Natural History in Anecdote / Illustrating the nature, habits, manners and customs of animals, birds, fishes, reptiles, etc., etc., etc.

by Unknown

CLASS II—AVES.

Classification. The Birds are distinguished from the Mammals by many obvious characteristics, chief among which are their bodily form, their feathery covering and their manner of producing their young by means of eggs. The Birds form the second class of the sub-kingdom Vertebrate and according to the classification followed in this work are divided into ten orders. These orders are, I Passeres: birds characterised by the habit of perching; II Picariæ: birds that climb, etc. Ill Psittacini: the Parrots; IV Columbæ: the Doves; V Gallinæ: the Fowls; VI Opisthocomi: the Hoazin of Brazil and Guinea; VII Accipitres: the Birds of Prey; VIII Grallatores: the birds that wade; IX Anseres: the Birds that swim; X Struthiones: the Ostrich, the Emu, etc., etc.

ORDER I.
Perching Birds. The species of this order are very numerous, and have been variously divided by different authorities. Mr. Wallace forms them into five groups, which classification we shall find it convenient to follow. These five groups are: I The Thrushes and Thrush-like perching birds; II The Tanagers and similar kinds; III The Starlings and allied species; IV The Ant-eaters, etc., and V The Lyre Birds, and the Scrub Birds of Australia. The first group includes many well known feathered favourites: the Thrush; the Blackbird; the Mocking Bird; the Tailor Bird; the Wren; the Robin; the Nightingale; the Titmouse; the Golden Oriole; the Jay; the Magpie; the Raven; the Rook; the Carrion Crow; the Jackdaw; the Chough; and the Bird of Paradise. The second group includes the Swallow; the Martin; the Goldfinch; the Linnet; the Canary; the Bullfinch; the Bunting and many others. The third group contains the Starlings; the Weaver Bird; the Lark; the Wagtail, and the Pipits; the fourth group, the King Bird of North America; the Manakins of Guinea; the Chatterers of South America; the Bell Bird of Brazil, and the Umbrella Bird of the Amazon. The fifth group contains the Lyre Birds and the Scrub Birds of Australia.

The Thrush. The order of Thrush-like perching birds is a very large one, including nearly three thousand known varieties. Of these it will be impossible, within present limits, to even mention a very large number, and we shall content ourselves with dealing with a few of the better known species.

The Common Thrush. The Thrush is one of the most popular of English native birds, as its song is one of the most beautiful of those of the bird kind. It is a herald of the English spring and summer, beginning to sing at the end of January and continuing until July. It builds its nest in a hedge or bush, and, as it breeds early in the year, lines it with a plaster of mud to protect its young from the cold winds. It is a bold bird and will vigorously defend its nest from the attacks of larger birds. It feeds on insects, snails and worms.

"Watch an old thrush," says Dr. Stanley, "pounce down on a lawn, moistened with dew and rain. At first he stands motionless, apparently thinking of nothing at all, his eye vacant, or with an unmeaning gaze. Suddenly he cocks his ear on one side, makes a glancing sort of dart with his head and neck, gives perhaps one or two hops, and then stops, again listening attentively, and his eye glistening with attention and animation; his beak almost touches the ground,—he draws back his head as if to make a determined peck. Again he pauses; listens again; hops, perhaps once or twice, scarcely moving his position, and pecks smartly on the sod; then is once more motionless as a stuffed bird. But he knows well what he is about; for, after another moment's pause, having ascertained that all is right, he pecks away with might and main, and soon draws out a fine worm, which his fine sense of hearing had informed him was not far off, and which his hops and previous peckings had attracted to the surface, to escape the approach of what the poor worm thought might be his underground enemy, the mole."

The Missel Thrush. The Missel Thrush, so called from its fondness for the mistletoe, is larger than the common or song thrush, less melodious and not so common in England, but well known upon the continent of Europe. Like the song thrush it finds a determined enemy in the magpie, against which it often defends itself with success. It is, however, unable to withstand a combined attack. Gilbert White says: "The Missel-thrush is, while breeding, fierce and pugnacious, driving such birds as approach its nest with great fury to a distance. The Welsh call it "pen y llwyn," the head or master of the coppice. He suffers no magpie, jay, or blackbird, to enter the garden where he haunts; and is, for the time, a good guard to the new-sown legumens. In general, he is very successful in the defence of his family; but once I observed in my garden, that several magpies came determined to storm the nest of a missel-thrush: the dams defended their mansion with great vigour, and fought resolutely pro aris et focis; but numbers at last prevailed, they tore the nest to pieces, and swallowed the young alive."

The Blackbird. The Blackbird is another of the most cherished of English song birds. It is one of the earliest to wake the morning with a song. Its habits are similar to those of the Thrush; it builds its nest in bushes, in shrubberies and gardens, safe from the sight, but close to the haunts of man. It lines its nest with a plaster of mud which it covers over with dry grass, and is exemplary in the care of its young. It has a black coat as its name implies, and an orange tawny bill. The blackbird has to some extent the power of the mocking bird, of imitating the sounds it hears,—such as the chuckling of a hen, the song of the nightingale, the caw of the crow. In the "Magazine of Natural History" of September 1831, Mr. Bouchier of Wold Rectory, near Northampton, says: "Within half a mile of my residence there is a blackbird which crows constantly, and as accurately as the common cock, and nearly as loud; as it may, on a still day, be heard at the distance of several hundred yards. When first told of the circumstance, I conjectured that it must have been the work of a cock pheasant, concealed in a neighbouring brake; but, on the assurance that it was nothing more or less than a common blackbird, I determined to ascertain the fact with my own eyes and ears; and this day I had the gratification of getting close to it, seated on the top bough of an ash tree, and pursuing with unceasing zeal its unusual note. The resemblance to the crow of the domestic cock is so perfect, that more than one in the distance were answering it. It occasionally indulged in its usual song; but only for a second or two; resuming its more favourite note; and once or twice it commenced with crowing, and broke off in the middle into its natural whistle. In what way this bird has acquired its present propensity I am unable to say, except that as its usual haunt is near a mill where poultry are kept, it may have learned the note from the common fowl."

The Blackbird of America resembles his English cousin in most particulars. He is often seen following the plough, looking for worms in the fresh furrows, and frequently, like the crow, stealing the planted maize or Indian corn from the hill. In the autumn the American Blackbirds gather in vast flocks, and sometimes produce a roar like the rush of a waterfall by their flight.

The Mocking Bird. The Mocking Bird is a native of America and many stories are told of its wonderful powers of mimicry. The following description is furnished by Wilson: "The plumage of the Mocking Bird, though none of the homeliest, has nothing gaudy or brilliant in it, and, had he nothing else to recommend him, would scarcely entitle him to notice; but his figure is well proportioned, and even handsome. The ease, elegance, and rapidity of his movements, the animation of his eye, and the intelligence he displays in listening, and laying up lessons from almost every species of the feathered creation within his hearing, are really surprising, and mark the peculiarity of his genius. In his native groves, mounted upon the top of a tall bush or half grown tree, in the dawn of a dewy morning, while the woods are already vocal with a multitude of warblers, his admirable song rises pre-eminent over every competitor. The ear can listen to his music alone, to which that of all the others seems a mere accompaniment. Neither is this strain altogether imitative. His own native notes, which are easily distinguishable by such as are acquainted with those of our various song birds, are bold and full, and varied seemingly beyond all limits. They consist of short expressions of two, three, or at the most five or six syllables, generally interspersed with imitations, and all of them uttered with great emphasis and rapidity, and continued with undiminished ardour for half an hour, or an hour, at a time. His expanded wings and tail, glistening with white, and the buoyant gaiety of his action, arresting the eye, as his song most irresistibly does the ear, he sweeps round with enthusiastic ecstasy and mounts and descends as his song swells or dies away. 'He bounds aloft with the celerity of an arrow, as if to recover or recall his very soul, which expired in the last elevated strain.' He often deceives the sportsman, and sends him in search of birds that are not perhaps within miles of him, but whose notes he exactly imitates: even birds themselves are frequently imposed upon by this admirable mimic, and are decoyed by the fancied calls of their mates, or dive with precipitation into the depth of thickets at the scream of what they suppose to be the sparrow-hawk."

The Tailor Bird. The Tailor Bird is a small bird of no very remarkable appearance, but it is singular from its habit of sewing leaves together in forming its nest. This it does by using its beak as a needle, and certain vegetable fibres as thread, and sewing the edges of leaves together in the form of a pocket, in which it deposits its eggs and rears its young.

The Golden Crested Wren. The Golden Crested Wren is the smallest of British Birds, and it is one of the most beautiful, according to Mrs. Bowdich it only weighs eighty grains. It is peculiar among British birds for suspending its nest to the boughs of trees. Its nest is an elegant structure, sometimes open at the top, sometimes covered with a dome, having an entrance at the side. It is a tame bird, and often visits country gardens where it may be distinguished by its green and yellow coat with white facings, and its golden crest. Captain Brown says: "its song is weak and intermittent, yet sweet as that which fancy attributes to the fairy on the moonlight hill."

The Migration of Birds. Captain Brown, quoting from "Selby's Ornithology", gives an interesting account of the way in which our native birds are reinforced from other countries.—"On the 24th and 25th of October, 1822," says Mr. Selby, "after a very severe gale, with thick fog, from the North East, (but veering, towards its conclusion, to the east and south of east,) thousands of these birds were seen to arrive upon the sea-shore and sand-banks of the Northumbrian coast; many of them so fatigued by the length of their flight, or perhaps by the unfavourable shift of wind, as to be unable to rise again from the ground, and great numbers were in consequence caught or destroyed. This flight must have been immensely numerous, as its extent was traced through the whole length of the coasts of Northumberland and Durham. There appears little doubt of this having been a migration from the more northern provinces of Europe (probably furnished by the pine forests of Norway, Sweden, &c.), from the circumstance of its arrival being simultaneous with that of large flights of the woodcock, fieldfare, and redwing. Although I had never before witnessed the actual arrival of the gold-crested regulus, I had long felt convinced, from the great and sudden increase of the species, during the autumnal and hyemal months that our indigenous birds must be augmented by a body of strangers making these shores their winter's resort.—A more extraordinary circumstance in the economy of this bird took place during the same winter, viz., the total disappearance of the whole, natives as well as strangers, throughout Scotland and the north of England. This happened towards the conclusion of the month of January 1823, and a few days previous to the long-continued snow-storm so severely felt throughout the northern counties of England, and along the eastern parts of Scotland. The range and point of this migration are unascertained, but it must probably have been a distant one, from the fact of not a single pair having returned to breed, or pass the succeeding summer, in the situations they had been known always to frequent. Nor was one of the species to be seen till the following October, or about the usual time, as I have above stated, for our receiving an annual accession of strangers to our own indigenous birds."

The Willow Wren. The Willow Wren is a summer visitor to the British Isles. He arrives about the end of March and leaves in the month of September. He is an active little bird, an expert fly-catcher and an agreeable singer. His coat is of a greenish yellow-brown, his waistcoat is white tinged with yellow.

The Common Wren. The Common Wren is indigenous to Great Britain. It builds its nest under the shelter of thatched eaves, in out-of-the-way and unusual places. It is a plain homely looking little bird of a pale chestnut brown colour. Captain Brown gives the following interesting description of a wren's music lesson.

A Wren's Music Lesson. "A pair of wrens," says Captain Brown, "built their nest in a box, so situated that the family on the grounds had an opportunity of observing the mother's care in instructing her young ones to sing. She seated herself on one side of the opening of the box, facing her young, and commenced by singing over all her notes very slowly and distinctly. One of the little ones then attempted to imitate her. After chirping rather inharmoniously a few notes, its pipe failed, and it went off the tune. The mother immediately took up the tune where the young one had failed, and distinctly finished the remaining part. The young one made a second attempt, commencing where it had left off, and continuing for a few notes with tolerable distinctness, when it again lost the notes; the mother began again where it ceased, and went through with the air. The young one again resumed the tune and completed it. When this was done, the mother again sung over the whole of her song with great precision; and then another of the young attempted to follow it, who likewise was incapable of going through with the tune, but the parent treated it as she had done the first bird; and so on with the third and fourth. It sometimes happened that the little one would lose the tune, even three or four times in making the attempt; in which case the mother uniformly commenced where it had ceased, and always sung to the end of the tune; and when each had completed the trial, she always sung over the whole song. Sometimes two of them commenced the strain together, in which case she pursued the same conduct towards them, as she had done when one sung. This was repeated at intervals every day, while they remained in their nest."

The House Wren. The American House Wren is described by Audubon as a cheery familiar little bird, resembling the common wren in many of his habits, if not indeed identical with it.

Wilson says, "in the month of June a mower hung up his coat, under a shed, near the barn, and two or three days elapsed before he had occasion to put it on again, when thrusting his arm up the sleeve, he found it completely filled with some rubbish, as he called it, and on extracting the whole mass, found it to be the nest of a wren completely finished, and lined with a large quantity of feathers. In his retreat, he was followed by the forlorn little proprietors, who scolded him with great vehemence for thus ruining the whole economy of their household affairs." Wilson also tells a very pretty story of a pair of wrens who built their nest upon a window sill, one of whom, the female, venturing to enter the room was devoured by a cat. The male bird showed much uneasiness when he missed his mate, but after a time disappeared for two days, returning with a new wife, and with her help removing the two eggs left by her predecessor to a new nest in a more secure position.

The Nightingale. The Nightingale and the Sky-Lark, may perhaps be said to divide honours in the sphere of feathered song. Both have entranced innumerable auditors and both have won noble tributes from poets' pens. Both, moreover, are plain birds. The nightingale is of a tawny colour on the head and back, and of a greyish white on the throat and under parts. It has a full large eye of great brightness. It is one of the largest of the song birds, measuring seven inches in length. The nightingale is found in Yorkshire but not in Lancashire, also in Surrey, Sussex, Kent, Dorsetshire, Somersetshire and East Devonshire, but not in Cornwall. It belongs to France, Germany, Poland, Italy, and Palestine.

The Nightingale's Song. "The Nightingale's song," says the author of "Tales of Animals," "unites strength and sweetness, in a most wonderful degree, as its notes may be heard on a calm evening at the distance of half a mile. The most consummate musician might listen with delight to its song, whatever might be his peculiar taste, as it can at one moment thrill the heart with joy and at another melt it to sober sadness, by the laughing and sighing modulations which follow each other in rapid succession through the melody, which is seldom interrupted by a pause. As if conscious of its unrivalled powers, it does not join the sometimes discordant concert of the other songsters, but waits on some solitary twig till the blackbird and thrush have uttered their evening call, till the stock and ring doves have lulled each other to rest, and then it displays at full its melodious fancies." The following is an attempt made by a well-known naturalist to reduce the song to writing:

"Tiuu tiuu tiuu tiuu—Spe tiuu zqua—Tiō tiō tiō tio tio tio tio tix—Qutio qutio qutio qutio—Zquo zquo zquo zquo—Tzü tzü tzü tzü tzü tzü tzü tzü tzü tzi—Quorror tin zqua pipiquisi—Zozozozozozozozozozozozo zirrhading!" &c. &c.

Quaint old Izaac Walton says: "But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet, loud music out of her instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think that miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descents, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, 'Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in Heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth!'"

The Robin Redbreast. The Robin Redbreast is a prime favourite in English cottage homes. Its appearance on the window sill at the approach of winter is an irresistible appeal to human sympathy and seldom fails of a hearty response. Captain Brown mentions a robin which, during a severe storm, came to the window of the room where his father sat, upon which his father opened the window, to give it some crumbs. "Instead of flying away, the robin hopped into the room, and picked the crumbs from the floor. His father, being very fond of animals, took great pleasure in taming this bird, and so completely succeeded, that it would pick small pieces of raw flesh and worms from his hand, sat on the table at which he wrote, and, when the day was very cold, perched upon the fender. When a stranger entered, it flew to the top of a door, where it perched every night. The window was frequently opened to admit air, but the robin never offered to go away. As the spring advanced, and the weather became fine, it flew away every morning, and returned every evening, till the time of incubation arrived, and it then flew away altogether. At the next fall of the year it again asked for admittance, and behaved exactly in the same manner as before. It did this a third time, but when it flew away the ensuing spring, it was never seen again." Robins have been known to build their nests in queer places. Mrs. Bowdich tells of one which attached its nest to the Bible of the parish church of Hampton, Warwickshire, and of others which built theirs on the reading desk of a church in Wiltshire and deposited six eggs in it.

The Intelligence of the Robin. The Robin is an intelligent little bird and some pretty stories are told of its sagacity. Mrs. Bowdich mentions a gardener who was in the service of a friend of hers, who having made a pet of a robin, was one day much struck with the uneasiness of his little friend, and concluding that he wanted assistance followed him to his nest, which occupied a flower pot, when he discovered that a snake had coiled itself round the little home. Happily the gardener was in time to save the birds though at the snake's expense. In "The Gardener's Chronicle" there is a story, quoted by Mrs. Bowdich, of a robin which having been caught young and kept with a nightingale, learned the nightingale's song so perfectly as to be indistinguishable in performance.

The Titmouse. There are several varieties of the Titmouse; the Blue Titmouse, the Great Titmouse, and the Long-tailed Titmouse are some of these. The Blue Titmouse, sometimes called a Tomtit, is a plucky little bird and resists capture with such vigour that according to the Rev. J. G. Wood it has become known to rustic boys by the name of "Billybiter." "The angry hiss of the female," says Mr. Wood, "has frequently caused an intruding hand to be rapidly withdrawn, for the sound is so exceedingly like the hiss of an irritated snake, and the little beak is so sharp, that few have the courage to proceed with their investigations. A pair of these birds built their nest in the coping of the Great Western Railway, at the Shrivenham station, not two feet from the fiery and noisy engines, which were constantly passing. The men respected the courage of the little birds, and the whole brood was hatched, and suffered to fly at liberty."

The Great Titmouse is found in various parts of Europe. According to Mrs. Bowdich it is sufficiently pliable to roll itself up in a ball, and is strong enough to crack a hazel nut. She says, "It will plant itself at the door of a hive, and tap loudly on the edge; which signal is answered by a sentinel bee who is immediately snapped up, taken to the bough of a tree where he is beaten to death, and then loses his head and thorax; the rest of him being unworthy of the appetite of his captor." The Long-tailed Titmouse is famous for the beauty, security and warmth of its nest.

The Golden Oriole. The Golden Oriole deserves mention if only for its beautiful name; it has, however, other claims to attention. It is found in Europe and Australia and visits England occasionally during the summer, but is not found in America. The male is a very handsome bird of a golden yellow colour, with wings and tail of black, the feathers of the latter ending in yellow. It lives on fruit and berries, and, failing these, insects, and inhabits thickets and wooded spots adjacent to orchards, upon which it commits serious depredations.

The Shrike. There are several species of Shrikes, the Thick-headed Shrike, the Great Shrike, and the Red-backed Shrike being among these. The Great Shrike belongs to both Europe and America. In appearance it resembles the Mocking Bird for which it is sometimes mistaken. It preys upon mice, frogs, birds, grasshoppers and large insects, killing and then impaling them upon thorns until such time as it chooses to eat them. Its rapacity has earned for it the name of "the Butcher Bird." According to Mr. Bell these birds are kept tame in the houses in Russia. One in his possession was furnished with a sharply pointed stick for a perch, on the end of which it spitted any bird or animal it caught. The Shrike believes in a well filled larder, and does not proceed to eat his game until he has a good stock. He is also known as the "Nine-killer" in America, from his supposed preference for spitting that number at a forage.

The Jay. We now come to the family of the Corvidæ, the crow family, which includes the Jays, the Magpies and the Choughs. The Common Jay is indigenous in England where it secludes itself in woody fastnesses, rarely exposing itself in open country. It is a handsome bird about thirteen inches long, with beautiful blue markings on its wings, but is so shy that it is difficult to get a sight of it when at liberty. Taken young it may be easily tamed, when it becomes an amusing, if mischievous pet. It has considerable powers of mimicry and can imitate the common sounds it hears with wonderful exactness. The bleat of the lamb, the mew of the cat, the neigh of the horse and the cries of other birds give exercise to this faculty, and Bewick says: "We have heard one imitate the sound made by the action of a saw, so exactly, that though it was on a Sunday, we could hardly be persuaded that the person who kept it had not a carpenter at work in the house." Like many other birds it becomes bold in the care and protection of its young. Knapp in his "Journals of a Naturalist" says:

"This bird is always extremely timid, when its own interest or safety is solely concerned; but no sooner does its hungry brood clamour for supply, than it loses all its wary character, and becomes a bold and impudent thief. At this period it will visit our gardens, which it rarely approaches at other times, plunder them of every raspberry, cherry, or bean, that it can obtain, and will not cease from rapine as long as any of the brood or the crop remains. We see all the nestlings approach, and, settling near some meditated scene of plunder, quietly await a summons to commence. A parent bird from some tree, surveys the ground, then descends upon the cherry, or into the rows, immediately announces a discovery, by a low but particular call, and all the family flock into the banquet, which having finished by repeated visits, the old birds return to the woods, with all their chattering children, and become the same wild, cautious creatures they were before."

The Blue Jay. Wilson gives the following description of the Blue Jay: "This elegant bird, peculiar to North America, is distinguished as a kind of beau among the feathered tenants of the woods, by the brilliancy of his dress; and like most other coxcombs, makes himself still more conspicuous by his loquacity, and the oddness of his tones and gestures. Of all birds he is the most bitter enemy to the owl. No sooner has he discovered the retreat of one of these, than he calls the whole feathered fraternity to his assistance, who surround the glimmering recluse, and attack him from all sides, raising such a shout as may be heard on a still day more than half a mile off. The owl at length, forced to betake himself to flight, is followed by his whole train of persecutors, until driven beyond the boundaries of their jurisdiction. But the blue jay himself is not guiltless of similar depredations as the owl and becomes in his turn the very tyrant he detested, and he is sometimes attacked with such spirit as to be under the necessity of making a speedy retreat. The blue jay is not only bold and vociferous, but possesses a considerable talent for mimicry, and seems to enjoy great satisfaction in mocking and teasing other birds, particularly the little hawk, imitating his cry whenever he sees him, and squeaking out as if caught; this soon brings a number of his own tribe around him, who all join in the frolic, darting about the hawk, and feigning the cries of a bird sorely wounded, and already in the clutches of its devourer; while others lie concealed in bushes, ready to second their associates in the attack. But this ludicrous farce often terminates tragically. The hawk, singling out one of the most insolent and provoking, swoops upon him in an unguarded moment, and offers him up a sacrifice to his hunger and resentment. In an instant the tune is changed, all their buffoonery vanishes, and loud and incessant screams proclaim their disaster. Whenever the jay has had the advantage of education from man, he has not only shown himself an apt scholar, but his suavity of manners seems equalled only by his art and contrivances, though it must be confessed that his itch for thieving keeps pace with all his other acquirements."

The Magpie. The Magpie is an ancient bird and is mentioned by Plutarch and other early writers. It is indigenous in England and shows great industry and ingenuity in the construction of its nest, which it lines with mud plaster and covers with thorns, building upon high trees and in secluded spots. It feeds upon both animal and vegetable food, attacking birds, young ducks and chickens, as well as mice and even rats, and regaling itself on both fruit and grain. It attains to a length of about eighteen inches and is a handsome bird, though captivity does not improve its appearance.

The Magpie's Mischief. The mischievous habits of the magpie have won for it the name of "the Monkey of the Birds," the Raven as Mr. Wood puts it being "the ornithological baboon." Its mischief is displayed in many ways; in the wanton destruction of articles and in their crafty secretion, as well as in the thievish appropriation of edible dainties. Mr. Wood tells of a Wiltshire magpie which "found a malicious enjoyment in pecking the unprotected ankles of little boys not yet arrived at manly habiliments, and was such a terror to the female servants that they were forced to pass his lurking-place armed with a broom. One of the servants having neglected this precaution, was actually found sitting down on the stones to protect her ankles, the magpie triumphantly pacing round her, until aid was brought, and the bird driven away." Mrs. Bowdich quotes the following from Mr. Ranson: "A magpie, kept by a branch of our family, was noted for his powers of imitation. He could whistle tunes, imitate hens and ducks, and speak very plainly. Seated upon a toll-bar gate, he would shout 'Gate, ahoy!' so distinctly, as to draw out the keeper, who was generally saluted by a loud laugh when he answered the call. When the keeper's wife was making pastry, he would practise the same manœuvre, and if the trick were not detected, and the woman rushed out to open the gate, the magpie darted into the house, and speedily made his exit with his bill full of paste; and he, in great glee, would chatter about it for some time afterwards. He would perch upon the backs of chairs, say he was hungry, or inform the juniors of the family it was time to go to school. He was allowed to run about, but was never out of mischief, and had a constant propensity to pilfer and hide small articles." Of the serious consequences sometimes attending this habit of secreting things, the following story from Lady Morgan's "Italy" is a painful illustration.—"A noble lady of Florence, resided in a house which stands still opposite the lofty Doric column which was raised to commemorate the defeat of Pietro Strozzi, and the taking of Sienna, by the tyrannic conqueror of both. Cosmo, the First, lost a valuable pearl necklace, and one of her waiting-women, (a very young girl) was accused of the theft. Having solemnly denied the fact, she was put to the torture, which was then a plaisir at Florence. Unable to support its terrible infliction, she acknowledged that 'she was guilty,' and, without further trial, was hung. Shortly after, Florence was visited by a tremendous storm; a thunder-bolt fell on the figure of Justice, and split the scales, one of which fell to the earth, and with it fell the ruins of a magpie's nest, containing the pearl necklace. Those scales are still the haunts of birds, and I never saw them hovering round them, without thinking of those 'good old times,' when innocent women could be first tortured, and then hung on suspicion."

The Raven. The Raven is a large bird, indeed the largest of the British crows, attaining to a length of two feet two inches, and having a stretch of wing of four feet eight inches, in width. It is an historic bird, being mentioned by Pliny who records that a tame one kept in the Temple of Castor, was taught by a tailor whom it used to visit, to pronounce the name of the Emperor Tiberius and of the other members of the Royal family. The fame of the bird brought the tailor riches, but excited the jealousy of his neighbours, one of whom killed the bird. The record states that the offender was punished and the bird accorded a magnificent funeral. The Raven builds its nest in high trees and among inaccessible and precipitous rocks, especially in the Hebrides, and lives on carrion, not disdaining fruit and grain. Like many other birds who afterwards show little concern for their young the Raven is assiduous in its attentions during the period of incubation. The following is from White's "Natural History of Selborne":

"In the centre of a grove near Selborne, there stood an oak, which though shapely and tall on the whole, bulged out into a large excrescence near the middle of the stem. On the tree a pair of ravens had fixed their residence for such a series of years, that the oak was distinguished by the name of the 'raven tree,' Many were the attempts of the neighbouring youths to get at this eyrie; the difficulty whetted their inclinations, and each was ambitious of surmounting the arduous task; but, when they arrived at the swelling, it jutted out so much in their way, and was so far beyond their grasp, that the boldest lads were deterred, and acknowledged the undertaking to be too hazardous. Thus the ravens continued to build nest after nest, in perfect security, till the fatal day arrived on which the wood was to be levelled. This was in the month of February, when these birds usually sit. The saw was applied to the trunk, the wedges were inserted in the opening, the woods echoed to the heavy blows of the beetle or mallet, the tree nodded to its fall; but the dam persisted to sit. At last, when it gave way, the bird was flung from her nest; and though her maternal affection deserved a better fate, was whipped down by the twigs, which brought her dead to the ground." Ravens are said to pair for life and to live for a hundred years.

Unnatural Parents. Though models of conjugal fidelity, Ravens are said to be very unnatural parents, often showing not only indifference but cruelty to their young. Mr. Morris in his "Anecdotes of Natural History" tells an interesting story of a family of ravens whose mother came to an untimely death. "For a time the surviving parent hovered about the nest, uttering loud and menacing croakings whenever anybody approached. At length, however, he disappeared, and absented himself for two or three days, and then returned with another mate, when a strange scene occurred. The poor half-starved nestlings were attacked without mercy by the step-mother, who, after severely wounding, precipitated them from the nest; two, however, were found at the foot of the tree with signs of life, and with great care and attention reared at the rectory, about half a mile distant, and after being slightly pinioned, were allowed their liberty; but they seldom quitted the lawn or offices, roosting in a tree in the shrubbery. Here, however, they were soon discovered by their unnatural parents, who for a long time used to come at early dawn and pounce upon them with fierce cries." In this case it was the step-mother and not the mother that treated the young ravens so unkindly, and the father may be charitably credited with acting under the influence of his second wife. That the Raven drives its young out of its nest as soon as they are able to provide for themselves is true, but why they should pursue them after they have become independent is not clear. This habit of the ravens, as Mr. Morris points out, may be referred to in the following quotations: "He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry" (Psalm CXLVII. 9). "Who provideth for the raven his food? when his young ones cry unto God, they wander for lack of meat" (Job XXXVIII. 41).

The Tame Raven. The Raven may be easily tamed, and in private life is always an amusement, if sometimes an annoyance. Like all birds which are capable of imitating sounds and which learn words and phrases it will often "speak its lines," with startling appropriateness as to time and place. Captain Brown tells a good story of a Raven which belonged to a gentleman who resided on the borders of the New Forest in Hampshire. On one occasion a traveller who was passing through the forest was startled by the frequent repetition of the words: "Fair play, gentlemen! fair play! for God's sake, gentlemen, fair play!" and upon tracing the source of the sound discovered the tame raven defending himself from the attacks of two of his own species. It is needless to say that the traveller rescued the "gentleman" from the two "ruffians" who molested him. Captain Brown also tells of a tame raven who was an expert rat-catcher and whose method was to place a meat bone in front of a rat hole and to stand on a ledge above the hole, pouncing on the rat as soon as he emerged from his retreat. In this way he captured as many as six in a fore-noon.

The Raven and the Dog. Dr. Stanley tells the following story of a Raven and a Dog: "A strong attachment was once formed between a raven and a large otter-dog. The raven had been taken when young, and reared in a stable-yard, where the dog was kept chained up. A friendship soon commenced, which, increasing from little to more, in time ripened into a most extraordinary degree of intimacy. At first the bird was satisfied with hopping about in the vicinity of the kennel, and occasionally pecking a hasty morsel from the dog's feeding-pan when the latter had finished his meal. Finding, however, no interruption on the part of his friend, the raven soon became a constant attendant at meal times, and, taking up his position on the edge of the dish, acted the part of a regular guest and partaker of the dog's dinner, which consisted usually of meal and milk, with occasional scraps of offal meat, a piece of which the bird would often snatch up, almost from the very mouth of the dog, and hasten beyond the reach of his chain, as if to tantalise his four-footed friend; and then hopping towards him, would play about, and hang it close to his nose; and then as speedily, at the moment the dog was preparing to snap it up, would dart off beyond the reach of the chain. At other times he would hide the piece of meat under a stone, and then coming back, with a cunning look, would perch upon the dog's head. It was observed, however, that he always ended his pranks by either sharing or giving up the whole piece to his friend the dog. By some accident the raven had fallen into a tub of water, and, either weakened by struggling, or unable to get out owing to its feathers being soaked with water, it was nearly drowned. The dog (whether the same dog or another does not appear), chained at a short distance, saw the poor bird's danger, and dragging his heavy kennel towards it, reached his head over the side of the tub, and taking the drowning raven up in his mouth, laid him gently on the ground, when he soon recovered."

The Rook. The Rook which is often confused with the Carrion Crow is found in many parts of Europe and is abundant in England, where it is common to see groups of trees near gentlemen's houses given up to their occupancy. Here they build their nests, rear their young, keep up an incessant cawing, quarrel and make peace as do all other large communities. If a new-comer appears among them, he is generally received in a very rough manner. At Newcastle, a pair of rooks attempted to introduce themselves into a rookery, but were so rudely treated, that, in high dudgeon, they ascended to the steeple of one of the public buildings, and built their nest on the vane. Here they lived for several successive seasons, turning about with every change of wind, and regardless of the busy scene in the town beneath. The rook is gregarious, in which particular it differs from the Carrion Crow which lives in pairs. Further differences are found in the feathering of the head and neck of these birds, that of the crow being much more completely covered than that of the rook. The croak of the crow is, moreover, much harsher than the caw of the rook. Like most, if not all other birds and animals, the rook serves a useful purpose in nature, in checking the multiplication of the worms and insects which prey upon the crops; and doubtless were he able to argue the question he would contend that helping the farmer to produce his harvest he has a right to a share in it. It is only when the rook in his turn gets too numerous that he needs a similar check.

The Carrion Crow. The Carrion Crow resembles the raven in appearance, but is about one third smaller in size. It lives in pairs and is said to be a model of conjugal fidelity and parental care. Omnivorous in habit it appropriates all kinds of food: insects, grain, eggs, fruit, nuts, mice, ducklings and chickens, as well as such dead meat as may offer opportunitty. Captain Brown quoting from a Scotch newspaper tells of a crow which made an attempt to carry off one of a brood of fourteen chickens, but which on being disturbed, dropped its prey and made its escape, returning some time after with thirteen other crows and carrying off the whole brood.

The Jackdaw. The Jackdaw, measures about fourteen inches, and is thus the smallest of the birds of its kind. It builds in old ruins, church towers, and rocky eminences, in which particular it differs from the rooks and the crows, who select the topmost branches of trees for this purpose. Like its near relatives with whom we have been dealing, it is thievish and secretive in its habits, showing a preference, in its appropriations, for bright objects such as silver spoons and gold rings. These habits and their terrible consequences have been immortalized by the history and fate of the "Jackdaw of Rheims."

The Chough. The Chough frequents the western sea coasts of England, the north, south, and west of Ireland and the Isle of Man, and the borders of the snow line or Alpine ranges on the continent of Europe. It nests in the cavities of high cliffs and attains a length of seventeen inches; its beak and legs are of a brilliant red. When tamed it shows the same qualities of curiosity and secretiveness which characterise the other birds of its kind.

The Bird of Paradise. The Bird of Paradise is one of the most beautiful of living birds. Mr. Wallace thus describes the Paradisea apoda which is the largest species known: "The body, wings, and tail are of a rich coffee brown, which deepens on the breast to a blackish-violet or purple brown. The whole top of the head and neck is of an exceedingly delicate straw-yellow, the feathers being short and close set, so as to resemble plush or velvet; the lower part of the throat up to the eye is clothed with scaly feathers of an emerald green colour, and with a rich metallic gloss, and velvety plumes of a still deeper green, extend in a band across the forehead and chin as far as the eye, which is bright yellow. The beak is pale lead blue, and the feet which are rather large and very strong and well formed, are a pale ashy pink. The two middle feathers of the tail have no webs, except a very small one at the base and at the extreme tip, forming wire-like cirri, which spread out in an elegant double curve, and vary from twenty-four to thirty-four inches long. From each side of the body beneath the wings, springs a dense tuft of long and delicate plumes, sometimes two feet in length, of the most intense golden orange colour, and very glossy, but changing towards the tips into a pale brown. This tuft of plumage can be elevated and spread out at pleasure so as almost to conceal the body of the bird. These splendid ornaments are entirely confined to the male sex; the female is a very plain and ordinary looking bird. The male is generally seventeen or eighteen inches from the beak to the tip of the tail."

Hunting the Bird of Paradise. In catching the Bird of Paradise, the natives take advantage of the apparent vanity of their victims. "In May when they are in full plumage," says Mr. Wallace, "the males assemble early in the morning to exhibit themselves in a most singular manner. This habit enables the natives to obtain specimens with comparative ease. As soon as they find that the birds have fixed upon a tree upon which to assemble, they build a little shelter of palm leaves in a convenient place among the branches, and the hunter ensconces himself in it before daylight, armed with his bow and a number of arrows terminating in a round nob. A boy waits at the foot of the tree, and when the birds come at sunrise, and a sufficient number have assembled, and have begun to dance, the hunter shoots with his blunt arrow so strongly as to stun the bird, which drops down, and is secured and killed by the boy, without its plumage being injured by a drop of blood. The rest take no notice, and fall one after another till some of them take the alarm." The Bird of Paradise is found in New Guinea and the Papuan Islands.

The Tanagers. Following Mr. Wallace's order we come now to the second class of the perching birds, the Tanagroid perchers, with the more important species of which we will now proceed to deal.

The Tanager. Tanagers are found in America and the West Indian Islands. Wilson, the American ornithologist, describing the scarlet Tanager, says: "Among all other birds that inhabit our woods, there is none that strikes the eye of the stranger or even a native with so much brilliancy as this. Seen among the green leaves, with the light falling strongly on his plumage, he really appears beautiful. If he has little melody in his notes to charm us, he has nothing in them to disgust. His manners are modest, easy and inoffensive; he commits no depredations on the property of the husbandman, but rather benefits him by the daily destruction in spring of many noxious insects; and when winter approaches he is no plundering dependant, but seeks in a distant country for that sustenance which the severity of the season denies to his industry in this. He is a striking ornament to our rural scenery and none of the meanest of our rural songsters." Its body is scarlet and its wings and tail are black. One species of the Tanager is known as the Organist Tanager from the richness of its tones.

The Swallow. Though only a summer friend the swallow is among the most popular of birds in England. It arrives in April and is always sure of a hearty welcome, and when it leaves in September for its long journey across the sea no one would withhold from it a "God speed". The swallow builds under the eaves of houses, always selecting dry and sheltered spots. Its flight is very rapid, and is a pretty sight to watch as it skims over the surface of the water, sometimes striking it with its wings as it darts hither and thither, snapping at the flies and insects which come within its reach. The marvellous flights of these birds when they migrate are among the many wonderful things of nature. Humboldt states that he saw a swallow alight on the rigging of his vessel when it was one hundred and twenty miles from land. How such tiny creatures can sustain such extended flights it is difficult to understand.

Swallows in Council. Swallows seem to understand the principle of co-operation and what the family is unable to do for itself the community seems always ready to undertake for it. Captain Brown tells of a pair of swallows who returning to their last year's nest found it occupied by a robust English sparrow. The sparrow declined to give up the nest and the swallows were not strong enough to eject it, whereupon a council was called, as a result of which a large army of swallows proceeded to close up the entrance to the nest with clay, "leaving the sparrow to perish in the garrison it had so gallantly defended." This happened at Strathendry, Bleachfield, in Fifeshire, on the banks of the Leven, and was witnessed by Mr. Gavan Inglis. But not only do the swallows co-operate for the purposes of war; Mr. Inglis was a witness of another effort of combination. It happened that a pair of swallows had built a nest in the corner of one of his windows, in which they had hatched five offspring. The parent birds fell victims to a sportsman's gun and Mr. Inglis contemplated an attempt to rear the family himself. This, however, proved unnecessary. In a very short time a number of swallows came and inspected the bereaved dwelling, apparently noting the condition of the house as well as the brood. A supply of food was immediately brought, and the next morning the kindly offices were renewed and thenceforward continued until the young were able to provide for themselves. Remarkable as these incidents are they are not singular, for both have been known to occur more than once.

The House Martin. The House Martin is characterized by a white spot above his tail which adds to the prettiness of his appearance in flight. The summer residence of this agreeable bird is universally among the habitations of man, who, having no interest in its destruction, and deriving considerable advantage as well as amusement from its company, is generally its friend and protector.

The Martin inhabits America as well as Europe, and is a particular favourite wherever it takes up his abode. "I never knew but one man," says Wilson, "who disliked the Martins, and would not permit them to settle about his house: this was a penurious, close-fisted German, who hated them, because, as he said, 'they eat his peas.' I told him he certainly must be mistaken, as I never knew an instance of Martins eating peas; but he replied with coolness, 'that he had many times seen them himself blaying near the hive, and going schnip schnap,' by which I understood that it was his bees that were the sufferers; and the charge could not be denied."

The Sand Martin. The Sand Martin is the smallest of the British swallows and it is the first to arrive. It bores horizontal holes two or three feet deep into the sides of sand-pits, at the end of which it builds its nest of grass and feathers.

The Chaffinch. The Goldfinch. The Greenfinch. The Finches are beautiful and interesting birds. The Chaffinch is famous for the vivacity of its song and the beauty of its nest. "The forks of a thorn, or wild crab tree," says Mr. Wood, "are favourite places for the nest, which is composed of mosses, hair, wool and feathers, covered on the exterior with lichens and mosses so exactly resembling the bough on which the nest is placed that the eye is often deceived by its appearance." The Goldfinch is a favourite pet, and is capable of being trained to perform tricks. It has been called the Thistlefinch from its use of the down of the thistle in the construction of its nest. It is bright of appearance, cheery of song, and affectionate of disposition. The Greenfinch has a coat of rich olive green, and a waistcoat of greyish-yellow.

The Linnet. The Linnet is a homely looking little brown bird with a sweet melodious voice. It frequents commons and waste lands, where it builds its nest under the cover of friendly furze bushes, or nearer the habitations of man, in thick-set hedges. The Linnet is the natural laureate of the English cottage home.

The Canary. The Canary, as its name implies, comes from the Canary Islands, but it has been so crossed in breeding that it differs very considerably from its original ancestors. Buffon says:—"If the nightingale is the chauntress of the woods, the canary is the musician of the chamber; the first owes all to nature, the second something to art. With less strength of organ, less compass of voice, and less variety of note, the canary has a better ear, greater facility of imitation, and a more retentive memory; and as the difference of genius, especially among the lower animals, depends in a great measure on the perfection of their senses, the canary, whose organ of hearing is more susceptible of receiving foreign impressions, becomes more social, tame, and familiar; is capable of gratitude and even attachment; its caresses are endearing, its little humours innocent, and its anger neither hurts nor offends. Its education is easy; we hear it with pleasure, because we are able to instruct it. It leaves the melody of its own natural note, to listen to the melody of our voices and instruments. It applauds, it accompanies us, and repays the pleasure it receives with interest; while the nightingale, more proud of its talent, seems desirous of preserving it in all its purity, at least it appears to attach very little value to ours and it is with great difficulty it can be taught any of our airs. The canary can speak and whistle; the nightingale despises our words, as well as our airs, and never fails to return to its own wild-wood notes. Its pipe is a masterpiece of nature, which human art can neither alter nor improve; while that of the canary is a model of more pliant materials, which we can mould at pleasure; and therefore it contributes in a much greater degree to the comforts of society. It sings at all seasons, cheers us in the dullest weather, and adds to our happiness, by amusing the young, and delighting the recluse, charming the tediousness of the cloister, and gladdening the soul of the innocent and captive."

The Tame Canary. The canary is easily tamed, and has been taught to perform many little tricks, indeed groups of them have been trained to act little plays, firing cannons and driving coaches. The canary shows a humane disposition, has been known to foster the young of other birds, to make friends with other pets, even cats; to show great affection for its master and to die of grief on the loss of its mate. Dr. Darwin tells of "a canary bird which always fainted away when its cage was cleaned. Having desired to see the experiment," says Dr. Darwin, "the cage was taken from the ceiling, and the bottom drawn out. The bird began to tremble, and turned quite white about the root of the bill; he then opened his mouth as if for breath, and respired quickly; stood up straighter on his perch, hung his wing, spread his tail, closed his eyes, and appeared quite stiff for half an hour, till at length, with trembling and deep respirations, he came gradually to himself."

The Crossbill. The Crossbill must be mentioned for the sake of the peculiarity indicated by its name. The points of the beak instead of being straight and meeting in a common point, "curve to the right and left and always in opposite directions." They therefore cross each other and present a unique appearance. It is found in the North of Europe, and in the great pine forests of Germany.

The Bunting. There are several kinds of Bunting; the English Bunting common to wayside hedges, and familiar from its habit of flitting in front of the traveller, and the Snow Bunting of the northern regions, which turns white on the approach of snow.

The Starlings. We come now to the third division of the Passeres or perching birds, to which Mr. Wallace attaches the name of the starlings. "The starlings or Sturnidæ," says Dr. Percival Wright, "are a well marked old-world group. No species of the family are found in Australia."

The Common Starling. The Common Starling is a bird of passage, arriving in England about the beginning of March and leaving some time in October. Knapp says:—"There is something singularly curious and mysterious in the conduct of these birds previously to their nightly retirement, by the variety and intricacy of the evolutions they execute at that time. They will form themselves, perhaps, into a triangle, then shoot into a long, pear-shaped figure, expand like a sheet, wheel into a ball, as Pliny observes, each individual striving to get into the centre, etc., with a promptitude more like parade movements than the actions of birds. As the breeding season advances, these prodigious flights divide, and finally separate into pairs, and form their summer settlements." The Starling is a handsome bird and usually nests in old buildings, though it has a preference for a dove-cote if it can gain admission. It is a peaceable bird and for all its military evolutions does not seem to war with other species. Its domestic character is also good.

The Weaver Bird. The Weaver birds which are included in this division, are a very interesting species. They belong to Africa, where they hang their nests upon trees, those of the sociable weaver birds giving the trees the appearance of partially thatched wall-less structures. Le Vaillant thus describes his experience of the sociable weaver bird: he says:—"I observed, on the way, a tree with an enormous nest of these birds, to which I have given the appellation of republicans; and as soon as I arrived at my camp, I dispatched a few men with a wagon to bring it to me, that I might open the hive and examine its structure in its minutest parts. When it arrived, I cut it to pieces with a hatchet and saw that the chief portion of the structure consisted of a mass of Buckmans grass, without any mixture, but so compactly and firmly basketed together, as to be impenetrable to the rain. This is the commencement of the structure; and each bird builds its particular nest under this canopy, the upper surface remaining void without, however, being useless; for, as it has a projecting rim and is a little inclined, it serves to let the rain water run off and preserve each little dwelling from the rain. Figure to yourself a huge, irregular, sloping roof, all the eaves of which are completely covered with nests crowded one against another, and you will have a tolerably accurate idea of these singular edifices. Each individual nest is three or four inches in diameter, which is sufficient for the bird. But as they are all in contact with one another around the eaves, they appear to the eye to form one building and are distinguishable from each other only by a little external aperture which serves as an entrance to the nest; and even this is sometimes common to three different nests, one of which is situated at the bottom and the other two at the sides." One of these structures examined by Patterson contained three hundred and twenty inhabited cells.

The Lark. The skylark is common all over Europe and is an especial favourite in the British Isles, It builds its nest on the ground among growing corn or high grass, and shows especial care for its young. Its song is perhaps the most joyous and inspiriting of those of English birds. Captain Brown quotes the following interesting particulars of its song from a communication made by Mr. J. Main to the "Magazine of Natural History:" "His joyous matins and heavenward flight have been aptly compared to hymns and acts of adoration and praise. No bird sings with more method: there is an overture performed vivace crescendo, while the singer ascends; when at the full height, the song becomes moderato, and distinctly divided into short passages, each repeated three or four times over, like a fantasia, in the same key and time. If there be any wind, he rises perpendicularly by bounds, and afterwards poises himself with breast opposed to it. If calm, he ascends in spiral circles; in horizontal circles during the principal part of his song, and zigzagly downwards during the performance of the finale. Sometimes, after descending about half way, he ceases to sing, and drops with the velocity of an arrow to the ground. Those acquainted with the song of the skylark can tell without looking at them whether the birds be ascending or stationary in the air, or on their descent; so different is the style of the song in each case. In the first, there is an expression of ardent impatience; in the second, an andante composure, in which rests of a bar at a time frequently occur; and in the last, a graduated sinking of the strains."

The Maternal Instinct of the Lark. Mrs. Bowdich quoting from "The Naturalist" gives the following pretty story of the maternal instinct of the Lark:—"The other day, some mowers shaved off the upper part of the nest of a skylark, without injuring the female, who was sitting on her young: still she did not fly away; and the mowers levelled the grass all round her, without her taking any notice of their proceedings. The son of the owner of the crop witnessed this, and, about an hour afterwards, went to see if she were safe; when, to his great surprise, he found that she had actually constructed a dome of dry grass over the nest during the interval, leaving an aperture on one side for ingress and egress; thus endeavouring to secure a continuance of the shelter previously supplied by the long grass." Buffon tells a remarkable story of the self-sacrifice of a young lark who took upon itself the duties of a foster mother. He says:—"A young hen bird was brought to me in the month of May, which was not able to feed without assistance. I caused her to be educated, and she was hardly fledged when I received from another place a nest of three or four unfledged skylarks. She took a strong liking to these new-comers, which were scarcely younger than herself; she tended them night and day, cherished them beneath her wings, and fed them with her bill. Nothing could interrupt her tender offices. If the young ones were torn from her, she flew to them as soon as she was liberated, and would not think of effecting her own escape, which she might have done a hundred times. Her affection grew upon her; she neglected food and drink; she now required the same support as her adopted offspring, and expired at last consumed with maternal anxiety. None of the young ones survived her. They died one after another; so essential were her cares, which were equally tender and judicious."

The Lark and the Hawk. The Lark when pursued by the Hawk has been known to seek refuge under the protection of man, as the following quoted by Captain Brown from Bell's "Weekly Messenger" will show. "On Wednesday, the 6th of October, 1805, as a gentleman was sitting on the rocks at the end of Collercot's sands, near Tynemouth, Northumberland, dressing himself after bathing, he perceived a hawk in the air, in close pursuit of, and nearly within reach of a lark. To save the little fugitive, he shouted and clapped his hands, when immediately the lark descended, and alighted on his knee, nor did it offer to leave him, when taken into the hand, but seemed confident of that protection, which it found. The hawk sailed about for some time. The gentleman, after taking the lark nearly to Tynemouth, restored it to its former liberty."

The Wagtails and Pipits. The Wagtails, of which family the Pied Wagtail is the most familiar, derives its name from its habit of wagging its tail. As Mr. Wood says, "it settles on the ground and wags its tail; it runs a few paces and wags its tail again; pecks an insect, and again its tail vibrates." It frequents sandbanks and the margins of rivers where it finds its food. It is found in England throughout the year, migrating to the southern counties in the early winter. The Pipits, of which "The Meadow Pipit" and the Tree Pipit are the best known varieties, are found all over the British Isles as well as in many parts of Europe.

The Ant-Eaters. The fourth division of the perching birds designated by Mr. Wallace, the Ant-Eaters, includes a large number of American varieties, which space forbids us even to enumerate. One or two must suffice.

The King Bird. The King Bird or Tyrant Fly-catcher of North America is small, but of a fearless disposition, attacking hawks, crows, and other larger birds, and generally having the best of the battle. The upper part of its body is black and the lower of a delicate white. Its song is a shrill twittering "resembling the jingling of a bunch of keys." It belongs to the family of the Tyrant Shrikes or Tyrannidæ. It is during the time of incubation that it shows so much ferocity. Wilson says, "I have seen the red-headed woodpecker while clinging on a rail of the fence, amuse himself with the violence of the king bird, and play 'bo-peep' with him round the rail, while the latter, highly irritated, made every attempt, as he swept from side to side, to strike him, but in vain. All his turbulence subsides as soon as his young are able to shift for themselves, and he is then as mild and peaceable as any other bird."

The Chatterers. The Chatterers, or Cotingidæ include among them, the Cock of the Rock, one of the most beautiful of South-American birds. Resembling a pigeon in size, its head is sufficiently like that of the farm-yard cock to account for its name, which is also made to indicate the nature of its haunts. Its coat is a warm saffron yellow and its crest resembles a fan. Sir Robert Schomburgh says: "While traversing the Kikiritze mountains in Guiana, we saw a number of that most beautiful bird, the cock-of-the-rock, or Rock Manakin (rupicola elegans), and I had an opportunity of witnessing an exhibition of some of its very singular antics, of which I had heard stories from the Indians, but had hitherto disbelieved them. Hearing the twittering noise so peculiar to the Rupicola, I cautiously stole near, with two of my guides, towards a spot secluded from the path from four to five feet in diameter, and which appeared to have been cleared of every blade of grass, and smoothed as by human hands. There we saw a cock-of-the-rock, capering to the apparent delight of several others, now spreading its wings, throwing up its head, or opening its tail like a fan; now strutting about, and scratching the ground, all accompanied by a hopping gait, until tired, when it gabbled some kind of note, and another relieved it. Thus three of them successively took the field, and then with self-approbation withdrew to rest on one of the low branches near the scene of action. We had counted ten cocks and two hens of the party, when the crackling of some wood, on which I had unfortunately placed my foot, alarmed and dispersed this dancing party." The Bell Bird of Brazil; the Umbrella Bird of the Amazons, the Broadbills, the Plant cutters, the Oven bird, and the Ant-Thrushes are all included in this group.

The Lyre Bird. The Lyre Bird, which according to the classification we are following, with the scrub bird, forms the fifth group of the perching birds, belongs to Australia. The Lyre Bird has been so often depicted in illustrations that its form is familiar to most people. The tail of the male bird which is composed of three different kinds of feathers so beautifully resembles the Lyre that there could be no hesitation in giving the bird its name. Since its discovery this bird has been so hunted as to considerably reduce its numbers, and the tail feathers which at one time could be purchased at a low price, have become rare and costly.

ORDER II.
Climbers and Gapers. This order includes some widely different species and is made up of Scansores, Climbers and Fissirostres, Gapers. A few of the better known species are all that we can mention.

The Woodpecker. The green Woodpecker is the variety best known in England, where it inhabits the woods and feeds upon the insects it finds in the bark of trees. Audubon writing of the "Ivory-billed" variety says:—"The birds pay great regard to the particular situation of the tree, and the inclination of its trunk; first, because they prefer retirement, and again, because they are anxious to secure the aperture against the access of water during beating rains. To prevent such a calamity the hole is generally dug immediately under the junction of a large branch with the trunk. It is first bored horizontally for a few inches, then directly downwards, and not in a spiral manner as some people have imagined. According to circumstances, this cavity is more or less deep, being sometimes more than ten inches, whilst at other times it reaches three feet downwards into the core of the tree. The average diameter of the different nests which I have examined was about seven inches within, although the entrance, which is perfectly round, is only just large enough to admit the bird." Wilson declares that during the excavation of its nest, which occupies several days, the woodpecker will often carry the chips and strew them at a distance to divert suspicion. Audubon describing the Red-headed Woodpecker says:—"With the exception of the mocking bird, I know no species so gay and frolicsome. Their whole life is one of pleasure."

The Wryneck. This bird which was known to the Greeks, and described by Aristotle, forms with its allied species a connecting link between the Woodpecker and the Cuckoo. It feeds on caterpillars and insects which it catches with its long sticky tongue, with such rapidity of movement that the eye cannot follow it.

The Cuckoo. The Cuckoo is always welcomed in England as the harbinger of Spring. Its cry is one of the most easily distinguished of bird songs, and is the nearest approach to a definite musical interval produced by any bird. The habit of the cuckoo of laying its eggs in the nests of other birds, has given rise to much speculation, ancient and modern, and now, though the fact remains, a sufficiently satisfactory reason seems as remote as ever. The nest of the Hedge-sparrow seems to be the one most often selected, though that of the wagtail is sometimes chosen. The consequences to the young of the native bird, are somewhat serious as the following will show.

The Cuckoo and the Hedge-Sparrow. Dr. Jenner, the discoverer of vaccination says:—"On the 18th of June, 1787, I examined the nest of a hedge-sparrow (Accentor modularis), which then contained a cuckoo and three hedge-sparrows' eggs. On inspecting it the day following, the bird had hatched; but the nest then contained only a young cuckoo and one hedge-sparrow. The nest was placed so near the extremity of a hedge, that I could distinctly see what was going forward in it; and, to my great astonishment, I saw the young cuckoo, though so lately hatched, in the act of turning out the young hedge-sparrow. The mode of accomplishing this was very curious; the little animal, with the assistance of its rump and wings, contrived to get the bird upon its back, and making a lodgment for its burthen by elevating its elbows, clambered backwards with it up the side of the nest till it reached the top, where, resting for a moment, it threw off its load with a jerk, and quite disengaged it from the nest. It remained in this situation for a short time, feeling about with the extremities of its wings, as if to be convinced whether the business was properly executed, and then dropped into the nest again. I afterwards put in an egg, and this, by a similar process, was conveyed to the edge of the nest and thrown out. These experiments I have since repeated several times, in different nests, and have always found the young cuckoo disposed to act in the same manner. "It sometimes happens that two cuckoos' eggs are deposited in the same nest, and then the young produced from one of them must inevitably perish. Two cuckoos and one hedge-sparrow were hatched in the same nest, and one hedge-sparrow's egg remained unhatched. In a few hours afterwards a contest began between the cuckoos for the possession of the nest, which continued undetermined till the next afternoon, when one of them, which was somewhat superior in size, turned out the other, together with the young hedge-sparrow and the unhatched egg. The combatants alternately appeared to have the advantage, as each carried the other several times to the top of the nest, and then sunk down again, oppressed by the weight of the burthen; till at length, after various efforts, the strongest prevailed, and was afterwards brought up by the hedge-sparrow." Jenner's experiences have been corroborated by repeated experiments since. Colonel Montague carried a hedge-sparrow's nest, so inhabited, into his house where he could watch it at leisure and where he saw the young cuckoo frequently oust the baby hedge-sparrow in the manner described. The cuckoo feeds on caterpillars, and insects. It may be tamed, but as a rule does not live long in confinement. Its note is heard from April to June.

The Cuckoo and the Thrush. That the cuckoo is scarcely an amiable bird would appear from the following incident recorded by Dr. Stanley: "A young thrush, just able to feed itself, was placed in a cage. A short time after, a young cuckoo, which could not feed itself, was placed in the same cage, and fed by the owner. At length it was observed that the thrush fed it; the cuckoo opening its mouth, and sitting on the upper perch, and making the thrush hop down to fetch its food. One day, while thus expecting its supply, a worm was put into the cage, and the thrush could not resist the temptation of eating it, upon which the cuckoo descended, attacked the thrush with fury, and literally tore out one of its eyes, and then hopped back. Although so lacerated, the poor thrush meekly took up some food, and continued to do so till the cuckoo was full grown."

The Trogons. The Trogons are among the most gorgeous of living birds; the brilliance of their plumage defying verbal description. Their main colour is "a metallic golden green, boldly contrasted with scarlet, black, and brown." "The Resplendent Trogon," says Mr. Wood, "is the most gorgeous of all this gorgeous family. Its long and gracefully curved tail is nearly three feet long, and the whole of the upper surface, and the throat, are a glowing green; the breast and under parts are bright crimson; the middle feathers of the tail black, and the outer feathers white." These birds are natives of Mexico.

The Kingfisher. The Kingfishers are a wide-spread family, being found all over the world. There are numerous varieties, of which the Common Kingfisher and the Laughing Kingfisher are all that we can notice. The Common Kingfisher is indigenous in England where it usually lives on the banks of rivers and streams, feeding upon fish and insects. It makes burrows or holes in the banks, where it lays its eggs and rears its young; fishing from the low branches of trees which overspread the water. When the fish is caught it is beaten to death against some hard substance and then swallowed whole, head foremost. The Common Kingfisher is somewhat larger than the lark, and has a beautiful metallic coat which shimmers with a very pleasing effect as it darts among the greenery of the river bank or flies along the surface of the water. The Laughing Kingfisher belongs to Australia and is so named from its peculiar cry. It is one of the largest species of its kind. Other species belong to the Moluccas and New Guinea, and a few to America.

The Hornbill. The Hornbill is famous for the size and shape of its bill, which is very large. There are several varieties, African and Indian. They live mostly on fruit, though some are said to eat reptiles. They have some very curious habits. Mr. Wallace describes the habit of the male Hornbill of shutting up the female during the period of incubation and feeding her through a small hole left open for the purpose.

The Goat-Suckers. The goat-sucker is so called from the belief long entertained that it was in the habit of sucking the teat of the goat. There are several varieties and they are remarkable for the strangeness of their cries. The Goat-sucker has sometimes been called the Night-jar from its discordant note, it is also known as the Fern Owl. Mr. Wood says:—"It may be seen at the approach of evening silently wheeling round the trees, capturing the nocturnal moths and beetles; then occasionally settling and uttering its jarring cry. When flying the bird sometimes makes its wings meet over its back, and brings them together with a smart snap. It arrives in England in the beginning of May and leaves in December. The Whip-poor-will and the Chuck-will's-widow both belong to this family."

The Whip-poor-Will. The Whip-poor-will, which is peculiar to America, is celebrated for its singular melody, which is heard in spring to issue at night from the woods and glens of all parts of the country. It is a rapid warbling repetition of the name given to the bird, and is so distinctly pronounced, as to seem like the voice of a human being. It is a solitary bird, remaining silent and sequestered during the day, but at night it often approaches a dwelling, and pours forth its song upon the door-step, or a neighbouring tree.

Chuck-Will's-Widow. This bird, also peculiar to America, is about a foot in length, resembling in colour, form, and habits, the whip-poor-will. It is a solitary bird, frequenting glens and hollows, and seldom making its appearance during the day. Its song, which is uttered, like that of the whip-poor-will, at night, is a constant repetition of the sound, chuck-will's-widow, very distinctly articulated. It is common in Georgia, and is regarded by the Creek Indians with superstitious awe. It is very seldom seen in the Middle or Eastern States; "but I recollect once," says an American writer, "to have known a whole village in New England in terror and amazement at hearing one of them singing its strange song on the edge of a swamp. The superstitious part of the inhabitants considered it a prediction of some evil that was to befall a widow of the parish; but there was a diversity of opinion as to who the hapless Chuck-will's-widow might be."

The Swift. The Swift, so called from the remarkable speed of his flight, is also known as "Jack screamer" from the shrillness of his voice. He winters in Africa and arrives in England about May, remaining until about the middle of August. He builds his nest under the eaves of houses and frequents steeples and other lofty edifices, forming his nest of grasses and feathers. The esculent swift, so called from the fact that its nests are edible, builds at the sides of almost inaccessible cliffs, a habit which renders the collection of these singular dainties very dangerous. The nests are formed of mucilaginous sea-weeds and have the appearance of isinglass. They are considered great delicacies in China, where they are found. They abound in Java. The swifts resemble the swallows in several particulars and have often been classed with them, there are, however, important differences which separate them.

The Humming Bird. There are hundreds of kinds of Humming Birds, nearly all of them natives of America, where they frequent the gardens, and sip the honey from the honeysuckle and other plants, like the hive and humble bee. The humming bird is several times larger than the latter, but flies so swiftly as almost to elude the sight. Its wings, when it is balancing over the flower, produce a humming sound, from which it takes its name. It is the smallest of the feathered race, and is one of the most beautiful in the elegance of its form, and the glossy brilliancy of its delicate plumage. Small as it is, however, it is exceedingly courageous, and has violent passions. The length of this bird is three inches; it lives partly on honey obtained from flowers, but devours also great quantities of very small insects. The general colour is a rich golden green on the upper parts; the breast and neck are of a dusky white. Its nest is very small, and is elegantly lined with the down of the mullein. It is covered on the outside with moss, to imitate the colour of the limb on which it is built.

ORDER III.
The Parrots. The parrots never fail to interest, on account of their beauty of form and colour, and their aptitude for imitating common sounds. There are some hundreds of species, belonging to different parts of the world, the Cockatoos to Australia, the Macaws to America, and many varieties to Africa. The Macaws and some other kinds are among the most gorgeous of living birds and whether seen in their native wilds or in the aviaries of civilisation never fail to excite admiration. The Cockatoo is distinguished from the true parrot by its crest; other species are differentiated by habit, size, colour, and form. The better known of these are, the Sulphur-crested Cockatoo, the Ground parrot, the Macaw, the Grey parrot, the Green parrot, the Parrakeets and the Love-birds.

The Parrot's Intelligence. Many stories are told of the remarkable powers of individual parrots and the singular appropriateness of their remarks on particular occasions. These are often so startling as to arouse suspicion of their authenticity, and yet a moment's reflection will show that coincidence plays a large part in these demonstrations, and that many of the most astonishing examples of felicitous interjection, or repartee, are due to this, and not to any special gift of intelligence on the part of the bird. An ordinary parrot with half a dozen phrases which it is constantly repeating, will in the nature of things, often use them in singularly felicitous connection with current conversation. No notice is taken of the many instances in which the phrase is inappropriate and yet a few cases of remarkable fitness are held to demonstrate extraordinary intelligence. Teach a parrot such a simple rejoinder as "not I!" and the bird using it in answer to all sorts of questions, will often use it with apparent intelligence, but a doll might be made to show equal wit. That parrots are taught to give certain answers to certain questions is of course true, but in these cases the questions suggest the answers and all the intelligence is shown by the interrogator. Those birds which have lived many years and acquired many phrases, will naturally, from the extent of their repertoire, the more often surprise their hearers; but that they show any greater intelligence may perhaps be doubted. That some of the parrots, and especially the Love-birds, show great feeling for each other and attachment to their owners is well known, but the claim sometimes made that they show greater intelligence than any other birds may be very safely disputed. The term "parrot-like," as applied to the repetition of lessons by rote which are not understood by those repeating them, involves no injustice to the parrot.

Famous Parrots. There have been many famous parrots who have played their part in history if they have not rivalled the geese that saved Rome. The Emperor Basilius Macedo was induced by a Parrot, who cast a gloom over the guests at a banquet by continually calling out, "Alas, alas! poor Prince Leo", to liberate his son whom he had confined on suspicion of treason. The Emperor observed the gloom of his guests and urged them to the pleasures of the table, when one of them is said to have responded, "How should we eat, Sire, when we are thus reproached by this bird of our want of duty to your family? The brute animal is mindful of its Lord; and we that have reason, have neglected to supplicate your Majesty in behalf of the prince, whom we all believe to be innocent, and to suffer under calumny." Whether the bird had been purposely taught this phrase, or had merely acquired it by hearing its frequent repetition does not appear. The following memorial which appeared in the London papers in October 1822 is quoted from the "Percy Anecdotes." "A few days ago, died, in Half Moon Street, Piccadilly, the celebrated parrot of Colonel O'Kelly. This singular bird sang a number of songs in perfect time and tune. She could express her wants articulately, and give her orders in a manner nearly approaching to rationality. Her age was not known; it was, however, more than thirty years, for previous to that period, Colonel O'Kelly bought her at Bristol for one hundred guineas. The Colonel was repeatedly offered five hundred guineas a year for the bird, by persons who wished to make a public exhibition of her; but this, out of tenderness to the favourite, he constantly refused. She could not only repeat a great number of sentences, but answer questions put to her. When singing, she beat time with all the appearance of science; and so accurate was her judgment that if by chance she mistook a note, she would revert to the bar where the mistake was made, correct herself, and still beating regular time, go through the whole with wonderful exactness." A Grey parrot is said to have been sold in 1500, for a hundred guineas, to a Lord High Cardinal at Rome, on account of its ability to repeat, without error, the Apostles' Creed.

The Grey Parrot. The Grey Parrot though less attractive in colour than other species, is perhaps the most popular of the parrot family on account of its superior accomplishments as an imitator of familiar sounds. Mr. Jesse secured from a lady friend a description of the performances of a grey parrot which resided at Hampton Court, from which we quote the following: "Her laugh is quite extraordinary, and it is impossible not to help joining in it, more especially when in the midst of it she cries out, 'Don't make me laugh so; I shall die, I shall die!' and then continues laughing more violently than before. Her crying and sobbing are curious; and if you say, 'Poor Poll, what is the matter?' she says, 'So bad, so bad; got such a cold;' and after crying some time, will gradually cease, and making a noise like drawing a long breath, say, 'Better now,' and begins to laugh." "If any one happens to cough or sneeze, she says, 'what a bad cold.' She calls the cat very plainly, saying, 'puss, puss,' and then answers 'mew'; but the most amusing part is, that whenever I want to make her call it, and to that purpose say, 'puss, puss', myself she always answers, 'mew', till I begin mewing; and then she begins calling 'puss', as quickly as possible. She imitates every kind of noise, and barks so naturally, that I have known her to set all the dogs on the parade of Hampton Court barking, and the consternation I have seen her cause in a party of cocks and hens, by her crowing and chuckling, has been the most ludicrous thing possible. She sings just like a child and I have more than once thought it was a human being; and it is most ludicrous to hear her make what one would call a false note and then say, 'oh la!' and burst out laughing at herself, beginning again in quite another key. She is very fond of singing 'Buy a Broom', which she says quite plainly, but if we say, with a view to make her repeat it, 'Buy a Broom', she always says 'Buy a Brush', and then laughs as a child might do when mischievous. She often performs a kind of exercise which I do not know how to describe, except by saying that it is like the lance exercise. She puts her claw behind her, first on one side and then on the other, then in front, and round over her head; and whilst doing so, keeps saying, 'Come on, come on!' and when finished she says 'Bravo, beautiful,' and draws herself up."

Parrot Talk. To deny the parrot the understanding of what it says, is to relieve it of the responsibility of using bad language, and offering unsound advice, and this it surely needs. A gentleman who was in the habit of kissing his parrot and then kissing his wife, before leaving home in the morning, taught the bird to say, on being kissed, "Now kiss the missus," with the result that most of the gentlemen visitors who took any notice of the parrot were recommended to salute the lady of the house. Another parrot whose cage occupied a window close to a fashionable church continually accosted the passers-by, by calling out "That's right! Go to church, keep up appearances." Such remarks must often be very embarrassing, as must have been the words and actions of a parrot who frequently called out "Who kissed the pretty girl?" and then gave a perfect imitation of the sound of several kisses in succession. Perhaps no more aggravating use was ever made of a parrot's powers than that witnessed by Buffon, who says, "I have seen a parrot very ridiculously employed, belonging to a distiller who had suffered pretty severely in his circumstances from an informer who lived opposite him. This bird was taught to pronounce the ninth commandment,—'Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour,' with a very clear, loud, articulate voice. The bird was generally placed in a cage over against the informer's house, and delighted the whole neighbourhood with its persevering exhortations."

ORDER IV.
Pigeons. There are many varieties of pigeons, some being peculiar to certain districts, and others covering a much more extended geographical area. Mr. Darwin divides the British varieties into four groups: I. The English carrier; the Runt, and the Barb. II. The Fantail; the African owl; the Short-faced Tumbler; the Indian Frill-back; and the Jacobin. III. The English Pouter, and IV. The Dove-cote pigeon; the Swallow; the Spot; the Nun; the English Frill-back; the Laugher, and the Trumpeter. The Passenger pigeon of America, the Nicobar pigeon of the Philippine Islands, the Great-crowned pigeon of New Guinea and the Hook-billed ground pigeon of Samoa are other important species.

Carrier Pigeons. In the "Percy Anecdotes" there is a brief history of the use of carrier pigeons, which we quote as follows:—"The first mention we find made of the employment of pigeons as letter carriers is by Ovid, in his 'Metamorphoses', who tells us that Taurosthenes, by a pigeon stained with purple, gave notice of his having been victor at the Olympic games on the very same day to his father at Ægina. Pliny informs us that during the siege of Modena by Marc Antony, pigeons were employed by Brutus to keep up a correspondence with the besieged. When the city of Ptolemais, in Syria, was invested by the French and Venetians, and it was ready to fall into their hands, they observed a pigeon flying over them, and immediately conjectured that it was charged with letters to the garrison. On this, the whole army raising a loud shout, so confounded the poor aërial post that it fell to the ground, and on being seized, a letter was found under its wings, from the sultan, in which he assured the garrison that 'he would be with them in three days, with an army sufficient to raise the siege.' For this letter the besiegers substituted another to this purpose, 'that the garrison must see to their own safety, for the sultan had such other affairs pressing him that it was impossible for him to come to their succour;' and with this false intelligence they let the pigeon free to pursue his course. The garrison, deprived by this decree of all hope of relief, immediately surrendered. The sultan appeared on the third day, as promised, with a powerful army, and was not a little mortified to find the city already in the hands of the Christians. Carrier pigeons were again employed, but with better success, at the siege of Leyden, in 1675. The garrison were, by means of the information thus conveyed to them, induced to stand out, till the enemy, despairing of reducing the place, withdrew. On the siege being raised, the Prince of Orange ordered that the pigeons who had rendered such essential service should be maintained at the public expense, and that at their death they should be embalmed and preserved in the town house, as a perpetual token of gratitude."

Pigeons on the Wing. Pigeons are said to travel as fast as 2,200 yards per minute and to sustain flight for hundreds of miles at a stretch. The extraordinary manner in which they will find their way almost incredible distances has suggested all kinds of speculation as to the instinct or sense which guides them. A well known pigeon fancier, interviewed by a writer who published the results of the interview in "Chums" (Cassell & Co.) says, "The popular notion that carrier pigeons are guided by some 'direction sense,' or blind instinct, is quite as absurd as the French belief that they follow certain electrical currents. I have had to do with pigeons for over twenty years," he continued, "and I am open to demonstrate to anyone that in flight they are guided by sight alone. Of course, some pigeons are more sagacious, cleverer than others; but the fact remains, and everything tends to prove it. For example, no carrier-pigeon can find its way over a strange country: it often gets lost in a fog; and again, until taught by experience, it is often led astray by colours and objects which appear to be familiar. Quite recently, when I was trying some young birds, I had an instance of how easily they may be led astray. Close to my residence is a large red-brick building, which, to an old bird, would prove a good landmark miles away. In this case, however, the birds had not been tried before, although, of course, they had been let loose and had circled round the loft for several weeks. I took five birds with me some half-mile distant from home; and, letting them loose separately from the box, was rather surprised to see four out of the five, after circling round, fly off in an entirely opposite direction to that in which they should have gone. I soon solved the mystery, however, for, watching the birds, I saw they were making for another red-brick building, which showed up clearly in the sunlight. Arriving there, each one evidently discovered its mistake, and, after flying back to the starting-point, found their whereabouts, and made for home—not in a straight line, however, for young birds invariably take a crooked, tortuous path, as though feeling their way. If pigeons are let loose on water (from a boat in a lake or wide river), they always make for the nearest land first; then, circling round, widening their circle and rising higher at the same time, they keep the starting-point in view until they sight some familiar object, in which direction they travel. If a bird is dull, or 'stupid,' as we term it, and has been tried from various points of the compass, it often happens that, when taken to a distance (say thirty or forty miles), the time occupied in reaching the loft is three of four times longer than was expected; but, take it there next day, and the journey will be done quicker than a mile a minute. Why is that? Well, the birds get confused; some object which it may have seen on a former journey, may possibly stand out boldly; and, flying at once toward this, the bird may find itself just as far from finding the 'lay of the land.' Thus it may go from one familiar point to another before 'striking' for home. That is the reason why, in training a bird for a match, we take it only in the direction from which it will have to fly, increase the distance gradually, until the bird is familiar with the path it must travel and recognises each landmark as soon as it comes in sight."

ORDER V.
Fowls. In this order (Gallinæ) the Grouse, the Ptarmigan, the Quail, the Peacock, the Pheasant, the Jungle Fowl, the Guinea Fowl, and the Wild Turkey are included; as well as our Domestic Fowls to the forms of which they more or less closely approximate. The Black Grouse, and the Red Grouse are found throughout Great Britain; the Prairie Grouse in North America. The Ptarmigan is found in Scotland and in the North of the continent of Europe; it changes colour with the seasons, becoming snow-white in winter. The Quail is found in many parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa; it visits England in the early summer and leaves about October for Africa, where it winters.

The Peacock. The Peacock has been famous in the East from before the days of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, and has been much affected in England in more recent years, on account of its beauty, as an adornment of English lawns, and as a royal dainty upon the festive board. It may be said still to keep its place as an ornament of the park, but it is no longer the choice of the epicure and seldom appears at the feast. It is said to have come originally from Persia and has doubtless reached the west from India where it still abounds. Colonel Williamson says that he has seen, in the passes of the Jungletery district, as many as twelve or fifteen hundred pea-fowls of various sizes within sight of one spot. "The gorgeous plumes that adorn the Peacock," says Mr. Wood, "do not compose the tail, as many suppose, but are only the tail-coverts. The tail feathers themselves are short and rigid, and serve to keep the train spread, as may be seen when the bird walks about in all the majesty of his expanded plumage. Although pea-fowl seek their food on the ground, they invariably roost on some elevated situation, such as a high branch, or the roof of a barn or haystack." The peacock is swift of foot, but heavy on the wing, and remains ordinarily on the ground, where it finds its food. It has a harsh voice. The peahen is a plain, homely looking bird, lacking the gorgeous tail which adorns her lord and master. Guillim, an old writer quoted by Captain Brown, says: "The Peacock is so proud, that when he erecteth his fan of plumes, he admireth himself. He displayeth his plumes against the rays of the sun, that they may glister the more gloriously: and he loseth this beautiful train yearly with the fall of the leaf; at which time he becometh bashful, and seeketh corners, where he may be secret from the sight of men, until the spring of the year, when his train beginneth to be renewed. And such is the quality of many dames, who being painted and richly attired, cannot keep within doors; but being undressed, and in their own hue, they are loath any man should see them."

The Pheasant. There are several varieties of the Pheasant, of which the Peacock Pheasant of Burmah, the Argus Pheasant of Malacca, the Golden Pheasant of China, and the Common Pheasant are the better known species. The Common Pheasant is a native of the British Isles, where it is cultivated and preserved. Under some circumstances the cock pheasant displays considerable pugnacity and a story is told of a young lady who when walking near Stirling was attacked by one which, "with spurs and beak began a furious assault. Seeing no escape from the enraged bird, she seized her adversary, and carried him home. He was, however, soon released, and when the door was opened, he went out without any sign of fear, and, with a deliberate step, paced backwards and forwards in front of the house, and manifested an inclination to join the fowls in the poultry yard. The only way to account for this assault is, that the lady wore a scarlet mantle, to which the pheasant may have had such an antipathy as the turkey cock manifests to that colour; an antipathy evinced by many other birds, and various quadrupeds; and the cause of which is to us a mystery."

The Partridge. 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. The great Albatross is a large and powerful bird, measuring three feet in length and having a stretch of wing of from nine to twelve or fourteen feet. It is a heavy bird, and needs great strength to sustain its weight during its long and rapid flights. Mrs. Bowdich says, "One was known to follow a ship, which made two hundred miles a day, for forty-eight hours; and besides these miles, from its irregular flight, it must have passed over a much longer distance. The Albatross darts with unerring aim and great force on its prey, as it swims on the top of the waves. A man who fell overboard near the island of St. Paul's was killed by these birds; for, although the boat was lowered immediately, nothing was found of him except his hat, pierced through and through by the beaks of three albatrosses, who had marked him, pecked him on the head, and caused him to sink." Their flight is easy and apparently performed without effort and with an almost imperceptible movement of wing. The Albatross is easily caught from the stern of a ship with a hook. Mr. Wood says: "It seems rather remarkable that a bird that lives in or over the sea during its whole life, should prove a landsman when taken on board. Yet, when the Albatross is caught and placed on deck, it begins to stagger about, and soon becomes as thoroughly sea sick as the most inexperienced cockney." Mr. Earl thus describes the haunt of the Albatross in the heights of the Island of Tristan d'Acunha: "A death-like stillness prevailed in these high regions, and to my ear our voices had a strange unnatural echo, and I fancied our forms appeared gigantic, whilst the air was piercing cold. The prospect was altogether sublime, and filled the mind with awe. The huge Albatross here appeared to dread no interloper or enemy; for their young were on the ground completely uncovered, and the old ones were stalking around them."

The Pelican. The Pelican is one of the largest of swimming birds. It is distinguished by the possession of a pouch which is capable of holding two gallons of water, and which it uses for the purposes of catching fish, and feeding its young. In this latter operation the bird presses its pouch which hangs beneath its beak, against its breast, and so disgorges its contents. This action is said to have given rise to the fable that pelicans pluck nourishment from their own breasts to feed their young. The Pelican belongs to the South and East of Europe and the North of Africa.

A Tame Pelican. Mr. Hill, of St. Domingo, gives an interesting account of a tame pelican which is quoted by Mrs. Bowdich. He says:—"The facility with which the pelican resigns itself to fasting or feasting, was very interestingly exhibited to me in a bird I saw the other day at Passage Fort. It was a pelican of mature age; it flew backwards and forwards, visiting the wild flocks, and feeding with them in the harbour during the day, and withdrew from them to roost in its master's yard during the night. In that period of restraint, when it was necessary to observe the caution of drawing its quill feathers, to keep it within diminished capabilities of flight, until it became familiar and domesticated, it was wholly dependent on the fish provided for it by the fishermen of the beach. Sunday was no fishing day with these men; and this was, therefore, a day in which there were no supplies for the pelican. It became, in time, so conscious of the recurrence of this fast-day, that although, at all other times, it went daily down to the sea-side to wait the coming in of the canoes, on the seventh day it never stirred from the incumbent trunk of a tree, on which it roosted, within the yard. It had been found necessary to pluck its wings within the last two or three months, to restrain it within bounds, in consequence of its absence latterly with the wild birds, for several days in succession, and in this state it was reduced, as formerly, to depend on the fishermen for food. The old habit of abstinence and drowsy repose on the Sundays again recurred, and when I saw it, it was once more a tranquil observer of the rest, and with it the fast, of the Sabbath-day."

The Penguin. The Penguin belongs to South America, Australia, New Zealand and the Cape of Good Hope. There are a number of species; the Jackass Penguin, so called from the peculiarity of its cry, the King Penguin of the South Pacific, and the Cape Penguin of Cape Horn, the largest of the penguins, being the principal varieties. Mr. Darwin in describing the Jackass penguin says:—"In diving, its little plumeless wings are used as fins, but on the land as front legs. When crawling (it may be said on four legs) through the tussocks, or on the side of a grassy cliff, it moved so very quickly that it might readily have been mistaken for a quadruped. When at sea and fishing, it comes to the surface, for the purpose of breathing, with such a spring, and dives again so instantaneously, that I defy any one at first sight to be sure that it is not a fish leaping for sport." The penguin is a courageous bird, and will not hesitate to attack a man. Mr. Darwin when on the Falkland Islands, placed himself between one of the Patagonian penguins and the water, and till it reached the sea, it regularly fought and drove him backwards. It stood close before him, erect and determined, and every inch gained it firmly kept. Nothing less than heavy blows would have stopped it.

The Puffin. The Puffin is a bird of singular appearance and interesting habits. It is sometimes called the sea parrot from the resemblance of its head to that of the Parrot kind. The bird measures thirteen inches in length, and its bill is a formidable weapon. The Raven seems to be its natural enemy, and when they come to close quarters a great deal depends upon which succeeds in getting the first grip. Naturally each bird has the best chance in its own element. It is a bird of passage, visiting its customary breeding places in the summer and wintering in southern Europe. Mr. Rennie says, "In the breeding season, numerous troops of them visit several places on our coasts, particularly the small island of Priestholm, near Anglesey, which might well be called puffin land, as the whole surface appears literally covered with them. Soon after their arrival in May, they prepare for breeding, and it is said, the male, contrary to the usual economy of birds, undertakes the hardest part of the labour. He begins by scraping up a hole in the sand not far from the shore; and after having got some depth he throws himself on his back, and with his powerful bill as a digger and his broad feet to remove the rubbish, he excavates a burrow with several windings and turnings, from eight to ten feet deep. He prefers, where he can find a stone, to dig under it, in order that his retreat may be more securely fortified. Whilst thus employed, the birds are so intent upon their work that they are easily caught by the hand."

ORDER X.
The Ostriches. This order includes the Ostrich, the Rhea, the Cassowaries and the Emus. The Ostrich belongs to Africa, Australasia, and South America. It is the largest of the birds, attaining to a height of six feet, and a weight of three hundred pounds. It is hunted for the sake of its feathers, but being very swift of foot has to be circumvented by strategy. It is said to run in large curves, which habit gives the hunter the opportunity of riding straight and intercepting it. "A favourite method adopted by the wild Bushman for approaching the Ostrich and other varieties of game," says Captain Gumming, "is to clothe himself in the skin of one of these birds, in which, taking care of the wind, he stalks about the plain, cunningly imitating the gait and motions of the Ostrich, until within range, when, with a well-directed poisoned arrow from his tiny bow, he can generally seal the fate of any of the ordinary varieties of game." The eggs of the Ostrich are also much prized. "The nest," says Captain Gumming, "is merely a hollow scooped in the sandy soil, generally amongst heath or other low bushes; its diameter is about seven feet; it is believed that two hens often lay in one nest. The hatching of the eggs is not left, as is generally believed, to the heat of the sun, but, on the contrary, the cock relieves the hen in the incubation. The eggs form a considerable item in the Bushman's cuisine, and the shells are converted into water flasks, cups, and dishes. I have often seen Bush-girls and Bakalahari women, who belong to the wandering Bechuana tribes of the Kalahari desert, come down to the fountains from their remote habitations, sometimes situated at an amazing distance, each carrying on her back a kaross, or a net-work containing from twelve to fifteen ostrich egg-shells, which had. been emptied by a small aperture at one end; these they fill with water."

The Ostrich and its Young. The Ostrich shows the same affection for its mate, and the same devotion to the care of its young that we have noticed in other birds, and in animals. The female of a pair in Paris died through swallowing a three-cornered piece of glass which a glazier had dropped into their cage, after which the mate pined away and died in a few weeks. Of their care of their young Captain Cumming says:

"I fell in with a troop of about twelve young ostriches, which were not much larger than Guinea-fowls. I was amused to see the mother endeavour to lead us away, exactly like a wild duck, spreading out and drooping her wings, and throwing herself down on the ground before us as if wounded, while the cock bird cunningly led the brood away in an opposite direction." Professor Thunberg once rode past the place where a hen Ostrich was sitting in her nest; when the bird sprang up, and pursued him, evidently with a view to prevent his noticing her eggs or young. Every time he turned his horse towards her she retreated ten or twelve paces; but as soon as he rode again she pursued him, till he had got to a considerable distance from the place where he had started her.

The Rhea. The Cassowary. The Emu. The Rhea is a beautiful bird of the ostrich type belonging to South America. There are several species, known as the Common Rhea, the Great-billed Rhea, and Darwin's Rhea, the latter belonging to Patagonia. A Common Rhea bred some time ago in the Zoological gardens, when the male bird discharged the duties of incubation. The Cassowary and the Emu belong to Australia. The Cassowary resembles the ostrich in form, but is not so large. It stands about five feet. Like all these birds it is unable to fly, but is very swift of foot. It can kick too, with great violence, as dogs have sometimes found to their cost. The Emu is a very large bird and is said sometimes to exceed six feet in height.

Mr. Bennett says:—"The length of its legs and the muscularity of its thighs enable it to run with great swiftness; and as it is exceedingly shy, it is not easily overtaken or brought within gun-shot. Captain Currie states that it affords excellent coursing, equalling if not surpassing the same sport with the hare in England; but Mr. Cunningham says that dogs will seldom attack it, both on account of some peculiar odour in its flesh which they dislike, and because the injuries inflicted upon them by striking out with its feet are frequently very severe. The settlers even assert that the Emu will break the small bone of a man's leg by this sort of kick; to avoid which, well-trained dogs run up abreast, and make a sudden spring at the neck, whereby the bird is quickly dispatched. Its flesh has been compared to coarse beef, which it resembles both in appearance and taste." Mr. Jesse says, "The only instance I have met with in which the hen bird has not the chief care in hatching and bringing up the young, is in the case of the Emus, at the farm belonging to the Zoological Society, near Kingston. A pair of these birds bred five young ones: the female, at different times, dropped nine eggs in various places in the pen in which she was confined. These were collected in one place by the male, who rolled them gently and carefully along with his beak. He then sat upon them himself, and continued to do so with the utmost assiduity, for nine weeks, during which time the female never took his place, nor was he ever observed to leave the nest. When the young were hatched, he alone took charge of them, the female not appearing to notice them in any way. On reading this anecdote, many persons may suppose that the female emu is not possessed of that natural affection for its young which other birds have. In order to rescue it from this supposition, I will mention that a female emu belonging to the Duke of Devonshire at Chiswick, laid some eggs; and as there was no male bird, she collected them together herself, and sat upon them." The Apteryx, the wingless bird of New Zealand, belongs to this order.

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