British Birds in Their Haunts

by C. A. Johns

Forehead white; throat black; head and upper part of the back bluish grey; breast, tail-coverts and tail (except the two central feathers, which are brown), bright rust-red; second primary equal to the sixth. Female—upper parts grey, tinged with red; larger wing-coverts edged with yellowish red; throat and abdomen whitish; breast, flanks, and under tail-coverts, pale red. Length, five inches and a quarter. Eggs uniform blue.

Although of no great size this summer visitor is pretty sure to attract attention by its peculiar colouring; its red tail and white crown being sufficient to distinguish it from every other British bird. It is familiar, too, in its habits, commonly resorting to gardens, and searching for its favourite food, worms and insects, on the lawn, and in orchards. It is local rather than rare, for while there are some places to which it regularly resorts every year, there are others in which it is never seen. Redstarts arrive in this country about the end of April, and soon set about the work of building their nest. This they generally place in a hole in a wall or hollow of a tree, but sometimes by the mossy stump or amongst the exposed roots of a tree. Occasionally they select a quaint domicile, a garden pot, for example, left bottom upwards, or a sea-kale bed. A still stranger instance is that of a pair of Redstarts, who, themselves or their descendants, were for twenty years located in the box of a wooden pump. On one occasion, the pump being out of order, the owner employed workmen to repair it. This proceeding offended the birds, who deserted it for three years, and then, forgetting or forgiving the intrusion, returned to their unquiet home. Another pair constructed their nest for ten successive years in the interior of an earthenware fountain placed in the middle of a garden. But though not averse to the haunts of men, the Redstart shows much anxiety when its nest is approached, flitting about restlessly and uttering a plaintive cry. I happened once to be walking in a friend's garden, and heard what I supposed to be the chirping of two birds proceed from a large apple-tree close by. As the notes were not familiar to me, I went round the tree several times in order to discover whence they proceeded. One of the notes was like the noise which may be made by striking two pebbles together, the other a querulous chirp, and they seemed to come from different parts of the tree. The author of the music, however, allowed me several times to come very near him, and I satisfied myself that both sounds proceeded from the same bird, a male Redstart, whose nest, I afterwards heard, was built in an adjoining shed. This singular power of ventriloquizing, or making its note apparently proceed from a distant place, is possessed also by the Nightingale, as any one may assure himself who will quietly creep up to within a few yards of one of these birds when singing. The song of the Redstart is short but pleasing, and it is emitted both while the bird is at rest and on the wing, principally in the morning, and only during two months of the year. Its food consists of small worms and insects, which last it is very expert at catching on the wing; and in summer, it regales itself on the soft fruits. Its nest is composed of fibrous roots and moss, and is lined with hair, wool and feathers. It lays about six eggs, which closely resemble those of the Hedge-sparrow, only that they are smaller. In autumn, the Redstarts retire southwards. On the African shores of the Mediterranean they are very abundant, and are caught by the Arabs in traps of the simplest construction. On the continent of Europe, notably in Italy, in spite of their diminutive size, they are highly prized for food. The number of Redstarts (both kinds), Redbreasts Flycatchers and Nightingales taken in traps is inconceivable. These birds being of about the same size, and equally excellent in delicacy of flesh, are sold together in all the market towns and are sent to the great cities. Thousands of dozens are thus annually despatched; but this number is as nothing compared with that consumed on the spot. In France Bird Protection has done much to stop this cruel traffic. In the schools there the boys and girls are now being taught to know and to care for the wild life about them more than in our English Council Schools.

THE BLACK REDSTART
RUTICILLA TITYS

Upper plumage bluish grey; bill, cheeks, throat, and breast, black, passing into bluish beneath; tail as in the last; greater wing-coverts edged with pure white; second primary equal to the seventh. Female—upper plumage duller; lower bright ash, passing into white; wings dusky, edged with grey; red of the tail less bright. Length, five inches and three quarters. Eggs pure shining white.

A much less frequent visitor to this country than the preceding, but by no means ranking among our rarest birds, specimens occurring in the winter of every year in some part of England or another, especially in Devon and Cornwall. Its habits are much the same as those of its congener; but it generally chooses a loftier situation for its nest, which is placed in the walls of buildings, at an elevation varying from a few feet to eighty or ninety. Its plumage differs in being much darker in the fore part of the body, while the tail is of a brighter red. The eggs are white. It generally arrives in England about the first week in November, and remains with us all the winter. Its nest has never been found in this country.

THE REDBREAST, OR ROBIN
ERÍTHACUS RUBÉCULA

Upper parts brownish grey tinged with olive; forehead, lore, and breast red, the red edged with ash-grey; abdomen white. Female like the male, except that the upper parts are ash-brown, the red less bright, and the grey surrounding it less conspicuous. Length, five inches and three quarters. Eggs yellowish white, spotted with light reddish brown.

The Redbreast is everywhere invested with a kind of sanctity beyond all other birds. Its wonted habit of making its appearance, no one knows whence, to greet the resting traveller in places the most lonely—its evident predilection for the society of the out-of-door labourer, whatever his occupation—the constancy with which it affects human habitations—and the readiness with which, without coaxing, or taming, or training, it throws itself on human hospitality—engender an idea that there must be some mysterious connexion between the two—that if there were no men, there would be no Redbreasts. Trust on one side engenders confidence on the other, and mutual attachment is the natural result. There is something, too, beyond the power of explanation in the fact that the Robin is the only bird which frequents from choice the homes of men.

The habits of the Redbreast are so well known, that to describe them would be simply to write down what every one has seen or may see.