Some of these feathers are weak and soft, with slender shafts and loose threads growing all round them, and these are the downy feathers which lie close to the body and keep the bird warm. Others, which cover the outside and form the wings and tail are flat, with strong quills and shafts, and a double set of barbs growing upon each shaft; and if you look at these wing feathers under a strong microscope you will see that they have a special arrangement for helping them to resist the air. For not only have all the little featherlets or barbs rows of other featherlets or barbules growing upon them, but these again are covered with fine horny threads, often hooked at the tip, which cling to the next barb, so that the feather is woven together as it were, in a close web, and if you strike it against the air you will find that it resists it strongly.
Now in a bird’s wing the feathers are so arranged that they lap one under the other from the outside of the wing to the body, so that when the bird strikes downwards they are firmly pressed together, and the whole wing, which is hollow like the bowl of a spoon, encloses a wingful of air, and as this is forced out behind, where the tips of the feathers are yielding and elastic, he is driven upwards and forwards. When, however, he lifts his wing again, the feathers turn edgeways and are separated, so that the air passes through them, and he still rises while preparing for the next stroke. All this goes on so rapidly that even the heron makes 300 strokes in a minute, and the wild duck 500, while in most birds they are so rapid that it is impossible to count them; yet all the while the little creature can direct his flight where he will, can pause and direct his wings to the breeze so as to soar, can swoop or hover, wheel or strike, guiding himself by the outspread tail and a thousand delicate turns of the wing.
All this complicated machinery, however, would not have served the bird much if his body had been as heavy, and his blood as cold, as those of the lizard and the crocodile. But here he has made a great step forward. In the first place, he has a heart with four chambers, two on the right side and two on the left; and while one of those on the right side receives the worn-out blood from the body and pumps it to the lungs to be refreshed, one of those on the left side receives it from the lungs when it is refreshed, and the other pumps it into the arteries to feed the body. So here we see for the first time among our backboned animals a creature whose good and bad blood are never mixed in the heart (compare [pp. 23] and [76]), but it gets all the benefit possible from its breathing, and the blood is kept fresh and pure.
Moreover, a bird’s lungs are large, and are continued into several large air-sacs, which in their turn open out into tubes which carry air actually into the bones, many of which are hollow instead of containing marrow like those of other animals.[94]
And now we begin to see how wonderfully these little creatures are fitted for flying. With all this air within them, not only is their blood kept hot by constant purifying, but their bodies are much lighter than if their bones were solid, and they can present a much broader surface to float upon the air without increasing equally in weight. Meanwhile, their feathery covering prevents the cold air around from chilling them, so that they are not only warm-blooded animals, but actually warmer-blooded even than ourselves.
Thus, then, Life has spread her feathered favourites over the world. For them there are no limits except the extreme depths of the water below, and the height beyond the atmosphere above. Wherever air-breathing creatures can go, there some bird may be found. On the dizzy ledges of inaccessible cliffs, on the wide bosom of the open ocean, on the sandy wastes of the desert, in the tops of the highest trees, on the cloud-capped peaks of the mountains, diving or swimming, flying or soaring, running, perching, darting, or sailing for miles and miles without one moment’s rest, they find their way everywhere, and there is no spot from the icebound countries of the Arctic zone to the warm bright forests of the tropics where they do not penetrate; while their sharp eyes, kept free from dust and harm by a third eyelid moving rapidly sideways,[95] see far into the distance, and thus as they soar into the sky they have a power, possessed by no other animals, of overlooking a wide domain. Nor have they been obliged, like the reptiles, to take up strangely different forms to suit their various habits, for so wonderfully does their body meet all their wants that very slight changes, such as a broad body and webbed feet for the swimmers, long bare legs for the waders, a long hind toe for grasping in the perchers, and sharp claws and beak for the birds of prey, fit each one for his work, and are some of the chief distinctions we can find between them.
Even the heavy running birds, the Ostriches of Africa, the Rheas of South America, and the Emus and Cassowaries of Australia, still remain truly bird-like, though their wings are unfit for flight. True, their breastbones are flat instead of keel-shaped, for they have no need of strong muscles to move their wings, which now serve only as sails to catch the wind as they run, and in many other ways they are an older type than our flying birds; but their wing bones are formed as if they were used for flying, and their feathers, though loose and downy because they have no little booklets, are like those of other birds.
Fig. 35.
The Ostrich[96] at full speed.