And if we cannot sing, we’ll say
Something to the purpose, Jay!
—George Parsons Lathrop.
“The Blue Jay makes as good a forest watchman as the Crow. Steal along ever so quietly, and if he chances to spy you, good-by to seclusion; his cry of alarm rouses every bird within ear-shot. But it is in their family life the Jays show to the best advantage, for they will stay by the nest and fight to the death, if necessary, while big cousin Crow, though he makes a precious racket, takes good care to keep himself well out of harm’s way.
“One trait belongs to this bird that I have never seen recorded of any other, though, of course, it may be common to all, and that is the care of the aged.
“To care for the young, even among people, is an instinct as strong as self-protection. To care for the aged implies a good heart and a certain amount of unselfishness. This story is written down by Major Bendire, in his book on the Life Histories of American Birds. He lived much with the birds, and saw so truly that the Wise Men believe what he records.
Mr. Firth to Major Bendire,—
I made some observations last summer on the habits of the Blue Jay, which certainly show a degree of sympathy and kindness worthy of imitation of animals of a higher order. Last August (1887), on an old farm in Jefferson County, Wisconsin, my attention was attracted by the notes of a Blue Jay, not the ordinary cry, but a series of regular calls, followed by answers from a neighbouring tree. There was something so peculiarly like a communication of thought about the sound that I went to the place, and saw an old Blue Jay perched on a fence some distance from the tree where there were others.
On my nearing the bird, the calls from the others became more frequent and loud, changing from a low, pleasant communicative tone to shrill alarm. Thinking that he was injured in some way, I went up to him and found that at least he was partially blind. The eyes were blurred and dim, the beautiful blue feathers were faded; in fact, the general appearance of the bird was so different as to be seen at a glance; the claws were worn, the bill dulled, and the wings and tail ragged. Every feature suggested old age and feebleness. Yet he was watched and cared for as tenderly as ever a growing bird in the nest.
No sooner had I caught him than there were at least a dozen Jays close at hand whose sympathy and interest were manifest as clearly as could be with words.