About the Feathered Folk Crona Temple UNIVERSITY OF CALSFGRN1A LOS ANGELES THE QUIET HOUR SERIES. ABOUT THE FEATHERED FOLK. BY CRONA TEMPLE, I- AUTHOR Of 'CRIFFINHOOF," " WITH HOOKS OF STEEI.," ETC. " Tis always morning somewhere : and above The waking continents from shore to shore Somewhere the biids are linking evermore." PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF TJIB CKNKKAL LITERATURE COMMlTTtt. S.P.C.K., LONDON: NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, w.c. ; 43f QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, E.C. G76 CONTENTS. CHAFTEX PAGB J. THE HOMELESS BIRD, AND THE BIRD THAT DOES NOT FORGET ... ... 5 II. GOLDEN EAGLES ... 21 III. THE BROWN GOWN, AND THE JEWELLED ROBE ... 37 IV- PENGUINS ... ... 54 V. THE MUSIC-MAKERS ... 69 VL CLIFF BIRDS AND THEIR COLONIES 87 VII. THE CITY BIRD, AND HIS COUNTRY COUSIN ... 104 .'{61904 ABOUT THE FEATHERED FOLK. CHAPTER I. THE HOMELESS BIRD, AND THE BIRD THAT DOES NOT FORGET. BEEP in the bosom of the downs, almost hidden by steep hills, and those giant trees that grow in the south countr}', there is a certain farm. A lane leads to it, and past it; but traffic mostly turns in at the farm gates, and it is only but very rarely that wheels or footsteps make a further journey. So the road beyond the farm is 6 A lout the Feathered Folk. a grassy track, where foxgloves and harebells and tufts of fern are ranged in long lines of loveliness. And so peaceful and solitary can it be, that Hannah Hatherly once found a lark's nest there, in an old rut, the half-fledged little larklings not a whit disturbed by such few folk as passed that way. In January and February the frost builds fairy bridges across the ruts, and there is sometimes a glittering rime upon the spiders' webs amongst the briars; some- times gleams of russet and glory of scarlet where beech-leaves have been swept together into a hollow, or little knobs of fungus grow sturdily against a decaying bough. A robin hops leisurely along at these times on his way to the window-sill of the farm parlour, or a blackbird flies swiftly over the hawthorns, his beak open and his crop full of berries. Cuckoos and Swallows. 7 In March and April the whole beautiful world is astir : shrew-mice poke their slender noses between the young grasses ; periwinkles shine, blue as the sea, upon the bank among the fallen fir-needles; the sound of lambs bleating, of the woodman's axe in the oak-copse, of the call of the plough-boy to his team, come every minute. The pigeons whirl and flutter in the sky ; the farm do^ lies lazy at his kennel door ; and the cocks and heriS scuttle and clatter after pretty Hannah Hatherly as she carries their scoop of corn in her rosy arms to that spot on the further side of the pond, where neatness ordains they should eat it. The robin and the thrush, the shrew-mouse and the rest of the wild things not to mention Hannah and her cocks and hens have known the farm all their lives. In- deed, they scarcely know anything 8 A bout the Feathered Folk. in all the wide world beyond the farm and the lane and the quiet dreamy life of this sweet country side. But in April come two travelled creatures the Homeless Bird, and the Bird that does not forget. No fanciful names are these, but just an expression of the simple truth concerning the Cuckoo and the Swallow. The scent and the sweetness of the spring has lured them north- wards ; or, perhaps, it is our length- ening light for the shortness of the winter's day is gloriously made up to us by the evenings and mornings, which linger and open as soon as the middle of March is bygone ; and long daylight means long work- ing and feeding hours to insect- eating birds. Very familiar these two looked and sounded to Hannah Hatherly as she stood, spell-bound, in the Cuckoos and Swallows. 9 lane. The Cuckoo flew low and straight, his long tail steadying his flight, and balancing him upon the bough of beech where he lit, and cried again and again his "cuckoo cuckoo " call. Hannah laughed as she heard, and as she noted the fact of her face being turned north-eastwards as she stood. " London ! 'Tis to London I'm going ! " she said, under her breath, with a sense of shy and secret delight " London lies out there. And one travels the path one is facing for, when the first spring Cuckoo is heard." That is an old south-country superstition, you must know. Per- haps, as Hannah's sweetheart had work in London, and had written, bidding her be ready when he came to fetch his wife to his flourishing home, that journey Londonwards might come true, and the Cuckoo- io About the Feathered Folk. prophecy be verified, ere the year ran out. Such things do happen now and then ! The Swallow came wheeling and swinging through the air, the sun- light flashing on his burnished wings those beautiful wings, that might be made of steel and air, so strong and light are they ! His mate swept with him in rapid career, their twittering notes fall- ing in a joyous patter of sound, and ceasing suddenly, as they dashed together under the eaves of the cart- shed. Hannah knew what they sought there. Last year's nest yet hung against the angle of the rafters ; perhaps a bit cracked and dusty, but a drier and wholly more comfortable nest than any newly built one could prove. Just a little fresh lining, just a little patching and shaping, and there it would be, cosy and Cuckoos and Swallows. 1 1 staunch, ready to rear another brave brood. And there would be the old familiar feeling about it ! The same syringa bush grew at the corner ; the same poplar tree flung its flicker- ing shadow over the yard; the same great brown horses stamped about the stones j the same blue and yellow waggons stood back in the shelter ; even the same hank of cord hung on a peg behind the door. And so, with a gladness shown forth by little notes of broken song, by much fluttering of feathers, and glances of bright eyes, the Swallows settled themselves once more in their English home. If they had a feeling of pity for the Cuckoo, out there on the beech-tree, their sympathy was wasted ; for the Homeless Bird feels no sort of yearning for the delights to them so dear. 1 2 A bout the Feathered Folk. He sits and sings in his own monotonous way, echoing his call as he flits from hedgerow to copse, happy enough in his own debonnaire fashion. And people pause and listen and smile ; they love that note. It comes as a veritable bit of spring-time ; and for most folks pleasant memories and budding hopes are gathered about the spring. Cuckoos and Swallows the very sight and sound of them is welcome as the flowers. * * # * # It is always easy to comprehend what Swallows are about. The swift, fearless things, secure and confident, make no attempt to elude observation. They literally share the roof-tree of a man's house; they claim their place in the population of the village street; they come bustling into the very centres of human life and interests. But the ways of the Homeless Cuckoos and Swallows. 1 3 Bird are mysterious. Cuckoos are shy of taking humans into their confidence. It is only little by little that we have found out anything of their habits, their odd family arrange- ments, their goings and doings and comings. It is the male bird who repeats that constant song. His mate is busy with affairs of her own. She flies to and fro, peering and spying into the hedges and banks, watching narrowly the progress of the nests that are being built there. She stares at the hedge-sparrow's nest in the blackthorn bush ; she flies low over the wagtail's softly- lined corner in the stonework of the dyke ; she visits again and again the robin's beautifully woven nest in the gnarled root of the alder-tree. They might, any one of them, or all of them, be fitting places in which to put her children out to nurse. Wisely she judges and chooses. 14 About the Feathered Folk. Goldfinches would kill a baby Cuckoo in a week by stuffing it with food unfitted for its digestion. Starlings would choke it by some ponderous dainty no well-bred scansores (which is the family name of Cuckoos) could endure. But pied-wagtails and pipits and robins are exactly fitted to be foster-fathers and mothers to the nurslings which mistress Cuckoo intends throwing upon the cold world's charity. When her eggs are laid (upon the bare ground, as she has no soft and cunning cradle prepared for them by herself) she lifts them in her bill they are extremely small, these eggs, compared with the size of the bird and deposits them in the selected nests. And ten- derly the poor little woodland birds accept them as their own. The egg is about the size of a skylark's : the creature that is hatched from it must appear Cuckoos and Swallows. 1 5 gigantic to the foster-parents. Its appetite is gigantic too; and as for its manners like the South Sea Islanders, it "has none." It is a pathetic thing to see the gentle little anxious pair toiling hour by hour, and day by day, to satisfy the great gaping throat that always comes the uppermost in their nest. And after a while the other little throats, one by one, disappear. The intruder has murdered Ihe nestlings, and his ugly body a mere heaving lump of sprouting feathers is sprawling itself over the nest. Even then the little parents do not fail in their loving tendance. They toil eagerly en, and watch and brood and hover round the creature that so shame- fully abuses their kindness. We human beings speak glibly enough about "instinct." But it is a puzzling subject. Even the sagest naturalists confess they know 1 6 About the Feathered Folk. but little about it. Nowhere does it show more curiously than in the habits of the Cuckoo. This extremely odd way of pro- viding for their young must have some wise reason in it, although it is hidden, as yet, from our eyes. And the murdering part of the affair, outrageous as it appears, may not be altogether wrong ; for the callow Cuckoo has a strange de- pression on its back, apparently designed for the express purpose of enabling it to shovel its foster- brothers and sisters overboard. The creature is restless and uneasy until it has managed to oust them every one, and get the whole place to itself. Then it rests quiet, and eats and dozes and grows; and the hollow on its back fills up, and it is shaped much as are other young birds who have had no murdering to do. Later on in its life comes another Cuckoos and Swallows. 17 wonderful exercise of "instinct." It has never seen its real parents; it can have had no sort of teaching from them in the way in which it must go. A solitary, untrained being it is from the very manner of its rearing untrained, that is, in the habits and plans of Cuckoos. And yet, when the time comes, it obeys the mysterious law that rules its nature, and, untaught, un- guided, flies southward, over the seas and plains that lie between its birth-place and the land whither it must go. If the Swallows had minds where- with to marvel, they would wonder at that ! They take infinite pains to teach and train their own darling brood, even as they were themselves trained by their parents before them. And in the autumn they gather the giddy ones, and keep a bright watch upon them, and make their migration in huge flocks. No c 1 8 About the Feathered Folk. chance of the youngest and least sensible Swallow being lost for lack of guidance. All the world knows when the Swallows go, and how they go. Hannah Hatherly watched them last year, when, in the earliest gleam of the dawn, they rose in hundreds from the big barn roofs and took their southward way. All the world misses them, and wishes them a safe return. But who ever saw the Cuckoo start? The old birds leave England in August; but the younger ones cannot be ready then for so long a flight. They go upon their lonely way, flying singly along the track where their kindred have gone ; and in the far-off southern clime they "fore-gather" with the unknown relations whom they have never seen. How do they recognize their Cuckoos and Swallows. 19 own ? How do they find mates ? Why do they doom their own off- spring to the fate that must at best be sad and cheerless ? These questionings come from our point of view, of course. I don't suppose the Cuckoo is really less happy than are other birds; but we cannot help judging by our own standards, and must always patch human ideas on to the crea- tures' experiences. We love the Swallows for their friendly trust, for their care of their young ones, for their love for their old home. And we cannot withhold a righteous disapproval of some of the Cuckoo's ugly ways. [For we call them ugly being too ignorant, even the wisest of us, to understand the needs-be and the reason in the puzzles of the world.] As the dear old sound of the Cuckoo-call comes down the fresh and fragrant air, as the bright wings 20 About the Feathered Folk. of the Swallows flash past us in the sunshine, we must unless our heart be very dead and stupid bless God for the pleasure they give to our ears and to our eyes those free, wild, beautiful birds who come with the spring-time and the flowers. CHAPTER IL GOLDEN EAGLES. AM writing in Scotland, "where Eagles are still common," as a book written by a member of the British Ornithologist's Union says. If not exactly "common," in the usual sense of the term, Eagles are still to be seen in the Hebrides, in the wilds of Skye, and also in those Perth- shire glens where Rhoderic Dhu gained his bonnet-plume long ago. Even here where I am abiding, close to the " bonny green banks of Loch Lomond," I have met with one, at least. Two years since I was helping a 22 About the Feathered Folk. dear and aged lady down the steps of our kirk door. Her carriage, a hired fly, was waiting for her; but the driver, one of the great clan of Campbell, remained perched on his box, while in hurried tones he begged me to act footman, and hand the lady in. A little surprised at his manner, I did so, and the carriage rumbled away ; and I forgot all about Campbell's queer- ness it was but a slight matter, after all. I met the fly before I leached home, as it was returning after having set down its fare. The man drew up. " I'm begging your pardon, mem," he said. " I couldn't well leave the box, ye see, for I've got just an Eagle here ! " An Eagle ! Had our trusty and only flyman gone crazy this Sabbath morning? "Aye, mem ; just that. And Golden Eagles. 23 knowing ye're so interested in the creatures and the birds, I made bold to tell you. I didn't inform the old lady for fear she'd be frightened." "But where is the Eagle?" "Just here, mem; behind my own heels, wrappit in the horse- rug. I'm taking him home to look to him. He's wounded, I surmise." I got into the cab : it was an open one, and Campbell and I could converse quite comfortably. "Drive on to your house," I said, "and tell me all about this as you go." So Campbell began to explain. "This morning when you were all in the kirk, I was up to the hill. Way-off by the burn, just below the trees, I noticed something stirring in the brackens. Thinking 'twas perhaps a dog, I flung a stone, and shooed it off, for it could be after no good there with game 24 About the Feathered Folk. about. But 'twas ne'er a dog ! I saw the bright eye, the lifted beak of a big bird a hawk, maybe ; but a hawk tremenjous big, and if 'tis not an Eagle I'm a thick- head!" " And you caught it ? " "I flung the horse-rug over it, mem. I'd the cloth with me to gie it a bit drying after the shower, and I flung it with a twist o' me arm over the brackens and the bird, and rolled all together; and as the kirk was near on scaling" (i.e. the congregation near to coming out), " I tucked the bundle under the driving seat, put the horse to, drove home my fare, and now I'm just about to give the creature an examination." Five minutes more and we were standing in Campbell's shed, with the bundle between us, gingerly uncovering a corner or two. The bird rustled about a bit, but showed Golden Eagles. 25 no sort of fight ; and presently, waxing bolder, we removed the rug entirely, and there, among the hand- fuls of crushed fern, was certainly an eagle A Golden Eagle in the rich plumage of late summer. Its glorious eyes glanced at us with not a shade of fear. It extended its enormous wings as if to fly, but seeing the shed roof over it, and perhaps overcome by weakness and suffering, it folded them again, and lowered its noble head with a gesture that was almost human in its despair. Then we saw that attached to its right leg was an iron trap and a fragment of rusted chain. The cruel teeth had divided two of the claws, and they hung but by the sinews still clenched in the trap a fearful load for the bird to bear. The wound had healed, and the sinews were dry and shrunken, showing it was long since the thing had happened. 26 About the Feathered Folk. And in all that time hunger and pain must have torn at the Eagle's very life. It could, certainly, fly slowly through the blue air: it could reach the mountain peaks, where it must have lain panting in the sun, suffering dumbly day by day. It could find water to quench its thirst ; but food the prey which Nature designed for its needs must have been an impossible quest for those weakened and weighted wings. Campbell's clasp-knife was out in a moment, the dry sinews were divided, and the horrid iron thing fell to the ground. Then we con- sidered how to feed the bird. Campbell's mother, a kindly High- land woman, gladly gave up the uncooked shoulder of mutton, which was to have served for " the week's end," when the Sabbath roast leg should all be consumed. A shoulder of mutton makes a respectable meal Golden Eagles. 27 for two or three hungry men, but the eagle managed to consume every scrap of it at one sitting ! It was revolting to me to see it tear at the food, its overmastering hunger rendering it quite oblivious of curious onlookers. But Mrs. Campbell regarded its performance with great admiration. " My heart ! it can eat!" she cried once or twice ; while her son silently weighed the possible chances of gain against the actual loss of that shoulder of mutton. It was a day or two before I saw the Eagle again. Campbell was at home, and delighted to exhibit his prize. Three or four people were with me, for the fame of the capture had spread; and Campbell stepped off to the shed, bidding us wait where we were, as "the big bird was as tame as a door-side goose ! " We were all a little startled when 28 About the Feathered Folk. he reappeared, carrying the Eagle in his arms, as one might carry a baby ; and he set the creature down on an upturned washing-tub that his old mother had left near by, and passed a caressing hand proudly over the splendid bronze- and-purple sheen of its feathers. The bird shook out its mighty wings, and moved its graceful neck, but it never offered to fly. Its eyes followed Campbell wherever he went with a devotion curious and pretty to see. " It loves me," the man said. "Belike it knows that but for the meeting in the ferns it would be dead by now, and it's grateful. Puir beastie ! Ye'll never be hungry mair ; that I'll promise ye ! " And it never has been. For it was sold for five bright sovereigns to a fishmonger in Glasgow, and there in the shop it lives in a handsome wooden cage, greatly Golden Eagles. 29 admired by customers and visitors ; lavishly fed and abundantly petted by its master. I suppose it was those weeks of torture that broke its spirit. It is gentle now to a degree ; and when- ever Campbell the cabman comes to see it which he does as often as his business may take him to Glasgow the bird turns to his call as tamely as a pet canary. And yet it is pathetic to see it in the fishmonger's shop, and sorrow- ful any one who knows anything about the nature of Eagles. Its glorious eyes rest upon the ignoble details of a dingy town, instead of piercing the broad blue distances of the mountains, lakes, and seas. This bird, the very type of royal strength and freedom, is a sort of live advertisement to a tradesman's Thousands of years ago the 34 38 About the Feathered Folk. follows the familiar " downy-browny" birds, as they come flitting through the hedges, or hopping about our doors. Cock Robin is always "bold " to us, and we look for him, and pet him, and admire him, reckoning him as much a part of homely winters as are the holly leaves themselves. Jenny Wren has nothing to do with him in reality; it is only in song and in our fancy that her fortunes are linked with his. But we love her almost as much, and think that her shy, retiring ways greatly befit so tiny and dainty a creature; and if the praise we give to her modest dress be quite mis- placed, it is not the less sincere. That Brown Gown of hers is a most wonderful and perfect gar- ment ; and the absence of colouring upon it makes it all the more ex- quisitely fitted for her needs. She lives amongst the hedge-stems, the Gowns, and Robes. 39 roots and gnarled boughs of the copse ; she flits along the mossy banks, where the last year's leaves lie in nooks and ridges, leaves which are now just of the same tints as her round little body. Her in- significance is her protection ; those beautifully - marked and rippled feathers of hers match and blend with the colours of the places which she loves. The Brown Gown is in itself worth a few minutes' consideration. Few of us pause to give thought to such common and light things as mere feathers. And yet, if any man could rightly understand the whole truth about one single feather, he would be wiser than was King Solomon. My dictionary explains the nature of fcathers as being " a complicated modification of the tegumentary system forming the external cover- ing or plumage of birds, and peculiar to this class of animals." 4O About the Feathered Folk. But a simpler way of looking at them 'will content most people. Let us borrow two feathers from Jenny's Brown Gown, and see what they can tell us. This stiff one is from the wing ; it has come from near the end of the pinion, as one can tell from its structure. The feathers of a bird's wing are divided into three groups, according to the three wing-bones upon which they are placed. The stiffest and strongest grow on the tip of the wings, for in flight these have the hardest work to do, and must necessarily cover more dis- tance, and move more quickly than the softer, more yielding ones which grow upon that part of the wing which is close to the bird's body. The wing itself is hard and stiff along its forward edge, soft and yielding along the posterior margin. It is formed to strike and cut the air in flight, and also to allow 1he Gowns, and Robes. 41 beaten air to escape easily, as the body of the bird is forced onwards. Each quill-feather follows the exact same plan. Its forward edge is hard and strong, the other curved and fluffy; and as the feathers at the outer extremity of the wing have the most weight to bear, and the most force to exert, they are the stiffest and the strongest of all. The delicate surface of the feather is like a beautifully- woven web. Press the tip of your finger against it, and see how elastic it is ; soft and silky as the finest triumph of the weaver's art. And yet it is not woven, but merely hooked together by tiny filaments, technically called barbules. There are two sets of these upon every one of the vanes or barbs, which project from the quill ; one set is curved upward, the other downward, and they hold so tightly one into another as to form a compact and close surface. 42 A bout the Feathered Folk. It is this arrangement that makes Jenny's " gown " so smooth. Under the feathers there are minute tufts of down, filling up every crevice. It is this that makes Jenny's " gown " so warm. And the whole covering is adapted to every movement of the quick little body it clothes. Long feathers grow where the limbs are prominent, short ones where it is only needful to clothe and protect. And each and all grow in curiously separated planta- tions, as it were ordered exactly so as to interfere in the least possible degree with the bird's freedom of motion. That Brown Gown is as convenient as it is beautiful, and in it Jenny flits from bush to bush about her own business which, during the spring and summer, is a very important business indeed. She rears two broods a year, and her children generally number ten or twelve. Ten or twelve little Gowns, and Robes. 43 ones, all clamouring for food at the same time, must be a bewilderingly troublesome possession ! Her mate helps her manfully, and together they make raids upon insects and worms, and such other dainties, fly- ing backwards and forwards to the nest, which they built with such care and love so dearly. A Wren's nest is really one of the prettiest things one can find in a day's march. It is often tucked under the sods of a turf-topped wall, or under the thatch of a shed ; sometimes it is pushed away beneath the gnarled roots of a tree, or against a stone in a mossy bank. Always it is placed where it will be sheltered from wind and rain. Then it is domed above, and furnished with a tiny door on the sunny side, and decked about with bits of moss and dead leaves and twigs and lichens, until even the sharpest human eyes might take it for nothing more than 44 A bout the Feathered Folk. a heap of forest litter swept into a corner by the breeze. Inside it is lined with finest feathers and hair and tiny grasses ; and here the little round palely-spotted eggs are laid, and Jenny broods above them, her mate feeding her mean- while, and singing to keep her courage up, until the proud day when the nestlings are hatched. Then there is no more time for sitting still, or for singing, since the clamorous family have to be fed. And so the bright days pass, with much bustle and flitting of brown wings ; r.nd the young cnes grow apace; and soon the songs begin again, short little cadences of joy- ousness, which serve as lessons foi the youngsters now. In winter the fledglings and parents cuddle together for shelter under an outhouse roof. I have seen them, watched them, dancing about the rafters of a cow-house, Gowns, and Robes. 45 enjoying the warmth with that peculiar air of jauntiness by which Wren-nature expresses satisfaction with things as they are. " Wrens, are they ? " said a friend of mine when I pointed out to him the little brown things flitting in the half-light ; " I took them for bats ! " It is astonishing how little some people know of that beautiful life the old fairy-tale life that is about us in the fields and woods and waters. Bats or Wrens it is all the same to some blind souls. There is a knowledge that comes more through the heart than the head, and is as Kingsley suspected one of those secrets which God may hide from the wise and reveal to babes. Only patient and loving watchfulness can really teach us much about our Father's plans for His wonderful creatures. But once let a man open heart and eyes, once let him stop and "consider," 46 About the Feathered Folk. as his Lord bade him do, and I defy him not to go onwards, and long to know more and yet more ; and to rejoice that, however much one may learn, there are yet infinite wonders ahead. Dear Jenny, in her brown gown, is here, there, arid everywhere in England ; and all the year round one may peep at her, and get to symphathize with that busy, useful, cheery life of hers. But the Birds of the Jewelled Robes never reach our dim skies and cold airs. It is vain to look for them in Zoological gardens, or in aviaries, however splendid and carefully kept. Their skins come; and these skins are stuffed, and kept under glass cases ; but one must journey all the way to the tropics to see the true beauty of the Humming-birds. "Jewelled" is really the right word to describe them. A negro Gowns, and Robes. 47 girl in the West Indian island of Tobago, where they swarm, wrote of them : "The purple amethyst, theemerald's green They wear, together with the ruby's sheen ; While over all a tissue is put on Of golden gauze, by fairy fingers spun." The description at first hand, as it were is worth more than the rhyme, perhaps ; and it is interesting as proving things about Humming- birds, and also the love of beauty which is deep in the negro race. Most of us would rejoice to be able to see with our own eyes the luxuriant glory of the Humming- birds' home. I have read of it until I would fain step on board the next steamer that drops down the river, and start to see it for myself. I have gazed at the flowers, butter- flies, and birds until I fancy I have gained some faint inkling of what the tropics may be. But, ah ! the 48 About the Feathered Folk. flowers are all pent under hot-house glass ; the butterflies are ranged in glass cases ; and the birds are, all of them, stuffed. My imaginings must needs come far short of the reality, although they have been, and are, an enormous pleasure to me. It is delightful even to think of the dazzle and beauty of the palm-groves and forest-fringes, where the tiny Humming-birds seem as one of the gorgeous flowers about them. Perhaps no plumage less glittering would fit in with the blossoms, the shining leaves, and with the brilliant insects and reptiles which in those climes "feed, un- hindered, in the sun." And, just as our Jenny's Brown Gown suits her surroundings, so does the Jewelled Robe chime in with the glitter and glory of the South. There are more than three hundred species of Humming-birds, and they all live in America. Gowns, and Robes. 49 That last fact seems a little hard on other divisions of the globe until we remember the sun-birds of the Eastern tropics. They almost rival the Americans in their beauty of plumage. But the smallest of the sun-birds are twice the size of the largest of Humming-birds. Perhaps it is their marvellous minuteness their rapid flight, their whirring wings, which buzz as do the wings of a bee that have roused men's admiration and wonder almost as much as those feathers. They are easily tamed, and learn to come at call, and will take honey from the hand, hovering upon their revolving wings as their long bills daintily sip the offered nectar. They are courageous little mites, and fly in and out of their scraps of nests fearlessly even when one stands and stares at them. The nests are made, generally, of the fluffy tufts of the cotton-tree, formed 5O About the Feathered Folk. and fashioned into a rather deep cup. One species of Humming-bird the " ruff-necked honey-sucker " wraps its nest round and about with spiders' webs, and fastens them into place by a natural gum secreted by glands in the mouth of the bird. Little fragments of red and yellow lichen are stuck here and there, evidently for ornament The eggs, of the purest and most delicate whiteness, are seldom more than two in number; but, as the Humming- bird breeds all the year round, the successive pairs of nestlings count up to a pretty respectable tale of children in the end. People who live in London do not half appreciate one of the most beautiful sights that London affords, and that is the Natural History Museum in the Cromwell Road, South Kensington. Perhaps the word " museum " has a dull sound, and scares folk away. One remem- Gowns, and Robes. 5 r bers the musty-fusty "specimens" one sees in the " naturalists' " shops; or one has vague ideas of Egyptian mummies, and incomprehensible catalogues; and museums are apt to be given a wide berth. But that handsome building in the Cromwell Road is a sort of fairy-land. The most lively spirit could not deem it dull. Enter it, my friend, if you live in London ; or if visiting there, you can plan out a leisure hour. I will be bound that going once, you will go there again, provided you are possessed of the average amount of brains and of eyesight There, at any rate, you will gather some dim idea of what the Humming-bird may be. Here is the nootka, a native of Mexico, a mite about two inches- long. The upper parts of the body is of a clear, shining green; a large patch of topaz-like red covers the breast, bordered by a band of 52 About the Feathered Folk. snowy-white. The tail is queerly wedge-shaped, and glitters with green and chestnut and gold ; and on each side of its throat comes a long outstanding tuft of lustrous feathers of a coppery-greenish gloss. Here, too, is Gould's humming- bird, "roiseau-mouche," as the French call it. Its neck-ruff is formed of narrow white feathers, shining like the frost, and each one bearing an emerald spot on its tip, bordered by a darker tint. But it is useless, quite useless, to attempt to convey by mere words the beauty of the Jewelled Robes ! They were formed by the Power which beheld all that was made, and saw that it was good. They are proofs that beauty is in itself use : even as true use must in itself always be beautiful. Our English Wren and the glitter- ing " Oiseau-mouche," tiny as they both are, have their appointed place Gowns, ai:d Robes. 53 and portion in God's great world. The Hand which hung the stars in their spheres, lovingly fashioned the debate feathers of the Brown Gown and the radiant Robe; and if God Himself stooped to plan for the well-being of His little birds, surely we, His human children, ought to take a little time to consider and mark what He has done. Even a feather can help us to know Him better. Even a Wren and a Humming-bird can serve to enkindle our praise. 54 About the Feathered Folk. CHAPTER IV. PENGUINS. fATURE has odd ways of knotting her ropes' ends. Did ever you notice that there are animals so akin to plants that it is difficult to say to which " kingdom " they belong ? That there is a flower a moss, rather that eats meat ; that there is a mammal that is almost a fish ; that there is a fish that behaves strangely like a bird ; that there is a bird that lives almost the life of a fish, and possesses almost a fish's fins and scales ? (Some people there are, indeed, who go so far as to say that there Penguins. 55 are men who act exceedingly after the manner of beasts; and beasts who might be confounded with men, had they only the gift of speech !) To-day I am going to write of one of these strange creatures the fish-like bird. And I would advise such of my readers who happen to be within reach of the Zoological Society's Gardens to go there on the first opportunity, and, entering the aquarium, ask the keeper to show them not his fish, but his Penguin. It is an odd little oily, sharp-eyed thing, and scuttles over the floor in a way that shows it was not formed for floors ; nor, indeed, for any one of the conditions under which it has to exist in London. Its true home is in the great South Pacific Ocean, where its family, and its near cousins (the King-penguins) live in enormous 56 Aboiit the Feathered Folk. flocks in the wide wastes of the trackless sea. They live literally in the ocean, spending their lives for months at a time hundreds of miles from land, and only resorting to some island or desolate shore when the breeding season is ap- proaching, and feather-moulting time is at hand. The captain of a Glasgow ship trading to Australia and Tasmania, gave me a wonderful account of Penguins. He cares greatly for beasts and for birds, and is a pretty close observer of their ways ; and I know I can trust his eyes just as I should trust my own. And as I have only myself seen that poor little Zoological Garden Penguin, I am glad to avail myself of his experience. They dive and swim, these fish- like birds, in the most amazing way, skipping continually in and out of the water, breasting the most Penguins. 57 troubled seas, moving their power- ful webbed feet and their fin-like wings until their bodies are pro- pelled as fast as the fish themselves. It is even declared to be a fact that, in times of severe storm, they can dive to the bottom of the sea, where, amongst beds of coral and fields of sea-weeds, they can wander and feed in comparative quiet Of course they have to come often to the surface for a mouthful of air; but so have whales and seals and other lung-breathing creatures. They are very sociable, and appear to lead a merry sort of life, bravely facing hardship and danger, and slipping in and out of difficulties without "turning a feather." Per- haps their scaly feathers do not easily turn, and the dangers of the lonely and terrible seas do not seem awful to them. They may be seen sitting standing is a better term for that attitude of theirs on the edges 58 About the Feathered Folk. of the ice-floes, the low pale sun- light throwing their shadows over the throbbing waters, as they call to one another in their harsh, discordant voices. They are not without a weird sort of beauty. They have white breasts, bluish backs, with a handsome canary- coloured streak on their heads ; their strong beaks and wide feet are a reddish-brown. But if their plumage be handsome, not one word of praise can be given either to their figures or their gait. They are just as clumsy as it is possible for birds to be. They waddle, and run in jerks ; and they carry their wings hanging helplessly outward, much as a seal carries his flipper-fins more in the manner of arms than wings. In early spring-time, when the icy seas are warming somewhat, and the raging gales are abating in fury, the Penguins resort to their land- homes. They choose flat rocks in Penguins. 59 a deep bay, or the more sheltered side of an island, and to these places they come year after year, genera- tion after generation. And if the wide ocean is a loneliness, a deso- lation, these land-homes are exactly the opposite. How they are crowded ! " Her- rings in a barrel " is the proverbial synonym for tight placing, but the herrings lie quiet and silent in their barrel for exceeding good reasons; the Penguins are continually scuffling and shuffling, until one would think they must themselves be deaved, to use a Scottish word, by the hubbub and commotion. The business of rearing a family is a very serious one to everybody, but to the Penguins it is for three or four months the chief object of life. Personal comfort, daily food, likes and dislikes, are all nowhere in comparison with hatching of eggs and the training of children. The eggs, two in number, are laid 60 About the Feathered Folk. in a slight depression in the rock, and over them the mother bird broods until they are hatched. Should she be disturbed during this time, she will shuffle away, the precious eggs smuggled off between her thighs. She never leaves them even for a moment. The male bird goes to sea to fish for food for her. He feeds her with the most affec- tionate care, and with such assiduity, that she becomes enormously fat : she has, you see, so little exercise, and nothing in the world to do but to sit still, to eat the fish brought to her, and to coddle those two smooth, exquisite eggs. But once the young birds are hatched it is a very different affair. Both parents have to go out fish- ing then, for the babies have un- quenchable appetites, and, slave as they may, there are always two wide-gaping mouths eager for food until both father and mother grow Penguins. 61 lank and attenuated, mere "rickles of bones," while their bantlings on the rocks are fat as tiny pigs. Young Penguins take an enormous time to grow up. They keep their baby-clothes (their immature downi- ness) for two or three months, and all this time their parents slave for them and adore them. Suddenly they blossom out into all the glory of adult plumage : their tails extend into stiff points of rigid feathers; their wings are covered with scale- like plumes ; the yellow streaks dawn upon their heads ; the oily layers of dusky blue clothe their robust shoulders. And then their education begins. They have lived all this time on the rocks, pampered and catered for ; now the time has come for them to face life in earnest. The sea is to be henceforth their fishing-field, their play-ground, their chief abiding place. 62 Aboiit the Feathered Folk. But the sea comes dashing sa- vagely over the fringes of the shore, and the surf breaks for ever against the rocks. It is enough, quite enough, to make a three-months-old Penguin nervous. Trust themselves, and those new, shining feathers of theirs, into that white flurry of water how is it possible ? The old birds insist not on the possibility only, but upon the ne- cessity. They coax the trembling youngsters to the edge of a rock, and coming slyly behind them, push them over into the sea. It is worse treachery than that of any old Ramsgate bathing-woman ! One can fancy the fright, and the gasping, the hoarse screams of piteous re- monstrance ; also the parent-birds' matter-of-fact way of coming to the rescue, showing how the fin-wings are to be used; how the oar-like Penguins. 63 feet can propel and steer ; how the briny deep should not be a terror, but a joy. For many days the lessons con- tinuejust a splash in the surf the first day ; half a mile of a swim the second ; then a stretch that increases every time until the young ones have learned the full use of their muscles, and are sufficiently strong to endure the full roughness of the sea. Be it remembered that, in the latitudes where the Penguins live, the Pacific Ocean is pacific only in name. No- where do mightier surges sweep and rise ; nowhere do the waves sink and swell in such mountainous heaps as off the terrific " Horn," and around the dreary cliffs and regions of the Antarctic Pole. From a Penguin point of view, their land-homes at least are not dreary. Their colonies are enormous. At one place on Macquarie Island the multitude of birds in the breed- 64 A bout the Feathered Folk. ing season covers forty orJifty acres. Dr. Bennett, in his book on those regions, says, " The number of Pen- guins in spring-time is immense. It would be impossible to guess at it with any near approach to truth, as during the whole day thirty or forty thousand of them are continually landing, and an equal number going to sea. They sit quite upright in their roosting-places, and walk in an erect position until they arrive at the beach, when they throw them- selves on their breasts, in order to encounter the very heavy sea which is always to be met with at their landing-places. "Theyarrange themselves when on shore in as compact a manner, and in as regular ranks, as a regiment of soldiers on parade. And they class themselves in the greatest order the sitting hens in one situation, the moulting birds in another, the young birds in a third, the ' clean ' birds in Penguins.