British Birds in Their Haunts

by C. A. Johns

The Crossbill is about the size of the Common Bunting, and, like it and the Hawfinch, is a remarkably stout bird, having a strong bill, a large head, short thick neck, compact ovate body, short feet of considerable strength, rather long wings, and moderately large tail. Its plumage, in which green or red predominates, according to the age of the bird, is much more gaudy than that of our common birds, and approaches that of the Parrots, a tribe which it also resembles in some of its habits. Though only occasional visitors with us, Crossbills are plentiful in Germany, Bavaria, Sweden, and Norway all the year round, and are occasionally mischievous in orchards and gardens, on account of their partiality to the seeds of apples, which they reach by splitting the fruit with one or two blows of their stout bills. Food of this kind, however, they can only obtain in autumn; at other seasons, and, indeed, all the year round in districts remote from orchards, they feed principally on the seeds of various kinds of fir, which they extract from the cone by the joint action of their beak and tongue. The alder and other trees are also sometimes visited, and they have been noticed to resort to thistles and pick the seeds from them. 'In the autumn of 1821', says Macgillivray, 'when walking from Aberdeen to Elgin, by the way of Glenlivat, and along the Spey, I had the pleasure of observing, near the influx of a tributary of that river, a flock of several hundreds of Crossbills, busily engaged in shelling the seeds of the berries which hung in clusters on a clump of rowan (mountain ash) trees. So intent were they on satisfying their hunger that they seemed not to take the least heed of me; and as I had not a gun, I was content with gazing on them without offering them any molestation. They clung to the twigs in all sorts of positions, and went through the operation of feeding in a quiet and business-like manner, each attending to his own affairs without interfering with his neighbours. It was, indeed, a pleasant sight to see how the little creatures fluttered among the twigs, all in continued action, like so many bees on a cluster of flowers in sunshine after rain.' A writer in the Zoologist thus describes the manœuvres of a flock which he observed in 1849, in the county of Durham: "On the fifteenth of July when taking a drive in the western part of the county, where there are many thousand acres of fir-plantations, I had the good fortune to see a flock of birds cross my path, which appeared to be Crossbills; so, leaving the gig, I followed some distance into a fir-plantation, where, to my great gratification, I found perhaps thirty or more feeding on some Scotch firs. The day being fine, and as they were the first I had seen in a state of wild nature, I watched them for about twenty minutes. Their actions are very graceful while feeding, hanging in every imaginable attitude, peering into the cones, which, if they contain seeds, are instantly severed from the branch; clutched with one foot, they are instantly emptied of their contents, when down they come. So rapidly did they fall, that I could compare it to nothing better than being beneath an oak-tree in autumn, when the acorns are falling in showers about one's head, but that the cones were rather heavier. No sooner are they on the wing than they, one and all, commence a fretful, unhappy, chirl, not unlike the Redpoll's, but louder.' Another writer, in the Magazine of Natural History, thus records his experience: 'From October, 1821, to the middle of May, 1822, Crossbills were very numerous in this county (Suffolk), and, I believe, extended their flight into many parts of England. Large flocks frequented some fir-plantations in this vicinity, from the beginning of November to the following April. I had almost daily opportunities of watching their movements; and so remarkably tame were they, that, when feeding on fir-trees not more than fifteen or twenty feet high, I have often stood in the midst of the flock, unnoticed and unsuspected. I have seen them hundreds of times, when on the larch, cut the cone from the branch with their beak, and, holding it firmly In both claws, as a hawk would a bird, extract the seeds with the most surprising dexterity and quickness. I do not mean to assert this to be their general habit; but it was very frequently done when feeding on the larch. I have never seen them adopt the like method with cones of the Scotch or other species of pine, which would be too bulky for them to manage. Their method with these, and, of course, most frequently with the larch, was to hold firmly on the cone with their claws; and, while they were busily engaged in this manner, I have captured great numbers; many with a horsehair noose fixed to the end of a fishing-rod, which I managed to slip over their head when they were feeding, and, by drawing it quickly towards the body, I easily secured them; others I took with a limed twig, fixed in such a manner in the end of a rod that, on touching the bird, the twig quickly became disengaged, adhered to the feathers, rendered the wings useless, and caused the poor bird to fall perfectly helpless on the ground. In this manner, in windy weather, I have taken several from the same tree, without causing any suspicion of danger. On warm sunny days, after feeding a considerable time, they would suddenly take wing, and, after flying round for a short time, in full chorus, alight on some lofty tree in the neighbourhood of the plantations, warbling to each other in low pleasing strains. They would also fly from the trees occasionally for the purpose of drinking, their food being of so dry a nature. To captivity they were quickly reconciled, and soon became very familiar. As, at first, I was not aware what food would suit them, I fixed branches of the larch against the sides of the room in which I confined them, and threw them a quantity of the cones on the floor. I found that they not only closely searched the cones on the branches but, in a few days, not one was left in the room that had not been pried into. I gave them canary and hemp-seed; but thinking the cones were both amusement and employment, I continued to furnish them with a plentiful supply. I had about four dozen of them; and frequently, whilst I have been in the room, they would fly down, seize a cone with their beak, carry it to a perch, quickly transfer it to their claws, and in a very short time empty it of its seeds, as I have very many times witnessed to my surprise and amusement.' These accounts are most interesting, yet they are all equally defective in failing to describe the mode in which Buffon's 'useless deformity', the crossed bill, is employed in the work of splitting open a cone This defect is supplied partially by Mr. Townson's description, quoted by Yarrell, and partly by the latter author in his own words. 'Their mode of operation is thus:—They first fix themselves across the cone, then bring the points of the mandibles from their crossed or lateral position, to be immediately over each other. In this reduced compass they insinuate their beaks between the scales, and then, opening them—not in the usual manner, but by drawing the inferior mandible sideways—force open the scales.' "'At this stage', Yarrell proceeds to say, 'the end of the tongue becomes necessary; and this organ is no less admirably adapted for the service required.... While the points of the beak press the scale from the body of the cone, the tongue is enabled to direct and insert its cutting scoop underneath the seed, and the food thus dislodged is transferred to the mouth; and when the mandibles are separated laterally in this operation the bird has an uninterrupted view of the seed in the cavity with the eye on that side to which the under mandible is curved.'"

The beak of the Crossbill then, far from being a defect in the organization of the bird, is a perfect implement always at its owner's command, faultless alike in design and execution, and exquisitely adapted to its work, not an easy one, of performing, by a single process, the office of splitting, opening, and securing the contents of a fir-cone, and he must be a bold man who could venture to suggest an improvement in its mechanism.

It has been observed that young birds in the nest have not their mandibles crossed, and at this period such an arrangement would be useless, as they are dependent for food on the parent birds. It has also been observed that the side on which the upper mandible crosses the lower varies in different individuals; in some it descends on the right side of the lower mandible, in others on the left. The bird appears to have no choice in the matter, but whatever direction it takes at first, the same it always retains.

The nest of the Crossbill is constructed of slender twigs of fir and coarse dry grass, and lined with fine grass and a few hairs, and concealed among the upper branches of a Scotch fir.

The Two-barred (or White-winged) Crossbill (Loxia bifasciata) is only a rare straggler in winter to this country.

THE CORN (OR COMMON) BUNTING
EMBERIZA MILIARIA

Upper parts yellowish brown, with dusky spots; under parts yellowish white, spotted and streaked with dusky. Length seven inches and a half. Eggs dull white, tinged with yellow, or pink, and spotted and streaked with dark purple brown.

Though called the Common Bunting, this bird is by no means so abundant in England as the Yellow Bunting; its name, however, is not misapplied, as it appears to be the most generally diffused of the family, being found all over the European continent, in the islands of the Mediterranean, in Asia Minor, and the north of Africa. In the latter district it appears as a bird of passage in November; and about Martinmas it is so abundant as to become a staple article of food. At this season, all the trees in the public roads and squares of the villages are literally covered with these birds. Macgillivray informs us that it is more abundant in the outer Hebrides than in any other part of the country he has visited; and that it is there generally known by the name of Sparrow. In England it is a constant resident; but as it is much more abundant in autumn and winter than in summer, it probably receives accessions to its numbers from the north. From its habit of congregating in large flocks in the winter and alighting on arable land to feed, after the manner of the Skylark, it is sometimes called 'Lark Bunting', and, from its favourite food, 'Corn Bunting'. It builds its nest in a tuft of grass, often under the shelter of briers or a low bush, constructing it of dry grass with a lining of hair. Its song, which is harsh and unmelodious, consists of a number of short repetitions of the same note, terminating with a long one lower in tone, and is generally uttered by the bird perched the while on some slight elevation, such as a stone or the topmost twig of a furze-bush. On first rising, it allows its legs to drop as if broken.

THE YELLOW BUNTING (OR YELLOW HAMMER)
EMBERIZA CITRINÉLLA

Head, neck, breast, and lower parts bright yellow, more or less streaked with dusky; flanks streaked with brownish red; upper parts reddish brown spotted with dusky. Female—the yellow parts less vivid, and spotted with dull reddish brown. Length six inches and a quarter. Eggs purplish or yellowish white, speckled and lined with dark purple brown.