UC-NR . ("OHM* THE NATURALIST IN SILURIA. FRONTISPIECE. THE NATURALIST IN SILURIA (HEREFORDSHIRE, RADNORSHIRE, BRECKNOCKSHIRE ASD GLAMORGANSHIRE). BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, Author of " Th Scalp Hunters," " Tto Death Shot." rfa. THE MARTIN. PHILADELPHIA : GEBBIE & CO, 1890. Copyrighted, 1890, by GEBBIE & Co. PUBLISHERS' PREFACE TO THE NATURALIST IN SILURIA. THIS new book is a departure from the class of literature by which Captain Reid made his name famous. It was left in MS. at his death in 1883, and not until 1889 did his widow place it in the hands of a publisher. Any careful reader of Captain Mayne Reid's Tales of Adventures will have discovered that his strongest point is his vigorous and accurate description of Natural Scenery : Therefore, when he retired from his travels and London Society to Penyard Grange, in the lovely valley of Woolhope, not far from the city of Hereford, it was only a matter of course that the old Indian hunter should take to the woods and fields, and devote his leisure to the study of Natural History examples for which existed so abundantly in his immediate neighborhood. A more ardent lover of nature than our author it would be hard to name not even excepting the celebrated Gilbert White, of Selbourne. The district in which he made his observations is indicated in the title of his book, Siluria, concerning which we quote from Cam- den's Britannia: "Ptolemy says the Silures inhabited those countries which the Welsh call by one general name, Dehubarth, or the southern part ; branched at this day into new names Here- fordshire, Radnorshire, Brecknockshire and Glamorganshire." Professor Murchison revived the forgotten name of the tribe of ancient Britons by naming the palaeozoic rocks discovered in that locality Silurian, a term which has been adopted by all geologists in describing this particular strata no matter where discovered. GEBBIE & CO. 25262 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGB ...... Frontispiece CHAFFINCH, THE 67 CROSSBILL, THE .75 CUCKOO, THE 201 CUCKOO AND WAGTAIL . . . . . . . . 230 GREEN WOODPECKER, THE 39 GROUP OP WARBLERS 177 HERONS 232 LONG-TAILED FIELD MOUSE 211 MAGPIE, THE 86 MARTIN, THE Title Page MISSEL THRUSH, THE 66 MOLE, THE 141 MOLE'S PALACE 125 NUTHATCH, THE 35 NUTHATCH AND JAY, THE 55 RABBIT, THE . .123 RING AND ROCK DOVES 19 SQUIRREL, THE 106 WEASEL, THE 113 INTRODUCTORY. A NATURALIST'S PARADISE. I DWELL in a district of country remarkable for its rich- ness in plant and animal life ; I mean, of course, the wild and indigenous. So varied and plentiful are the species that in these respects I venture to believe there is no other part of England, or, indeed, the United Kingdom, which can at all compare with it. This profusion is chiefly due to its peculiar geological features. As will be easily understood, the geology of any particular part of the earth's surface affects the character of its botany so much that the former may appropriately be termed the parent of the latter ; while, in turn, the plant-life may be regarded as the creator and nursing-mother of all that " lives, moves, and hath being." If, for instance, some grand upheaval volcanic, plutonic, or by whatever name called have tossed to the surface a varied series of the stratified rocks which form the earth's crust, and left their tilted edges exposed to the atmosphere, there will spring up on them a varied veg tation, with animal life in like manner diversified. And it will also be obvious that the more abrupt the dip of the upheaved strata the greater will be this variety within the limits of a given district; as, of course, the sharper the angle of elevation the narrower the exposed surface of any particular stratum. Now I am living in the immediate neighbourhood of 2 The Naturalist in Siluria. more than one such upheaval ; but one so remarkable as to have a world- wide repute. For my residence is in Siluria, contiguous to that singular and symmetrical " valley of elevation " known as Woolhope. From the summit of a high wooded hill, Penyard, which rises ab- ruptly in rear of my house, I can look over the whole series of Upper Silurian rocks, from the northern edge of their upcast at Mordiford, near the city of Hereford, to their southern projection by Gorstley in Gloucestershire. There they dip under the Devonian or Old Red Sandstone, again to show upon the surface a little farther south, in the smooth-rounded dome of May Hill, standing solitary, with its crest of Scotch firs conspicuous from afar. Looking to the right or east of the Woolhope district, though still northward from my point of view on Penyard, I have before my eyes, and at less than fifteen miles of direct distance, the bold isolated chain of the Malverns, an elevation geologically remarkable as that of Woolhope itself. For while in its central axis we have all the metamorphic rocks schists, both micaceous and horn- blende, with granite, syenite, gneiss, and felstone as the Laurentian, the oldest sedimentary formation known there also is the product of Plutonic action in Trappean rocks, basalt brought to the surface in shafts and dykes volcanic too, the Raggedstone Hill at the southern ex- tremity of the range being itself an ancient crater. Again, on its western flank are the Silurian strata exposed by upheaval, and the denudation of the Old Red ; at the same time that a corresponding downfall along its eastern base a fault of possibly many miles in vertical measure- ment shows us the more recent Triassic formation over- spreading the beautiful plain or "vale" of Worcester, with a little farther off the overlying Lias, here and there Introductory. 3 rising into isolated hills, capped by the yet more recent Oolite. Still nearer, however, to my point of observation are these secondary deposits, for their western edge approaches the Paleozoic rocks not far from the foot of May Hill from me little more than a league off. Westward, and in fact all round me, extends the Old Red Sandstone, the characteristic rock of Herefordshire, as also the adjacent county of Monmouth. Its strata of 10,000 feet thickness variously composed, and not all of a red colour, as might be supposed by the misleading of a name in many places give evidence of the most violent convulsion, their dip observable at angles of every degree. Beyond doubt, throughout Herefordshire and Monmouth the Old Red was once overlain by rocks of more recent formation; certainly by the Carboniferous, whose seams still cover it in the South Wales coalfield, the Glee Hills, and Forest of Dean. Than this, to the geologist, there is no more interesting district in England I might say in all the world. For within a remarkably limited circle the view on one side embraces the whole of the upper and lower Palaeozoic rocks, with all the Mezozoic, excepting the Cretaceous; and on the other the Trias, Lias, and Oolite ; while near by, on the west, lies the valley of the Wye, rich in drifts of geological interest, and eastward the wider and more extended valley of the Severn, itself an ancient sea-bed. Turning southward, I have the Forest of Dean before my face, a tract of country singular as it is celebrated. It is, in point of fact, an elevated table-land, several hundred feet above the level of the plains around, here and there intersected by deep ravines, but on all sides presenting a facade, steep, almost precipitous. My 4 The Naturalist in Siluria. dwelling is contiguous to its northern edge, Penyard Hill being but an out-lier of it, and, though my house and grounds are on the Old Red, a cannon fired from the front door, with sufficient elevation of aim, would fling its shot over the wooded brow of the Forest, into the " lower coal measures/' But before it rolled to rest among these, the ball, obliquing upwards, would first pass over a bed of Red Conglomerate, mixed with marl and other sandstones ; next cutting across a belt of yellow sands with red marls, and sands of this same colour; then a tract of Mountain Shale and Mountain (carboniferous) Limestone ; after this, a strattfm of Millstone Grit, and another of Upper Sandstone, with seams of clay and marls; crossing the crest of this elevated plateau, and passing on finally to fall among the above-mentioned " coal measures " ; which, quoting the words of an eminent geologist, ''are a relic of the most profuse vegetation the world has ever beheld." It may seem strange that a section of country so sig- nalized in the countless ages past should still possess a character in correspondence. But it is even so, its flora being abundant beyond any other I know of. Within a circle of 20 miles radius around my house, I find between 600 and 700 species of phanerogamous plants, while the cryptogamia are alike plentiful. If the theory advanced be admitted, it would follow that the fauna is proportion- ately rich; and so, in reality, it is. As proof sufficient and, to me, rather more than satisfactory the fox and badger prey upon my poultry, assisted in their depreda- tions by the pole-cat, weasel, and stoat; while hares and rabbits crop the cabbages in my kitchen-garden. The otter bathes its sleek body in a brook an influent of the Wye which meanders through my ornamental grounds ; Introductory. 5 the water-vole (Arvic.ola amphibia) plunges in my fish- pond, and honeycombs the banks of the self-same brook that supplies it; while its congener of the land (A. agrestis) breeds in myriads over the adjoining meadows, hollowing out its nest just enough under the sward for its hairless callow young to be clear of the dangerous scythe- blade. Around the drier ditches the hedgehog searches for snails, munching these Crustacea, despite their silicious shield which is no protection against the teeth of the urchin, who swallows armour and all. The mole, " mooting " after earth worms, if not kept under by continuous trapping, makes spoil of my pasture-land, in places giving it the appearance of a ploughed field ; while the squirrel, more agile, and less destructive, lends animation to my groves and copses. Not so nice is the near companionship of the rat, he erroneously supposed to be a native of Norway, who ranges around my rick- yard, occasionally seeking entrance into barn and corn-bin, with a suspicion attached to him of not being content with a menu purely vegetarian, but having also a tooth for young chicks and ducklings. When I add to this list of indigenous mammals the mouse, dormouse, and several species of Sorex, the catalogue is pretty complete ; though I have a soupqon of a wild cat, which seems to have shown itself in the neighbourhood some months ago. I am in search of this suspicious " Tom," and if I can " tree " him will account it a triumph. The reptile world around me is represented by the usual British genera and species : two snakes and a doubtful third, the " slow-worm," sometimes called "blind-worm" (Attguis fragilis), of which last I have lately captured a specimen measuring eighteen inches in length. Batrachians abound in the shape of toads, frogs, 6 The Naturalist in Siluria. and newts, these last hideous creatures of at least two distinct species, the common or (t smooth " (Triton punc- tatus), an alligator in miniature, and the crested, or " warty " (T. cristatus), which more resembles the real Nilotic crocodile, or its congener of the Senegal. Lizards, too, are among our land reptiles, and with. these most modern naturalists class the slow-worm, which, though having some affinities with the lizard family, is certainly nearer to the serpent in habit, as it is in " personal >J appearance. Of fishes we have the usual freshwater species ; my brook and pond, however, yielding only trout, eels, min- nows, and the wicked little bullhead (Cottus gobio), which, incautiously taken up in the hand, bites like a very shark. But below, in the " wandering Wye/' the salmon, king of fish, holds court, having for his subjects a variety of finny and scaly creatures, among them the famed lam- prey, a delicate morsel, though it did prove indigestible in the stomach of a king. Insects ? Ah ! we have them in swarms, myriads ; the Wye's valley being a very garden of Eden for the entomologist, who may here fling his net over butterflies bright as summer flowers, and capture Scarabasans of hues vivid as tropic sun ever shone upon. But he had well beware when seeking them ; for t^ the dry banks " whereon the wild thyme grows " are wasps and hornets; and amid the lush vegetation of the moist Wyeside woods sings and stings the mosquito (Oulex pipiens), while the "harvest bug" (Leptus autnmnalis), a near relative of the West Indian "jigger/' if not the veritable thing it- self, though no larger than a particle of Cayenne pepper, which it ludicrously resembles, inserts its tiny nippers into the skin the result an intolerable itching. Introductory. 7 As the good host who reserved his choicest " bin " to the close of the feast, so I have kept back my best and greatest favourites the birds. Of these, the now too rare and stately heron cranes its long neck, and projects its bayonet-like beak over the afore-mentioned fish-ponds on the look-out for a speckled trout, or, it may be, a slippery eel ; while the kingfisher darts past like an arrow, showing its back of turquoise blue, the food of its selection being the smaller fry of minnows and bull- heads. In the same water the pretty moor-hen disports her- self, and with coquettish strut makes frequent prome- nades upon my lawn, fearlessly coming on over the carriage- sweep, and up to the steps of the door-porch* Nor has she the smooth turf all to herself, for the ring- dove, or cushat (Columba palumbus) also alights upon it, to look after beech-mast and acorns, occasionally accom- panied by its near congener, the stock-dove (G. cenas) ; while the more slender turtle (G. turtur) flies past, keeping farther a- field. All three have their nests near, and their cooing sounds pleasant to my ears, telling me aught but a " sorrowful tale/' On the same verdant sward the noisy jay shows itself, coming so close to the drawing-room windows that an artist seated in one of them might take the portrait of this beautiful bird ; not with the dim, damaged lustre of a stuffed specimen or caged captive, but in all the radi- ant hues of life, liberty, and action. Quite as often the green woodpecker (Picus viridis) a bird of such brilliant plumage as to have obtained the title of " English parrot " drops down upon the lawn, to do me an essen- tial service by delving its long beak into the ant-hills which infest the sward, and destroying thousands of 8 The Naturalist in Siluria. these too-industrious insects. In the woods I occasion- ally heaT the tap-tapping of his two cousins, the great and little- spotted woodpeckers (P. major and P. minor) ; but these are much rarer in the neighbourhood. Not so the magpie, here only too plentiful. He hops about among the tall fir-trees where he has nested, or makes descent upon the grass pastures, at intervals alighting on the lawn to pick up some morsel that may there have caught his eye. But the cunning chatterer remains only a moment ; for he has been guilty of " fowl " play in the poultry-yard, and, knowing it, dreads my gun. Out in the fields the carrion crow (Corvus cor one), also a foe to the chirping chicks, stalks majestically, grubbing among mole-heaps and the deposits of animal ordure, also gob- bling up field-mice ; while his cousin s-german, the rook and jackdaw, more satisfied with a vegetable diet, seek it everywhere over the ploughed and pasture lands, in concert, and consorting with, clouds of starlings. Of birds more properly called predatory there is no scarcity here. The sparrow-hawk courses low along the hedges; while the kestrel, of bolder flight, hovers aloft, as if suspended on an invisible string, at intervals chang- ing his point of aeriel observation, to hover again, or swoop down upon the prey he has marked for a meal. The buzzard (Falco buteo) is not unfrequently seen soaring over Penyard's wooded hill, and also the peregrine falcon (F. peregrinus), while the great kite (F. milvus) is a less frequent visitor. Nor are the little merlin (F. cesalori), the hobby (F. subbuteo), the hen-harrier (F. cyaneus), and even the honey buzzard (F. apivorous) unknown to our neighbourhood. The night birds of prey are here represented by the tawny and barn owls (Strix stridnla and 8. flammen)^ Introductory. 9 and others ; while the night- jar, or goat-sucker (Capri- mulgus), on equally silent wing sweeps along the wood's edge, or lights beside the sheep in pen or pasture. With singing birds I am blessed. Summer and winter the blackbird delights me with his bold lay ; the thrush making music of a more scientific strain. The lark and grey linnet also salute me throughout the diurnal hours, mingling their notes in harmony with those of the three finches chaff, bull, and gold all of which nest in the near trees and shrubberies. Among the humbler warb- lers, I can detect the twitter of several species of tits, as the blue, long-tailed, cole, and marsh ; but, though not the grandest of bird melody, perhaps pleasantest to our ear is the gentle trill of the robin, for he lets us hear it throughout the chill winter-tide, when most of the more ambitious songsters are silent. In spring, however, and throughout the summer months, we have a wandering minstrel, who pays ui an annual visit ; and while he is with us, all our other feathered musicians, if not shamed into silence, seem, at least, to feel their inferiority. For he is primo-tenore, primo-basso, soprano, contralto everything ! Need I say that this distinguished visitor is the nightingale ? Though he gives his concerts chiefly during the hours of night, and notably between mid- night and morning, yet oft are we favoured with them during broad daylight. In the early part of last summer I more than once heard his matchless strain meant, no doubt, for his mate, the " prima donna/' sitting on her nest, and for the time silent heard it in the afternoon, with a bright sun shining in the sky ! Which gives contradiction to the old song, " The nightingale, I've heard them say, Sings but at laight, and not by day,'* 10 The Naturalist in Siluria. THE GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION OP BIRDS. The purpose of this note is to point out the difficulty of determining the boundary within which certain birds may be found, especially the smaller sorts. The most assiduous observer, ever on the watch, will now and then discover a species in his immediate neighbourhood whose existence there he had never before noted nor suspected. Yet it did exist may even have nested and bred in his own grounds, within a hundred yards of his house. Were it not for their song or call-note betraying their presence, many of the migratory birds our summer visitants would come and go without the ordinary observer, and in some cases the ornithologist himself, being the wiser of it. For these are with us only when the trees are in full leaf, to screen them from curious eyes a screen most of them know the advantage of, and take. You may hear the blackcap and garden warbler giving out their dulcet notes every day, and hour after hour, yet never get sight of either of these superb song- sters, though perched upon a spray within less than a rod's length from the spot where you are standing. But it is not alone with our summer visitants that there is this difficulty of fixing the home and habitation. It also exists, to a greater or less degree, as regards the winter ones, and even our permanently resident species, who have no tree foliage to hide behind. I speak more par- ticularly of the smaller kinds, from having lately met several instances in point: by the discovery of species in my own neighbourhood, whose existence in it I had long doubted. Yet had they been there, as I now know, their presence becoming ascertained almost by accident. A bird of sparrow size, seen at a hundred, or even Introductory. 11 fifty, yards distance, needs sharp eyes for its identifi- cation ; and as the rarer sorts are usually the more shy, and keep farther off, all the more difficult is this, and, as a consequence, determining the locale of such species. THE LOCAL DISTRIBUTION OP BIRDS. That certain species are found in particular localities I may say, spots while absent from others near by, is a fact well known and seemingly singular. The reason, however, is obvious : the conditions of the places are not the same, though apparently they may be so. In one there is some sort of food seed, berry, root, or insect which is wanting in the other; and, as almost every species of bird has a predilection for some special diet, where this exists not neither will the bird. But food seems not the only attraction which deter- mines the dwelling-place of birds. Some affect the woodland shade, while others prefer the open ; and still others frequent spots of an intermediate character, neither thickly overgrown with trees, nor yet altogether treeless. Dryness, moistness, and water stagnant or running- are also influencing factors ; and so too the configuration of the ground, whether it be hilly or level, the altitude of the hills, and the exposure of their slopes in relation to the points of the compass. Certainly food is not the only thing which influences birds in their choice of habi- tat, as we have evidence in the preference shown by the common house-sparrow. A pair, or at most two pairs, of these noisy chatterers haunt around my house, and breed by it; while at every farmstead in the neighbour- hood a large flock may be seen at all times, both in sum- mer and winter. Yet there is a farmyard attached to my 12 The Naturalist in Siluria. establishment, with plenty of pickings for fhe fringiUidce. No doubt the reason for fche sparrows keeping away from my premises is because the house, outbuildings and all, is overshadowed by tall trees, and the passer domesticus prefers to perch on hawthorn bush or bare gable-end. VEGETATION ON THE OLD RED. The soil of the Old Red Sandstone seems wonderfully congenial to certain plants of the order composite. At least some strata of it are so, for in a system of rocks 10,000 feet thick, and deposited during countless ages, there must be much variety in the nature of the deposited substances. I here speak of strata high up in the system, close to the Carboniferous, but under the shales and Conglomer- ate of the Old Red itself. In my kitchen garden, whose soil is over a seam of this kind, there grow Jerusalem artichokes that remind me of the tropics, recalling a brake of bamboo cane. A six-foot man standing on the back of a sixteen-hands horse could not touch their tops with his hand upraised to its highest ; an average stalk, which I have submitted to measurement, proving to be 13 feet 3 inches without reckoning the roots and having a girth of 4| inches ! Not a bad growth for temperate zone vegetation, within a period of less than six months. I believe that both the Jerusalem artichoke and its near congener, the sunflower (Helianthus annuus), might be profitably cultivated in this district \ the former not only for its tubers, but the stalks and leaves as an article of fodder ; while the seeds of the latter are well known to be nourishing food for poultry, fowls and turkeys being alike foiid of it. Introductory. 13 In an orchard adjoining this garden, up against a dry bank at the back, I some time ago observed a thistle of such extraordinary dimensions that I placed myself along- side its stalk, to make a rough estimate of its height. The crown of my hat did not reach half-way to the top, nor anything like it ; while its stem by the base was nearly as thick as my wrist. It was one of the sort which are here commonly called " boar thistles "; but I took no exact note of the species, determined on having it home and submitting it to rule and tape. As ill luck would have it, the discovery of this vegetable giant was made on a Sunday, which caused the deferring of my intention to the following day. Then revisiting the spot, with my gardener and a grubbing tool, I had the mortification to find it gone. A right-of-way path runs by, near the bank where it grew, and some villanous trespasser, whom 3 cannot help being angry at, had taken a fancy to this gigantic carduus, torn it up by the roots, and carried it clean away. As there is no Scotchman dwelling in the immediate neighbourhood, I am puzzled about the motive of the pilferer. It may have been botanical curiosity, or only an idle freak ; though I have heard that the bird- catchers sometimes use these large thistles, limed, for the taking of goldfinches an explanation of the rape prob- able enough. It was certainly as tall as any of my arti- chokes, and the stalk near the base of much greater thickness. Besides the composite, other plants grow luxuriantly on the Old Ked. In the same garden carrots and par- snips attain the dimensions of a man's forearm ; while beet-root needs sowing late to keep it within bounds for table use. Some of my " Mexican " potatoes, planted in it this year, threw up haulms so rank and high I had the 14 The Naturalist in Siluria. curiosity to measure one. It was over seven feet in length, exclusive of tubers and rootlets, which would have made it at least six inches more. This same year, in the aforementioned orchard adjoin- ing of three acres area was reaped a crop of oats that threshed out over 200 bushels, or seventy to the acre ; this in damp soil, and under the shadow of six score apple and pear trees, all old and umbrageous, and despite the culms having been broken and " laid " by heavy rain- storms long ere the corn could ripen. When green and standing erect, they look like a sedge of bulrush. A boy sent in among them to search for a landrail's nest was buried above the head, and soon lost to my sight. Draw- ing one, I laid it alongside the measuring-rule, to find it 5 feet 3 inches in length, and thicker than the quill of a swan. So much for the fertility of the soil over the Old Ked. From all which it may be deduced that a farmer designing to take a new farm, or make the best use of his old one, should know something of geology. HOW THE YEAES VARY. No one who keeps a diary of Nature's doings can fail being struck with how they are diversified in the different years. The variation is, of course, chiefly due to atmos- pheric influences, but the operation of these is the ques- tion difficult to answer. As who can say why one winter is of the mildest, snowless, almost without frost; whilst another is of rigorous severity ? Phenomena so marked are noticed by all ; but the naturalist alone takes note of their effect on the world of living organisms, vegetable Introductory. 15 and animal ; on dead matter, too, for that is also influenced by them. As illustrating this diversity, let us take a particular district of country, as, for instance, that in which I myself dwell. Being upon the Old Red Sandstone, it is much affected by ants of several species ; so much that they are accounted a pest, the yellow ant ( Formica flava) certainly being this. In the summers of 1878-79-80 these insects swarmed upon the pastures, throwing up their " tumps," deleterious to the growth of nutritive grasses ; while during the summer of 81 only a few were observable. This seems all the more strange from the previous sum- mer being dry and warm, as one would suppose favour- able to ant life, while those preceding were the reverse. I have a somewhat similar record of the common house fly (Musca carnaria)j whose scarcity,for several years past has been notable. But though appearing early in the spring, in summer it seemed to have ceased existence, while a species much resembling, and commonly mistaken for it, the biting Stomoxys calcitrans, was unusually abundant. Again, wasps, that in several previous years did much damage in our pear orchards, and were even a source of annoyance to mowers and reapers, in the autumn of 1881 were little seen or heard of. In the spring also " blight," caused by grubs of countless kinds, so abounded that many trees notably oaks were entirely stripped of their foliage, and stood with branches bare as in winter, till the flowing of the midsummer sap gave them a fresh livery of leaves. For years before there had been little or nothing of this larval devastation. Going underground to the earthworm (Lwmbricus terres- tris), I noticed that for several years past my lawn was remarkably clear of their castings, yet in the autumn of 16 The Naturalist in Siluria 1881 they reappeared thickly over the sward, and ever since there has been a nightly renewal of them. In the ornithological world these alternations are equally observable. The blackbird and song-thrash lead an undisturbed life in my grounds, where for years past, during their season of song, there was no day, scarce even an hour, without tbe strain of one or the other being heard. But, strange to say, throughout the spring and summer of 1881 it was something unusual to hear the note of either merle or mavis ; all the stranger, from the fact of both birds seeming to be about in even more than their usual numbers. The yellow-hammer is known to be a gregarious bird; but, so far as I have observed, oftener consorting with other species than exclusively with its own kind ; even then being in the minority, its lemon-coloured crest and breast appearing in an assemblage of other fringittidw but as one to five or six. In the autumn of 1881, how- ever, and up till now, I have frequently observed flocks of yellow-hammers, numbering two to three dozen indi- viduals, in various places, and quite apart from birds of other species, their abundance seeming to me as strange as this segregation. If we turn to the starlings, we find a like variation at different periods of time. During the breeding season of the years 1878-79-80, after the eggs had been hatched, a glance cast skyward above my house and grounds was almost sure of being rewarded by the sight of a starling on return to its nest with a grub in its beak, or taking departure therefrom in quest of another. Yet in 1881 these journeyings to and fro were so seldom witnessed that it seemed as if this, one of our commonest birds, had become a rara avis ! Introductory. 17 And, as most people know, the migratory birds are more plenteous in one year than another, notably the nightingales in summer, and the fieldfares and redwings in winter. Their presence or absence, however, can be accounted for by the temperature, with other climatic changes ; and, no doubt, these are the chief influencing causes throughout all, though we are ignorant of the modus operandi. OUR WILD PIGEONS. OP all our native birds, none seem to me invested with more vivid interest than the wild pigeons. I cannot help regarding them as the greatest ornament and truest emblem of sylvan scenery ; and I never see one sitting upon a bough, or in bold, earnest flight through the air, without a sense of exquisite pleasure a feeling of thank- fulness that my home is in the country. RING AND ROCK DOVES. In addition to the physical beauty of these birds, their MORAL character if I be permitted so to speak is un- exceptionable. They are neither predatory nor poly- gamous; for the first, contenting themselves with a 19 20 The Naturalist in Silurla. simple vegetarian diet, while in their marital relations they are models of constancy and affection. No lover sues to his sweetheart in gentler or more pleading tone ; and he were a good husband who will show half the attention to his wife which the dove does to its mate. Having made use of the word dove, I may here remark that all pigeons were formerly known as doves, even the domestic variety being so called. Hence the origin of the name " dovecote/' the thing itself being in reality a pigeon-house, which in past times was an appanage of every mansion arid monastery in the land ; one of such importance, too, that statutes were enacted limiting their number, even to the right of having them at all just as our Game Laws of the present day. It was not for mere ornament or fancy, dovecotes were kept, but with a view to the more substantial benefit derived from them in supplying a^ choice article of food. They took rank with the fish-pond ; beside which they often stood, at a time when the fishmonger and poulterer had either no existence or dwelt at an inconvenient distance. When the name pigeon an Anglicized form of the Italian pigione came into general use in this country is not very clear, though now it is universally employed when speaking of the larger species of the genus cohtmba, while the original designation of dove is still retained for the smaller ones. Audubon has ventured on a distinc- tion, giving the name pigeon to those that make their nests in large numbers on the same tree ; while the dove is solitary in its nidification. The American naturalist, not always accurate, was evidently misled by the habits of the species which came under his observation a very limited number. The facts are all against his speculative Our Wild Pigeons. 21 theory, most of the European species nesting apart, and only gregarious when in search of food and the breeding season is over. I believe it is not generally understood, though of course known to naturalists, that in England we have four distinct species of the genus Columba, three of which are called pigeons, the fourth a dove. This is exclusive of the tame or House pigeon, and its numerous varieties. Of the wild sorts, the first in point of size, as the most commonly distributed, is the Queest or Quest, also called Cushat. It is the Ring-dove (Columba palumbus) of the ornithologists, a name supposed to have originated in the whitish blotch on both sides of its neck, bearing resem- blance to a ring. The similitude is very slight, and the title altogether inappropriate. More correct is its com- mon appellation "Quest," evidently a derivation from the Latin qucestus, since it is of this species Henry Kirk White speaks as oft warbling " its sorrowful tale." A noble bird it is, in symmetry of form far excelling any of the domesticated breeds, while in size it is also their superior. And as an article for the table, it not only excels the tame sorts, but if put into the hands of a cook who knows his or her business, in point of gout it equals the very best of our game birds. Give it the same treatment as a grouse, and if your palate be not regulated by fashion or caprice, you will never after care to pay 7*. the brace for moor-cocks while you can buy cushats at 2s. the pair. As for partridges, why they should sell, pound for pound, at three times as much as wild pigeons, is a question I leave to the game dealers. But one which puzzles me yet more is, that a House pigeon, also pound for pound, commands nearly double the price of its woocl-dwelling congener. As a thing to be eaten, 22 The Naturalist in Siluria. there is no comparison between the two, the wild being as much superior to the tame as a pheasant to a barn- door fowl. The quantity of food supply derived from this source is deserving of serious consideration. It is difficult, per- haps impossible, to estimate the exact amount ; but from the numbers of these birds brought into the market, and the hundreds of thousands besides that go to the table without ever having appeared on a poulterer's stall, some idea may be deduced of their commercial value. And it is worth remembering, that in this case the cost of produc- tion is altogether disproportion ed to the value produced, compared with that of barn-door fowls, or even pigeons of the domesticated kind. Tho Quest may do a little damage at seed-time and among the summer tares and peas, or, in a very severe winter, peck holes in the turnips, and eat off their tops, but the House pigeon has to be credited with the same. It has been said that the turnip diet renders the flesh of the wild species so rancid as to be unpalatable. The naturalist of Selborne first made this assertion, and it has been repeated by other writers over and over again. I have not found it correct; and during times of frost and snow I have had an excellent opportunity of testing its accuracy. Never was there better, for, by the complete failure of our usual berry crop, the wild pigeons have then had no other provender than turnips ; and although I have eaten several that were shot in the very act of feed- ing on these vegetables, I could perceive nothing of the rancidity spoken of. That the Quest is not the progenitor of our domestic birds has been generally admitted. The very different modes of their nidiftcation is ; to a certain extent, proof Our Wild Pigeons. 23 of this : the one nesting in trees, the other never. Three years ago I would have added that only the one perched upon trees, the other never. But I have of late had evi- dence that this, though in accordance with the universal belief, would be incorrect. In my stable-yard there is a proper pigeon-house, which for some time had been untenanted. Three years ago I re-stocked it with some half-dozen pairs, among which there were most of the sports or varieties of Fan- tails, Tumblers, Carriers, and the like. The pigeon quarters are in a loft over the coach-house, the entrance to them being through a network of holes in the gable, close to which grow several tall trees, beeches, limes, chestnuts, and oaks. Some days after introducing the pigeons to their new dwelling-place I was surprised to observe them perching upon the trees; not only those contiguous to the gable, but others full fifty yards off, in the ornamental grounds. Nor did it seem a mere momen- tary caprice, a dropping down upon the branches to fly instantly up again. Instead, they sat contentedly there, often for hours at a time. My servants, and all who saw them thus roosted, were as astonished as myself, saying they had never seen the like before. As several Quests were moving about among the same trees, and occasionally alighting upon them, I had hopes to see courtship and marital connections established between the wild and the tame, thus contradicting all past experience. But, no ! Beyond gazing at one another the wild birds, no doubt, the more astonished of the two, seeing their domain thus intruded upon the acquaintance went no farther. Congeners and cousins though they were, no love, affinity, or attachment sprang up between them. Qcldlv enough, after the first few weeks the House, 24 The Naturalist in Siluria. * pigeons ceased to perch upon the trees, confining them- selves to tops of walls, roofs, and chimneys ; and since I have never seen one of them set foot upon a branch. I need not here give a description of the Quest, its mode of nidification, nor its ordinary habits. All this, if not already known, can be learnt from the encyclopaedias. I will only add, that in the valley of the Wye, well wooded everywhere, it is one of our commonest birds. In spring and summer I could not gaze out of my window for twenty minutes at a time without seeing one or more sitting motionless on the branch of a tree, winging their way through the air, or it might be walking over the ground, constantly bowing or ducking their heads; from which habit they derive their Latin name columba, from the Greek kolumban, to dive. It is also the origin of their more correct appellation of dove. The Stock-dove (Columba oenas) is not so common upon the Wye, nor, I believe, anywhere in England, as the Quest. It is, however, anything but rare; and, al- though to a certain extent migratory, we have it in Herefordshire all the year round, numbers breeding in this neighbourhood. It is the species which so much puzzled the naturalist of Selborne ; and, by his account, was altogether a bird of passage in that part of the country. In speaking of it as not being the progenitor of our House pigeons, he says : (t It is manifestly larger than the common house-dove, against the usual rule of domestication, which generally enlarges the breed." The conclusion is not universally correct, as I can show by a reference to the wild turkey and its tame descendant. But in this case even the premises are in default, for the Stock-dove, so far from being larger than the House-dove, is rather less. The Eing-dove is Our Wild Pigeons. 25 certainly of greater size, and to it the above remarks will appropriately apply. A Quest which I have just submitted to the scales, in its feathers, as shot, weighs 1J Ib. ; while a Stock-dove put into the same, and under like conditions, barely turns the beam, at 12 oz. In measurement the Quest is 18 inches in length, with a wing spread of 2 feet 5 inches. The length of the Stock-dove is 13 inches, its wings extending to nearly 2 ft. 3 in. By this it appears that the wings of the latter are longer in proportion to its body than those of the former; just what might be expected from its more migratory habits, calling for greater and longer- sustained flights. Without taking the difference of size into account, the two species, though often confounded by the incurious, are easily distinguished. Though both are of a slate-blue colour, in the Stock-dove the blue is more pronounced ; hence one of its common appellations among the country people, of " Hue pigeon." Nor does it show any white markings, as the Quest, which has these both on the neck and wings. The only variegation on the coat of the Stock-dove save the lighter and darker shades of slate- blue is from two or three black blotches (not bands) on its wing-coverts, and the vinous iridescence around its neck, much more brilliant than on the other species, and from which it has its specific name (Etias (oinos, wine). " Stock" it is supposed to have derived from its habit of breeding in the old stocks of pollarded trees, while the Ring-dove nests higher up among the branches. But there is a more essential difference in their place of nidifi- cation ; for the Stock-dove does not always make its nest in trees, but rather the opposite. Its hatching-place by preference is certainly closer to the ground, even upon 26 The Naturalist in Siluria. and in it, since it has been known to breed in an aban- doned rabbit-hole. But, above all, it prefers the ledge of a cliff, where there is a niche or crevice roomy enough for its purpose. Just such a cliff is there on Peynard Hill, behind my house, where the hard Cornstone overlies a softer stratum of the Old Red ; and thero the Stock- dove finds the breeding-place of its choice. This predilection of the Columba cenas for rocks has led to its being confused with the real Rock-dove (C. livia). Here, in Herefordshire, where the latter is rarer , and of course less known, the Stock-dove is called Rock pigeon, or rather " Rocky," when spoken of in the plural number, " Rockies." It is evident that this erroneous nomenclature extended into Hampshire in the days of Gilbert White, and that the "Rockiers" reported to him by the almost octogenarian sportsmen were Stock-doves. Neither are these last the progenitors of our pigeons, though by a gentle gradation they draw nearer to it. One more link, and we arrive at the real ancestry of the bird for which we provide home and nesting-place. Un- questionably is it descended from the pigeon of the sea- cliffs. This, the Rock-dove (Columba livia), is even smaller than the Stock, and, of course, also the domestic variety; so that " the usual rule of domestication " is not falsified by its being taken as the forefather of the last. The fact that it is so is established by many points of resemblance. The Rock-dove, like the other two wild species, is of a slate-blue colour ; but it has the transverse bands upon its wings wanting in both of these, and always present in blue House pigeons. A characteristic yet more infallible thing shows afHnitv between tjie 4ove of the Our Wild Pigeons. 27 that of the cote the whitish fleck over the rump, con- spicuously seen on both as they spread their wings in flight, but never observed in either Quest or Stock-dove. But there is no need of this reference to colour for proof of their identity as species. Gilbert White, grop- ing in the darkness of a century and a half ago, found light enough to point it out, when he said, speaking of Sir Roger Mostyn's House doves in Carnarvonshire " Though tempted by plenty of food and gentle treat- ment they can never be prevailed on to inhabit their cote for any time, but as soon as they begin to breed betake themselves to the fastnesses of Ormshead, and deposit their young in safety amidst the inaccessible caverns and precipices of that stupendous promontory/' Similar testimony is given by Edwards, the self-taught naturalist of Scotland, who states that House pigeons near the sea-coast in his neighbourhood not only betake them- selves to the cliffs, but there interbreed with the Rock- doves, so that it is now impossible to procure one of the latter of pure strain and natural colouring. We have the Rock-dove in Herefordshire. Mr. W. Lloyd, a local naturalist, reports it as breeding on the Stanner rocks, a basaltic upheaval near the border line between the counties of Hereford and Radnor. It has also a nesting- placfe in the cliffs overhanging the Wye by the celebrated Symond's Yat, and all down through Monmouthshire, to Caldy Island. There, a fortiori , they should be found, since these cliffs are nearer to its known habitat on the sea-coast. The Rock-dove never makes its nest in trees, and is not known ever to perch upon them, another point of resemblance to the House pigeon confirmatory of the fact of their having a common origin, 28 The Naturalist m Siluria. This species also furnishes us with an illustration of Nature adapting her creatures to the mode of life she has designed for them. Its home on the beetling sea- cliff, where it is exposed to the most furious storms, renders it necessary that the bird should be provided with the best means of flight. And just so it is, its wings being longer in proportion to its bulk than even those of the Stock-dove, while its flight is bolder, more arrow-like, and swifter than any of the genus. The fourth and last species of our native columbidce, the Turtle-dove (0. turtur), is also in the list of Wye birds; but only as a summer visitor. This beautiful little creature breeds with us; and its tur-tur, from which it has its name, can be heard throughout all the summer's day. One fact in connection with the Turtle-dove is worth recording. Here, in Herefordshire, its nest is protected from spoliation by a singular sentiment, or rather, super- stition; and nest-robbing boys, who will ruthlessly plunder those of the Ring or Stock-dove, leave that of the Turtle untouched ! The reason for thus resisting the temptation, is a belief that any one who robs the nest of a Turtle-dove will as a consequence, and by way of punishment soon after have a death in his family ! One day in March my gunman shot four wild pigeons that were feeding on a field of beans recently sown. They do little, if any, damage to the beans at such time ; unlike rooks and crows, not " stocking " them up, but only taking those left uncovered, and so lost. It is not about this, however, the present note is written ; but to say that, of the four birds killed, one was a Stock-dove (Columba cenas), the other three Ring-doves, or, as com- monly called, Quests (G. palumbus). They were all in Our Wild Pigeons. 29 the same flock, which consisted of both species, showing them to associate, at least during the winter, and when after food. This, of course, is nothing new, and I only speak of it to further say that in the Welsh bordering shires the Stock- dove is far from rare, though scarce in comparison with the King. In a flock of hundreds of the latter, there may be tens of the former ; and he who shot the four abovementioued tells me there seemed about this proportion among those feeding in the bean- field. Had the aforesaid field been some five miles farther off, on the banks of the Wye, where it canons through the carboniferous limestone at Symond's Yat, the Rock- dove (G. livid) would, doubtless, have been also in the flock. For there all the three species come together, as it were, on common ground ; a singular fact, and of rare occurrence in any other part of the kingdom. Like as not, an odd Rock or two may have been among the feeders in the bean-field, since they sometimes stray a few miles inland from their roosting-place on the river cliffs. The Rock-dove, so far as I have read, is represented as only inhabiting along the coast-line, nesting in caves and on the ledges of precipices that overhang the sea. I had long suspected that this choice of habitat was not due to any preference for salt water, but merely because the sea cliffs offer the birds better security ; and if an equally safe retreat were offered them inland they would take to it. My conjecture has proved correct, and I am now able to affirm that the Rock- dove dwells in the riverine escarpments of the Wye, remote from any sea shore. I have myself noted it as far inland as Hereford- shire; but Mr. James W. Lloyd, of Kingston, an obser- 30 The Naturalist in Silurid. vant ornithologist, records it as breeding in the Stanner Rocks of Radnorshire, a trappean formation altogether away from the sea. Yet Yarrell says : " The Rock-dove, as its name implies, is a species which in its natural and wild state inhabits high rocks near the sea- coast, in the cavities of which it lives the greater part of the year, only venturing as far inland as may be necessary to visit the nearest cornfields/' Indeed, reviewing the whole literature of our native columbidce, I find it replete with error. To begin with Bewick, his portrait of the Stock-dove is an excellent likeness of the Rock, but not at all like the bird it was designed to represent. Pennant confounded the two species, saying : " The small sort that is frequent on most of our cliff's is only a variety of the wild pigeon." By wild pigeon a very indefinite title he meant the Stock-dove, further discoursing of it thus : " The tame pigeon, and all its beautiful varieties, derive their origin from one species the Stock-dove; the English name implying its being the stock or stem from which the other domestic kinds sprung." (!) All these assertions are alike wide away from the truth; for, not only is the " small sort that is frequent on most of our cliffs" a distinct species, and no mere variety, but from it, and likely it alone, have descended all our tame breeds. Such, at least, is the general belief at present existing among ornithologists. And the name " Stock " has nothing to do with its being the progenitor of domestic pigeons, but comes from its nesting in the stocks of old trees. It is all the stranger that Pennant should have made these mistakes, seeing that Gilbert White, from whom he obtained most of his information, evidently knew there was a specific distinction between the Rock and Stock Our Wild Pigeons. SI doves. Still, the naturalist of Selborne has not spoken with his usual perspicacity on this point ; doubtless, be- cause of the Rock- dove not being a denizen of his neigh- bourhood nor yet the Stock breeding there, as he alleges he had but slight acquaintance with either. Montagu also supposed the two species to be the same, though in the later edition of his " Dictionary," by Newman, the separation is properly made. No doubt one of the causes which has led to the two species having been so often and long confounded is, that in many parts of England the Stock-dove is called by the country people Rock, or, rather, " Rocky." It is so in the western shires, and I think I have discovered the reason. Instead of nesting exclusively in the old stocks of trees, as most ornithological writers assert, or in disused rabbit burrows, as stated by others, it breeds in cliffs too, on ledges overshadowed by bush or projec- tion of rock. This I can affirm, from having frequently seen the nest so placed and had the young birds out of it. Now, as the Ring-dove (Quest), frequenting the same neighbourhood, never breeds but among the branches of trees, and the true Rock is usually uuknown to them, this cliff-nesting of the Stock, observed by country people, would very naturally lead to their giving it the name " Rocky/' to distinguish it from the more common species, the Quest just as they have done. Yarreli's description of the Stock-dove (copied by Mr. Morris, author of a " History of British Birds/' with some slight alteration of phraseology) is also misleading. He speaks of its wing feathers, primaries, secondaries, and tertiaries, being tipped with " leaden grey." There is not a shade of grey observable on them near the extremi- ties ; instead a dusky brown, at the tips approaching 32 The Naturalist in Siluria. black. Again, he speaks of certain spots on the wing coverts, and others on the tertiaries, as of this same leaden grey. These spots are so near to being black that no one not colour-blind would think them otherwise, while those of them described as on the tertiaries are in reality on the secondaries. As these markings have a peculiar significance, I will be minute in my account of them, transcribing from the bird before me that shot in the bean-field. There are seven of the secondary coverts so distinguished; the spots being nearly perfect circles, and confined to the outer web of the feathers, their edges quite clear of the shaft. They are of different, indeed graduated, sizes, and at unequal distances from the tips of the feathers; else with the wing closed they would form a " bar," since then only the outer webs are visible. The other dark markings on the secondaries themselves the three inner ones are rather " blabs " than rounded spots of indefinite outline are less conspicuous than those on the coverts. But between the two sets there is an evident tendency towards that double oblique bar on the wings, which makes the Eock-dove so easily identi- fiable. This is why I speak of these markings as having a peculiar significance, and in their application to all the three species of our wild pigeons. It is the more strange, taking into account their other points of distinction; their respective sizes, almost in regular gradation from the great Ring to the little Eock the Eing without sign of black mark on the wings, the Stock having them spotted, almost barred, the Eock with the bars complete! Besides, the upper tail coverts of the Eing are lead colour, those of the Stock also, but of a lighter shade, showing an approach to the white rump so characteristic of the Eock. House Pigeons Perching Upon Trees. 33 And noting the difference in their habits, we again find a parallelism of gradation. The Ring makes its nest upon the branches of trees, the Stock in the cavities of their trunks, and, as we have seen, also on ledges, while the Rock is exclusively a bird of the cliffs. Though so near akin and so much alike, nature has certainly adapted each of these birds to a different mode of existence ; but stranger far is the graduated approxi- mation in their habits, combined with that in size, colour, and markings. It is indeed strikingly singular. HOUSE PIGEONS PERCHING UPON TREES. On one occasion, while out for a drive, I observed several birds of large bulk perched upon the topmost branches of a tall elm. Their size, shape, and attitudes proclaimed them pigeons, and I, of course, came to the conclusion they were Quests ; but as my carriage came under the tree, which stood by the side of the road, and the birds still kept to their perch, showing no shyness nor sign of alarm, I scanned them more carefully. Wild pigeons, whether Ring-doves or Stocks Rocks they could not be, roosting on a tree would not stay such near approach of man certainly not in this, the winter season. On scrutiny, they proved to be none of the wild species, but simply House pigeons, that had taken a fancy to curve their claws around a tree branch instead of standing with them flattened out on ridge-tile or cope- stone. There were about a dozen of them, the tree on which they were perched, seeming perfectly at home 34 The Naturalist in Siluria. upon it, being close to a house and the cote to which they belonged. Still, not so near but that their thus roosting seemed somewhat strange. I had often seen my own pigeons light upon trees, and, for a time, stay on them ; but the trees were in close proximity with their cot, some of them shadowing the enable against which it is fixed. Here it was quite different, the elm being at least fifty yards distant from the walls of the dwelling, and as much more from the outbuildings, where the birds had their home. This spectacle, so rare, leads to conjectural reflection. Among ornithologists it is the almost universal belief that the domestic pigeon, with all its varieties, is de- scended from the Rock-dove (Golumba livid). But this species, so far as I know, never sets foot upon a tree ; therefore, why should its tame progeny be doing so ? Possibly, and very probably, the answer should be, that the Stock-dove (G. cenas) has also had something to do with the progenitorship, this species being in part a tree- percher, but alike a rooster in cliffs; where, as I have lately discovered, it also, and often, makes its nest. Moreover, domesticated pigeons from such paternity would not infringe upon the well-known rule of size- aggrandizement by domestication. With the Ring-dove (C. palumbus) it is different ; this, the largest of all, having certainly had nothing to do with the procreation of our tame breeds. The Flocks of Wild Pigeons. 35 THE FLOCKS OF WILD PIGEONS. Another characteristic feature of the Wye-side slopes, at present writing, is the Quest, or Cushat, not as an indi- vidual bird, but in grand congregations. The flocks are now at their fullest, and I have never observed them in larger numbers. One I saw this very day could not have counted much less than a thousand. Just now the turnip fields are their special foraging grounds ; and scarce one NUTHATCH. but has its little group, if not large assemblage, of these birds moving about among the green tops, which have been prostrated by the late superstratum of snow. As the leaves are rather withered and delabrees, the pigeons seem to apply their beaks more to the roots, doing consider- able injury to the crop, as the farmer too truly knows. But he has his remedy, since he can recoup himself by shooting them, the Quest not being protected by game 36 The Naturalist in Siluria. statutes. Indeed, the damage they do is far more than made up by the value of their flesh as a food commodity. It is to be remembered that they give some compensation also by the destruction of the seeds and roots of noxioug weeds, which would otherwise infest the ground set apart for cultivation. With regard to the bitterness said to be infused into the flesh of the Quest when fed on turnips, I am still inclined to believe the allegation an error. This very day I have eaten of one in whose crop, when filled, there was nothing but turnip tops, and I am quite sure these had been its food for weeks past, yet I could not per- ceive the slightest taint of that " rancidity " spoken of by Gilbert White (though not as his own experience), and repeated in almost every ornithological work and cyclopaedia written since his day. The author of " British Birds/' in a chapter devoted to the Rock-dove, says : " I have observed in a flock of tame pigeons feeding in a field the hind ones, every few moments, flying over the rest and taking their places in front, to have their turn of the best pickings, and this in constant succession, as if the whole of the flock admitted the right in each other, and claimed it indi- vidually for themselves." I think it likely that the Rock- dove acts in a similar manner, but as regards the Ring- dove or Quest, I have never observed it. These certainly do not move so while feeding in the turnip fields, though that is not a true test, since the food thus provided does not call for much moving about. But when they do change place, either walking or on the wing, it is with- out any regularity of formation or direction. The de- scription, however, if inapplicable to the Quest, is in exact accordance with what I have myself witnessed in The Flocks of Wild Pigeons. 37 the Passenger pigeon of America (CoJumba migratoria). While shooting, or as there called "hunting/' these birds in the State of Tennessee, where there are extensive tracts of beech forests, I have seen " gangs " of them so thick on the ground, gobbling up the mast, that not a spot of bare earth has been visible between their bodies. Nay, more, they sometimes crowded so close as to alight on one another's backs, as House pigeons may be often seen to do in a farmyard when the food is thrown down to them in a lump. Never stationary, however, these migratory birds of America. With wonderful rapidity those in the ad- vance clear off the fallen mast, licking it up, as it were, in an instant, the cohort behind constantly taking wing, and flying over to form the front rank, and so on alter- nately, till the surface of the ground, or rather its plumed occupants, seem a sea of slate-blue colour, stirred by wavy undulations. I may add that I have discharged a double-barrelled gun, loaded with No. 5 shot, right in the face of such a flock advancing towards me, and at less than forty yards distance, the result, simply to scare them off, without killing a single pigeon. I was never sure about the reason of this failure of the lead to take effect, nor were others to whom the same circumstance had oft-times occurred, the general belief being, that it was due to the wind from the pigeons' wings sending the shot astray. More likely, the thick, close plumage on their gorgets and breasts is the shield which protects them. The Passenger pigeon is often observed in the northern countries of Europe, and I think it likely breeds in Siberia as well as in America. In the latter, its range extends to the most northern portion of the Continent, and the passage across Behring Straits would be but a few minutes' flight for it. Though having a place in the 38 The Naturalist in Siluria. list of British birds, its claim to this is very slight, rest- ing, I believe, on but a single specimen shot in Fifeshire, Scotland, half a century ago, a waif, in all likelihood, blown over from Kussia or Norway. THE WOODPECKER. A traveller passing through the shires bordering South Wales, if it be a wooded district, will, every now and then, hear a loud call strangely intoned, resembling, near as may be, the syllables, " glu-glu-glu-gluk," uttered in a sort of laughing giggle. If new to him, it will not fail to excite his curiosity with a vivid desire to know what kind of creature sends it forth. When told it is the call- note of a bird, he will be loath to believe it so ; or, if be- lieving, and he has ever heard the cry of the white-headed eagle, he will be half inclined to think it this. But the first rustic met, and questioned about it, will undeceive him, saying : " It's the heekul, sir." He may still fancy the interrogated man means " eagle/* with a corrupt pronunciation ; and not without further questioning, and some difficulty, will he learn that the loudly-laughing bird is only a woodpecker, little bigger than thrush or starling. Even while he is in the act of inquiring about it, the glu-glu-glu-gluk will again break abruptly on his ear ; and if by the side of an orchard, he may see the bird itself flitting from apple- tree to apple-tree, in a pitching, laboured-like flight. Nor does it alight on the branches, but upon the trunk, low down near its base, with head upward, body vertical, GREEN WOODPECKER. 40 The Naturalist in Siluria. and tail bent inward against the bark, as if to prop it in its place. Scrutinizing the bird carefully, as he has opportunity now, the traveller will notice that it is of a yellowish green colour all over the back, with a speckle of black and white barring the outer edges of its wings and tail; the crown of its head showing a large, well-defined disc of deepest crimson. If he have visited tropical countries, it will recall to his mind the birds of bright feather he may have seen there. For it is the Green Woodpecker (Picus viridis), in splendour of plumage excelling all our native species ; perhaps the bee-eater, roller, and king- fisher excepted. Watching it awhile, after it has pitched against the apple-tree, it will be seen to work upward, not creepingly, but in bold, confident shoots, sometimes direct up the trunk, and sometimes obliquely around it. Now and then it will stop, delve its long, pickaxe-like beak into the bark ; and keep delving, quicker than could carpenter or nailer strike with their hammers ; its purpose, to lay open the lair of the wood-louse, or insect larvae, concealed underneath. At intervals, while thus engaged, it gives utterance to its wild, weird cry, which has been likened, and not without reason, to the laugh of a maniac. The note, however, is not always sounded exactly the same : there are times when it is less loud, and softer, and not nnfrequently monosyllabic a single "chook," as if abruptly broken off at seizing or discovering prey. When in full resonance it can be heard distinctly at a mile's distance. Having ascended the tree to its top, or so far as the bark shows fissures, with the likelihood of creepers underneath, the bird flings off to another, as before, The Woodpecker. 41 alighting near its base, to repeat every act of the per- formance. But the Green Woodpecker does not confine its foraging to trees. Part of its provender it gets out of the ground, ants especially, which I believe to be its favourite food. The length and structure of its tongue would seem to in- dicate an adaptation for this, the organ being of cylin- drical shape, and capable of protrusion fully two inches beyond the tip of the beak. The bird, moreover, has the power of secreting a viscous substance from its throat glands, which, coating the tongue, causes the insects to adhere to it, till they are drawn in between the mandibles and so transferred to the stomach. It is just so with the ant-bears, or ant-eaters, of tropical America and Africa, as also certain other species of birds, formed for feeding on these insects. While on the ground, the Green Woodpecker pro- gresses in a fashion sui generis. Its movements from place to place are made in a series of hops, the head held high, the body erect, as when climbing the trunk of a tree, and the tail slightly spread, touching the earth, not trailing, but as if having a hold on it for the sake of steadiness. I have had frequent and excellent opportunities of observing this bird's behaviour when after the formicce, and at all seasons, winter and summer. On my lawn, and near the house, these insects abound, so much as to be a troublesome pest, and there the Picus viridis often comes in quest of them. In my note-book I find record of several such visits, and during most months of the year ; but one paid me in the early part of February, 1879, has attached to it a detailed description of the modus operandi There was a pair of the birds, the Green Woodpecker being of conjugal habits, and as the scene was not twenty 42 The Naturalist in Siluria. paces from my window, using an opera-glass, I had a good view of everything. The two were separately en- gaged, each at an ant-heap of its own. In point of fact, there was no " hill," the roller having hindered that \ but a slight swelling on the surface told of a colony of ants underneath in winter quarters the common yellow species (Formica flava). The bird would plant itself firmly, with tail hard pressed against the ground, as a hand to hold by, then commence " stocking/' its head going up and down in rapid repetition, and a ludicrous resemblance to that of " Punch " in the showman's box. Thus it would continue, till its beak was buried in the earth up to the cere, and the head itself out of sight in the short sward of grass. And while thus it would pause at intervals, and remain for seconds at a time without any visible motion, as if drinking I What it was actually doing when thus stationary I can only give a guess at. My conjecture is, that the tongue was extended underneath, playing along the hollow passages which the ants have, and licking up the insects, with their so-called et e g s "' these last being abundant at that time of year. No doubt the tongue of the woodpecker is highly sensi- tive, and its true organ of touch : for its hard, horny beak cannot be, in this respect differing from the snipe and other soft- billed grallatores. Notwithstanding the commonness of the Picus viridis in most wooded districts of our country, it is strange how much of erroneous belief exists about its habits, even standard ornithologists assigning to it ways it wots not of, and doings it never did. In a further note I purpose exposing some of these errors, while further illustrating the life of this very interesting avis. A Brood Under the Mistletoe Bough. 43 A BROOD UNDER THE MISTLETOE BOUGH. In a note published some time ago, I spoke of having discovered the nest of a Green Woodpecker by seeing a litter of chips at the bottom of an apple-tree in my orchard. The cavity in the trunk containing the nest was about seven feet above the ground, and, oddly enough, a fine bunch of mistletoe grew out above, partially over- shadowing its orifice. Standing on tiptoe, and inserting my hand into the hole, there came up out of it a chorus of noises a jarring and hissing as of goslings, seemingly in anger, and loud enough to be heard full fifty yards off. I say up out of it, for the hollow passage, on reaching the heart of the tree, turned downward a foot or so, as I could tell by the direction of the sounds. And that these proceeded from a brood of young birds was equally evi- dent, one of the parents seen near by flitting about among the pear and apple-trees, excited and solicitous. As the rounded hole was not of sufficient size to admit my hand, I gave up hope of getting a look at the young birds, and turned to note the behaviour of the old one no doubt the mother. She still kept in proximity to the place, pitching from tree to tree, while every now and then giving utterance to her strange call -note, though in tone more subdued than is usual. And her solicitude seemed less, or at least did not show itself in the fren- zied, distracted way observable among magpies and some other birds, under similar circumstances. Nor did she at any time come very near. All of which I thought strange, knowing the Green Woodpecker to be anything but a shy bird much less so than either jay or magpie. Having satisfied myself with watching her movements, I left the place, intending to revisit it on the following 44 The Naturalist in Silwria. day, for further observation, which I did. But on once more thrusting the end of my cane into the cavity, there came forth no noise. All inside was silence, and the birds flown. Whether the parents had meanwhile carried them off, anticipating my return, with the danger attendant, I am unable to say. For, unluckily, there was another factor in the account, a haymaking boy we were mowing the orchard grass with fist smaller than mine, who, in my absence, may possibly have abstracted the chicks. When charged with the theft, however, he stoutly denied it, and all inquiries failed to fix the thief, if such there was. But more likely the young birds had been removed by the mother, as from the time of year (June 29th), and the loud noise they were able to make, they must have been nearly fledged, and so easy of removal. On having the nest itself drawn out, it proved no nest at all, only some loose "daddocks," as pieces of decayed wood are called by the country people. A CURIOUS INSTANCE OF SCANSORIAL INSTINCT. One of the oddest and most interesting habits of the woodpecker tribe is the training their young to climb trees before they are able to fly. At best the woodpecker is a bird of heavy, laboured flight, and often relies more upon its scansorial powers for concealment or escape, than on its wings. Nature has amply provided it with the means for this in the conformation of its feet, claws, A Curious Instance of Scansorial Instinct. 45 and tail, with the guiding instinct as well. But to the hitter the parents add instruction, taking the young birds out of the tree cavity when nearly full fledged, and show- ing them the way to get about. That they do this I have had evidence enough ; and a singular case confirmatory of it has just been made known to me by Mr. W. Blake, of Ross, an observant young naturalist, whose word I can well rely on. Out for a walk in the woods, he noticed a hole in one of the trees, some twelve or fifteen feet above the ground, which, from certain indices, he suspected to be the nesting-place of a bird. Climbing up to it, he plunged his arm in to the shoulder, to find the cavity turn downwards, and at its bottom felt feathers a live bird, which, on his clutching it, struggled violently to escape. Drawing it forth, and too much occupied with his own precarious footing, it got out of his grasp, and flew off with a loud, laughing cry, as iu mockery the well-known glu-glu-glu-gluk of the Green Woodpecker. But inside the tree he heard other sounds the " churming," as he words it, of the young birds ; and, re-inserting his hand, he drew them forth one after another in all five of them nearly fledged. Placed upon the ground at some two or three yards distance from the bottom of the tree, they instantly ran back to it, and commenced climbing up the trunk. They could make no use of their wings, alto- gether relying on their claws and supporting tail ; and with these, doing their best, they soon ascended to the height of six or seven feet not by a single effort, but several in succession, with pauses and rests between. Undoubtedly, they would have returned to the hole from which they had been taken, but Mr. Blake, having other views, recaptured and carried them home with him. Two strange facts are exhibited in this occurrence : 46 The Naturalist in Siluria. first, the parent bird the mother, of course having re- mained within the cavity till caught, a thing so unusual. There seems no other way of accounting for it than by the supposition that she was at the time in the act of feeding her young, and the noise made by them hindered her hearing and noting the approach of the enemy. That were intelligible enough ; but the still stranger fact of the nestlings knowing their way back to the tree where they had been hatched, would seem one of those instances of instinct which the philosopher vainly struggles to ex- plain. Unless it were pure instinct, the only explanation probable is, that they had been out of the hole and down upon the earth before, while being taught their first steps in the art of CLIMBING. In the shires bordering central and South Wales, we have all four of the accredited British species of Wood- peckers : the Great Black {Picu-s martins), the Green (P. viridis), the Great Spotted (P. major), and the Lesser Spotted (P. minor). This might be expected from the wooded character of many districts in the ancient border- land of the " Marches." Of course, the four species are far from being in like numbers ; the Great Black is so rare that many ornitholo- gists even doubt its existence in any part of England. It has been observed, however, and in my own grounds in South Herefordshire, myself the observer. In the summer of 1880 a pair passed over my head, one flying behind the other at an interval of a hundred yards or so. They lit in a tall linden tree near the house, only to stay in it for a few seconds ; then continued their up-and- down flight towards some hanging woods beyond, where I lost sight of and never saw them again. Mr. Chapman also, curator of the Free Library Museum in Hereford, A Curious Instance of Scansorial Instinct. 47 records an observation of this species, a single specimen, seen by him on an oak tree in the meadows of Belmont, near the former town. He gives substantial verification of it. There can be no doubt, therefore, of the Great Black Woodpecker occasionally visiting the Welsh bordering shires, if it be not a permanent resident in them. Against this there is the fact that although these shires abound in woods few of them show timber of large growth ; or where it is large the tracts of it are of limited extent. And it is well known that this species specially affects the heart and solitude of the thick forest, rarely coming out into the open ; while with the other three it is different. In this retiring habit of the Great Black Woodpecker I note a resemblance between it and the two American species most nearly akin to it in size as in colour, both being black. I mean the Ivory-billed (Picas prindpalis) and the Black or "log-cock" (P. pilealits). These always keep to the interior of the grand primaeval woods ; their loud tapping from which they have derived the fanciful name of " carpenter birds," in Spanish America, carpinteros and their still louder call- note, oft startling the traveller, as he rides silently along some lone, shadowy aisle of the forest. And on the other side of the Atlantic, just as on this, the smaller and spotted, or mottled species of which there are several more affect open woods, some of them frequent- ing orchards, and nesting near the homestead. Taking our English woodpeckers, not in the order of size, but scarcity, one or other of the two so-called "Spotted" species claims attention next, though it is difficult to determine which. Both may be pronounced rare birds, and are so compared with the Green Wood- 48 The Naturalist in Siluria. pecker; in many districts one or the other altogether wanting, and some where neither is known to exist. From my own observation of them in Herefordshire, a balance might be struck as to their abundance, some " lays " of country seeming to have more of the Great Spotted, others of the Lesser, just as in one place there will be only tree pipits, while in another, near by, those of the meadow species alone are seen. Perhaps as good a guide as any to the comparative numbers of the Great and Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers, taking them all over the country, is to be found in the price lists of the taxidermists. One I have before me gives the following quotations : Skin of the Great Spotted, 3s. ; egg, 9d. Skin of the Lesser Spotted, 3s. Qd. ; egg, 2s. By this it would appear that the Lesser Spotted is the rarer bird, and its nest more difficult to find. Still, that may arise from its more diminutive bulk, making it less conspicuous and so less liable to be shot. Certainly in my neighbourhood, and about my own grounds, it is the more plentiful of the two, as also throughout the adjacent Forest of Dean, where both species are met with in con- siderable numbers, though still far from common. The name <( Spotted " is for either much of a misnomer. There is scarcely a pot on them, but instead several well- defined bars of black and white, so that " barred " would be a more appropriate appellation. From my observation of the two species, their habits appear to be much alike, while differing in many respects from those of the Picus viridis. They keep more within the woods and to timber trees than it especially the Great Spotted ; while the Green is a forager in orchards, and alights on pasture fields where ants, left long undis- turbed, have thrown up their hundreds of hillocks. I A Curious Instance of Scansorial Instinct. 49 have never seen either of the others " stocking" at them, though the Green so engaged is an every- day sight. About the "tapping" of these birds, so much talked of as to be the burden of many a song notably that sentimental lay of poor Henry Kirke White, who was wrong in making it a beech tree I believe this noise is oftener made by the Nuthatch than any of the wood- peckers. The Lesser Spotted certainly gives out such a sound while searching for its food, but it more resembles a "whirr" than tapping, as a piece of dry stick drawn rapidly across a coarse-toothed comb. The other two also "tap," while splitting the bark to lay open the lair of the woodlouse ; but the sound made by them is not perceptible at any very great distance. The voices of the two Spotted species, so far as I have heard them, are quite different from that of the Picus viridis, differing also from one another. That of the Great Spotted is a monosyllabic note, a " chuck " very much like that the starling sometimes utters, repeated at intervals of nearly a minute each ; while the call-note of the Lesser comes nearer to that of the Green Woodpecker, only of fainter, feebler tone. Of all the four British species, the Green Woodpecker is the one of commonest occurrence, and so best known. Still, its habits are less understood than might be sup- posed, some of them even being incorrectly described by ornithologists of greatest note. In a future chapter, to be devoted to this interesting bird, I purpose rectify- ing such of these errors as I have found the facts to contradict. 50 The Naturalist in Siluria. SOME FALLACIES RELATING TO THE GREEN WOODPECKER, One among the many curious habits ascribed to this bird, in common with our other species of Woodpecker, is, that the jarring noise made by it on the bark of trees is a signal of communication between the sexes ! Singular enough, were it true, which, in my opinion, it is not instead, only a tale worthy of the credulous Pliny, or the romancing Buffon. Yet Montagu not only believed it but of himself has absolutely affirmed its truth, as follows: "The jarring noise so frequently heard in woods in the spring is occasioned by one or other of this genus, which, from frequent observations, we have no doubt is used as a call by both sexes to each other. It is curious to observe them try every part of a dead limb till they have discovered the most sonorous, and then the strokes are reiterated with such velocity that the head is scarcely perceived to move, the sound of which may be distinctly heard half a mile." Now, if Col. Montagu, while listening to this peculiar noise, saw the bird which made it, why was he unable to tell its exact species ? The words I have italicized clearly show his uncertainty in this respect ; for to such an accomplished ornithologist a glance should have been enough to distinguish the Green Woodpecker from either of the spotted kinds. If ignorant even of the bird's identity, it seems a stretch of imagination on his part to endow it with a habit, or instinct, so extraordinary indeed, outside nature. Surely she provides for all her creatures the means of communicating with one another by their own organs, without the necessity of resorting to extraneous instrumental aid. I cannot think of one Fallacies Relating to the Green Woodpecker. 51 that does this; though there may be, and is, if the ticking of the " death-watch," as entomologists assert, be a call- note to its mate. But why should a Woodpecker, with enough volume of voice to make itself heard to the distance of a mile why should it, of all others, employ a bit of loose tree-bark as a sound-board in the utterance of its amorous speeches ? The truth seems to be, that the resonant bark, being hollow underneath, affords shelter to the woodlouse, with other prey of the Picidce, these knowing that the noise will start the insects out, and so spare them the labour of hacking and splitting. Col. Montagu further contradicts the statement of Dr. Plot, that the tapping noise, usually attributed to Wood- peckers, is produced by the Nuthatch. Yet the doctor was in the main right, the colonel altogether wrong. Yarrell, who, I believe, still stands at the head of British ornithologists, has also made mistakes about the habits of the Green Woodpecker. He says, "It is one of the earliest birds that retire to rest in the afternoon ; " whereas it is one of the very latest. Scores, hundreds of times, have I heard its loud ''cackle/' and seen the bird itself flitting about my grounds till the last gloam- ing of twilight. Again Yarrell states, this time on hearsay authority ^ that Green Woodpeckers " when excavating a hole in a tree, for the purpose of incubation, will carry away the chips to a distance, in order that they may not lead to a discovery of their retreat.*' Wise birds, were it so ! Which it is not ; instead, the very reverse, as I have ample evidence, the " chips " often betraying the locale of their retreat, or more properly speaking, their nest. An instance in point once occurred to myself, when I 52 The Naturalist in Siluria. discovered the nest of a Green Woodpecker by seeing a quantity of whitish-coloured fragments scattered about at the bottom of an apple tree in my orchard in all, over a quart of them. Divining their origin, I looked up the trunk, to see, at about seven feet from the ground, a cavity with circular orifice, unmistakably the nesting-place of Picus viridis which on examination proved to be the case. Another fanciful belief about the Green Woodpecker, so common as to have earned for it one of its trivial appellations, is also mentioned by Yarrell, who says : te They are said to be vociferous when rain is impending, hence their name of rainbird." He thinks this probable, and offers scientific explanation of it, in the feathers of birds being readily affected by electricity, and so fore- warning them of changes in the weather. I have heard the Green Woodpecker sounding its note throughout the morning hours when there was neither cloud nor other sign of rain in the sky ; yet in the afternoon came a downpour. Therefore I, too, might have believed there was a connection between the bird's call and the con- dition of the atmosphere, but for hundreds of other instances contradicting this idea. Many a time and oft have I listened to it laughing its loudest, and for days in succession, during which not a drop of rain fell at times, too, when this was much wanted. While the rain is actually falling, then the bird is usually vociferous enough ; but that is not prediction ; more likely delight at thinking the deluge of water may drive out ants and other insects from their places of concealment. True, there is nothing very improbable in this bird, as many others beasts as well being in some mysterious way forewarned of approaching changes in the weather. I only know that the warnings it is itself said to give, Fallacies Relating to the Green Woodpecker. 53 by a call of especial loudness, are not to be relied on ; and when heard preceding a rainfall it seems simply coincidence. I think, then, the above beliefs have been shown to be more or less fallacies, notwithstanding their having been religiously copied by Mr. Morris in his "History of British Birds/' and by a host of other writers in short, they have run the rounds of most ornithological works, including encyclopaedias, and are still running them. Yet another of these fancies, though less worthy of note, may be alluded to : that of the Woodpecker " tap- ping at the hollow beech tree," a conceit, no doubt, originating in the brain of Henry Kirke White, and perpetuated by his gentle lay. It would be a rare sight to see a Woodpecker on a beech tree, whether hollow or sound, for the simple reason that the bark of these trees is seldom otherwise than sound, affording no lodgment to insects, besides being too smooth even for the claws of the Scansores. The apple tree, knotty, corrugated, and swarming with insect larvae, is the favourite habitat of the Green Woodpecker; and, no doubt, the abundance of this species in the " cider shires/' greater I believe than elsewhere, is owing to the orchards. Elsewhere I said that the " tapping " oft heard in woods is more the work of the Nuthatch than of any of the species of Picus; and I now fiud, on referring to "White's Natural History of Selborne," that he pointed out this fact more than a century ago. Indeed, the Green Woodpecker, which, as the largest of the three common species, and, armed with the most powerful beak, might be expected to make the most noise in this way, scarce makes such noise at all. Neither does the Greater Spotted; while the sound proceeding from the Lesser Spotted is 54 The Naturalist in SUnria. unlike that produced by the Nuthatch, and nearer to the " skirr " of a rattlesnake. The ordinary note of the Nuthatch bears resemblance to the twittering of swallows, bub fuller in tone and louder. What may be called its song, however, is a sort of piping strain, rather sweet, but peculiar for the voice of a bird, and bearing resemblance to the sounds pro- duced by the little water-whistles known as " nightin- gales." THE NUTHATCH. In one of his letters, bearing date April 18, the naturalist of Selborne says : " Now is the only time to ascertain the short-winged summer birds ; for when the leaf is out there is no making any remarks on such a rest- less tribe ; and when once the young begin to appear it is all confusion there is no distinction of genus, species, or sex." Taken literally, the above might lead to erroneous inferences; but the meaning is, of course, clear, Mr. White intending to point out the great difficulty encountered in the observation of birds, and their habits, during the time of year when the trees are in full leaf. He seems to refer only to the birds which are our summer visitants ; but his remarks will equally apply to many of the species permanently resident j such as during the winter are shy and keep far afield, so giving less opportunity for observ- ing them. Among these may be mentioned the Nuthatch (Sitta Europcea), which in early spring more frequently enters the orchard to forage after the flower buds of plum, cherry, and other stone-fruit trees. Less shy at this sea* The Nuthatch. 55 SOD, it permits nearer approach, and so can be better seen end its habits observed. I myself look upon the Nuthatch as one of the most interesting of our native birds ; for ifc is truly a native, not only nesting with us, but remaining throughout the year. Part of the interest attaching to it is the peculiar position it holds in our ornithological list, it NUTHATCH AND JAY. being the only species of its genus which either inhabits or visits the British Isles, while the genus itself is marked by many peculiarities. Its rarity may be also said to con- tribute to its attractiveness, as with almost everything else. For although in wooded districts it cannot be called uncommon, it is nowhere very numerous, and from many neighbourhoods altogether absent. Independent 56 The Naturalist in Siluria. of all the above, it is a remarkably handsome bird when in perfect plumage, which, though neither so brilliant as that of the Jay or Green Woodpecker, is nevertheless aught but sombre. A specimen (stuffed) I have before me, which was shot in my orchard last winter, shows the back and upper parts of the body of a light slate blue, the breast, belly, and under parts a bright though delicate buff; while the under tail inverts, and feathers around the vent, are a rich ferruginous red. Still more interesting are the habits of the Nuthatch, so widely differing from those of our other Aves. Its being able to run up the trunk of a tree shows relation- ship with the genera Yunx, Picas, and Certhia. But it is a better climber than any of these, the last, perhaps, excepted, since it can run down as well as up, and thip notwithstanding that it lacks the stiff supporting tail feathers, which the creepers and woodpeckers have. Likf the wryneck, it has no prehensile power in its tail. The name Nuthatch, synonym of nut-hack or nut-hacker, is perfectly appropriate. Some days ago one was seen in my orchard on a large limb of a Bon- Chretien pear tree, busily jobbing away at something on the branch before it. The strokes were delivered in rapid repetition, and so loudly as to be audible at more than a hundred yards distance. Thus occupied, it permitted near ap- proach ; so near, the observer had no difficulty in noting every movement. He could see that the beak was driven down, with the head at times held a little sideways, while at each dig there was a muscular straining of the legs, as if to give better force to the blow. After a time it ilew off, bearing between its mandibles what looked like a piece of bark ; but it was more probably the kernel of a uut, or some other edible substance, On the observer The Nuthatch. 57 ascending to the branch where it had been at work, he found a fissure in the bark ; which, no doubt, the bird had been taking advantage of to hold the object it was hammering at. On one occasion a bird was brought to me for identifi- cation by a ranger of a neighbouring wood. He had shot it, not within the wood, but beside it, in the garden of his lodge, where it was feeding upon the young flower buds of a cherry tree, not yet blown. I saw it was the Nuthatch (Sitta Europcea), whose favourite food is the hazel nut, from the breaking open of which with its powerful pickaxe beak it derives its vernacular name presumably an altered form of " nuthatchet," or " nut- hack." Failing the hazel nuts, it will eat acorns, beech- mast, berries, and the kernels of stone-fruit, as also beetles and other insects, though I think it prefers a vegetable diet when such can be obtained. The fact of its being taken in the act of despoiling the cherry tree is somewhat confirmatory of this ; for although strictly a wood bird, and commonly confining itself to the timber trees, there are certain periods of the year, as now in early spring, when it pays a visit to the adjacent orchards to make forage among the buds and blossoms. The Nuthatch is fairly entitled to a place in the list of interesting British birds, and for several reasons. In addition to its very pretty plumage, it is the only species of its genus we have ; while its habits are singular and sui generis. Besides, it is of somewhat rare occurrence, for although inhabiting many wooded districts of our island, it is far from being common, and still farther from being commonly seen. Even in the neighbourhoods it fre- quents but few people are acquainted with its personal ap- pearance. As a proof, the man who brought n^e the speci-. 58 The Naturalist in Siluria. men knew not what bird it was, though he has been rang- ing the woods around for upwards of thirty years. Yet in these very woods Nuthatches are perhaps as numerous as in any other part of England. This good man, however, is not given to ornithological observation. His business is with timber, lop and top, the split laths for palings, the hurdle-bars, hop-poles, and pea-sticks. All these he thoroughly understands, from the cutting down to the carting off after being sold, and the price a purchaser ought to pay for them. But birds he knows nothing about, neither does he profess it. Alike deficient is he in a knowledge of the four-footed ferae naturae, and equally candid in disclaiming it. I verily believe that, while going his rounds, if an eagle flew over his head, or a wild cat scampered across his track, he would think no more of the first than if it were only a sparrow-hawk, and as little of the last as though but a rat or weasel. As he is in every sense an honest, respectable man, I can forgive him for this absence of interest in things which so much interest me; though as a study to tbe naturalist for man is no exception to the subjects with which natural history has to deal his proclivities are as much a puzzle to me as the mode in which the cuckoo deposits her egg in a nest too small to admit the possibility of her there laying it, or the manner of procreation ascribed to the vivip- arous blenny. But I must leave the unobservant wood-ranger, and return to the bird of whose species he was ignorant, though it must have flitted before his eyes some hundreds, if not thousands of times. The Nuthatch is deserving of notice from the naturalist, much more than it appears ever to have had. I have pronounced its plumage pretty, and, without entering into minute details of its colour or The Nuthatch. 59 markings, it may be described in general terms as half leaden-blue, half buff. The blue is above, comprising the crown of the head, the nape of the neck, and back ; the buff below, taking in the throat, breast and belly, the general tint of the under parts showing an admixture of chestnut and orange. A black list runs from the base of the bill over the eyes and on to the shoulder. This mark has a peculiar meaning, as I shall presently show. The long, strong, conical, and sharp-pointed beak is dark blue above, the convex ridge of the lower mandible being of a whitish horn colour. Morris, in his book of " British Birds," describes the legs, toes, and claws as brown. In the specimen before me, neither the legs nor toes are of this colour; instead yellowish-red, with the same slight admixture of orange observable on the plumage along its sides. The bird is six inches in length ; but the tail being short in proportion to the body allows for a greater bulk than might be deduced from the measure- ment. It is, in fact, about the size of a greenfinch, though of quite a different shape, in form more resembling the woodpeckers. To these it is also very similar in habits ; and although classed with the Certhiadce, or Creepers, its affinity to the Picidce seems quite as close, or closer. Its resemblance to the woodpeckers is noticeable in many of its ways. Like them it is a true tree-borer, not only delving into the bark after insects, but drilling a hole for its nest. The noise it makes while engaged in this oper- ation can be heard at a considerable distance, and is often mistaken for the "tapping" of the woodpecker. A somewhat similar hammering is made by it in breaking open nutshells to extract the kernels ; from all of which it has obtained the additional titles of " nut jobber" and <( wood-cracker," 60 The Naturalist in Siluria. Another point of similarity to the woodpeckers, not in habits, but in plumage, is the streak or list already alluded to as running longitudinally from the base of the beak over the cheeks and on towards the shoulders. This moustache-like marking is a peculiar characteristic of all the woodpecker family, and seems to have some myste- rious connection with their mode of life. It is, at least, strange that the Nuthatch, of such similar habits, should also be thus similarly provided, the thing itself pointing to an alliance between the two genera. The Sitta Europcea is a true tree climber, or rather creeper, since its mode of progression is that distinctive of the Certhiadce. While moving upon the trunk or along the larger branches, it does not hop as the woodpeckers, but walks foot over foot, in a quick, stealthy gait, its body flat against the bark. Nor does it assist itself with the tail, of which the wood- peckers make much use as a prop and support, often even when they are upon the ground. Moreover, these seem only able to go up the tree, or around its trunk, while the Nuthatch can " swarm " with equal facility either upward or downward. What gives it this superior capa- city will be apparent by an examination of its foot; the hinder toe, or heel, being larger than any of the three anterior ones, while all are furnished with large sickle- shaped claws, sharp- pointed, and strongly prehensile. If the top of a finger be inserted between them and rapidly drawn forth again, they can be felt adhering to it as though they were barbed. From this it may well be supposed that the slightest inequality in the bark will be caught and clutched, without danger of the bird slipping off, whether head up or down. As already hinted at, the Nuthatch nests in a tree cavity j in this respect also as the woodpeckers. And The Nuthatch. 61 like these, it delves its own hole, though sometimes taking possession of one already hollowed out If the aperture of this be larger than is necessary for the admis- sion of its body, the bird has been known to make it narrower by laying a plaster of mud or clay around the orifice. This trouble is taken, suggests Yarrell, as a pre- caution against attacks by the tits, a small embrasure being easier of defence than a large one. The reason is rather unsatisfactory. A blow from the powerful beak of a Nuthatch would send tomtit, even the great Parus major, to perdition. More likely the "chinking" is done to hinder the entrance of hawk or owl possibly the pole-cat. When the Nuthatch excavates for itself, the hole is a cylindrical tunnel, first running horizontally, then at the end dropping downward to the site of the nest, a loose deposit of leaves, bits of bark, and moss, where it lays six or seven eggs of a dull white colour, spotted, or blotched, with brown. In the pairing season its note, " kweet-kweet " may be heard, though at other times it is rather a silent bird. Its presence is more often betrayed by the noise it makes while hammering at the hazel-nuts. Its mode of extracting their kernels is perhaps the most curious thing relating to it. In order to keep the nut steady to receive the stroke of its beak, it first presses it into a crack of a decayed tree, or a crevice in the bark, sometimes between the posts of a paling, just as a blacksmith fixes in his vice the iron he intends operating upon. And while pecking at the shell the bird is so well sustained by its claws as to have the whole body at command, which moves up and down with the blows, its weight giving strength to the stroke. Take it all in all, the Nuthatch is one of the most inter- esting of our indigenous birds, for it is a true native, 62 The Naturalist in Siliiria. nesting with us, and continuing its sojourn throughout the whole year. Mr, Brammer, one of the wood- wards employed in the adjacent Forest of Dean a Government property tells me of a bird which makes its nest in a very original and singular situation. When a portion of the Forest timber is cut down, for the slabs and props used in the coal-mines, it is first stacked or corded, the " cords " being separated by upright stakes driven into the ground between. When the wood is hauled away, these stakes are often leffc standing, and remain so for many years. After a time, the weather having free play upon them, they become partially decayed ; and then a small bird, a tit, as my informant supposes it to be, hollows out a cavity in one or other of them, near their top or head, in which it makes a nest and brings forth its young. A small round hole, he describes it, running several inches into the stake, horizontally at first, then lowering to the nest. Mr. Brammer, although a truthful and intelligent man, is, like my nearer neighbour, the ranger, not much of a natural- ist ; and I take it that his " tit " is neither more nor less than a Nuthatch. At all events the bird certainly does not belong to the family of the Paridce. For, though the latter often make their nests in holes of trees, they do not themselves make the holes, and cannot. I intend paying a visit to these timber troglodytes, and scraping acquaintance with them. The Scarcity of Song Thrushes. 63 THE SCARCITY OF SONG THRUSHES. I have never known Song- Thrushes so scarce as they are at present, and have been during all the past year, 1880. I speak of my own neighbourhood, South Here- fordshire, though I have reason to believe it is the same all over the country. Three summers ago, in my grounds, I could hear two or three of these birds of song, un- matched, save by the nightingale, singing at the same time, and within a stone's throw of one another; and singing all day long, from early morn till dewy eve, so constantly and continuously I often wondered at vocal powers that seemed never to fail or flag. But now all is changed, and so changed ! The mellifluous notes of the mavis are rarely heard ; and when heard it is in solitary strain but one bird singing within earshot, and that only on occasional days. Nor is this the worst or strangest part of it still another change seeming to have come over the thrush, making it parsimonious of its song. Instead of the prolonged strain of former days, this year, whenever and wherever I have heard it sing, there was but the going over of its gamut two or three times, and all silence for hours after ! This fact, for it is a fact so far as my observation extends and I have several times observed and been surprised at it courts inquiry as to its cause. Can it be because the thrushes are so few in number, each pair with a wide field to themselves, that the cock bird, having no rival near, and therefore no motive to make display of his pre- eminence in song, is for this reason so sparing of it ? The conjecture that such is the cause may seem ludicrous yet I can think of no other. And why may it not be thus ? It is well known that caged birds sing better in 64 The Naturalist in Siluria. I company ; piping out their notes in jealous rivalry, as human vocalists on the stage of the opera-house or concert- room. And why not wild ones the same ? PROOF POSITIVE OF THRUSHES BEING SCARCE. If, beyond the facts above set forth, I had needed other evidence to assure mo of the Song Thrush being now in diminished numbers, I have got it in a way convincing, as curious. Some days ago, chancing to be within ear- shot of two boys, one of them the most noted nest-robber of my neighbourhood, I overheard a snatch of dialogue to the following effect : " Wonderful few o' the singin' Thrushes be about this year, Jim." " What make 'ee think that, Dick ? " "'Cause I hain't foun' a nest o' em yet, an' there warn't a many last year, eyther." " Theer be plenty o' the mistletoes ; more'n I've ever seed. I hear 'em screechin' all about farmer's big orchard." " Oh ! bother the mistletoes. They bean't much good ; neyther their eggs nor themselves. But the singers ! If I only had a nest o' young 'uns now, I could get five shillin' for V Dick was the famous bird-nester ; and at this point, discovering myself, I interrupted the dialogue. I called him up, for a spell of cross- questioning. Submitting him to this, I found he was fixed in his idea that the Song The Missel Thrush Abundant. 65 Thrush was less numerous in the neighbourhood than it used to be, even within his brief period of nest-plundering existence, though he was unable to assign the reason for it. This set before him, as proceeding from the severe winters of 1879-80 and 1880-81, he caught the idea up, instantly exclaiming, " That's it sure, sir. I knows the singin' Thrushes be wonderful nesh." By the old saw, there are "sermons in stones, and books in running brooks/' and just such teaching got I from this ragged boy, though the lesson was but confirmatory of my own observations, already made. THE MISSEL THRUSH ABUNDANT. The conversation which is above reported gave hint of another fact, worthy of a word or two, and one I had also been speculating upon. This, that the Missel Thrush, by the boys termed " Mistletoe/' is in as great numbers as ever, if not greater. This would accord with the orni- thological character of the bird, in connection with the peculiar circumstances which have marked the two winters spoken of both severe beyond the common. The Missel Thrush is a much stronger and hardier bird than the mavis, and will even outlive winters that kill the fieldfare and red- wing, two congeneric species, which one might suppose, by their breeding and spending the summer in more northern climes, would be better able to endure cold in its extreme degree. Still, I believe it is not the cold which tests the strength and endurance of these birds, F 66 The Naturalist in Siluria. but hunger ; and very likely the Missel Thrush, to the manner born, and able to subsist on mistletoe berries, MISSEL THRUSH. with those of the ivy and others the snow cannot all cover up, is thus preserved in undiminished numbers. CHAFFINCH, OR BACHELOR BIRD. Fringilla Ccelebs Bachelor Finch the name which Linnasus bestowed upon the Chaffinch, is a misnomer at least, in Siluria. The Swedish naturalist has said that (( before winter all the hen Chaffinches migrate through Holland into Italy." The remark, of course, refers to Sweden; but commenting upon it, the famed naturalist of Chaffinch, or Bachelor Bird. 67 Selborne says : " I see every winter vast flocks of hen Chaffinches, but none of cocks/' Now, I have been observing the Chaffinch, one of our most familiar birds, for several years throughout all the winter and summer, and have never known the sexes so to separate. In all cases where there were flocks, the cocks and hens seemed to be in about equal numbers, or at least no difference worth noting ; and Mr. Knapp, the author of " The Journal of a Naturalist," bears similar CHAFFINCH. testimony of them. He says, " With us the sexes do not separate at any period of the year, the flocks frequenting our barn doors and homesteads in winter being composed of both." Mr. Knapp's observations were made in Gloucestershire on the left bank of the Severn; mine chiefly in the valley of the Wye. So, if those of Linnaeus and Gilbert White be correct, then the habits of the birds in these western shires must differ from what they are elsewhere, even in our own islands a somewhat singular circumstance. 68 The Naturalist in Siluria. It is not often that the amiable naturalist of Selborne came to wrong conclusions, or put forth fanciful theories, so commonly indulged in by writers on natural history. He was too acute an observer for the former, and too conscientious a one for the latter. Yet in regard to these same birds, another of his ideas seems paradoxical that relating to their migration. Noticing the large flocks of them that appear in winter, he says, " It would seem very improbable that any one district should produce such numbers. . . . Therefore we may conclude that the Fringillce ccelebes for some good purposes, have a peculiar migration of their own." Now, when we consider that the Chaffinch usually produces two broods in a year, each of four or five birds, and that around every house, and in almost every hedge-row, there is a nest, it is mere matter of wonder the winter flocks are not larger than they are. Certainly migration is not needed to account for their numbers. And, possibly, there is a like easy explanation of the Hampshire ones being "almost all hens," as White puts it. For he does not affirm that they were all hens. May not the predominance of this sex have been only apparent from the young cocks of the year not yet having attained their perfect plumage the red breastand brighter hues generally ? Might not these have been mistaken for hens, and so made the latter appear the more numerous? Supposing eight or ten young birds to be successfully brought up by a single pair in the breeding season and admitting the above theory to be correct these, with the mother hens, would give in the winter flocks nine or eleven grey breasts against one of the brick colour. And, like enough, this is the explanation of the puzzle. The Bachelor Birds. 69 THE BACHELOR BIRDS. In the valley of the Wye no species of our smaller birds is represented by so many individuals as the Chaffinch (Ft'ingilla coelebs). In a miscellaneous flock, congregated in either field or farm-yard, composed of buntings, sparrows, linnets, greenfinches, and Chaffinches, these last will usually outnumber all the other kinds ; in rare instances only, and in certain spots, the sparrows muster- ing in equal strength. But in Herefordshire, throughout all the year, winter or summer, the Chaffinch is the bird most familiar to the eye, ever present to the sight, whether the spectator be journeying along the road, sauntering through the fields, or looking forth from the door of his dwelling. Its somewhat monotonous, yet still cheerful, " twiuk-twink/' salutes the ear with like frequency ; though this is not audible at all seasons, since the Chaf- finch, in common with most other birds, is mute during the chilly days of midwinter. This winter it has been so for a much longer period than is its wont. Its song, not uufrequently heard about the middle of January, did not strike my ear till February 6th, after the thaw had declared itself, and the thermometer run up to 45. Nor till that time did it sound its ordinary call-note. Now, both call and carol enliven the copse, and ring around the walls of the dwelling. The song will again cease about midsummer, but not the twink-twink ; that will continue on till the cold of the autumn once more admonishes it to silence. Linnaeus bestowed upon this bird the specific name Coelebs (Bachelor), because, as he says, the sexes at the approach of winter become separated; adding, "All the hen Chaffinches migrate through Holland into Italy/' Of 70 The Naturalist in Siluria. course he speaks of a migration from his own country, Sweden. Gilbert White, referring to the same bird and its habits, as observed by him in Hampshire, after a fashion confirms the statement of the Swedish naturalist. He says, "Vast flocks of hen Chaffinches appear with us in winter, without any cocks among them." Such partition of the sexes does not take place here in Herefordshire; at least, it has not come under my observation. Nor does it in the north of Ireland, where, in my earlier days, I was well acquainted with the habits of the Chaffinch, there erroneously called Bullfinch, or still more erroneously, < Bullflinch." According to Mr. Knapp, author of " The Journal of a Naturalist/ 7 neither is there such a separation in the adjoining county of Gloucester. So far as I have seen, in all the flocks frequenting this neighbourhood for several winters back, the two sexes have been in about equal numbers ; and where only three or four birds are seen together, one or two of them will be red-breasted. Morris, in his book, " British Birds/' while chronicling the circumstance of the sexes so keep- ing apart which he believes to be a fact says : " I am inclined to think that this is most frequent in severe winters." My experience of this winter on the Wye falsifies this conjectural assertion. It has been one of the severest ; yet throughout its severity the flocks of Chaffinches have been composed of males and females, as many of the one sex as the other. There are people who speak of the Chaffinch as an un- interesting bird, an. assertion showing little of either sense or taste, and an opinion with nothing to support it, save it be the plenteousness of the creature so harshly judged. Were Chaffinches scarce with us as Java sparrows, no doubt they would be more appreciated, and, like the last, The Bachelor Bird a Friend to Fruit Groivers. 71 ofterier confined in cages. Luckily for them they are not of such rare occurrence. The male Chaffinch, the " Bache- lor," is in reality a beautiful bird, his plumage of the very brightest and gayest in our indigenous aviary. And the female, too, though of hues more sombre, when closely examined, shows shades and markings becomingly pretty. To speak of any t>ird as uninteresting is to give utterance to the language of a Goth; above all, as regards the Fr ing ilia ccelebs, which in the drear winter day cheers us by its ever-presence, coming close up to window-sill and doorstep ! As well might one say wicked things of another red-breasted bird the Robin; and none will dare do that. THE BACHELOR BIRD A FRIEND TO FRUIT GROWERS. Many an anathema is hurled at the head of the Chaf- finch, alike by farmers and gardeners; and too often a shot from the ten-shilling licensed gun. Nor can it be denied that Fringilla ccelebs does damage to the young sprouting wheat, and the seedlings of the kitchen garden. But let justice be done to the bird, and account taken of the compensation given by it in the destruction of noxious larvce, feeders both upon fruit-tree leaves and those of garden vegetables. Just now, it so happens that apple trees are infested by a "blight," of quite unusual severity, causing great anxiety to fruit growers, these hideous grubs doing great injury to the trees. Often the hopes of a whole orchard, about declaring themselves in full 72 The Naturalist in Siluria. bright promise of blossom, are crushed as it were, literally nipped in the bud by them. And this very year there is every appearance we shall have a shortening in the fruit crop, if not actual failure, from the same cause. It will be less, however, in an orchard where Chaffinches abound, as these birds, now with young in the nest, are industriously collecting caterpillars from the apple and other trees, to supply the stomachs of their broods, like Oliver, ever calling for more. I can certify to this beneficial fact, from having been an eye-witness to it day after day. Therefore I would be- seech the destroyers of small birds to show mercy to the Chaffinch if only for the sake of their pears, apples, currants, and gooseberries. A CHAFFINCH PAETIAL TO NEWSPAPERS. Though in building their nests each species of bird employs certain materials by preference, yet, as is well- known, where these are wanting, birds will use such others as come nearest the thing of their choice. Few make aneater nest than the Chaffinch, and it is rare to find one greatly differing from another. Yet I have a Chaf- finch's nest now before me, which displays eccentricity of a somewhat comical kind. Instead of the lichen usually enamelling the outside, this is mottled all over with bits of newspaper of different sizes, neatly worked into the wall of grass work and other materials. Examining a number of these scraps, I find them chiefly taken from the advertising columns j though no doubt the bird in- Chaffinch and Chiff-chaff. 73 tended them for concealing its habitation, rather than making it known to the public. This nest was found in the shrubbery of one of the town gardens in Boss, where lichen may have been scarce, while scraps of old newspapers lying about in plenty served the bird as a substitute. Withal it is rather an odd case of accommodation to circumstances. CHAFFINCH AND CHIFF-CHAFF. Throughout the month of May and up to June these two birds are heard almost continuously from earliest daybreak to latest twilight. The ordinary note of the Chiff-chaff, which resembles the sound made by the file in sharpening a saw, is anything but agreeable, many people pronouncing it the reverse ; while the strain of the Chaffinch, though cheerful enough, becomes tiresome through constant repetition. One day I took out my watch to time one which was singing in a tree close by; and, after carefully counting, I found that it repeated its song 7J times to the minute, or 450 in an hour. And for many hours of the day this was kept up, with only now and then short intervals of silence. We could forgive the " Bachelor bird" for the plenteous outpouring of his monotonous note, as it cheers us at a season when most other song- sters are chary of theirs, or altogether silent. But it is withal somewhat vexatious just now, as it hinders the hearing and distinguishing the songs of rarer species, who make but a short stay with us. 74 The Naturalist in Siluria. EARLY APPEARANCE OF THE CHIFF-CHAFF. Having read various accounts of this summer visitant being seen in the month of February, I was disposed to doubt the correctness of the observation, and so said in a former note. I now withdraw my doubts, and make apology to the discredited observers, having myself shortly after seen the Chiff-chaff, and held it in my hand. Still, I cannot think that these birds have come on the regular return migration from the South, but have been staying with us all the winter. Why should they not any more than siskins, gold-crests, and other species seemingly tender as they ? It is quite possible, even probable, that many Chiff-chaffs remain in England throughout the winter when this is mild and are not noticed. For then not uttering their odd repetitive note, they might easily escape observation, or, if observed, be mistaken for other species. The theory held by some people, that this bird hybernates by which I suppose they mean that they lie up somewhere concealed and in a dormant state is not necessary to explain the fact of their having been here all the winter if fact it be. GROSBEAKS AND CROSSBILLS. We have both these interesting birds in the Wye Valley, and though rare, for some unknown reason their numbers seem to be on the increase, more of them having been observed of late years than formerly. This winter the Grosbeak, or as it is usually called the Hawfinch Grosbeaks and Crossbills. 75 (Loxia coccothraustes) , is quite common in the country around Ross. Captain Manly Power, of Hill Court, tells me be has noticed several of them upon the trees in his park, and the Kev. W. Tweed, of Bridstow, has also repeatedly seen them in his ornamental grounds, one specimen having been obtained and preserved by him. The severe weather may account for the numbers recently observed, in one of CROSSBILL. two ways either that being a winter visitant its severity has sent more of them into our island, or the bird being shy for it is one of the shyest of the Finch family the hard times had tamed, and brought it down from the tops of high trees, its usual perching-place, and so closer to the observing eye. Though generally supposed to be migratory, there is reason to believe that a few pairs breed in this neighbourhood, and remain with 76 The Naturalist in Siluria. us all the year. It is a bird well-known to the denizens of the Forest of Dean. The Crossbill (Loxia, curvirostra), a yet more interest- ing bird, is certainly a permanent resident in many parts of Herefordshire, as also becoming, year after year, more abundant. Mr. James W. Lloyd, of Kington, records it as occurring in that neighbourhood in the months of May, Jul} 7 ", August, October, and during the winter; and since, in August, he has observed the male, female, and young together, it seems conclusive that they had nested there. The Rev. Clement Ley, of King's Caple, and Arthur Ar- mitage, Esq., of Dadnor, have frequently observed small flocks of them, noting also that they usually appear in the mysterious odd numbers of three, five, or seven. In a very interesting article on the ornithology of Hereford- shire, the joint production of these gentlemen, it is re- marked: "Most curious birds they are, and very interest- ing it has been to watch their parrot-like motions, as they clamber from bough to bough of the spruce fir-trees, frequently breaking off a spray with the cone attached to it, which they grasp in their claws while they extract the seeds, producing a loud, snapping noise with their power- ful bills. Among those which visited us last summer were several young males of the year, whose brilliant rosy plumage formed a striking contrast to the almost sooty hues of their companions/' In fact, taking its habits, colour of plumage, and general appearance into account, the Crossbill is as much parrot as finch, and several of the species, as Loxia pityopsitaccus, L teenioptera, and L. leucoptera all occasional, though rarer, visitants to our island show this alliance in an equal or even greater degree. The Carrion Crow. 77 THE CARRION CROW. The Carrion Crow, that is, the real crow (Corvus e.orone) since the Rook (G. frugilegus) is sometimes so called commences its nidification early in March, either repairing the old nest or building a new one. The Carrion Crow, however ill-sounding its name or wicked its propensities, has at least one virtue deserving a word in its favour it is faithful in its loves. Even the dove, emblem of constancy, is not more true to its mate than this bird of reputation black as its plumage. And while the mated birds are constant as husband and wife, they are equally affectionate as father and mother ; the young remaining under their protection, and possibly receiving instructions from them throughout the year, or until they get married themselves. The naturalist of Selborne, apparently quoting from Pennant's " British Zoology/' says that " Crows go in pairs the whole year round/' This is an error; they are only seen in pairs during the few weeks when engaged in bringing forth their young, after which they are rarely ever apart from these last. The family group usually numbers five or six, though often there are as many as seven. If the nest has been plundered no rare occurrence when boys or gamekeepers are about then may the two old birds be seen alone for the rest of the year. Notwithstanding its name, this bird does not confine itself to eating carrion, but often subsists on insects and reptiles taken alive. It will even kill young rabbits and leverets. It has also the repute of making free with the young fowls of the farm-yard ; but I believe that much of this sort of damage laid to its charge is the doing of the magpie, which last sly depredator steals many a march into the 78 The Naturalist in Siluria. outhouse enclosures, and carries off weakling chicks, despite the protecting efforts of the enraged parent. The Crow otherwise is not only innocuous, but of great benefit to the farmer, its principal food being the larvae of noxious insects. It is especially destructive to the scarabidce, and in search of these explores every drop- ping of cattle, often scattering the heaps, which, left untouched, would be injurious to the after pasture. In regard to these droppings, I have observed a fact worth recording. It is well known that cows will not eat the grass which grows out of their own ordure. I had a pasture field where this was plenteous, the rank spots showing conspicuous all over it, into which two of my horses were turned ; and while the former carefully shunned the rich succulent herbage originating from themselves, the latter greedily ate it, browsing it down to the roots ! Eeverting to the Carrion Crow, it takes a practised eye to tell one of these birds from a rook at 200 yards distance. There is scarce any appreciable difference in their size, shape, or colour, while they are almost as one in gait and general action. Seen near enough, however, there is no difficulty in distinguishing the species, the bare triangular disc at the base of the rook's bill being the best mark of distinction. Several pairs of Carrion Crows breed in Penyard Wood, each couple solitary, and not in companionship, as do the rooks. Just above my house, in the trees which grow against a steep escarp- ment, nests a pair, which I look upon as my especial pets. They spend most of their time on a stretch of pasture visible from my drawing-room windows, they and their last year's progeny stalking carelessly and majestically about among my black, but white-faced and The Nest of " Oorvus Corone." 79 white-tailed, sheep, already known to fame. Last summer, in the haymaking time, provoked by the loss of some chicks and ducklings, supposed to have been carried off by these crows, I was cruel enough to use my gun, and fired at one of them. Luckily I did not kill, but only wounded it in the leg. For many weeks after I saw this same bird limping about over my lawn ; and, at the time, a cripple myself, I could not help thinking it appeared there as a reproach to me, saying, " Just see what you have done ! Look at me, and then at yourself ! " I was glad to find that its leg was not broken, and to see it recover, till at length it walked, and still walks, as well as any of the family. But the incident taught me a lesson of humanity, and never again shall my gun be discharged at Carrion or other crow. THE NEST OF "CORVUS CORONE." The nest of a Carrion Crow has been brought me for examination ; a nest which the owners had abandoned. Likely enough, its egg treasures had been taken out by some scansorial plunderer, as the eggs of this bird, being rather pretty and of large size, are a desideratum in collections. As many people suppose that the nest of the Crow is similar to that of the magpie, it may be worth while giving a detailed description of it, since, in many essential points, it differs from the latter. What may be termed the outer wall of a magpie's nest is composed of dead sticks, these nearly always branches of the haw- thorn and blackthorn; some of them are thick as a finger, 80 . The Naturalist in Siluria. and so attached to the tree in which the nest is placed that the removal of it would either entail its destruction or cut- ting off' the tree's top. With the Crow's nest it is dif- ferent ; this being set in a fork of the trunk with little or no fastening, and can be lifted out bodily without break- ing it up. Besides, the materials of the outer wall are not thorns, but the slender twigs of other trees, none of them thicker than a penholder. Those in the nest before me are nearly all oak, with a strand or two of honey- suckle entwined, evidently to bind them together. But what seems strangest about it is, that the oak twigs are all freshly torn from the tree or trees. I say torn, since each shows a ragged end, quite different from what would appear had it been snapped or broken off, and as if detached by a process of pulling and twisting. Now, as this nest was in an oak standing amidst other oaks in a wood, the twigs, no doubt, were obtained from the trees around, and, I believe, plucked from them by the birds themselves, since there are none lying loose upon the ground, and no work going on in the wood where sprays of this description could be obtained. There are nearly two hundred of these slender rods forming the outer wall, bent round it, and slightly wattled. Again, a magpie's nest is usually domed over, while that of the Crow is quite open at the top, the whole structure being hemispherical. The one before me is eighteen inches in diameter across the top, of which the wall of twigs, with inside lining included, occupies one half, being about four and a half inches thick. The author of "The Gamekeeper at Home," speaking of Carrion Crows, says : " The keeper smites them hip and thigh, and if he comes across the nest placed on the broad top of a pollard tree not on the branches, but on The Nest of " Corvus Corone." 81 the trunk sends his shot through it, to smash the eggs." I never heard of a crow's nest "on the broad top of a pollard tree " ; but whether there or elsewhere, I should say that the keeper who acts as above were a man without much intelligence, and silly in so wastiag his ammunition. For the wall- work of a Carrion Crow's nest is so thick, and of such" solid structure, no shot of gun, save the bullet of a big bore, could possible be sent through it. Perhaps the most notable difference in the nests of these two birds is their lining, with the materials com- posing it. In the magpie's nest there is only one layer, which is some sort of threadlike, fibrous substance, ap- parently the root processes of the ivy. A compost of mud, or clay where it can be had, is laid underneath these rootlets to attach them to the wattle- work of sticks. The interior of the Crow's nest is altogether different, there being two layers of lining composed of various materials. Nor is there any mud, clay, or such earthy matters, though Montagu and other ornithologists say there is. I myself have never seen such in the Crows' nests that have come under my observation. The lining, as I have said, is two-fold : first, a layer of grass, this also of two sorts cooch, and a broad-leafed kind common in our woods, and known to the woodmen as " deer grass." These mixed together form a stratum of an inch thick, resting immediately on the groundwork of twigs ; while the extreme inner lining, of about the same thickness, is composed of many substances, combined and closely felted together so as to make a neat hemi- spherical cavity. Pulling them apart, I find horsehair to predominate with wool; and a few birds' feathers, among them two or three wing primaries of the wild pigeon (Quest). But, mirabile dictu ! human hair also, woman's G 82 The Naturalist in Siluria. hair, a thick tress of it, full fourteen inches in length, and of a beautiful dark auburn hue. Where this could have come from, or how the Crows got hold of it, it is hard to say. Were it a short twisted tuft, one might believe it the castaway combings of a head ; but a tress of such thickness, length, and beauty, where is the woman or girl likely to part with the precious treasure ? Nor is this all, my Crow's nest affording still other food for curious reflection. In its varied material of lining are several scraps of old newspapers ; which, as with the nest of a chaffinch I have already given account of, have been taken chiefly from the advertising columns, these two setting forth the merits of various patent medicines. Conspicuous among them is a " cure all," warranted to relieve every ill flesh is heir to. I refrain from giving the name of this wonderful specific, lest I might be accused of puffing it. Therefore the curious must be contented with my telling them it is not " Cockle's Antibilious Pills." THE CROW A FAMILY BIRD. Acute and conscientious as was the naturalist of Sel- borne, he has made some mistakes ; one about the Crow, or, as commonly called, " Carrion" Crow (Corvus corone), which he tells us " goes in pairs the whole year round." An error that, with many more in relation to the habits of this bird, has been perpetuated by Yarrell and most other English ornithologists, so as to become the stereo- typed phraseology of the encyclopedias. I am able to state for certain that the Crow never The Carrion Grow a Cleanly Bird. 83 goes in pairs save during the days of nest-building. If seen thus at any other period of the year, it is because the nest has been robbed, or the brood in some way de- stroyed, leaving the bereaved parent birds alone for the length of another twelvemonth. But when successful in the hatching and bringing up their young, there is no separation nor pairing. Instead, the whole family keeps together though apart from all others throughout after summer, autumn, and winter, on till nesting-time in spring. To verify this habit, I have been for years observing the behaviour of the bird, and can now vouch for it as a fact. My opportunities are excellent, as the Carrion Crow is common in my neighbourhood, more than one family having their cantonments near. A pair annually breed in a hanging wood contiguous to my grounds, and last year they were successful in raising their brood of four j since which time all six the old with the young have consorted together, never for an hour being apart. At the same time I know of a single pair, not far off, keeping by themselves. But I know also that this want of sociality is not their natural habit, but forced upon them, either by bird-nesting boy or the gun of the gamekeeper. THE CARRION' CROW A CLEANLY BIRD. Notwithstanding the foul habits attributed to the Carrion Crow, even to giving it its common name, it is in person one of the cleanliest of birds, and addicted to frequent ablutions. Even in the cold days of winter I 84 The Naturalist in Siluria. have often seen Carrion Crows washing themselves in a brook that runs through my land ; and but three days ago I saw one on a spot of grass meadow which the brook had overflown, the bird plunging and rolling about in the water with apparent delight, while it sent the spray in showers all around it. After the bath it flew up to a tree near by, and there alighting, shook the water from its body and wings, then went on preening its feathers, at intervals giving them a fresh, vigorous shake. As there was but the one in sight, I take it for granted it was the cock bird, the hen being at the time on her nest. Had it been otherwise, the pair would certainly have been together, or in visible proximity, for, winter or summer, the Corvus corone is never seen alone, save when its mate and the younger members of its family have fallen victims to gin or gun. ABRUPT DISAPPEARANCE OF CROWS AND MAGPIES. While out on a long drive, I was once struck with the almost total disappearance of Crows and Magpies from places where previous to that day I had been accustomed to see them. Going the same round but a few days before, I had observed the latter in troops of ten, twenty, or thirty, loudly vociferous, their chattering scarce ever out of my ears. Now only one, or at most a pair, is to be seen ,t a time, and silent as mice. The explanation is, of course, that these birds have mated, and gone about building their nests, or repairing the old ones of Magpies ; or, the English Birds of Paradise. 85 last year. When so occupied, the Magpie is shy, if not sly ; and will accumulate a half-barrowful of faggots on the top of a Scotch fir close to your house, and, it may be, right over your head, without your having seen it carry a stick thither ! The disappearance of the Crow (I speak of Oorvus corone) rom its customary haunts, much more interested me. For I may almost claim individual acquaintance with every bird of this species belonging to the parish I reside in, with parts of others adjacent. I at least know every family, with the field, ay, almost the exact spot, where each could have been found any day throughout the past winter. Their absence from these places told me they too were occupied with the building of new nests, or renovating the old ones. MAGPIES; OR, THE ENGLISH BIRDS OF PARADISE. It is scarce necessary to say that Magpies are numerous in Siluria, as in most places where woods abound. Just now, however, and for the two months past, any one passing along our roads might imagine them in greater numbers than they really are. For one of their habits, hitherto not much observed, is to congregate in the early days of spring, and remain so for several weeks; the purpose evidently courtship, and the choosing of partners for the nesting season to ensue. I have counted as many as twenty thus together ; and their excited manner, with much vociferation, would lead one to believe that this fife 86 Magpies ; or, the English Birds of Paradise. 87 was the business they were about. It may be that the old pairs are constant to one another, for certainly the same nest is used year after year, and most likely by the same birds. If so, the clamorous congregation may have for object only the mating and marriage of the young ones ; and the chattering, oft in tone of angry objurga- tion, may be disputes between their parents as to fitness and settlement. It is said that in some parts of England the Magpie has become quite a rara avis, having been persecuted almost to extermination by both farmer and gamekeeper. A pity this, for it is one of our most beautiful and interesting birds, its presence a cheer and ornament to field and tree. A neighbourhood, or homestead, would not seem English without it. And if Magpies do, now and then, pilfer from the partridge's or pheasant's nest, and carry off chick or duckling, they make amends for such damage by destroying an infinite number of noxious creatures, far more harmful than themselves. It appears to me that this beautiful bird is ornitho- logically the northern representative of the famed Birds of Paradise of the tropics, of a nearly allied family, if not, indeed, the same. Its voice, habits, close-set, velvet-like plumage, with changing metallic tints, and, above all, its ample development of tail, point to it as being a so-called Paradise bird that special to the more temperate climes. Last year, while taking the young out of a Magpie's nest for purposes of examination, I was impressed with this fact in observing the behaviour of one of the parent birds. Flying excitedly from tree to tree, now and then clinging to a branch in upright attitude, with body elon- gated, wings outspread in a tremulous motion, and the long trowel- shaped tail, with side feathers graduated in 88 The Naturalist in Siluria. regular echelon, all the while giving utterance to wild, agonized cries very screams it presented a spectacle beautiful as touching. If I mistake not, Mr. Wallace, in his fine book about the Oriental Archipelago, describes the Birds of Paradise as behaving in a very similar manner. ARE MAGPIES GREGAKIOUS ? As a rule, Magpies are seen singly, or in pairs, and most people know of the superstitious feeling attached to their appearance, as thus formulated : One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three a marriage, Four a boy. Were there any truth in these old saws, and it is wonder- ful how they are believed in, some neighbourhoods would show a preponderance of sorrow; while in others the wedding bells would be kept constantly ringing, and places become over-peopled. This last would surely be the case in some of the western shires where woods abound, and where four or more Magpies consorting together is quite a common sight. In my own neigh- bourhood, the southern part of Herefordshire, it is almost a rarity to see but one or two together ; and last week sixteen of the noisy chatterers were counted close to my house consorting in a single flock. This, however, is a somewhat singular occurrence, and no doubt due to the Are Magpies Gregarious ? 89 abnormal mildness of the weather, the Magpies mistak- ing it for spring. When spring comes, there will be nothing strange in it, as then these birds congregate in large assemblages, often of twenty or more, for courtship and marriage; and when married, models of constancy they become. -But, apart from their association at pairing time, and in the fields, I have evidence, lately gained, of their tendency to gregariousness, which I believe to be their real habit when in sufficient numbers to indulge in it. Three weeks ago my gun-man, instructed to get me a pair for purposes of scientific examination, found nigh a score of them in the same night roosting-place for the time was just before nightfall. Nor were they roosted on tall timber, but among young oaks not much larger than apple trees, with the trunks ivy-entwined, and last year's leaves still on. A copse it is, of about an acre in extent, standing solitary and apart, though between two exten- sive tracts of woodland, and scarce two hundred yards from the edge of either. Why this preference for the copse as a roosting-place, over the continuous woods, is of itself a singular circumstance, and one I am unable to explain. Whether a better shelter or not, the latter would certainly have been a safer one, notably in the present instance, since my man had no difficulty in bringing down a pair of the birds as they screamed and fluttered among the branches such a little way above his head. The Magpie, which I believe to be the temperate-zone representative of the tropical Birds of Paradise, is pos- sessed of a beauty little known and too little appreciated. Viewed from a distance, only black and white colours in severe contrast are distinguishable ; but taken in hand, 90 The Naturalist in Siluria. just after being killed or caught, its iridescent raiment shows tints in brightness rivalling the hues of the rainbow. It will be a surprise to ornithologists when I prove as I hope ere long to be able to do that in England we have two distinct species of this very familiar bird ! MAGPIES IN A MADHOUSE. I have received account of a singular incident, furnished me by the chaplain of a west- county lunatic asylum, in which five of these birds were kept as pets for the amuse- ment of the patients. They had been in the establish- ment before the chaplain received his appointment to it ; and one day, shortly after entering on his duties, he was out in the grounds along with several others, when a Magpie flew towards him, alighted on his shoulder, and commenced nibbling at his ear. Astonished, and some- what annoyed, he brushed the bird off; only to have it return again, and recommence the pecking process, which gave him no pain, as the thing was done gently, and seemingly in play. Still it tickled, while further as- tonishing him ; all the more after repeated drivings off and back-comings of the bird. Not till then became he aware of the cause of its persistency, this a strange one. It appeared, as told him, that he bore a striking like- ness to a former patient in the asylum, lately deceased, who had been a favourite of this Magpie, the bird being The Nesting of Hooks and Magpies. 91 his especial pet, and that the man had taught it the manoeuvre which, misled by the personal resemblance, it was now essaying to practise on himself 1 THE NESTING OF EOOKS AND MAGPIES. Speaking of nests, a comparison between those of the Eook and Magpie suggests itself. Though so much alike, as seen on the tops of tall trees, closer examination shows many points of difference. That of the Magpie inclines to an oval shape, and is usually domed or otherwise roofed over. It is also a more elaborate structure, if I may use the expression, with more " basket work " about it, and firmly attached to the tree-fork. A Rook's nest is negli- gently constructed, with the sticks laid loosely upon one another rather than wattled. The winter blasts afford evidence of this difference in construction, as regards permanency, the former defying them even in the most exposed situations, while the latter gives way to them in places comparatively sheltered. The Magpie builds a house it intends to inhabit year after year, during its season of incubation, and for that purpose will return to it if left unmolested; whereas the Rook, though coming back again to the same place and tree, seems not to regard the labour of re- building. 92 The Naturalist in Siluria. THE CUNNING OF ROOKS IN THEIR CHOICE OF NESTING-PLACES. I have often noticed the preference of Rooks for build- ing about churches, as a proof of instinct, or, to call it by its proper name, an act of ratiocination, admonish- ing them that such places afford greater security. I might have added that the same process of reasoning also guides them to build in gentlemen's parks, and by grand mansions, knowing these to be, if not sacred as the precincts of the church, equally, or even more, safe from the intrusion of nest-robbing boys and the danger of ten-shilling licensed guns. I know of parks where Rooks have their nests on trees so low, and, to coin a word, so climbable, that a six-years-old urchin might easily ascend to and despoil them either of their egg treasures or chicks. But the proprietors will not allow this ; and so year after year the birds come back with equal, and, it may be, increased, confidence. THE ROOK IN A COURT OF LAW. Many people desire to have a rookery in proximity to their houses ; nor can there be any wonder at this. For, despite some disagreeables attendant, the cawing of these birds, so familiar as to seem the conversation of friends, with the opportunity of watching their many quaint ways and movements, is certainly worth something. Yet is there great difficulty, as an Know who have tried it, in getting Rooks to breed upon trees not self-chosen ; and The Roolc in a Court of Law. 93 various artifices have been resorted to as attractions. It is oot of these I intend speaking- now, but to relate an anecdote furnished me by my friend W. Baker, Esq., of Lincoln's Inn, showing the Rook in a court of law, into which it was unwittingly dragged, as many of the human kind often are unwillingly. The Probate Court it was, the episode occurring in Ireland Tipperary, too where resided Mr. C., an old gentleman of large estates and noted eccentricity in his habits. Having a small rookery by his house, and wanting to enlarge it, by way of en- couraging more birds to build, he had bundles of sticks cut into convenient lengths and laid in litter all round the place ; which the Rooks, as is their wont, made free use of. But another eccentricity of Mr. C., which in the end proved less innocuous, was a mania for making wills. Many made he, year after year; so many and so varied in their conditions, as also the beneficiaries they referred to, that when he at length took departure from the world the difficulty was to determine which will was the latest made and legally valid one. As the natural consequence, there was dispute between several claimants, resulting in an expensive lawsuit of long continuance, epitome of which I give in Mr. Baker's own words, quoted from a letter lately received from him. "When Mr. C. died, there was a lawsuit about his estate. Lord Longford v. Purdon was the name of the action, and I think it was compromised last year. One of the pieces of evidence produced to show that he (Mr. C.) was of unsound mind, was the fact that he assisted Ins Rooks to build their nests ! My attention had been called to the case in a marked way, owing to the fact that in one will (unfortunately not the right one) he had named some connections of mine as legatees." 94 The Naturalist in Siluria. Had Barham, while writing his " In goldsby Legends/' but known of this Tipperary incident, he might have given it a place alongside the " Jackdaw of Rheims." THE JAY A CARRION FEEDER. While an incident chronicled below shows the alliance of the Jay to hawks and shrikes, it also partakes to some extent of a vulturine character. For not only does it eat fresh meat of all sorts and kinds even greedily devouring fat bacon but will not disdain that which is tainted. I could recount many instances of its feeding on carrion dead sheep left lying neglected near a wood's edge, or unburied offal thrown out by a farmstead sharing the repulsive banquet with rat, stoat, weazel, magpie, and tomtit, to say nothing' of Canis domesticus. Odd enough that in his stroll through Savernake Forest, the same in which he was witness to the encounter spoken of a reverend friend of mine and his companions came upon the body of a dead deer a carcase fast h astening to putrefaction with a Jay perched upon it, " stocking " away with all its might ! The scientific names given to bird, quadruped, reptile, or insect should, where possible, set forth some indication of its character and habits. Unfortunately, this golden rule is too often disregarded, the vanity of naturalists especially they of the closet leading them to bestow titles complimentary to friends and patrons, so making the nomenclature of zoology unintelligible as ludicrous. The Jay a Cannibal Bird. 95 As regards the Jay being called Garrulus glandarius, there is nothing of this, the name being more a miscon- ception. For after the habits of the bird, as above described and attested to, who could think it appro- priate ? THE JAY A CANNIBAL BIRD. I have never known Jays so numerous in my neighbour- hood (South Herefordshire) as they are at the present time, and have been for a year or two back. Throughout the past winter, and the autumn preceding, it has been a common sight to see flocks of from half a dozen to a score skirmishing about orchards, or along high hawthorn hedges, screeching as though they would split open their throats. This is evidence sufficient that exceptionally inclement and trying winters, which make havoc among many other species of birds, have done no hurt to them. On the contrary, as I am inclined to think, that ex- tremely rigorous winters are rather in their favour, providing them with, as it were, a perpetual feast, and the food most to their liking, which, I believe, is not acorn, but flesh. During the long-continued snows of January, 1880, and 1881, there was scarce a hedgerow that had not fieldfares and redwings lying dead alongside it, killed, not by the cold, but hunger ; since in both years preceding the wild berry crop had failed, and everything else eatable by these migratory birds was for weeks buried up beyond their reach. Many of our permanently resident kinds perished also, but certainly no Jays, these finding sport, or at least plenteous sustenance, in what was 96 The Naturalist in Siluria. death to the others. Cannibal- like, more than once have I seen them gorging themselves on the flesh of fieldfares that had fallen victims to the snow, seeming to hold revel over the unnatural banquet. "GARBULUS GLAND ARIUS " A MISNOMER. It seems to me that the ornithological name bestowed upon this bird is a misnomer, both generically and specifi- cally. Many other birds are as noisy chatterers, some even more so, the magpie, for instance, and parrots in their wild state, while it is not specially a feeder upon acorns. Neither does it seem correctly classed in the family Corvidce, in which most ornithologists place it; for, though the smallest member of this family inhabiting England, it is, in reality, more rapacious than any of them, the raven not excepted. Besides, if anatomical structure be reliable as a guide to habits, the denticulated upper mandible of the Jay's beak, with its sharp curving claws, points to relationship with the Falconidce quite as much as with the Corvidce. But there is another family with which it seems to have a still closer kinship the shrikes (Laniadce). There is a striking resemblance between it and the great grey shrike, or butcher-bird (Lanius excubitor), not only in the dentition, but in many of their ways and habits, both being murderous birds. For I have reason to know that during the winters of 1879-80 and 1880-81 the Jays did not always await their weak bird brethren succumbing to death from starvation, but in many cases forestalled it by killing them. " Garrulus Glandarius " a Misnomer. 97 Ifc seems even less known, if, indeed, ever suspected, that the Jay often deals death to quadrupeds as well as birds. Quadrupeds, too, of no diminutive size, or without the strength to defend themselves, such as mice. For it will kill young rabbits, and, what is more, the squirrel, a robust, active animal, of pugnacious, predatory habit, which even the stoat often finds a doughty adversary. A well-attested case of Jays attempting the life of a squirrel, which would have been successful but for outside inter- ference, has just come under my notice, furnished by my friend, the Rev. Arthur Armitage, chaplain of the Military College at Oxford. With some companions, he was ex- ploring Savernake Forest, near Marlborough, Wiltshire, when their attention was attracted to a pair of Jays excitedly fluttering about among the branches, and giving utterance to their well-known screech, in tone harsher and seemingly angrier than usual. Drawing up to them, it was seen that they were engaged in combat with a squirrel, repeatedly darting at and pecking it; the quadruped doing the best it could to defend itself. So earnestly were the birds occupied with their murder- ous design, that the tourists got quite close to them before being perceived. Then desisting, the birds flew off, while the squirrel, disabled, was easily caught. On examination, it was found that one of its eyes was already gone, pecked clean out of the socket ; while other injuries showed where it had suffered from the beaks of the Jays, sharp and hard as steel. Unquestionably they would have killed it outright but for the accidental inter- ruption. 98 The Naturalist in Siluria. A LIVING JAY WITH BOTH LEGS BROKEN AND THE SKULL CRUSHED IN. I have just received the legs of a Jay lately shot in some preserved woods between Ross and Ledbury both broken but healed up again. The bird had evidently been caught in a gin-trap, from which it had been taken by the gamekeeper and cast down as dead. And, besides the broken legs, a portion of its skull had been crushed in, as if by the butt of the gamekeeper's gun or the heel of his boot. All this damage must have been done to it months before, and yet the creature still lived, and when shot was in good condition, flying about among the trees as if it had never received injury ! The stoat, taken some two years ago in Shropshire, which had been several times trapped, leaving it only one leg, might be quoted as a parallel case. But, no; as regards tenacity of life, I can believe anything of a member of the family Mustelidce, especially after seeing, as I last summer did, one of its smallest species, a weasel, do battle with a large sheep dog for nearly an hour, before it was finally conquered and killed ! THE WAYS OF THE DORMOUSE. The account I have given below of the Dormouse, as to its extracting nut kernels, has been confirmed by so accu- rate an observer as Mr. Harrison Weir. He seems to think, however, that the kernel is loose in the shell, and the animal turns the nut about, so as to bring it in contact The Ways of the Dormouse. 99 with the hole already drilled. This is not so. The kernel adheres to the shell, filling up all its interior, and is scraped off piecemeal, as I described it. After a night's feeding for it is by night the Dormouse does most of its eating several nuts will be left with the kernel but partly consumed, these to be cleaned out at the next meal. I have examined them thus in all stages, from the shell half-full to only a small morsel remaining at the bottom, and invariably to see the gouge-like track of the creature's teeth all over the rasped (not gnawed) surface, this itself being always eaten down level, with no in- equalities left save the marks of the incisors. The only part of the performance I am unable to explain is, how the detached pieces are extracted from the shell. The hole is too small to admit even the animal's snout, save with closed jaws, and thus it could not possibly take the chips up in its teeth. Therefore they must be got out by one of two ways either by being spitted on the sharp- pointed incisors of the lower jaw, or licked up by the tongue. The latter, I take it, will prove to be the solution of the enigma. And first, another note in connection with the hazel nuts. These are often without any kernel, a circum- stance the Dormouse is not aware of till it has penetrated through the shell, making a hole not much larger than the head of a pin. Then, with the tongue no doubt, discovering there is nothing eatable inside, it drops that nut, and tackles on to another. And, as further proof that the creature's instincts are not infallible, but, indeed, rather blind, I have known it return to the same empty shell, and open a hole at the opposite end, to meet with a like disappointment. Whether while drilling this second hole it remembered having made the first one, I 100 The Naturalist in Siluria. cannot tell ; but I should think not, and that the useless afterwork was as that of certain tropical insects boring hole after hole through a thin board, as a place of deposit for their eggs, each time to find themselves back into daylight on the reverse side. A like delusion has been frequently observed in the case of the sand, or bank, martin repeatedly tunnelling its way through a mud wall. Small as is the Dormouse its weight being under an ounce it is a very glutton, three kept by me in the same cage consuming in a single night three full-sized chest- nuts and fifteen hazel nuts, the shells excepted. In bulk this mass of food eaten by each must have been equal to its own body, even exceeding it. But their digestive powers are great, and of quick action, as shown by the quantity of droppings every day needing to be cleared out of the cage. No sort of vegetable food offered them will be refused; and though nuts are undoubtedly their preferred diet, they have also a relish for apples. The largest pippin dropped into a Dormouse's cage will soon disappear, skin, seeds, and all. I have said that they do their eating chiefly by night, and it is during the night hours they are awake and active, sleeping most part of the day. If kept in a dark place, there will be some modification in this habit, though not much. About daybreak they invariably retire to the dormitory compartment of the cage, to issue forth from it at, or after, sunset. For in their wild state they are habitually nocturnal, one of the reasons why so little is seen or known of them. Tree climbers they are, too, as much as pine martens or squirrels, if not more, though generally contenting themselves with the ascent of hedge bushes, or hazels, to the branches of which I have seen The Ways of the Dormouse. 101 them clinging in all attitudes, back downward as often as otherwise. The prehensile power of their claws is not only great but something inexplicable. While handling a Dormouse in a semi- somnolent state, it caught hold of my finger by the claws of one of its hind feet, and hang- ing from it, absolutely dangling down, went off into a sound sleep ; so remaining till my patience became ex- hausted and I released the finger from its clutch. Had it been left to itself I have no doubt it would thus have slept its sleep out. The bat, with its hooked wing mem- brane, could not well do more. But the true sleeping attitude of the Dormouse is with snout and root of tail in juxtaposition, rolled up in spherical shape though not so perfect a sphere as the clewed hedgehog with the long, bushy, and distichous tail coiled spirally around. When in its winter, or hybernating sleep, the creature feels cold to the touch, and one unacquainted with this singular phenomenon would suppose it dead. Hold it for a time in the hand, however, and, so warmed, its beard bristles will be seen to move, the body rise and fall in gentle resperation, till at length it awakes, gradually un- folding itself as it becomes conscious of existence. Zoological writers place the Dormouse in the list of hybernating animals, and all believe it eminently so, as may be deduced from the name bestowed upon it. It certainly does hybernate, though, I fancy, not to the extent generally supposed. I had one brought me in the middle of January by a hedger, who had taken it while " pleaching " a hedge, at the bottom of which he found it, wide awake. And like enough in mild winters these little creatures are often up and about in the night, when there is no eye to observe them. If not, then their habits : undergo change in confinement, and when kept in a house. 102 The Naturalist in Siluria. In such situations they also sleep soundly and heavily, unlike the sleep of ordinary animals, but, as a rule, only in the day. And if near a fire, never for any great length of time, its duration seemingly dependent on the tem- perature around them. If cold, they slumber on; if warm, they will awake. I have much more to say about this most interesting quadruped ; but, as my note has already outrun the allotted space, I must leave it over till another opportunity. A CAGED DORMOUSE. On the 23rd of May a bark-stripper brought me a dor- mouse which he had captured in Penyard Wood, and in its nest. This was fixed high up in a bunch of broad- leaved grass, known to the woodmen as " deer- grass/' and was composed partly of the grass blades and partly of leaves of trees. Though a nest of the present year, strange to say, the Dormouse was not a young one, instead an old male, and wide awake when taken. The stripper tells me he has never known of an old one thus caught in the nest. As the latter was rather open at the top, con- trary to what is usual, it may have been unfinished, and the animal in the act of adding to it. Placed in a common bird-cage, and food offered it shelled hazel-nuts and canary-seed it refused to eat while under observation, showing shy and frightened. At night, however, when left to itself, it consumed a por- tion of both the nuts and seeds. Next day other eatables were introduced into the cage lettuce, sorrel, and groundsel all of which it ate, apparently with a relish. A Gaged Dormouse. 103 This evinces a fact, I believe, not hitherto noted, that green vegetables form part of the food of the Dormouse. By most naturalists it is described as subsisting on acorns, beech-mast, grain, haws, and hazel-nuts, especially the last, from which it has derived its specific name, Avellanarius a mistake and misnomer, according to Bell, who says : " The name Avellanarius is not well chosen, as the principal food of the Dormouse does not certainly consist of the hazel-nut ; indeed, I have never seen any that could gnaw through the shell of that nut when fully ripe and dry." My own observations, made on the one before me, are so far confirmatory of this view. After allowing it to hunger for two days, with only unshelled hazel-nuts in the cage, it did not gnaw through any of these shells, though it had tried several, as could be seen by its tooth- marks here and there over them. Still the specific name, which was bestowed by Linnaeus, may not be so inappropriate, since there can be no doubt of the Dormouse feeding upon hazel-nuts, and being fond of them. But, I think, it can only get at their kernels when in the green state, before the shells become hardened. At that time it is often seen perched upon hazel trees far above the height of a man's head, and seemingly as much at home there as any bird. In reality, this beautiful little quadruped is more squirrel than mouse, though naturalists regard it as a connecting link holding half-way relations between the two. Certainly it looks like a miniature squirrel, the rufous colour of its coat and bushy herring-bone tail giv- ing it this appearance, while removing it from that of the mouse family, often so repulsive. Its habits, moreover, liken it more to the Sciuridce than the Muridce. It is a. 104 The Naturalist in Siluria. dweller among trees, or rather bushes, its prehensile claws giving it the power to climb, even to cling, with hinder feet, and at ease. Besides, it makes its nest among branches, as squirrels do. As these, too, it lays up a hoard of food usually haws, hazel-nuts, and beech-nuts and eats them seated on its haunches, and held in its fore-paws as by hands. It hybernates, also, as the squirrels, lying torpid and clewed up in a ball throughout the winter months. Yet I have known it awake in winter, even when very cold. Once in January, a hedger, pleaching a hedge near my house, caught a Dormouse curled up in dry grass at the bottom. If sleeping, it awoke, and showed con- siderable activity, at short intervals repeating its querulous cry in tiny treble. Taken home to the house, and put into a box-cage, it remained awake and lively afterwards; no doubt, from the indoors warmth. In very mild days of winter the squirrel rouses itself, and roams abroad ; and certainly the Dormouse does the same; but from its smaller size and nocturnal habits it is less liable to observation. Though the habitat of the Dormouse is usually remote from the habitations of men, no animal is more easily made a pet of. With slight care and training it will be- come tame and familiar, even to letting it run about loose ; a thing to be avoided, however, if there be felines in the neighbourhood. I knew of one that went regularly to bed with its owner, sleeping indifferently in a fold of the counterpane, between the sheets, or coiled up under the edge of the pillow. As a pet, many people esteem the Dormouse so much that half a guinea is often given for one ungrudgingly. This tells of their scarcity, for in no part of the British, Isles, that I know of, is it found in any great numbers, The Squirrel. 105 Its breeding nest is a hollow ball as those of the harvest and wood, or long-tailed, mouse the entrance rarely visible. It is sometimes set in a thick thorn-hedge or coppice ; but the favourite nesting-place of the Dor- mouse seems to be in a young beech with bushy top, on which the leaves stay all the winter through. I once saw a family of dormice thus domiciled, just after the young ones had got big enough to be abroad. The beech, a mere sapling, with stem not more than an inch in diauaeten and clear of branches for a yard or so, gave me an excel- lent opportunity for observing the behaviour of the little quadrupeds. They seemed to play as lambs, some run- ning down the stem on one side as others went up on the opposite ; and this in continuance, like the revolving links of an " endless chain." THE SQUIRKEL. It is hardly necessary to say that in a wooded district, as is the greater portion of the Wye Valley, Squirrels abound. I have them in a grove in my own grounds, while on Penyard's wooded hill, and throughout the adjacent Forest of Dean, they are common enough. Our English Squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris) is interesting for many reasons. Its beauty, both of form and colour, its wonderful agility, with its many pretty ways, make it one of the greatest ornaments of our woodland scenery. Besides, it is the only indigenous tree-climbing and tree- inhabiting quadruped we have in our islands. I will not here enjier into lengthened particulars of its ordinary 106 The Naturalist in Siluria. habits or life-history, which will be found in zoological works and encyclopaedias. All know that it makes its nest in a forking branch, usually high up in the tree, building it very much after the manner of birds, the material being twigs deftly interwoven, lined with moss and leaves. In this it brings forth its young, often as many as five in a litter. These for months follow the mother about, as chickens do the hen that has hatched SQUIRREL. them. The little kittens keep company with their parents all through the winter, and until the warmer weather of spring causes a break-up of the family circle, the separation being due to that instinct which leads to the perpetuation of their species. The Squirrel, classed among hyberna- ting animals, is not wholly so. On a warm winter day it wakes up, and strays about in search of something to The Squirrel 107 eat. It usually knows where to find this, since it is one of the prudent creatures which lay up a store against times of scarcity. As the nuthatch, its favourite food is the hazel-nut, though it is also given to eating grain, beech-mast, and a variety of other vegetable substances. Unfortunately for its character of innocence, it does not confine itself to these, but has been known to rob birds' nests, sucking the eggs, and devouring the callow young. Insect larvae of less consequence as regards the injury done it also makes an occasional meal of, proving this playful rodent, supposed to be so harmless, a very vora- cious creature. But it does damage of a different and still more serious kind this to vegetation itself. Among the items of its diet are the seeds of coniferous trees, for which it has a penchant almost equalling that for the hazel-nuts. It skilfully extracts them, sitting upon its haunches, holding the cone between its paws, and peeling off the scales with its teeth. If it went no further than eating the seeds, no one would object. But unfortunately it does go further; and in early spring, when the fir cones are all empty or rotted by winter rains, and the young leaf-buds begin to show upon the trees, the Squirrel makes sad havoc among these. Still another kind of damage it does, hitherto unknown to me, and of which I have just heard. One of the woodwards of the Forest of Dean informs me that in the larch plantations over which he had ward- ship for some years past, he had now and then noticed large branches, and even tops of the trees themselves, broken off by the wind. Some of them were of large size, thick as a man's thigh ; and for long he could not tell why Eolus was dealing such wholesale destruction, for there were acres upon acres of the larch woods 108 The Naturalist in Siluria. strewed with the dead and broken branches. He learnt at length, discovering the cause to be Squirrels ! Their mode of procedure was by peeling off the bark, not only in isolated patches, but in broad rings all round the branch or bole of the tree their object, of course, being to eat it and thus naturally killing so much of the branch as was above, which, after a time decaying, gave way before the wind. From the manner in which my informant speaks of the circumstance, I fancy that hence- forth Squirrels will be scarce in the Forest of Dean, especially in that portion of it committed to his care. I have spoken of the colour of our English Squirrel, pronouncing it pretty. In its summer coat it is so cer- tainly : above, a beautiful chestnut-red, and below, white. In winter the upper parts become greyish, and in northern countries, like many other animals, often nearly pure white. But here, in Herefordshire, I have to record a very singular family, as regards colour, which was found in the Forest of Dean, not far from that pic- turesque spot well-known to Wye tourists as " Symond's Yat." One of the woodwards, already spoken of, going his rounds in that neighbourhood, observed a Squirrel of the usual reddish colour, but having a snow-white tail. His idea was, that it might be an old one, age having im- parted to it the hoary distinction. He thought no more about the thing till, several weeks afterwards, when, passing by the same place, he saw what he supposed to be the same squirrel, but not now alone ; instead, accom- panied, or rather followed, by five lesser squirrels, its kittens, all with white tails, miniature imitations of the mother ! This time, having his gun with him, he could not resist shooting the parent, while the quintette of kits scampered off into the underwood, where he lost sight of The "Hut" of the Squirrel 109 them. The dam was sent to a Monmouth taxidermist, by whom it was skinned, stuffed, and mounted, and long afterwards shown by him among other noted curiosities. THE "HUT" OF THE SQUIRREL. Fortunately for the naturalist, as the lover of nature, not all the snares, gins, and ten-shilling licensed guns can either exterminate this interesting quadruped or apparently much reduce it in numbers. In most wooded districts, despite all persecution, it maintains its ground ; and from correspondents in Ireland and Scotland I learn that in both these countries for some years past its numbers appear to be increasing, rather than diminish- ing. In the Forest of Dean and other woods in the Welsh bordering shires squirrels are plenteous too abun- dant, say the proprietors of fir plantations, to which, it cannot be denied, these animals do considerable damage, especially to larches. In hard winters they strip the bark from the branches round and round; and though there be but a twig thus bared, of course all the spray that is above it perishes. In early spring also they gnaw off the young leaf-buds, so injuring the health and retard- ing the growth of the tree. During later spring and summer they are destructive to birds' eggs, but in autumn nuts and acorns furnish them with their preferred food ; the latter supply the staple of it, and both are hoarded for a winter store. But this note is not meant to give a detailed account of the squirrel'* s habits, only of its nest, or "hut/' one of which I have now before me, taken 110 The Naturalist in Siluria. from a tree in the Forest of Dean. It is of rounded form, and roofed, with side entrance, its bulk being about that of a child's head ; and, as with the nests of most birds, it is double-walled, having an outside layer and lining. The former is composed of coarse moss, with an admixture of sheep's wool, and, more sparingly employed, broad strips of bark, the thin outer epidermis of young oaks. The material of the inner wall or lining is alto- gether different, consisting exclusively of the under or sap-bark of the oak, split into fibre-like strands, some of them fine as sewing-thread, their ragged ends and edges showing evidence that the splitting had been done by the animal's teeth. Now, to procure this material, and hackle it into the required condition, must have cost the squirrel, or pair of squirrels, a considerable amount of labour, independent of the task of construction. The question, therefore, suggests itself, why this extra toil when other substances, seemingly equally suitable, were to be had in plenty around ? Just by the tree from which this hut was taken there grow grasses of several species, some of them slender- bladed as the bark fibres used in its lining, and these could have been had with but the slightest exertion of strength or teeth. The employment of some preferred material in the construc- tion of their nests is one of the most singular habits, or instincts, of birds, and one still hidden among the arcana of nature. But not less singular that squirrels, also nestbuilders, should show a like instinct, for of other huts I have examined the materials were the same. The Squirrel a Pest in Fir Plantations. Ill THE SQUIRREL A PEST IN FIR PLANTATIONS. In early spring squirrels do considerable damage in the Forest of Dean by eating the bark and leaf buds of the young larches. Some days ago my gunman who, by the kind permission of my friend Sir James Campbell, has free range of the Forest brought home to me a batch of squirrels he had shot. All were in fine condition, quite fat, and unlike animals late aroused from the slumber of hibernation, which likely they had not much indulged in during the past mild winter. There were in all six of these squirrels, and they differed a good deal in size, as also in colour ; some being of a much more vivid red, with the coats glossier, than others. On opening their stomachs I found them filled with a greenish sub- stance, so comminuted as to be unrecognisable, though it looked like young larch leaves gnawed to a pulp. Mingled with it were soft masses of a yellowish white stuff, I took to be ants' eggs, also pulped. The squirrel, notwithstanding its pretty playful habits and innocent look, is one of the most vicious of quadru- peds, as also the most courageous ; especially the female when the mother of young. At this time, if the nest or " hut " be approached by any one climbing up to it, she will assail the intruder with all the fury of an enraged cat, and has been known under such circumstances to bite people severely. They are equally valiant when attacked by dog or other animal ; and one of my ferret- keeping friends assures me, that a ferret has more diffi- culty in conquering a squirrel than a weasel, and far more than in killing the fiercest rat. The boys who live around the Forest of Dean often gang together, on Sundays or idle holidays, and go in chase of squirrels. 112 The Naturalist in Siluria. Not allowed to carry a gun into the enclosures, their weapons are usually stones and sticks. Their mode of proceeding is for one boy to " swarm" up the tree in which a squirrel is seen, force the animal off it to another, and so on till they get it into a tree standing well apart from the others. Driven out of this, its last stronghold as it were, it has no resource but to leap to the ground, where a " surround " of its pursuers has been previously arranged for cutting off its retreat, in which they are often successful. Squirrels are sometimes snared, not by set snares, but a running noose of fine spring wire fastened on the tip of a pole, light and long as a fishing rod. This, cautiously and dexterously handled, is slipped over the squirrel's head, as it lies quiet along the limb of a tree ; when, at length, taking the alarm, and attempting to scamper off, the animal finds itself fast in the wire, to be instantly jerked to earth. THE WEASEL FAMILY. Writing these notes, specially intended for the com- prehension of those who have given but little attention to zoological studies, I may be pardoned for repeating, what every naturalist knows, that in the British Isles there are six native species of the Mustelidce, or Weasel tribe, and one of doubtful foreign origin. The former, all wild, are the Weasel itself, typical representative and smallest of the family, the Stoat, Polecat, Pine, and Stone Martens ; with the Otter, differing in genus ; the The Weasel Family. 113 latter a tame or domesticated species the Ferret. Mr. St. John, in his very interesting work, "Wild Sports an