Mr. Mudie, also speaking of their nest-building, says that, in one instance which came under his notice, “the bird began at seven o’clock on a Tuesday morning, and the nest was finished in good time on Friday afternoon.” This was certainly rapid work. Mr. Yarrell says that the he-bird brings the materials to the hen, who makes use of them—which is stated as a general fact by Michelet—and that in constructing her nest the little fly-catcher, after she had rounded it into its first form, moves backwards as she weaves into it long hairs and grasses with her bill, continually walking round and round her nest. This, however, can only be when the situation of the nest will allow of her passing round it. Our fly-catcher’s nest, and the nest of our picture, are placed as a little bed close to the wall, and in such situations the nest has sometimes no back, but simply the lining. A very favourite place with the fly-catcher for her nest is the hole in a wall, the size of a half brick, in which the builder fixed the spar of his scaffolding, and omitted to fill up when he had finished. In these convenient little nooks the fly-catcher’s nest fills the whole front of the opening, but has seldom any back to it. From all this, I think it is clear that the fly-catcher is, in her arrangements, guided by circumstances: only, in every case, her little home is as snug as it can be.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE WOOD-PIGEON.
The wood-pigeon, ring-dove, or cushat is one of the most familiar and poetical of our birds. Its low, plaintive coo-goo-roo-o-o is one of the pleasantest sounds of our summer woods.
“Tell me, tell me, cushat, why thou moanest ever,
Thrilling all the greenwood with thy secret woe?
‘I moan not,’ says the cushat, ‘I praise life’s gracious Giver
By murmuring out my love in the best way that I know.’”
The wood-pigeon belongs to a large family of birds—columbinæ or doves. The earliest mention of them in the world is in Genesis, when Noah, wearied with the confinement of the ark, and seeing that the mountain tops were visible, selected from the imprisoned creatures—first the raven, then the dove, to go forth and report to him of the state of the earth. The raven, however, came not back, no doubt finding food which tempted him to stay; whilst the dove, finding no rest for the sole of her foot, returned, and Noah, putting forth his hand, took her in. Again he sent her forth, and she came back in the evening, and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf plucked off. A third time she was sent forth, but now she returned no more. So Noah looked out, and behold the face of the earth was dry. And he and his family, and all the creatures, again went forth and possessed all things.