CHAPTER X.
STORKS AND SWANS.
Up to the present time it has not been ascertained from what place the storks come, or whither they go when they leave us. There can be no doubt but that, like the cranes, they come from a very great distance, the cranes being our winter, the storks our summer, guests. When about to take their departure, the storks assemble at a stated place, and are particularly careful that all shall attend, so that not one of their kind may be left behind, with the exception of such as may be in captivity or tamed; and then on a certain day they set out, as though they were by some law directed to do so. No one has ever yet seen a flight of cranes taking their departure, although they have been often observed preparing to depart; and in the same way, too, we never see them arrive. Both their departure and their arrival take place in the night. In some of the vast plains of Asia, they assemble together, keep up a gabbling noise, and tear to pieces the one that happens to arrive the last; after which they take their departure. After the middle of August, they are never by any accident to be seen there.
Some writers assure us that the stork has no tongue. So highly are they esteemed for their utility in destroying serpents, that in Thessaly, it was a capital crime for any one to kill a stork, and by the laws the same penalty was inflicted for it as for homicide.
STORK.—Ciconia Alba.
Geese and swans travel in a similar manner, but are seen to take their flight. The flocks, forming a point like a harrow, much after the manner of our Liburnian beaked galleys, move along with great impetus, being thus able to cleave the air more easily than if they presented to it a broad front. The flight gradually enlarges in the rear, in the form of a wedge, presenting a vast surface to the breeze, as it impels them onward; those that follow place their necks on those that go before, while the leading birds, as they become weary, fall to the rear. Storks return to their former nests, and the young, in their turn, support their parents when old. It is stated that at the moment of the swan’s death, it gives utterance to a mournful song;[173] but this is an error, in my opinion. These birds will eat the flesh of one another.
CHAPTER XI.
FOREIGN BIRDS WHICH VISIT US.
Having spoken of the emigration of these birds over sea and land, I cannot allow myself to defer mentioning some other birds of smaller size, which have the same natural instinct: although in the case of those which I have already mentioned, their very size and strength would almost seem to invite them to such habits. The quail, which always arrives among us before the crane, is a small bird, which more commonly keeps to the ground than flies aloft. These birds fly in a similar manner to those I have already spoken of, and not without considerable danger to mariners, when they come near the surface of the earth: for it often happens that they settle on the sails of a ship, and that, too, always in the night, in such numbers that the vessel often sinks. These birds pursue their course along a tract of country with certain resting-places. When the south wind is blowing, they will not fly, as that wind is always humid, and apt to weigh them down, the body being so light, and their strength so very limited: and frequently we hear them make a murmuring noise as they fly, it being extorted from them by fatigue. For this reason they take to flight when the north wind is blowing, having the ortygometra[174] for their leader. The first of them that approaches the earth is generally snapped up by the hawk. When they are about to return from these parts, they always invite other birds to join their company, and the glottis, otus, and cychramus, yielding to their persuasions, take their departure along with them.
The glottis protrudes a tongue of remarkable length, from which circumstance it derives its name: at first it is quite pleased with the journey, and sets out with the greatest ardor; but very soon, when it begins to feel the fatigues of the flight, it is overtaken by regret, while at the same time it is equally as loth to return alone, as to accompany the others. Its travels never last more than a single day, for at the very first resting-place they come to, it deserts: here, too, it finds other birds, which have been left behind in a similar manner in the preceding year. The same takes place with other birds day after day. The cychramus is much more persevering, and is in such a hurry to arrive at the land which is its destination, that it arouses the quails in the night, and reminds them that they ought to be on the road.
The otus is a smaller bird than the horned owl, though larger than the owlet; it has feathers projecting like ears, which gives it its name. Some persons call it in the Latin language the “asio;” in general it is a bird fond of mimicking, a great parasite, and, in some measure, a dancer as well. Like the owlet, it is taken without any difficulty: for while one person occupies its attention, another goes behind, and catches it.