British Birds in Their Haunts

by C. A. Johns

Of the two common names of this bird, 'Moor-hen' and 'Water-hen', the former is that which is more generally in use, though the latter is the more appropriate. The bird frequents moors, it must be admitted, but only such as are watery; while there is scarcely a river, lake, canal, brook, or even pond, of moderate dimensions, which Moor-hens do not either inhabit all the year round or occasionally visit. The name is objectionable on other accounts; the male bird is called a Moor-hen as well as the female, while the terms Moor-fowl and Moor-cock have long been applied to the Ptarmigan. For these reasons, I suppose, many recent ornithologists Anglicize the systematic name, and call it the Gallinule, which means 'little fowl', and is suggestive of the half-domestic habits of the bird, under certain circumstances.

The Gallinule being a common bird of some size, conspicuous colours, and active habits, is an interesting appendage of our rivers and pieces of artificial water. Its note, something between a bark and a croak, is as well known in watered districts as the note of the Cuckoo, and is often uttered when the bird has no intention of being seen. Any one who may happen to be walking on the bank of a reedy pond may perhaps hear its strange cry and see the bird itself at some little distance, swimming about with a restless jerky motion, often dipping its head, and with every dip turning slightly to the right or the left. If he wishes for a nearer view, let him advance quietly, concealing himself as much as he can; for if he proceeds carelessly, and takes off his eyes for any considerable time from the spot where he observed it, when he looks again it will have disappeared, taken wing, he may imagine, for some distant part of the water. Not so; the cunning bird, as soon as a stranger was perceived within a dangerous proximity, steered quietly for the nearest tuft of reeds, among which it lies ensconced till he has passed on his way. Or it rose out of the water, and, with its feet trailing on the surface, made for a similar place of concealment; or dived to the bottom, where it still remains clinging to the weeds. Perhaps it lies close to his feet, having sunk beneath the water, and, aided by feet and wings, rowed a subaqueous course to an often-tried thicket of rushes, where, holding on with its feet to the stems of submerged weeds, it remains perfectly still, leaving nothing above the surface of the water but the point of its beak. If the observer suspects the whereabouts of its concealment, he may beat the rushes with his stick and produce no effect; the bird knows itself to be safe where it is and will make no foolish attempt to better itself. A water spaniel or Newfoundland dog will be more effective. Very often an animal of this kind is an overmatch for its sagacity, and seizes it in his mouth before the poor bird was aware that the water itself was to be invaded; but more frequently it discovers an onset of this nature in time to clear itself from its moorings, and dashing out with a splashing movement of feet and wings skims across the pond to another lurking-place, and defies further pursuit.

The Gallinule, though an excellent swimmer and diver, belongs to the Waders; it has, consequently, free use of its legs on land, and here it is no less nimble than in the water. When induced to change the scene it steps ashore, and, with a peculiar jerking motion of its tail, showing the white feathers beneath, and very conspicuous by its bright red bill, which harmonizes pleasantly with the green grass, it struts about and picks up worms, insects, snails, or seeds, with unflagging perseverance, making no stay anywhere, and often running rapidly. If surprised on these occasions, it either makes for the water, or flies off in a line for some thick hedge or patch of brushwood, from which it is very difficult to dislodge it.

Its mode of life is pretty much the same all the year round; it is not a traveller from choice. Only in severe weather, when its haunts are bound up with ice, it is perforce compelled to shift its quarters. It then travels by night and searches for unfrozen streams. At such times it appears occasionally in pretty large numbers in places where usually a few only resort. When the south of Europe is visited by severe frosts it is supposed even to cross the Mediterranean, it having been observed in Algeria, feeding in marshes in half-social parties, where a day or two before none had been seen. To the faculties of swimming and running it adds that of perching on trees; this it does habitually, as it roosts in low bushy trees; and it has besides the power of walking cleverly along the branches.

In the neighbourhood of houses where it has long been undisturbed, it loses much of its shy nature, and will not only allow itself to be approached within a short distance, but, becoming half-domesticated, will consort with the poultry in the farmyard, and come with them to be fed. It is fond also of visiting the kitchen-garden, where it is apt to make itself unwelcome, by helping itself to the tenderest and best of the vegetables. Bishop Stanley, in his entertaining Book on Birds, gives some highly amusing anecdotes of the Gallinule.

It builds its nest on the stump of a tree, or in a bush among wet places, or in the roots of alders, but often it is placed on the low-lying branch of a tree overhanging the water. The nest is a large structure, made of rushes and dry flags, and is easy of detection. It is very liable, too, to be swept away by any sudden rise in a river. Added to which, the young frequently fall a prey to pike. But as the bird has two, and sometimes three, broods in a year, each consisting of from six to eight, it remains undiminished in numbers. The nest is sometimes placed in a tree at a distance from the water. When this is the case, as the habits of the young birds are aquatic, immediately on their breaking the egg, the old birds convey them in their claws to the water. An instance is recorded in the Zoologist of a female Gallinule being seen thus employed carrying a young one in each foot; it has been observed, too, that in such cases the male bird builds a second nest, near the water's edge, to which the young retire for shelter during the night, until they are sufficiently fledged to accompany their parents to their ordinary roosting-places in trees.

THE COMMON COOT
FÚLICA ÁTRA

Upper plumage black, tinged on the back with grey; under parts bluish grey; frontal disk large, pure white; bill white, tinged with rose-red; irides crimson; feet grey, tinged with green; part of the tibia orange-yellow. Length sixteen inches. Eggs brownish, speckled with reddish brown.

The Coot, seen from a distance, either on land or water, might be mistaken for a Gallinule, flirting up its tail when it swims, jerking its head to and fro, and when on land strutting about with a precisely similar movement of all its members. On a nearer examination, it is clearly distinguished by its larger size and the white bare spot above the bill, in front, from which it is often called the Bald-headed Coot. It is only during the summer season that the two birds can be compared; for while the Gallinule remains in the same waters all the year round, the Coot visits the Azores, Madeira and the Canaries, North Africa and Egypt in winter, and gets as far south as the Blue Nile. Their note, in summer, is a loud harsh cry, represented by the syllable krew, as it would be uttered by a crazy trumpet. In winter they are nearly mute. During the latter season, Coots are confined to the southern parts of the island; but in the breeding season they are more generally diffused.

When seen on the sea-coast, they are readily distinguished from Ducks by the different position in which they sit on the water, with their heads low, poking forwards, and their tails sticking high above the body. When flying in large coveys, they crowd together into a mass, but when swimming scatter over a wide space.