Yet to be come at by the breeze;
He did not cease, but cooed and cooed,
And somewhat pensively he wooed;
He sung of love with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith and inward glee;
That was the song—the song for me.”
Wood-pigeons have immense appetites, and, being fond of all kinds of grain, as well as peas and beans, are looked upon by the farmer with great disfavour. They are, however, fond of some of those very weeds which are his greatest annoyance—for instance, charlock and wild mustard; so that they do him some good in return for the tribute which they take of his crops. They are fond, also, both of young clover and the young green leaves of the turnip, as well as of the turnip itself. Either by instinct or experience, they have learned that, feeding thus in cultivated fields, they are doing that which will bring down upon them the displeasure of man. “They keep,” says the intelligent author of “Wild Sports in the Highlands,” “when feeding in the fields, in the most open and exposed places, so as to allow no enemy to come near them. It is amusing to watch a large flock of these birds whilst searching the ground for grain. They walk in a compact body; and in order that all may fare alike—which is certainly a good trait in their character—the hindermost rank, every now and then, fly over the heads of their companions to the front, where they keep the best place for a minute or two, till those now in the rear take their place. They keep up this kind of fair play during the whole time of feeding. They feed, also, on wild fruit and all kinds of wild berries, such as the mountain-ash, and ivy; and where acorns abound, seem to prefer them to anything else. At the same time, I must confess that they are great enemies to my cherry-trees, and swallow as many cherries as they can hold. Nor are strawberries safe from them, and the quantity of food they manage to stow away in their crops is perfectly astonishing.”
Its Necessary Watchfulness.
Besides man, the wood-pigeon has its own bird-enemies. “In districts where the hooded crow abounds,” says the author whom I have just quoted, “he is always on the look-out for its eggs, which, shining out white from the shallow, unsubstantial nest, are easily seen by him. The sparrow-hawk seizes the young when they are half-grown and plump; he having been carefully noticed watching the nest day by day as if waiting for the time when they should be fit for his eating. The larger hawks, however, prey upon the poor wood-pigeon himself.”