CHAP. XXI.
CURIOSITIES RESPECTING BIRDS.—(Concluded.)
Birds’ Nests—Migration of Birds—Curious Method of Bird-Catching in the Faro Isles—Song of Birds.
Birds’ Nests.
————It wins my admiration,
To view the structure of that little work,
A bird’s nest: mark it well within, without;
No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut,
No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert,
No glue to join! his little beak was all;
And yet how neatly finish’d!
Hurdis.
The structure of Bird’s Nests discovers to us many curious objects, which cannot be uninteresting to the reflecting mind. And who does not admire those little regular edifices composed of so many different materials, collected and arranged with so much pains and skill, and constructed with so much industry, elegance, and neatness, with no other tools than a bill and two feet? That men can erect great buildings according to certain rules of art, is not surprising, when we consider that they enjoy the reasoning faculty, and that they possess tools and instruments of various kinds, to facilitate their work; but that a delicate little bird, in want of almost every thing necessary for such an undertaking, with only its bill and claws, should know how to combine so much skill, regularity of form, and solidity of composition, in constructing its nest, is truly wonderful, and never enough to be admired. We shall therefore consider it more minutely.
Nothing is more curious than the nest of a goldfinch or a chaffinch. The inside of it is lined with cotton, wool, and fine silky threads, while the outside is interwoven with thick moss; and that the nest may be less remarkable, and less exposed to the eye of observers, the colour of the moss resembles that of the bark of the tree, or of the hedge, where the nest is built. In some nests, the hair, the down, and the straws, are curiously laid across each other, and interwoven together. There are others, all the parts of which are neatly joined and fastened together by a thread which the bird makes of flax, horse or cow hair, and often of spiders’ webs. Other birds, as the blackbird and the lapwing, after having constructed their nest, plaster the outside with a thin coating of mortar, which cements and binds together all the lower parts, and which, with the help of some cow-hair or moss, stuck to it whilst the plaster is wet, keeps it compact and warm. The nests of swallows are differently constructed from the rest. They use neither sticks, straws, nor strings; but they compose a sort of cement, with which they make themselves nests, perfectly neat, secure, and convenient. To moisten the dust of which they form their nests, they frequently skim over the surface of some lake or river, and, dipping their breasts into the water, shake their wet feathers upon the dust till it is sufficiently moist, and then knead it up into a kind of clay with their bills.
But the nests most worthy of our admiration are those of certain Indian birds, which suspend them with great art from the branches of trees, that they may be secure from the pursuit of several animals and insects. In general, each species of bird has a peculiar mode of fixing its nest; some build them on houses, others in trees, some in the grass, others on the ground, and always in that way which is most adapted for the rearing of their young, and the preservation of their species. Such, therefore, is the wonderful instinct of birds, even in the structure and disposition of their nests alone, that we may safely conclude they cannot be mere machines. But is it not also apparent, that in all their works they propose to themselves certain ends? They construct their nests hollow, forming the half of a sphere, that the heat may be more concentric. The nest is covered without by substances more or less coarse, not only to serve as a foundation, but to prevent the wind and insects from entering. Within, it is lined with the most delicate materials, such as wool and feathers, that the nestlings may be soft and warm. Is it not something nearly approaching to reason, which teaches the bird to place its nest in such a manner as to be sheltered from rain, and out of the reach of destructive animals? Where have they learned that they are to produce eggs, which will require a nest to prevent them from being broken, and to keep them in the necessary temperature? that the heat would not be sufficiently concentrated if the nest were larger; and that, if it were smaller, all the young ones could not be contained in it? Who has taught them not to mistake the time, but to calculate so exactly, that the eggs are not laid before the nest is finished? These questions have never been satisfactorily answered, neither can this mystery in nature be clearly explained; all we can do is, to refer it to an instinct, which some animals seem to possess in a manner almost equal to reason: and instinct to them is much more happy and beneficial than reason would be; for they seem to enjoy all the sweets of life without their moments being imbittered by the consideration of their inferior rank in the creation, and without the pain of anticipating evil.
The following account is principally abridged from that very interesting work, The Contemplative Philosopher. The present compiler acknowledges his obligations to that work on many occasions, and gives it his warmest recommendations to the public.
Migration of Birds.—The migration of birds has been justly considered as one of the most wonderful exhibitions of nature. This migration, which is common to the quail, the stork, the crane, the fieldfare, the woodcock, the cuckoo, the martin, the swallow, and various others, is, indeed, a very curious article in natural history, and furnishes a very striking instance of a powerful instinct impressed by the Creator. Dr. Derham observes two circumstances remarkable in this migration: the first, that these untaught, unthinking creatures, should know the proper times for their passage, when to come and when to go; as also, that some should come when others retire. No doubt, the temperature of the air as to heat and cold, and their natural propensity to breed their young, are the great incentives to these creatures to change their habitations. But why should they at all change their habitations? And why is some certain place to be found, in all the terraqueous globe, that, all the year round, can afford them convenient food and habitation?—The second remarkable circumstance is, that they should know which way to steer their course, and whither to go. What instinct is it that can induce a poor foolish bird to venture over vast tracts of land and sea. If it be said, that by their high ascents into the air, they can see across the seas; yet what shall instruct or persuade them, that another land is more proper for their purpose than this? that Great Britain, for instance, should afford them better accommodation than Egypt, the Canaries, Spain, or any of the other intermediate countries?—Physico-Theology, book vii. chap. 3.