THE CUCKOO.
“Not the whole warbling grove in concert heard
When sunshine follows shower the breast can thrill
Like the first summons, Cuckoo, of thy bill.”
—Wordsworth.
he soft, far reaching notes of the Cuckoo are loved by young and old alike, because they tell a tale of hope and gladness, of warm sunshine and sweet spring flowers. It has been regarded as “the darling of the year” all down the ages since the oldest known English lyric, in which it figures, was penned:
“Sumer is icumen in,
Loude sing Cuckoo.”
The Cuckoo is a strange, mysterious bird whose history is not yet fully known in spite of all the careful attention it has received at the hands of naturalists for generations.
It arrives in this country during April, and departs again in July, leaving its uncared-for young ones to follow, in August and September, to the winter quarters of the species in Africa’s sunny clime.
FOSTER MOTHER TREE PIPIT STRETCHING HERSELF AFTER HAVING FED YOUNG CUCKOO.
The bird makes no attempt whatever at nest-building, but deposits its eggs singly, as a rule in those of small birds, and allows the little dupes to hatch out and rear its young. From its similarity in appearance to a small hawk the ancients believed that in the winter it changed into one. They were also firmly convinced that young Cuckoos not only swallowed all the other chicks in the nests in which they were hatched out themselves, but, as a mark of ingratitude, finally devoured their foster-parents. Although this was, of course, quite wrong, the real facts of the bird’s life and career are quite as romantic, as we shall see presently.
Up to quite recently, people supposed that the female Cuckoo, when about to lay, watched the nest of some small bird until the owner left it in search of food, when she stealthily sat down and dropped one of her own eggs into the structure. Unfortunately for this theory, it would not hold good in the case of domed nests built by such species as the Common Wren and Willow Warbler, both of which are occasionally victimised. This puzzle has been satisfactorily solved by the discovery of the real facts. The Cuckoo lays her eggs upon the ground, and, picking them up in her bill, deposits them in the homes of birds whose own productions they will to some extent match in colours.
YOUNG CUCKOO IN MEADOW
PIPIT’S NEST, BIRD’S OWN EGGS
THROWN OUT ON TO EDGE
OF STRUCTURE.
CUCKOO’S EGG IN MEADOW PIPIT’S NEST.
Cuckoo’s eggs vary very widely in point of coloration. They are usually reddish grey, mottled and spotted closely with darker markings of the same colour, or pale greyish-green marked with spots of a darker hue. I have met with them matching in colours those of the Meadow Pipit, Pied Wagtail, and Reed Warbler so closely that they were scarcely discernible except for their larger size, and a blue specimen has been found in the nest of a Hedge Sparrow.
Some naturalists are of opinion that a Cuckoo is able to lay an egg of any colour at will, whilst others favour the opinion that if an egg closely resembles in point of coloration those of the bird, say a Tree Pipit, in whose nest it has been placed, that young Cuckoo’s grandfather and grandmother were also reared by Tree Pipits.
ADULT CUCKOO.
“COME AND HEAR THE CUCKOO SING.
COME AND BREATHE THE BREATH OF SPRING.”
Another important fact which aids deception when trying to impose upon small birds is that a Cuckoo’s egg is only one-quarter the size of what might reasonably be expected from the dimensions of its layer. It is much heavier, however, than any other egg of its size, and has a thicker shell.
Competent naturalists have asserted that the Cuckoo lays as many as five eggs during a season, and although only one specimen as a rule is found in the nest of an intended foster-parent, as many as three may be met with, but whether deposited by the same individual or not, it is, of course, impossible to say. Hedge Sparrows and Robins are the greatest victims, but even the Jay, Wood Pigeon, and Carrion Crow have been successfully imposed upon.
YOUNG CUCKOO WAITING FOR ITS FOSTER-MOTHER WITH FOOD.
With a view to finding out whether the deceptive path of the bird that “tells its name to all the hills around” is a smooth one or not, some years ago I had four wooden eggs made and painted to resemble those of the Song Thrush. I tried my counterfeits upon several different species, such as Starlings, Song Thrushes, and Grasshopper Warblers, and deceived them straight away without the slightest trouble, but when I attempted to impose upon a Ringed Plover, whose eggs I found in a little declivity on a shingly beach, she detected the fraud at once, and tapping my dummy eggs with her bill, turned round and walked away in disgust.
In order to prove how easily some birds are duped, I may mention that two lady friends of mine have, for the last three or four seasons, taken a clutch of Starling’s eggs out of a hole in a stable wall, and replaced them by one common fowl’s egg, and that on each occasion the foster-mother has successfully hatched out a chick.
A STORY IN THREE CHAPTERS:
A YOUNG CUCKOO AND HIS TREE PIPIT FOSTER-MOTHER.
The young Cuckoo arrives into the world without a scrap of down or the sign of a feather on its dusky, ugly little body. Very soon after it is hatched it begins to show signs of great restlessness and energy, endeavouring to throw out whatever else there may be in the nest in the shape of eggs or young. Nature has equipped the little monster well for its murderous task, by providing a hollow between its broad shoulders for the reception of its victims. It makes great efforts to get beneath whatever else is in the nest in which it has been hatched, and when it gets an egg or chick upon its back, with raised wings, head depressed, and a foot firmly planted on either side of the nest, it rears its burden and casts it out.
FOSTER-MOTHER TREE PIPIT
COMING WITH FOOD FOR YOUNG CUCKOO.
This wonderful performance was first observed by the great Dr. Jenner of vaccination fame, and afterwards confirmed by the observations and wonderfully accurate pictures made by my friend Mrs. Blackburn. Curiously enough, her daughter, Miss Blackburn, found the Meadow Pipit’s nest from which her mother saw the rightful owners ejected by the young Cuckoo and also the nest belonging to the same species figured on page 3 of this work.
Sometimes two young Cuckoos are hatched out in the same nest, and then a great struggle takes place between them for possession.
Very odd things occasionally occur in regard to Cuckoo’s eggs. I have found one, perfectly fresh, covered over with moss and down inside a Hedge Sparrow’s nest wherein the bird had laid none of her own. I have known one lie untouched outside a Meadow Pipit’s nest, but whether left there by the layer or cast forth by the owner of the structure it is impossible to say.
TREE PIPIT ABOUT TO ALIGHT
ON YOUNG CUCKOO’S BACK
WITH FOOD. PHOTOGRAPHED
IN 1/500 OF A SECOND.
A short time ago a friend of mine found a Sedge Warbler’s nest near Gloucester with four eggs in it. The following day when we returned to the place the nest contained only three and a Cuckoo’s egg. As I wanted a photograph of a member of the species for the present work, I parted the thick sedge grass and, erecting my camera within a few feet, got everything ready and went into hiding beneath my apparatus. In less than two minutes she returned and, gazing into her home, suddenly grew greatly agitated and began to hammer the Cuckoo’s egg unmercifully with her bill. Fearing that she might break it before I secured a photograph, I jumped up and drove her away, at the same time calling my companion over to take care of the object of her resentment. Directly it was gone she assumed all her native gentleness of manner and sat down upon her own eggs quite happy.
MORE, PLEASE!
Although young Cuckoos show so much sagacity in getting rid of any other occupants of the nest in which they have been hatched, they sometimes exhibit great stupidity in other directions. For instance, the young bird shown with his Tree Pipit foster-mother in the illustrations figuring in this chapter did not understand the alarm cry of the little brown bird at all. It did not matter however loudly she cried “danger” outside the nest up to a certain stage in his career, if he heard anything moving he shot up his head and opened his mouth very widely in request of food. Then, again, if a newly fledged Cuckoo happens to be resting on level ground and his foster-mother, say a Robin, Hedge Sparrow or Pied Wagtail, comes along with a supply of food, he has not the sense to accommodate himself to the stature of his wee parent, for, instead of lowering his great dappled head, he rears it as high in the air as he can, and the feeder has to stand on his shoulders, as shown in the accompanying photograph, and literally drop the food down his throat.
TREE PIPIT FEEDING YOUNG
CUCKOO WHILST STANDING ON
HIS SHOULDERS.
The food of adult Cuckoos is insectivorous, and consists largely of hairy caterpillars such as those of the Drinker Moth.
The Cuckoo sings upon the wing, and sometimes keeps up its vocal efforts all night long. It has been asserted that only the male cries “Cuckoo,” but this is not the fact, as females have been shot in the act of singing.
On the Yenisei its cry is “Hoo-hoo.”
Gilbert White, in his delightful “Natural History of Selborne,” says that some Cuckoos sing in D, some in D sharp, and some in C, and that the two former whilst performing together make a very disagreeable duet.
The notes of the bird are easily imitated by the human voice, and in the springtime I often amuse my friends by calling individuals into their gardens.
