Peeps at Many Lands: Norway

by A. F. Mockler-Ferryman

Chapter XI

Wild Nature—Birds

What a place Norway must be for birds’-nesting! There, if one went at the right time, and did not mind roughing it, one might find eggs which one could never come across in England, although laid by birds which are called British. But the Norwegians protect a great many of their birds by law in the same way as we do, and if this had only been done a hundred years ago the Great Auk would not have disappeared for ever.

Most of our British birds are found in Norway at some time of the year, and many of our rarer birds are almost common in Norway—golden eagles, snowy owls, ravens, ring-ouzels, and crested tits, for instance. As with us, there are resident birds and migratory birds. Nearly all the kinds of birds which come from the South in the summer months to nest in the British Isles also go farther North and nest in Norway. You will find swallows, martins, cuckoos, warblers, and others of our summer birds all nesting over there, and you will find some varieties of southern birds which do not come to England, but go straight up from Eastern or Central Europe to breed in the cool of the North. Amongst these may be mentioned the blue-throated warbler, ortolan bunting, Lapland bunting, shore lark, red-throated pipit, tree warbler, and many others.

Then there are birds which are common enough in England in the winter, but which mostly go away to Norwegian breeding-grounds, such as geese, ducks, woodcock, and snipe; while bramblings, fieldfares, and redwings are birds of the North, and never nest in Great Britain. Besides these, there are a certain number of birds which have no claim to be termed British, and which are found in Norway all the year round—the nut-cracker, several kinds of woodpecker, the ryper (the game-bird of the country), and others. And, on the other hand, some of our common resident birds migrate from Norway in the winter.

The house-sparrow is as much at home in Norway as he is in every other land, but in winter he sticks close to the habitations, and were it not for the fact that the people are bird-lovers, sparrows would have a poor chance of picking up a living at this time of the year. Towards the end of autumn it is a general custom to erect near the house a sheaf of corn on a pole, so that the small birds may have something to eat when the hard weather comes. And the ceremony of putting up the pole is made the occasion for a feast for the children. They are thus not likely to forget the birds, and even in the towns one sees these bundles of corn hanging outside the windows.

It is, perhaps, a little disappointing to find that robins in Norway are not associated with Christmas, but the fact remains that they are not brave enough to risk starvation, and though a few of them are said to stay in the country, the bulk of them leave in September. But the wren takes the place of the robin as far as tameness and impertinence are concerned, as in winter he attaches himself to the peasant’s cottage and makes himself quite at home, being known either as “Peter-of-the-Afternoon” or as “Tommy-round-the House.” Magpies also are great favourites with the country people at this season, as they become quite tame, and hop in and out of the cottages. They are regularly fed, and no one would dream of molesting them.

The Norwegians have several quaint old legends connected with some of their birds. This is the story of the gold-crest, known in Norway as the “bird king”:

“Once upon a time the golden eagle determined to be publicly acknowledged as king of the birds, and he called a meeting of every kind of bird in the world. As many of the birds would come from tropical countries, he appointed a day in the warmest month; and the place he chose was a vast tract called Grönfjeld, where every species of bird would feel at home, since it bordered on the sea, yet was well provided with trees, shrubs, flowers, rocks, sand, and heather, as well as with lakes and rivers full of fish. So on the morning of the great congress the birds began to arrive in a steady stream, and by noon every description of bird was represented—even the ostrich (though how he contrived to cross the seas the story does not say). The eagle welcomed them, and when the last hummingbird had settled down he addressed the meeting, saying that there was no doubt that he had a right to demand to be proclaimed their king. The spread of his wings was prodigious, he could fearlessly look at the sun, and to whatever height he soared he could detect the slightest movement of a fly on the earth. But the birds objected to him on account of his predatory habits, and then each in turn stated his own case as a claimant for the kingship—the ostrich could run the fastest, the bird of paradise and the peacock could look the prettiest, the parrot could talk the best, the canary could sing the sweetest, and every one of them, for some reason or other, was in his own opinion superior to his fellows. After several days of fruitless discussion it was finally decided that whichever bird could soar the highest should be, once and for all, proclaimed king.”