British Birds in Their Haunts

by C. A. Johns

The song of the Blackbird does not meet the approbation of bird-fanciers: 'It is not destitute of melody,' says Bechstein, 'but it is broken by noisy tones, and is agreeable only in the open country'. The art of teaching the Blackbird is of old date, for we find in Pepys' Diary, May 22, 1663, the following passage: 'Rendall, the house carpenter at Deptford, hath sent me a fine Blackbird, which I went to see. He tells me he was offered twenty shillings for him as he came along, he do so whistle. 23d. Waked this morning between four and five by my Blackbird, which whistled as well as ever I heard any; only it is the beginning of many tunes very well, but then leaves them and goes no further.'

The song of the Blackbird is occasionally heard during the mild days of winter, but it is not until spring sets in that it can be said to be in full, uninterrupted song. It then repairs to some thick bush or hedge, especially at the corner of a pond, and builds its nest, a bulky structure, the framework of which is composed of twigs and roots; within is a thin layer of mud lined with small fibrous roots, bents, and moss. The nest contains four or five eggs, and the young birds are fed with worms. In the breeding season Blackbirds are far more venturesome than at any other time, as they frequently select a garden in which to build their nest, with the double object, perhaps, of procuring plenty of worms for their nestlings, and of launching them when fledged where they will have great facilities for regaling themselves on summer fruits. In such localities the appearance of a cat near their nest greatly excites their wrath. From being timid they become very courageous, scolding with all their might, darting down so near as almost to dash in her face, and generally ending by compelling her to beat a retreat.

The female Blackbird differs materially from the male, its plumage being of a dingy brown hue, the breast light and spotted, the beak dark brown with yellowish edges. White and pied specimens of both sexes are occasionally met with. In a district of France not far from Paris they are very numerous, and here the title to a certain estate used to be kept up by the annual presentation of a white Blackbird to the lord of the manor. Large flocks from the Continent visit us in the autumn and winter.

THE RING OUZEL
TURDUS TORQUATUS

Plumage black edged with greyish white; a large crescent-shaped pure white spot on the throat; bill and legs dusky. Female with the gorget smaller and tinged with red and grey, and the rest of the plumage greyer. Length ten inches. Eggs greenish white, spotted with reddish brown and grey.

Ring Ouzel is hardly an appropriate name for this bird; for in reality it does not wear a ring round its neck, but a white gorget on its breast, the contrast between which and its black plumage is very striking. It frequents the mountainous parts of Scotland and hilly parts of Derbyshire, and other wild parts where moors and hills are. Though never so abundant as the Blackbird and Thrush are in the plains, it is far from uncommon. It is a migratory bird, arriving in this country in April, and returning to its southern winter quarters—Corsica and other islands of the Mediterranean—early in autumn; not so early, however, as to miss the vintage season of the south of Europe. In summer it travels as far north as Sweden and Norway, where, on the authority of Mr. Hewitson, it is often seen 'enlivening the most bleak and desolate islands with its sweet song. It shares with the Redwing the name of Nightingale, and often delighted us in our midnight visits amongst the islands.' Its habits and food while it remains with us are very similar to those of the Blackbird, and its nest, generally built among stones and bushes, near the ground, is constructed of the same materials with the nest of that bird. Towards the end of their sojourn in Britain, Ring Ouzels descend to the level countries, and are not unfrequently met with in gardens, whither they repair for the sake of feeding on fruit and berries. In form and movements the Ring Ouzel is a more elegantly shaped bird than the Blackbird.

THE WHEATEAR (STONE-SMATCH)[2]
SAXÍCOLA ŒNANTHÉ

Upper parts, in autumn reddish brown, in spring bluish grey; wings and wing-coverts, centre and extremity of the tail, legs and feet, bill and area which comprises the nostrils, eyes and ears, black; base and lower portion of the side of the tail pure white; the chin, forehead, stripe over the eyes, and under parts are also white, and in autumn the tail-feathers are also tipped with white. Female—upper parts ash-brown, tinged with yellow; stripe over the eyes dingy; all the colours less bright. Length six and a half inches; breadth twelve inches. Eggs pale bluish green.

During a considerable portion of its stay with us, open downs near the sea are the favourite resort of this lively bird, to which it repairs from its transmarine winter quarters towards the second week of March. Here it may be seen for several weeks flitting from rock to rock, and occasionally soaring to the height of about twenty yards into the air, warbling from time to time its pleasant song, now aloft, and now restlessly perched on a rock, or bank, or low stone wall, calling chack-chack—and making itself all the more welcome that few others among our summer visitants have as yet recovered their voices. We need not suppose that Wheatears prolong their stay on the coast in order to rest after their voyage. More probably they make marine insects (for these are abundant even in early spring) the principal portion of their food, and are taught, by the same instinct which guided them across the sea, to remain where their wants will be fully supplied until land insects have emerged from their winter quarters. As the season advances many of them proceed inland, and repair to barren districts, whether mountainous or lowland, where they may enjoy a considerable expanse without any great admixture of trees. A wide common studded with blocks of stone, a rabbit-warren or sloping upland, is likely to be more or less thickly peopled by these shy birds. Shy we term them, because, disposed as they are to be social among themselves (especially in spring and autumn), they are with respect to other birds most exclusive. Travelling through the waste lands of England, one may sometimes go on for miles and see no winged creatures but an occasional Wheatear, which, with dipping flight, made conspicuous by the snow-white spot at the base of its tail, shoots ahead of us some thirty or forty yards, alights on a stone, and, after a few uneasy upward and downward movements of its tail, starts off again to repeat the same manœuvre, until we begin to wonder what tempts it to stray away so far from home. It does not ordinarily sing during these excursions, but utters its occasional note, very different from its spring song. It builds its nest of grass, moss, and leaves, and lines it with hair or wool, selecting some very secret spot on the ground, a deserted rabbit-burrow or cavity under a rock, where, beyond the reach of any but the most cunning marauder, it lays five or six eggs. Early in August, when the young are fully fledged, the scattered colonies of Wheatears assemble for emigration on open downs near the sea. We have seen a good many of them on the sandy coast of Norfolk and of North Hales; but it is on the extensive downs of Sussex that they collect in the largest numbers, not in flocks, but in parties of six or eight; each party perhaps constituting a family. They here retain their shy habits of flying off at the approach of a human being, and are often seen to drop suddenly, where they may remain concealed from sight behind a stone, furze-bush or bank. The shepherds and others, whose vocation lies on the downs, used to take advantage of the habit of these birds to conceal themselves, and construct a multitude of simple but efficacious traps in which they capture large numbers. The method which they adopted was to cut out from the sward an oblong piece of turf about the size of a brick, which they inverted over the hole from which it was taken so as to form a cross. Beneath this are placed two running nooses of horsehair, in which the poor bird, when it takes refuge in one of the open ends of the hole for concealment, is easily snared. The birds being in fine condition at this season—having, in fact, fattened themselves previously to undertaking their long sea voyage—are highly prized as a dainty article of food. It was formerly the custom for persons who wanted a dish of Wheatears to supply themselves from the traps, placing a penny in every hole from which they took a bird; but afterwards the influx of visitors to the neighbouring watering-places so much enhanced their value, that the shepherds allowed no such interference. We once tried the experiment of releasing a bird and depositing the penny-piece in the trap, when, from a neighbouring eminence, we were assailed with such a torrent of abuse, that we declined repeating the experiment. In September, all who have escaped the sportsman and fowler wing their way to southern lands. It is thought that the autumnal flocks are partially composed of birds on their way from high latitudes, which stop to recruit their strength on the South-downs previous to final emigration.