is similar in appearance to the swan, and it would be thought that there was no difference between them whatever, were it not for the fact that under the throat there is a sort of second crop, as it were. It is in this that the ever-insatiate animal stows everything away, so much so, that the capacity of this pouch is quite astonishing. After having finished its search for prey, it discharges bit by bit what it has thus stowed away, and reconveys it by a sort of ruminating process into its real stomach. The part of Gallia that lies nearest to the Northern Ocean produces this bird.
CHAP. 67.—FOREIGN BIRDS: THE PHALERIDES, THE PHEASANT, AND THE NUMIDICÆ.
In the Hercynian Forest, in Germany, we hear of a singular[3063] kind of bird, the feathers of which shine at night like fire; the other birds there have nothing remarkable beyond the celebrity which generally attaches to objects situate at a distance.
(48.) The phalerides,[3064] the most esteemed of all the aquatic birds, are found at Seleucia, the city of the Parthians of that name, and in Asia as well; and again, in Colchis, there is the pheasant,[3065] a bird with two tufts of feathers like ears, which it drops and raises every now and then. The numidicæ[3066] come from Numidia, a part of Africa: all these varieties are now to be found in Italy.
CHAP. 68.—THE PHŒNICOPTERUS, THE ATTAGEN, THE PHALACROCORAX, THE PYRRHOCORAX, AND THE LAGOPUS.
Apicius, that very deepest whirlpool of all our epicures, has informed us that the tongue of the phœnicopterus[3067] is of the most exquisite flavour. The attagen,[3068] also, of Ionia is a famous bird; but although it has a voice at other times, it is mute in captivity. It was formerly[3069] reckoned among the rare birds, but at the present day it is found in Gallia, Spain, and in the Alps even; which is also the case with the phalacrocorax,[3070] a bird peculiar to the Balearic Isles, as the pyrrhocorax,[3071] a black bird with a yellow bill, is to the Alps, and the lagopus,[3072] which is esteemed for its excellent flavour. This last bird derives its name from its feet, which are covered, as it were, with the fur of a hare, the rest of the body being white, and the size of a pigeon. It is not an easy matter to taste it out of its native country, as it never becomes domesticated, and when dead it quickly spoils.
There is another[3073] bird also, which has the same name, and only differs from the quail in size; it is of a saffron colour, and is most delicate eating. Egnatius Calvinus, who was prefect there, pretends that he has seen[3074] in the Alps the ibis also, a bird that is peculiar to Egypt.
CHAP. 69. (49.)—THE NEW BIRDS. THE VIPIO.
During the civil wars that took place at Bebriacum, beyond the river Padus, the “new birds”[3075] were introduced into Italy—for by that name they are still known. They resemble the thrush in appearance, are a little smaller than the pigeon in size, and of an agreeable flavour. The Balearic islands also send us a porphyrio,[3076] that is superior to the one previously mentioned. There the buteo, a kind of hawk, is held in high esteem for the table, as also the vipio,[3077] the name given to a small kind of crane.
CHAP. 70.—FABULOUS BIRDS.
I look upon the birds as fabulous which are called “pegasi,” and are said to have a horse’s head; as also the griffons, with long ears and a hooked beak. The former are said to be natives of Scythia,[3078] the latter of Æthiopia. The same is my opinion, also, as to the tragopan;[3079] many writers, however, assert that it is larger than the eagle, has curved horns on the temples, and a plumage of iron colour, with the exception of the head, which is purple. Nor yet do the sirens[3080] obtain any greater credit with me, although Dinon, the father of Clearchus, a celebrated writer, asserts that they exist in India, and that they charm men by their song, and, having first lulled them to sleep, tear them to pieces. The person, however, who may think fit to believe in these tales, may probably not refuse to believe also that dragons licked the ears of Melampodes, and bestowed upon him the power of understanding the language of birds; as also what Democritus says, when he gives the names of certain birds, by the mixture of whose blood a serpent is produced, the person who eats of which will be able to understand the language of birds; as well as the statements which the same writer makes relative to one bird in particular, known as the “galerita,”[3081]—indeed, the science of augury is already too much involved in embarrassing questions, without these fanciful reveries.
There is a kind of bird spoken of by Homer as the “scops:”[3082] but I cannot very easily comprehend the grotesque movements which many persons have attributed to it, when the fowler is laying snares for it; nor, indeed, is it a bird that is any longer known to exist. It will be better, therefore, to confine my relation to those the existence of which is generally admitted.
CHAP. 71. (50.)—WHO FIRST INVENTED THE ART OF CRAMMING POULTRY: WHY THE FIRST CENSORS FORBADE THIS PRACTICE.
The people of Delos were the first to cram poultry; and it is with them that originated that abominable mania for devouring fattened birds, larded with the grease of their own bodies. I find in the ancient sumptuary regulations as to banquets, that this was forbidden for the first time by a law of the consul Caius Fannius, eleven years before the Third Punic War; by which it was ordered that no bird should be served at table beyond a single pullet, and that not fattened; an article which has since made its appearance in all the sumptuary[3083] laws. A method, however, has been devised of evading it, by feeding poultry upon food that has been soaked in milk: prepared in this fashion, they are considered even still more delicate. All pullets, however, are not looked upon as equally good for the purposes of fattening, and only those are selected which have a fatty skin about the neck. Then, too, come all the arts of the kitchen—that the thighs may have a nice plump appearance, that the bird may be properly divided down the back, and that poultry may be brought to such a size that a single leg shall fill a whole platter.[3084] The Parthians, too, have taught their fashions to our cooks; and yet after all, in spite of their refinements in luxury, no article is found to please equally in every part, for in one it is the thigh, and in another the breast only, that is esteemed.
CHAP. 72.—WHO FIRST INVENTED AVIARIES. THE DISH OF ÆSOPUS.
The first person who invented aviaries for the reception of all kinds of birds was M. Lænius Strabo, a member of the equestrian order, who resided at Brundisium. It was in his time that we thus began to imprison animals to which Nature had assigned the heavens as their element.
(51.) But more remarkable than anything in this respect, is the story of the dish of Clodius Æsopus,[3085] the tragic actor, which was valued at one hundred thousand sesterces, and in which were served up nothing but birds that had been remarkable for their song, or their imitation of the human voice, and purchased, each of them, at the price of six thousand sesterces; he being induced to this folly by no other pleasure than that in these he might eat the closest imitators of man; never for a moment reflecting that his own immense fortune had been acquired by the advantages of his voice; a parent, indeed, right worthy of the son of whom we have already made mention,[3086] as swallowing pearls. It would not, to say the truth, be very easy to come to a conclusion which of the two was guilty of the greatest baseness; unless, indeed, we are ready to admit that it was less unseemly to banquet upon the most costly of all the productions of Nature, than to devour[3087] tongues which had given utterance to the language of man.
CHAP. 73. (52.)—THE GENERATION OF BIRDS: OTHER OVIPAROUS ANIMALS.
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The Natural History of Pliny, Volume 2 (of 6)Chapter XXI: Book X: The Natural History of Birds (2)
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