Starhawk, s. A kind of hawk.
Starling or Stare, (Sturnus vulgaris, Linn.; L’Etourneau, Buff.) s. A bird that may be taught to whistle, and articulate words.
The length of this bird is somewhat less than nine inches. The bill is straight, sharp-pointed, and of a yellowish brown; in old birds deep yellow; the nostrils are surrounded by a prominent rim; the eyes are brown; the whole plumage is dark, glossed with green, blue, purple, and copper, but each feather is marked at the end with a pale yellow spot; the wing-coverts are edged with yellowish-brown; the quill and tail-feathers dusky, with light edges; the legs are of a reddish-brown. From the striking similarity, both in form and manners, observable between this bird and its congeners, we have no scruple in removing it from its usual place, as it evidently forms a connecting link between them, and in a variety of points seems equally allied to both. Few birds are more generally known than the stare, it being an inhabitant of almost every climate; and as it is a familiar bird, and easily trained in a state of captivity, its habits have been more frequently observed than those of most other birds. The female makes an artless nest in the hollows of trees, rocks, or old walls, and sometimes in cliffs overhanging the sea; she lays four or five eggs, of a pale greenish-ash colour; the young birds are of a dusky-brown colour, till the first moult. In the winter season these birds fly in vast flocks, and may be known at a great distance by their whirling mode of flight, which Buffon compares to a sort of vortex, in which the collective body performs a uniform circular revolution, and at the same time continues to make a progressive advance. The evening is the time when the stares assemble in the greatest numbers, and betake themselves to the fens and marshes, where they roost among the reeds; they chatter much in the evening and morning, both when they assemble and disperse. So attached are they to society, that they not only join those of their own species, but also birds of a different kind, and are frequently seen in company with red-wings, fieldfares, and even with crows, jackdaws, and pigeons. Their principal food consists of worms, snails, and caterpillars; they likewise eat various kinds of grain, seeds, and berries, and are said to be particularly fond of cherries. In a confined state they eat small pieces of raw flesh, bread soaked in water, &c.; are very docile, and may easily be taught to repeat short phrases, or whistle tunes with great exactness, and in this state acquire a warbling superior to their native song.
The time to shoot starlings by wholesale is just before the dusk of the evening, when they come down to roost among the reeds. Here they assemble in swarms, that darken the air; and for some time keep up a chatter, which even surpasses that of Frenchmen in their warmest political debates.
Having swept down some dozens with your duck-gun, let their heads be immediately pulled off; as this will, in a great degree, prevent their having a bitter taste.
Starlings are very good when stewed with rice, or made into a curry.
Before I conclude under the head of starlings, I must ask leave to become my own trumpeter, in order to name a shot that I made at these birds, which will give some idea as to the manner in which they swarm together. Happening, in the early part of last winter, to have put my punt afloat on Lord Rodney’s pond, at Alresford, I loaded my new double swivel-gun with a pound of small shot in each barrel, and a little before day-light paddled across to a retired part of the pond, where the reeds were literally swarming with these birds. Having placed the punt “stern on,” so as to command the eastern light, and shoot well clear of the reeds, I gave a little signal, as previously agreed on, to Mr. Macilwain (who, with Captain Hill, was in another punt behind) to discharge both barrels of my little double gun. On hearing this report up sprung the whole army, consisting I should say of every starling in Hampshire, and making the valley echo like a peal of thunder. No sooner had they cleared the reeds than I opened my battery, and cut such a lane through them, as I could scarcely have thought possible, and the quantity of feathers which came flying back to leeward, I could compare to nothing but a fall of black snow. What number were killed and wounded we never could ascertain, from the extreme difficulty of getting the birds that fell among the reeds and quagmires, but we fairly bagged two hundred and forty-three, as fast as they could be picked up, and the workmen, when the reeds were cut down, declared that they found between two and three hundred more; for this, however, I have only their word, though there is no reason to doubt it, as we all felt confident that at least five hundred fell in this one volley.—Bewick—Hawker.