TINKLING GRAKLE.[61]
Tin-tin.—Barbadoes Blackbird.
Quiscalus crassirostris.—Sw.
[61] Length 12½ inches, expanse 18¼, flexure 6, tail 5³⁄₁₀, rictus 1⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₁₀. Intestine 12 inches; two cæca ¹⁄₆ inch long, ½ inch from cloaca. Irides cream-white.
The appearance, voice, and habits of this bird had pretty well convinced me of its distinctness from Q. versicolor, before I was aware that Mr. Swainson had described it in “Two centenaries and a quarter,” p. 355. From the length of his specimen, it is probable the tail was not fully developed.
This is one of the first birds which a stranger notices: his conspicuous size and glossy plumage, his familiar business-like manners, and his very peculiar metallic cry, at once attract attention. Gregarious, but not associating in very great numbers to feed, they frequent pastures and open grounds in search of insects, not often hopping, (though I have seen one hop,) but walking with a swaggering gait, like rooks and crows. When on the ground their time is chiefly occupied in searching about among the roots of the grass. It is most amusing to stand where one is not observed, at a few yards’ distance from a Tinkling at work, and to watch the unremitted industry with which he labours. He marches rapidly to and fro, turning his head in all directions, peeping eagerly hither and thither, now turning one eye to a spot, now the other, ever and anon thrusting into the earth the beak, which is then forcibly opened to loosen the soil. He drags many morsels forth, which he quickly swallows, and searches for more. I suspect earthworms and various larvæ that live at the roots of grass are the objects of his research. Amidst his constant occupation, he does not omit, however, to keep an eye warily on any suspicious object. Only shew your person, and you see the singular-looking white eye turned up towards you; stir a step towards him, and away he flies, uttering his very peculiar cry, his long tail folded on itself, and resembling a vertical fan. As he sits on a tree, he will now and then elevate the fan-like tail, ruffle up the plumage, throw back the head, and with the beak wide open, utter two or three most singular notes, which I can compare to nothing but the sounds produced by repeatedly striking with force a piece of sonorous metal, relieved occasionally by the creaking of a schoolboy’s pencil upon a slate. “There are,” observes Mr. Hill, “two or three fine modulations, followed by a sudden break down into the harsh grating sounds of the ungreased wheels of a heavy-loaded truck.” It is to the first of these notes that the bird before us owes his local names of Tinkling, Tintin, Clinkling, and, among the Spaniards of St. Domingo, Chinchiling.
Like the Ani, the Tinkling feeds on the parasites of cattle. Walking among them, and mounting on their backs, they pick off the ticks that so sadly infest the poor beasts, who, as if appreciating the service, offer not the slightest molestation to their kind friends. I one day observed a Tinkling thus engaged in feeding her offspring. It was in the picturesque pasture of Peter’s Vale, where kine were numerous. Beneath the grateful shade of a spreading mango, in the heat of the day, a cow was peacefully ruminating. At her feet was the old Tinkling, walking round and looking up at her, with an intelligent eye. Presently she espied a tick upon the cow’s belly, and leaping up, seized it in her beak. Then marching to her sable offspring, who stood looking on a few yards off, she proceeded to deliver the savoury morsel into the throat of her son, who had gaped to the utmost stretch of his throat in eager expectation, even before his mother was near him. This done, she returned, and again walking round, scrutinized the animal’s body, but discovering nothing more, flew up on the cow’s back and commenced an investigation there. Just at this moment something alarmed her, and both mother and son flew to a distant tree. It was at the same time, and in the same pasture, that I observed a number of these birds collected in a large bastard-cedar that overhung a shallow pool; to which one and another were continually descending, and bathing with great apparent enjoyment; after which each flew to a sunny part of the tree, and fluttered and pecked, and ruffled its plumage, that it might dry smoothly and equally.
Mr. Hill has observed at Fort Dauphin, on the north side of St. Domingo, the Tinkling feeding in flocks of two hundred or more. The low grounds around the harbour, consisting of many shallow marly hollows are overflowed by the tide, after the prevalence of strong north winds, reducing them to marshes. Many marine mollusca, &c. congregating in these hollows, are left, by the water evaporating, to putrefy: the vicinity is hence very unhealthy, but hither the Tinklings resort in large flocks to feed on the decaying animal matters, with which the mud is filled. And in Jamaica, my friend has witnessed flocks of these birds equally numerous, winging their way, in March, towards Passage Fort, an embouchure subject to a similar inundation, on which they appeared to descend.
The food of our Grakle I believe to consist almost, if not quite exclusively, of insects, worms, &c. Yet I have seen one in March eating a Seville orange on the tree, tugging out large portions of the pulp, and swallowing them. But the stomach of this very specimen, which I shot in the act, was full of comminuted insects. As it was in the midst of very dry weather, the object may have been the quenching of its thirst. Robinson in describing the Corato, (Agave keratto) notices a fondness of this bird for its nectar, which may perhaps be similarly explained. He says of this magnificent plant, (MSS. I. 76.) “the flowering stem begins to rise about Christmas, and in the beginning of March, the flowers open. The Mocking-birds are fond of the honey found at the base of this flower; the Barbadoes Blackbirds are also fond of it, and between these birds happen great dissensions and bickerings. If the Blackbirds, which are naturally very loquacious, would fare well, and hold their tongues, they might feed unmolested. But their incessant chattering attracts the attention of the Mock-birds, who having at that time young ones, and being doubly jealous, assault the Blackbirds with great fierceness and vigour, soon obliging them to quit the plant, and hide themselves among the trees and bushes.”
Of two which I shot in January, the stomach of one presented a singular appearance, being stuffed with green herbage, like very fine grass, chopped excessively small. I had noticed several caterpillars among the mass, but it was not until I dispersed it in water, that I discovered it to consist of the contents of the caterpillars’ stomachs, expressed by the muscular action of the gizzard. There were no less than nineteen caterpillars, all smooth, and I think grass-eating kinds, some of which still contained portions of comminuted herbage. The stomach of the other contained about as many caterpillars, besides other larvæ, some spiders, a moth, and other insects.
Regularly at nightfall, during the summer, I used to see many parties of Tinklings fly over Bluefields, with the usual vociferation, and wend their way to a spreading cotton-tree near the seaside, where, I was informed, they slept; whence, as regularly one might see them, in the early morning, emerging and dispersing to their places of diurnal occupation. One evening I went down to watch their arrival and proceedings. About half-an-hour before sunset, they began to arrive in straggling parties, but did not proceed at once to their roosting place, but congregated in a clump of smaller trees, about one hundred and fifty yards from it, on the banks of Bluefields River, where they clamoured in all sorts of metallic tones with unceasing vociferation. Some parties from a distance, coming straight to the roost, suddenly altered their course, attracted by the calls of these intermediate settlers, and joined them, and some even returned to them, which had already passed the spot. A few, however, went on to their destination, and when once some were there, their numbers soon increased, for the calling now proceeded from both quarters. As the parties arrived, one or two single birds kept flying from one station to the other, backwards and forwards. At length the whole assembled number on the intermediate station rose as by common consent, and flew in an immense flock to the number of nearly two hundred, to the roosting place, darkening the air, and making a loud rushing with their united wings. Others went on to arrive, until between four and five hundred, (I could not count very accurately) had assembled. Long before this, however, I had found that the real roosting place was not the large cotton-tree, that this was but another station of congregation, for as the evening advanced, they began to leave this, and to perch on the fronds of four or five cocoa-nut palms that were growing in two lines, of which the cotton-tree was the angle. The nearest trees to this point were first chosen, and few chose the second, till the first was pretty well crowded, nor the third till the second was occupied, and finally the numbers on each cocoa-nut were in proportion to its proximity to the central point.