Birds in Flight

by W. P. Pycraft

Gold Crested Wrens

In the straggling hedgerows of the wooded districts of south and central England, and in Wales, one may often come across the red-backed shrike; a very handsome bird, with pointed wings, long tail, and low swooping flights. His red back will alone distinguish him. No other British bird wears such a mantle. And this is set off by a grey crown and nape, and black patches on the sides of the head. The topmost twig of a bush, or hedge, where he can sight his prey from afar, are his favourite perches. On the east coast of England, during the autumn, one may sometimes see the great-grey shrike, distinguished readily by his large size, fan-shaped tail, and grey coloration, relieved by black ear-coverts, black wings and tail, “blazed” with white, and white under-parts. His flight is undulating and irregular, while just before alighting he gives a peculiar upward sweep.

Strangely enough, not only country boys and girls, but their fathers and mothers, not only confuse swallows and martins with one another, but these with the swift! Yet they are readily distinguishable. All, it is true, have long, pointed wings, and forked tails: but their coloration is very different. The swallow has the most deeply forked tail of them all, and his steel-blue back, red throat, and rufous buff-and-cream under parts are unmistakable identification marks. The martin may be distinguished at once by the conspicuous white rump patch, and pure white under-parts. These are the signs by which they may be recognized when on the wing—and they are more often seen thus than at rest. The sand-martin is a much smaller bird, has a less markedly forked tail, and is of a uniform pale brown above, and white below, but with a brown band across the chest. The swift is not even related to the swallow-tribe. On the wing—and very few people ever see him otherwise—he is very different. The wing-beat is extremely rapid and intermittent. While in its shape the wing differs in its extreme length and narrowness. The flight is extremely swift—hence the name of the bird. Not its least impressive feature is its wonderful flexibility. Who has not watched, with delight, a troop of these birds sweeping down the village street, now skimming the ground, now sweeping upward and away, round the church tower, accompanied by wild, exultant screams, as though they were bubbling over with vitality. When high up they look like so many animated bows and arrows—the arrows being, perhaps, somewhat short and thick. The swift, it is worth remembering, is a near kinsman of the humming-bird, which also has a long narrow wing. Both alike agree in this peculiarity—an upper arm bone of excessive shortness, and a hand of excessive length. No other birds approach them in this. The only other bird which has wings quite so ribbon-like, when extended, is the albatross—one of our rarest British birds. But here the proportions of the wing are reversed, for the upper arm bone is of great length, while the hand is relatively short.

There is something inexpressibly soothing about the twilight of a summer’s evening. Most birds are abed. The swift can be heard high up, the “woolly bats, with beady eyes” are silently flitting all round one, turning and twisting as no bird ever turns. But for the chorus of the swifts, like black furies, and heard only at intervals, and faintly, all is silence, relieved, perchance, by the drowsy hum of a blundering dor-beetle. Then, suddenly, if one be near some gorse, or bracken covered common, the stillness is broken by a strange “churring,” like a bubbling whistle, rising and falling in volume. This may be followed by a loud "clap". And yet the source of these strange notes cannot be located, nor can any living thing be seen to which they could be attributed. But keep careful watch. Presently there may emerge from the gathering gloom a long-winged, long-tailed bird, travelling at speed, with a twisting flight, and deliberate wing-beats, alternating with long glide on motionless pinions. As it passes one may notice white spots on wings and tail. This is the night-jar: a bird of ill omen among the aged inhabitants of the country-side, for they will assure you that it is guilty of sucking the milk of cows and goats. Hence, it is commonly known as the “goatsucker.” Poor bird, it is quite innocent of such misdeeds, for though it has an enormous mouth, armed on either side with long bristles, it feeds only on moths and beetles.

If you are fortunate, your vigil in the gloaming may be rewarded by a sight of yet other night-birds. Out of some hollow tree, or swooping round the barn, may come a ghostly form, borne on absolutely silent wings: but with a reeling, bouyant flight, which is unmistakable—this is the barn owl. If you are very fortunate, you may hear its blood-curdling screech. Once heard you will never forget it! His cousin, the tawny owl, it is whose musical, if doleful “hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-o” has so commonly been misrepresented by poets—and others—as “to-whit-tu-woo.” Its flight is slower and its wings rounder than in the barn owl, and furthermore, it lacks the glistening satin-white under-parts of that bird. But its coloration and general appearance are well-shown in the coloured illustration.

The other species of owls we may reckon as fairly common residents with us. They are the long and the short-eared owls. But they are very rarely to be seen on the wing in daylight. Each has the habit, when excited, of bringing the wings together smartly over the back, so as to produce a sound likened by some to the word “bock.”

Few birds have figured so largely in our literature, perhaps, as the cuckoo. Though heard by all, he is seen by few: and this because so many people fail to recognize the charming wastrel when they see him. In general appearance he recalls the sparrow-hawk. I have known even game-keepers confuse the two. But the cuckoo is much paler on the back, and the bars of the breast are finer. On the wing he is much slower than the sparrow-hawk; his wings are shorter, and his tail is tipped with white. Immature birds may be recognized by their clove-brown coloration, and a large white patch at the nape of the neck.

One of the most brilliantly coloured of all our native birds is the kingfisher. Small streams and quiet pools are its favourite haunts. A glance will suffice to identify it at close quarters, but even if one catches sight of its fleeting form at too great a distance to see its wonderful coloration, it can be distinguished by its extremely rapid and direct flight, and curiously shuttle-shaped form: an appearance due to the shortness of its tail, as may be seen by a reference to the excellent coloured Plate.