Rhodes possesses no eagles. In Italy beyond the Padus, there is, near the Alps, a lake known by the name of Larius, beautifully situated amid a country covered with shrubs; and yet this lake is never visited by storks, nor are they ever known to come within eight miles of it; while in the neighboring territory of the Insubres there are immense flocks of magpies and jackdaws, the only bird that is guilty of stealing gold and silver, a very singular propensity.
It is said that in the territory of Tarentum, the woodpecker of Mars is never found. It is only lately, and that very rarely, that various kinds of pies have begun to be seen in the districts that lie between the Apennines and the City. These birds are remarkable for the length of the tail and for the peculiarity of becoming bald every year at the time of sewing rape. The partridge does not fly beyond the frontiers of Bœotia, into Attica; nor does any bird, in the island in the Black Sea in which Achilles was buried, enter the temple there consecrated to him. In the territory of Fidenæ, in the vicinity of the City, the storks have no young nor do they build nests: but vast numbers of ringdoves arrive from beyond sea every year in the district of Volaterræ. At Rome, neither Hies nor dogs ever enter the temple of Hercules in the Cattle Market. There are numerous other instances of a similar nature in reference to all kinds of animals, which from time to time I feel myself prompted by prudent considerations to omit, lest I should only weary the reader.
There is another remarkable fact, too, relative to the birds which give omens by their note; they generally change their color and voice at a certain season of the year, and suddenly become quite altered in appearance; a thing that, among the larger birds, happens with the crane only, which grows black in its old age. From black, the blackbird changes to a reddish color, sings in summer, chatters in winter, and about the summer solstice loses its voice; when a year old, the beak also assumes the appearance of ivory; but only in the case of the male. In summer, the thrush is mottled about the neck, but in winter it becomes of one uniform color all over.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE NIGHTINGALE.
The song of the nightingale is to be heard, without intermission, for fifteen days and nights, continuously, when the foliage is thickening, as it bursts from the bud; a bird which deserves our admiration in no slight degree. First of all, what a powerful voice it has in so small a body! its note, how long, and how well sustained! And then, too, it is the only bird the notes of which are modulated in accordance with the strict rules of musical science. At one moment, as it sustains its breath, it will prolong its note, and then at another, will vary it with different inflections; then, again, it will break into distinct chirrups, or pour forth an endless series of roulades. Then it will warble to itself, while taking breath, or disguise its voice in an instant; while sometimes, again, it will twitter to itself, now with a full note, now with a grave, now again sharp, now with a broken note, and now with a prolonged one. Sometimes, when it thinks fit, it will break out into quavers, and will run through, in succession, alto, tenor, and bass: in a word, in so tiny a throat is to be found all the melody that the ingenuity of man has ever discovered through the medium of the invention of the most exquisite flute: so, that there can be no doubt it was an infallible presage of his future sweetness as a poet, when one of these creatures perched and sang on the infant lips of the poet Stesichorus.
No doubt there is a remarkable degree of art in its performances, for every individual has a number of notes peculiar to itself; they do not, all of them, have the same, but each, certain melodies of its own. They vie with one another, and the spirit with which they contend is evident to all. Often the one that is vanquished, dies in the contest, preferring to yield its life rather than its song. The younger birds are listening, in the mean time, and receive the lesson in song from which they are to profit. The learner hearkens with the greatest attention, and repeats what it has heard, and then they are silent by turns; this is understood to be the correction of an error on the part of the scholar, and a sort of reproof, as it were, on the part of the teacher. Nightingales bring as high a price as slaves, and sometimes more than used formerly to be paid for a man in a suit of armor.
I know that on one occasion six thousand sesterces ($250) was paid for a nightingale, a white one it is true, a thing that is hardly ever to be seen, for a present to Agrippina, the wife of the Emperor Claudius. A nightingale has been often seen that will sing at command, and take alternate parts with the music that accompanies it; men, too, have been found who could imitate its note with such exactness, that it would be impossible to tell the difference, by merely putting water in a reed held crosswise, and then blowing into it, a languette being first inserted, for the purpose of breaking the sound and rendering it more shrill. But these modulations, so clever and so artistic, begin gradually to cease at the end of the fifteen days; not that you can say, however, that the bird is either fatigued or tired of singing; but, as the heat increases, its voice becomes altogether changed, and possesses no longer either modulation or variety of note. Its color, too, becomes changed, and at last, throughout the winter, it totally disappears. The tongue of the nightingale is not pointed at the tip, as in other birds. It lays at the beginning of the spring, six eggs at the most.
CHAPTER XV.
THE HALCYONS: THE HALCYON DAYS THAT ARE FAVORABLE TO NAVIGATION.
This bird is a little larger than a sparrow, and the greater part of its body is of an azure blue color, with a slight intermixture of white and purple in some of the larger feathers, while the neck is long and slender. There is one kind that is remarkable for its larger size and its note; the smaller ones are heard singing in the reed-beds. It is a thing of very rare occurrence to see a halcyon, and then it is only about the time of the setting of the Vergiliæ, and the summer and winter solstices; when one is sometimes to be seen to hover about a ship, and then immediately disappear. They hatch their young at the time of the winter solstice, from which circumstance those days are known as the “halcyon days:” during this period the sea is calm and navigable, the Sicilian sea in particular. They make their nest during the seven days before the winter solstice, and sit the same number of days after. Their nests are truly wonderful;[176] they are of the shape of a ball slightly elongated, have a very narrow mouth, and bear a strong resemblance to a large sponge. It is impossible to cut them asunder with iron, and they are only to be broken with a strong blow, upon which they separate, just like foam of the sea when dried up. It has never yet been discovered of what material they are made; some persons think that they are formed of sharp fish-bones, as it is on fish that these birds live. They enter rivers also; their eggs are five in number.
The sea-mew builds its nest in rocks, and the diver in trees as well.