BIRD LIFE IN AFRICA.
It would be interesting to view more of the mammals of Africa, did space permit. Certainly the field is a wide one; for out of the three hundred species which are known to exist among the animals of Africa more than two hundred varieties are found exclusively in that country and in the island of Madagascar.
As in all tropical countries, the birds of Africa are distinguished, in the main, for the brilliancy of their coloring, rather than for the beauty of their song.
In our views of the Nile we have seen that various reed and water birds, as well as birds of prey, frequent its banks.
The African parrot is a bird worthy of mention. Though not as brilliant in coloring as the parrots of other tropical sections, yet it is considered the most valuable, perhaps, of all parrots, since it can easily be trained to speak fluently and very distinctly. Its coat of soft gray feathers and its scarlet-tipped tail make it by no means an unattractive bird, when compared with its more gorgeously dressed relatives from other lands.
The grosbeak of the wilds of Africa affords a wonderful example of nest building; for not one single pair, but hundreds, may be found living under the same roof. These nests resemble a thatch-roofed house with a projecting ridge, so that it is an impossibility for any reptile to approach the entrances, which are deftly hidden below.
One writer states, "Their industry seems almost equal to that of the bee. Throughout the day they appear to be busily employed in carrying a fine species of grass, which is the principal material they employ for the purpose of erecting this extraordinary work, as well as for additions and repairs.
"Though my short stay in the country was not sufficient to satisfy me, by ocular proof, that they added to their nest as they annually increased in numbers, still from the many trees which I have seen borne down by the weight, and others which I have observed with their boughs completely covered over, it would appear that this really was the case.
"When the tree which is the support of this aerial city is obliged to give way to the increase of weight, it is obvious they are no longer protected, and are under the necessity of rebuilding in other trees.
"One of these deserted nests I had the curiosity to break down, so as to inform myself of its internal structure, and I found it equally ingenious with that of the external. There are many entrances, each of which forms a separate street with nests on both sides, at about two inches from each other."
Livingstone gives the following description of a curious bird called the korwé: "We passed the nest of a korwé just ready for the female to enter. The orifice was plastered on both sides, but a space was left of a heart shape, and exactly the size of the bird's body.
"The hole in the tree was in every case found to be prolonged some distance upward above the opening, and thither the korwé always fled to escape being caught.
"In another nest we found that one white egg, much like that of a pigeon, was laid.
"The first time that I saw this nest I had gone to the forest for some timber. Standing by a tree, a native looked behind me and exclaimed, 'There is the nest of a korwé.' I saw a slit only, about half an inch wide and three or four inches long, in a slight hollow of the tree.
"Thinking the word korwé denoted some small animal, I waited with interest to see what he would extract. He broke the clay which surrounded the slit, put his arm into the hole, and drew out a red-beaked hornbill. He informed me that when the female enters her nest the male plasters up the entrance, leaving only a narrow slit by which to feed his mate, and which exactly suits the form of his beak.
"The female makes a nest of her own feathers, lays her eggs, hatches them, and remains with the young till they are fully fledged. During all this, which is stated to be two or three months, the male continues to feed her and the young family. The prisoner generally becomes quite fat, and is esteemed a very dainty morsel by the natives, while the poor slave of a husband gets so lean that, on the sudden lowering of the temperature which sometimes happens after a fall of rain, he is benumbed, falls down, and dies.
"The bird comes forth when the young are fully fledged, at the period when the corn is ripe. Indeed, her appearance abroad with her young is one of the signs for knowing when it ought to be harvested.
"She is said sometimes to hatch two eggs, and when the young of these are full-fledged, another pair are just out of the eggshell. She then leaves the nest with the two elder, the orifice is again plastered up, and both male and female attend to the wants of the young which are left."
The African weavers are remarkable for the eccentricity of the shape and design of their nests. Most of these nests dangle at the end of twigs and sway in every breeze. Some of them are long, others short. Many have the entrance to the nest at one side, some have it at the bottom, others near the top.
Some of these nests are slung like hammocks; others are suspended from the end of a twig; others still are built in palms, and since these trees have no branches nor twigs the nests are fastened to the ends of the leaves.
Some nests are made of the finest and most delicate fibers, while others are of the coarsest kinds of straw. Many are of open texture, so that the eggs within can be easily seen; others are extremely strong and thick, so that one might well believe that they had been constructed by a professional thatcher.
One variety of weaver, though a pretty little bird, is no great favorite with the African farmers. It is very numerous in the cultivated regions, and does not scruple to help itself to the produce of the gardens. Hence the owners are obliged to keep a close watch if they would secure a fair share of the crops.
Another weaver, the yellow-capped, is remarkable for the extreme neatness and compactness of the nest it builds. The body of the nest is of seed-stems, so closely interwoven that it may be roughly handled, or even kicked about like a football, without being destroyed. Its interior is a lining which consists of layers of flat leaves, kept in place by their own elasticity, and thus affording a soft resting place for the eggs and nestlings.
On one occasion Livingstone, while collecting wood for the evening fire, found a bird's nest which consisted of live leaves sewn together with threads of the spider's web. Nothing could exceed the airiness of this pretty contrivance. The threads had been pushed through small punctures, and thickened to resemble a knot. Unfortunately he lost this nest, which was the second one he had seen resembling that of the tailor bird of India.
This same traveler states that while exploring the rapids of the Leeambye, in passing along under the overhanging trees of the banks, he often saw the pretty turtle doves sitting peacefully on their nests above the roaring torrent. In one instance an ibis had perched her home on the end of a stump. Her loud, harsh scream of "Wa-wa-wa," and the piping of the fish-hawk, were sounds which could never be forgotten by any one who had sailed on the rivers north of 20° south latitude.
As he stepped on shore, a species of plover followed him, flying overhead, and it was most persevering in its attempts to give fair warning to all the animals within hearing to flee from the approaching danger.
The alarm note, "tinc-tinc-tinc," of another variety of the same family has so clear a metallic ring that the bird is called "hammering iron." It has a sharp spur on its shoulder, much like that on the leg of a rooster, but scarcely half an inch in length.