The Domestic Turkey. The Wild Turkey was first carried to Europe and other parts of the eastern continent and domesticated in the 16th century. It is now extensively diffused over the world, and its flesh is ranked among the most delicious poultry. The cock is a noisy fellow, strutting about, and displaying his plumage with great ostentation; he is also very quarrelsome. The hen seems to possess a more modest and retiring disposition, wandering about the fields with a melancholy and dejected air, occasionally uttering a short plaintive note. She is exceedingly attached to her young, but leads them away from danger without ever attempting to defend them by repelling an attack.
The Sagacity of the Turkey. Of the sagacity of the Turkey Audubon says: "While at Henderson, on the Ohio, I had a fine male turkey, which had been reared from its earliest youth under my care. It became so tame that it would follow any person who called it, and was the favourite of the little village. Yet it would never roost with the tame turkeys; but regularly betook itself at night to the roof of the house, where it remained till dawn. When two years old it began to fly to the woods, where it remained for a considerable part of the day, and returned to the enclosure as night approached. It continued this practice until the following spring, when I saw it several times fly from its roosting-place to the top of a high cotton-tree on the bank of the Ohio, from which, after resting a little, it would sail to the opposite shore, the river being there nearly half a mile wide, and return towards night. One morning I saw it fly off, at a very early hour, to the woods in another direction, and took no particular notice of the circumstance. Several days elapsed, but the bird did not return. I was going towards some lakes near Green River, to shoot, when, having walked about five miles, I saw a fine large gobbler cross the path before me, moving leisurely along. Turkeys being then in prime condition for the table, I ordered my dog to chase it and put it up. The animal went off with great rapidity, and as it approached the turkey, I saw, with great surprise, that the latter paid little attention. Juno was on the point of seizing it, when she suddenly stopped, and turned her head towards me. I hastened to them; but you may easily conceive my surprise when I saw my own favourite bird, and discovered that it had recognised the dog, and would not fly from it, although the sight of a strange dog would have caused it to run off at once. A friend of mine, being in search of a wounded deer, took the bird on his saddle before him, and carried it home for me. The following spring it was accidentally shot, having been taken for a wild bird, and brought to me, on being recognised by the red ribband which it had round its neck."
Sitting Turkey Cocks. The male Turkey is said to be but an indifferent father, but there are some curious illustrations on record of his displaying maternal instincts. Captain Brown tells of a cock Turkey near Abingdon who manifested a desire to sit and was allowed to experiment with thirteen eggs, from which in three weeks he hatched twelve fine chickens. A precisely similar incident occurred many years ago in Sweden, according to the same authority.
Domestic Fowls. The Domestic Fowls are too well known to need description here. They are said to have descended from the Java species and have long been the subjects of systematic and careful culture. John Guillim who wrote in 1677 and whose quaint description of the peacock we have already quoted, says: "As some account the eagle the queen, and the swallow or wagtail the lady, so may I term this (the cock) the knight amongst birds, being both of noble courage, and also prepared evermore to the battel, having his comb for an helmet, his sharp and hooked bill for a faulchion or court-lax, to slash and wound his enemy: and as a compleat soldier armed cap-a-pe, he hath his legs armed with spurs, giving example to the valiant soldier to expell danger by fight, and not by flight. The cock croweth when he is victor and giveth a testimony of his conquest. If he be vanquished, he shunneth the light, and society of men." The cock is a courageous bird and in fighting with his own kind or in the defence of his family will show great gallantry and endurance. Buffon thus describes an encounter of which he was an observer. He says: "I have just witnessed a curious scene. A sparrow hawk alighted in a populous court-yard; when a young cock, of this year's hatching, instantly darted at him, and threw him on his back. In this situation, the hawk defending himself with his talons and his bill, intimidated the hens and turkeys, which streamed tumultuously around him. After having a little recovered himself, he rose and was taking wing; when the cock rushed upon him a second time, upset him, and held him down so long, that he was easily caught by a person who witnessed the conflict." The cock is said to show many of the qualities which belong to knighthood. He is jealous, and has been known to kill a hen which has hatched a foreign brood; and he is chivalrous both in the treatment of his hens and in their defence against their enemies. He has a sense of justice too, which he does not hesitate to assert on occasion. Mrs. Bowdich says: "On one occasion I saw a cock pursue a hen round the poultry-yard; and, as she had a worm in her bill, I at first thought he was so acting from a greedy desire to have the delicious morsel; but when he at last caught her, he gave her a knock on the head with his beak, and, taking up the worm which she had dropped, brought it to another hen, who stood witnessing the affray in mute expectation. A further knowledge of the habits of these birds has made me feel sure she had purloined the worm from the other, and the cock had restored it to its rightful owner." Though natural fighters, cocks sometimes form friendships for each other, and Captain Brown records an instance of two game cocks, belonging to the same owner, who obstinately declined combat though all means were tried to excite mutual animosity. These same birds when placed in the ring with other cocks fought furiously, and in both cases destroyed their antagonists.
The Common Hen. The hen gathering her chickens under her wings is a favourite type of motherhood, and it cannot be denied that in many ways the hen shows herself a model parent. The care she will expend upon her brood, or upon a brood of ducks which she may have hatched, is well known, and the courage she will show in their defence is well attested. The following from the "Percy Anecdotes" is an illustration of this: "In June, 1820, a contest of rather an unusual nature took place in the house of Mr. Collins, at Naul in Ireland. The parties concerned were, a hen of the game species, and a rat of the middle size. The hen, in an accidental perambulation round a spacious room, accompanied by an only chicken, the sole surviving offspring of a numerous brood, was roused to madness by an unprovoked attack made by a voracious rat, on her unsuspecting companion. The shrieks of the beloved captive, while dragged away by the enemy, excited every maternal feeling in the affectionate bosom of the feathered dame: she flew at the corner whence the alarm arose, seized the lurking enemy by the neck, writhed him about the room, put out one of his eyes in the engagement, and so fatigued her opponent by repeated attacks of spur and bill, that in the space of twelve minutes, during which time the conflict lasted, she put a final period to the invader's existence; nimbly turned round, in wild but triumphant distraction, to her palpitating nestling, and hugged it in her victorious bosom." In this same work there is a story of a hen, near Exeter, which devoted itself with much assiduity and success to catching mice. Hens often take to other animals and have been known to show great attachment to kittens, and to dogs, instances being recorded of hens living in dogs' kennels and laying their eggs there under canine protection. The concern shown by hens, when the ducks they may have hatched take to the water, is very amusing. Captain Brown gives an instance of a hen which had become used to this phenomena, from having been employed in hatching successive broods of ducks, and which showed equal concern when a brood of her own chickens avoided the watery element.
ORDER VI.
The Hoazin. The Hoazin is the only bird of this order. It belongs to Brazil and Guiana and is nearly as large as the peacock. It has been variously classified but, differing in important characteristics from any other bird, it is deemed best to place it in an order by itself.
ORDER VII.
Birds of Prey. This order includes the Vultures, Condors, Eagles, Kites, Falcons, Goshawks, Sparrowhawks, Buzzards, Kestrals, Owls, &c., &c. Interesting as many of these birds are the briefest possible mention is all that we can give of some of them.
The Eagle. Whatever may be said of the claims of other birds, the Eagle is traditionally the king of the air, as the lion is king of the forest. There are a large number of species of which the Golden Eagle, the Spotted Eagle, the Imperial Eagle and the White-headed Sea Eagle are among the best known varieties. The Golden Eagle belongs to Europe and America, and is sometimes found in Scotland and Ireland. It lives upon smaller birds and animals: hares, young lambs and deer, grouse, plovers, &c., &c. Though the eagle has often attacked children the stories of its carrying them away are generally discredited. Eagles often hunt in pairs and show great ferocity and determination in attacking their prey.
Eagle Shooting. Mr. St. John gives the following description of a shooting expedition in which he bagged a pair of splendid birds. "On a very dark morning I sallied out with Malcolm to take a shot at the eagles, and at last I was ensconced in a hiding-place (near the dead body of a sheep) which gave me hardly room to stand, sit, or lie. It was scarcely grey dawn when a bird with a slow, flapping flight passed, and alighted out of sight, but near, for I heard him strike the ground, and my heart beat faster. What was my disappointment, when his low, crowing croak announced a raven; he hopped and walked suspiciously round the sheep, till, supposing the coast clear, he hopped upon the carcase, and began with his cut and thrust beak to dig at the meat. Another raven soon joined him, and then two more, who, after a kind of parley, were admitted to their share of the banquet. They suddenly set up a croak of alarm, stopped feeding, and all turned their knowing eyes in one direction. At that moment I heard a sharp scream, but very distant. The black party heard it too, and instantly darted off, alighting again at a little distance. Next came a rushing noise, and the monarch of the clouds lighted at once on the sheep. He quietly folded up his wings, and, throwing back his magnificent head, looked round at the ravens, as if wondering at their impudence in approaching his breakfast; they kept a respectful silence, and hopped further away. The royal bird then turned his head in my direction, his bright eye that instant catching mine, as it glanced along the barrel of my gun. He rose, I drew the trigger, and he fell quite dead six yards from the sheep. As one eagle is always followed by a second, I remained quiet, in hopes that his mate was not within hearing of my shot. I had not waited many minutes when I saw the other eagle skimming low over the brow of the hill towards me. She did not alight at once, but her eye catching the dead body of her mate, she wheeled up into the air. I thought she was lost to me, when presently I heard her wings brush close over my head, and she wheeled round and round the dead bird, turning her head downwards to make out what had happened. At times she stooped so low that I could see the sparkle of her eye, and hear her low, complaining cry. I watched the time when she turned up her wing towards me, and dropped her actually on the body of the other. She rose to her feet, and stood gazing at me with a reproachful look, and would have done battle, but death was busy with her, and as I was loading in haste she reeled, and fell perfectly dead."
The White-Headed Eagle. The white-headed or bald eagle, is a native of North America, and feeds equally on the produce of the sea and of the land, but is particularly fond of fish. "In procuring these," says Wilson, "he displays in a very singular manner the genius and energy of his character, which is fierce, contemplative, daring and tyrannical, attributes not exerted but on particular occasions, but when put forth overwhelming all opposition." "Elevated," says Wilson, in his "American Ornithology," "on the high dead limb of some gigantic tree, that commands a high view of the neighbouring shore and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions of the various feathered tribes that pursue their busy avocations below; the snow-white gulls, slowly winnowing the air; the busy tringæ, coursing along the sands; trains of ducks streaming over the surface; silent and watchful cranes, intent and wading; clamorous crows; and all the winged multitude that subsist by the bounty of this vast liquid magazine of nature. High over all these hovers one, whose action instantly arrests all attention. By his wide curvature of wing, and sudden suspension in the air, he knows him to be the fish-hawk, settling over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and balancing himself with half-opened wings on the branch, he watches the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his attention, the roar of its wings reaching the ear as it disappears in the deep, making the surges foam around! At this moment the looks of the eagle are all ardour; and levelling his neck for flight, he sees the fish-hawk once more emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting into the air with screams of exultation. This is the signal for the eagle, who, launching in the air, instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the fish-hawk; each exerts his utmost power to mount above the other, displaying in these rencontres the most elegant and sublime aërial evolutions. The unencumbered eagle rapidly advances, and is just on the point of reaching his opponent, when with a sudden scream, probably of despair and honest execration, the latter drops his fish; the eagle poising himself for a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp ere it reaches the water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silently away into the woods."