The mode of accomplishing this was very curious. The little animal, with the assistance of its rump and wings, contrived to get the bird upon its back, and making a lodgment for the burden by elevating its elbows, clambered backward with it up the side of the nest till it reached the top, when, resting for a moment, it threw off its load with a jerk, and quite disengaged it from the nest. It remained in this situation a short time, feeling about with the extremities of its wings, as if to be convinced whether this business was properly executed, and then dropped into the nest again. With these (the extremities of its wings) I have often seen it examine, as it were, an egg and nestling before it began its operations; and the sensibility which these parts appeared to possess seemed sufficiently to compensate the want of sight, which as yet it was destitute of. I afterwards put in an egg, and this by a similar process was conveyed to the edge of the nest and thrown out. These experiments I have since repeated several times in different nests, and have always found the young cuckoo disposed to act in the same manner. In climbing up the nest it sometimes drops its burden, and thus is foiled in its endeavours; but after a little respite the work is resumed, and goes on almost incessantly till it is effected. It is wonderful to see the extraordinary exertions of the young cuckoo, when it is two or three days old, if a bird be put into the nest with it that is too weighty for it to lift out. In this state it seems ever restless and uneasy. But this disposition for turning out its companions begins to decline from the time it is two or three till it is about twelve days old, when, as far as I have hitherto seen, it ceases. Indeed, the disposition for throwing out the egg appears to cease a few days sooner; for I have frequently seen the young cuckoo, after it had been hatched nine or ten days, remove a nestling that had been placed in the nest with it, when it suffered an egg, put there at the same time, to remain unmolested. The singularity of its shape is well adapted to these purposes; for, different from other newly hatched birds, its back from the scapulæ downwards is very broad, with a considerable depression in the middle. This depression seems formed by nature for the design of giving a more secure lodgment to the egg of the hedge-sparrow, or its young one, when the young cuckoo is employed in removing either of them from the nest. When it is about twelve days old this cavity is quite filled up, and then the back assumes the shape of nestling birds in general. . . . . The circumstance of the young cuckoo being destined by nature to throw out the young hedge-sparrows seems to account for the parent cuckoo dropping her egg in the nests of birds so small as those I have particularised. If she were to do this in the nest of a bird which produced a large egg, and consequently a large nestling, the young cuckoo would probably find an insurmountable difficulty in solely possessing the nest, as its exertions would be unequal to the labour of turning out the young birds. (I have known a case in which a hedge-sparrow sat upon a cuckoo's egg and one of her own. Her own egg was hatched five days before the cuckoo's, when the young hedge-sparrow had gained such a superiority in size that the young cuckoo had not powers sufficient to lift it out of the nest till it was two days old, by which time it had grown very considerably. This egg was probably laid by the cuckoo several days after the hedge-sparrow had begun to sit; and even in this case it appears that its presence had created the disturbance before alluded to, as all the hedge-sparrow's eggs had gone except one.) . . . . June 27, 1787.—Two cuckoos and a hedge-sparrow were hatched in the same nest this morning; one hedge sparrow's egg remained unhatched. In a few hours after, a contest began between the cuckoos for the possession of the nest, which continued undetermined till the next afternoon; when one of them, which was somewhat superior in size, turned out the other, together with the young hedge-sparrow and the unhatched egg. This contest was very remarkable. The combatants alternately appeared to have the advantage, as each carried the other several times nearly to the top of the nest, and then sunk down again oppressed with the weight of its burden; till at length, after various efforts, the strongest prevailed, and was afterwards brought up by the hedge-sparrows.

To what cause, then, may we attribute the singularities of the cuckoo? May they not be owing to the following circumstances,—the short residence this bird is allowed to make in the country where it is destined to propagate its species, and the call that nature has upon it, during that short residence, to produce a numerous progeny? The cuckoo's first appearance here is about the middle of April, commonly on the 17th. Its egg is not ready for incubation till some weeks after its arrival, seldom before the middle of May. A fortnight is taken up by the sitting bird in hatching the egg. The young bird generally continues three weeks in the nest before it flies, and the foster-parents feed it more than five weeks after this period; so that, if a cuckoo should be ready with an egg much sooner than the time pointed out, not a single nestling, even one of the earliest, would be fit to provide for itself before its parent would be instinctively directed to seek a new residence, and be thus compelled to abandon its young one; for old cuckoos take their final leave of this country the first week in July.

Had nature allowed the cuckoo to have stayed here as long as some other migrating birds, which produce a single set of young ones (as the swift or nightingale, for example), and had allowed her to have reared as large a number as any bird is capable of bringing up at one time, there might not have been sufficient to have answered her purpose; but by sending the cuckoo from one nest to another, she is reduced to the same state as the bird whose nest we daily rob of an egg, in which case the stimulus for incubation is suspended.

A writer in 'Nature' (vol. v., p. 383; and vol. ix., p. 123), to whom Mr. Darwin refers in the latest edition of 'The Origin of Species' as an observer that Mr. Gould has found trustworthy, precisely confirms, from observations of his own, the above description of Jenner. So far, therefore, as the observations are common I shall not quote his statements; but the following additional matter is worth rendering:—

But what struck me most was this: the cuckoo was perfectly naked, without a vestige of a feather or even a hint of future feathers; its eyes were not yet opened, and its neck seemed too weak to support the weight of its head. The pipits (in whose nest the young cuckoo was parasitic) had well-developed quills on the wings and back, and had bright eyes partially open; yet they seemed quite helpless under the manipulations of the cuckoo, which looked a much less developed creature. The cuckoo's legs, however, seemed very muscular, and it appeared to feel about with its wings, which were absolutely featherless, as with hands—the 'spurious wing' (unusually large in proportion) looking like a spread-out thumb. The most singular thing of all was the direct purpose with which the blind little monster made for the open side of the nest, the only part where it could throw its burden down the bank. [The latter remark has reference to the position of the nest below a heather bush, on the declivity of a low abrupt bank, where the only chance of dislodging the young birds was to eject them over the side of the nest remote from its support upon the bank.] As the young cuckoo was blind, it must have known the part of the nest to choose by feeling from the inside that that part was unsupported.

Such being the facts, we have next to ask how they are to be explained on the principles of evolution. At first sight it seems that although the habit saves the bird which practises it much time and trouble, and so is clearly of benefit to the individual, it is not so clear how the instinct is of benefit to the species; for as cuckoos are not social birds, and therefore cannot in any way depend on mutual co-operation, it is difficult to see that this saving of time and trouble to the individual can be of any use to the species. But Jenner seems to have hit the right cause in the concluding part of the above quotation. If it is an advantage that the cuckoo should migrate early, it clearly becomes an advantage, in order to admit of this, that the habit should be formed of leaving her eggs for other birds to incubate. At any rate, we have here a sufficiently probable explanation of the raison d'être of this curious instinct; and whether it is the true reason or the only reason, we are justified in setting down the instinct to the creating influence of natural selection.

Mr. Darwin, in his 'Origin of Species,' has some interesting remarks to make on this subject. First, he is informed by Dr. Merrell that the American cuckoo, although as a rule following the ordinary custom of birds in incubating her own eggs, nevertheless occasionally deposits them in the nests of other birds.

Now let us suppose that the ancient progenitor of our European cuckoo had the habits of the American cuckoo, and that she occasionally laid her egg in another bird's nest. If the old bird profited by this occasional habit through being able to migrate earlier, or through any other cause; or if the young were made more vigorous by advantage being taken of the mistaken instinct of another species than when reared by their own mother, encumbered as she could hardly fail to be by having eggs and young at the same time;[175] then the old birds or the fostered young would gain an advantage.[176]

The instinct would seem to be a very old one, for there are two great changes of structure in the European cuckoo which are manifestly correlated with the instinct. Thus, the shape of the young bird's back has already been noted; and not less remarkable than this is the small size of the egg from which the young bird is hatched. For the egg of the cuckoo is not any larger than that of the skylark, although an adult cuckoo is four times the size of an adult skylark. And 'that the small size of the egg is a real case of adaptation (in order to deceive the small birds in whose nests it is laid), we may infer from the fact of the non-parasitic American cuckoo laying full-sized eggs.' Yet, although the instinct in question is doubtless of high antiquity, there have been occasional instances observed in cuckoos of reversion to the ancestral instinct of nidification; for, according to Adolf Müller, 'the cuckoo occasionally lays her eggs on the bare ground, sits on them, and feeds her young.'

In 'Nature' for November 18, 1869, Professor A. Newton, F.R.S., has published an article on a somewhat obscure point connected with the instincts of the cuckoo. He says that Dr. Baldamus has satisfied him, by an exhibition of sixteen specimens of cuckoos' eggs found in the nests of different species of birds, 'that the egg of the cuckoo is approximately coloured and marked like those of the bird in whose nest it is found,' for the purpose, no doubt, of deceiving the foster-parents. Professor Newton adds, however:—