WOUNDED PICKIETAR RESCUED.
“While matters were in this position, I beheld to my utter astonishment and surprise, two of the unwounded Terns take hold of their disabled comrade, one at each wing, lift him out of the water, and bear him out seawards. They were followed by two other birds. After being carried about six or seven yards, he was let gently down again, when he was taken up in a similar manner by the two who had been hitherto inactive. In this way they continued to carry him alternately, until they had conveyed him to a rock at a considerable distance, upon which they landed him in safety. Having recovered my self-possession, I made toward the rock, wishing to obtain the prize which had been so unceremoniously snatched from my grasp. I was observed, however, by the Terns; and instead of four, I had in a short time a whole swarm about me. On my near approach to the rock, I once more beheld two of them take hold of the wounded bird as they had done already, and bear him out to sea in triumph, far beyond my reach. This, had I been so inclined, I could no doubt have prevented. Under the circumstances, however, my feelings would not permit me; and I willingly allowed them to perform without molestation an act of mercy, and to exhibit an instance of affection, which man himself need not be ashamed to imitate. I was, indeed, rejoiced at the disappointment which they had occasioned, for they had thereby rendered me the witness of a scene which I could scarcely have believed, and which no length of time will efface from my recollection.”
CLOSENESS OF OBSERVATION.
On another occasion, Edward exhibited the same closeness, minuteness, and patience of observation, with regard to the Turnstone (Strepsilas interpres), a bird which is an inhabitant of the sea-shore, and has a wide geographical range, though it has rarely been seen on the shores of the Moray Firth. In Edward’s ornithological excursions, it was not so much his object to kill birds as to observe their manners and habits. He very often made his excursions without a gun at all. In a letter to the author, he observes—“In looking over my printed articles, you will find a great number of notices of the habits and workings of various species. I spent so much time in observation, that I had little time to spare to write out the results. And what I did write, did not seem to be much appreciated. Perhaps this is not to be wondered at. It appears that the compilers of works on Natural History in this country do not care for details of the habits of the animals they treat of. They rather glory in the abundance of technical descriptions they can supply. These may seem scientific, but they are at the same time very dry. In fact, Natural History is rendered detestable to general readers. We want some writers of the Audubon and Wilson class to render Natural History accessible to the public at large.”
THE TURNSTONE.
If Edward himself could have been rescued from his shoemaker’s seat, we might probably have had the book which he indicates. He was full of love for his subject; he was patient and persevering in his observations; and, notwithstanding his great disadvantages, it will be observed that his style of writing was vivid and graphic. With respect to the Turnstone, which Edward described in 1850,[42] it does not appear that any ornithological writer, excepting Audubon, had particularly described it; although Edward had never read Audubon’s work. The Reverend Mr. Smith observed—“It is consistent with my knowledge that Mr. Edward has never read the account given by Audubon of the habits of the Turnstone. I mention this as a proof, amongst others, of the accuracy and minuteness with which he makes his observations. He is the only European, so far as I have the means of ascertaining, who has described the efforts which are put forth by the bird in question in cases of difficulty, not only with its bill, but with its breast also.” The following is Edward’s description of the bird:—
DESCRIPTION OF TURNSTONE.
“The Turnstone is a very interesting bird, from its peculiar form and singular habits. It is a strong thick bird, with rather short thick legs, long expanded toes, and full broad breast. Its bill is in the form of an elongated cone, strong at the base, on the culmen rather flattened, and with a curve inclining upwards towards the tip. The habits of the bird are singular, more particularly with respect to the method which it adopts to procure food,—which is, as its name denotes, by turning over small stones in search of the insects beneath them, on which it feeds. When the object which it wishes to turn over is too large for the bill to do so, the breast is applied; and it would seem that the birds are willing to assist each other, just as masons or porters will do in turning over a stone or a bale of goods. I may here take the liberty of mentioning an incident concerning the Turnstone which came under my own observation.
OBSERVATION OF THE TURNSTONE.
“Passing along the sea-shore to the west of Banff, I observed on the sands, at a considerable distance before me, two birds beside a large-looking object. Knowing by their appearance, that they did not belong to the species which are usually met with in this quarter, I left the beach and proceeded along the adjoining links, an eminence of shingle intervening, until I concluded that I was almost opposite to the spot where the objects of my search were employed. Stooping down, and with my gun upon my back prepared for action, I managed to crawl through the bents and across the shingle for a considerable way. At length I came in sight of the two little workers, who were busily endeavouring to turn over a dead fish which was fully six times their size. I immediately recognised them as Turnstones. Not wishing to disturb them, and anxious at the same time to witness their operations, I observed that a few paces nearer them, there was a deep hollow among the shingle, where I contrived to creep into unobserved.