Part 33

We are indebted to the Prince von Wied for an exhaustive account of this species, from which we shall extract such particulars as our space will permit. This remarkable bird, he tells us, inhabits the whole of South America, but is most numerous in the northern portions, frequenting woodland districts, and such plantations or human habitations as may be in the immediate neighbourhood of forests, but avoiding barren or open parts of the country. It is social and active, flying about incessantly amongst the trees, and hanging suspended by its sharp claws from the branches, from time to time plucking a favourite fruit, and carrying it off with cries of delight to another spot where it may be eaten in safety. During the season, oranges and bananas constitute its favourite food, and large quantities of valuable fruit are thus destroyed, in spite of all the precautions taken by the planters for its preservation; but at other times the Japu contents itself with less dainty fare, and subsists principally upon insects and berries. Few scenes are more animated than that afforded by a settlement of these interesting birds, as they perch upon the branches of the forest trees, in parties of some thirty or forty couples, or fly about filling the whole air with their strange and varied song, the general effect of which, when thus heard in chorus, is far from unpleasing, though some notes are harsh, and others very shrill.

Their nests, which are extremely curious, are suspended close together from the branches of the highest trees; in shape they are not unlike a purse, being long, narrow, and rounded at the bottom, usually three or four feet long, and not more than five or six inches wide. A bough of about the thickness of a man's finger is usually chosen for their support, and to this they are stoutly fastened, a long and narrow hole being left at the top for an entrance. Occasionally these abodes are built one upon another, each being provided with a separate opening. The Japu constructs this large and beautiful fabric with the greatest care, weaving together the various fibres of which it is formed so strongly, and with so much skill, as to render the task of tearing it to pieces a work of real difficulty. When the nest is completed a soft, warm bed of moss or leaves is made at the bottom of the bag, and upon this the eggs, one or two in number, are laid. We ourselves have never found more than one young bird in the nest, but believe we are correct in stating that two eggs are sometimes deposited: they are slightly elongated in shape, the shell being white, with reddish-violet or deep purple streaks and spots. The nestlings have loud, harsh voices, and resemble their parents in plumage very shortly after being fledged, as the yellow tail is soon acquired. Immediately after the breeding season young and old congregate in flocks, and seek for food upon their favourite fruit-trees. A more strange or beautiful sight can scarcely be imagined, says the Prince von Wied, than that of a tree laden with dozens of the curious nests, and animated by the presence of a party of Cassicans, whose glorious plumage seems to gain new beauty as they spread their tails, raise their wings, after the manner of the swan, inflate their breasts, and utter their flute-like cry, as though to attract the observation of a stranger, whose near approach they will permit without exhibiting any sign of fear. The flight of this bird is swift and light, the peculiar motion of its wings producing a whirring sound, which is distinctly audible. The natives of South America shoot the Japu for the sake of its flesh, although somewhat tough and coarse, and for its feathers, which they apply to many purposes of ornamentation, frequently forming them into a plume to wear upon the forehead.

* * * * *

The BOAT-TAILS (_Quiscalus_), so called on account of the peculiar conformation of the caudal part of their plumage, are distinguished by their long, straight, conical beaks, the upper mandible of which is slightly curved and bent at its extremity. The wings are of moderate size, the tail much rounded, and the webs of its outer feathers turned upwards, something like the sides of a boat. The legs are delicately formed, and their coat, which is black, gleams in certain lights with metallic brilliancy.

THE GREAT BOAT-TAIL.

The GREAT BOAT-TAIL (_Quiscalus major_) is sixteen inches long, and twenty-four broad. Its entire plumage is black, but the head and neck are shaded with rich purple, and the wings and tail-feathers have a bright green shimmer. The female bird is considerably smaller than the male, rarely exceeding thirteen inches in length and eighteen in breadth; her colour is a dull, deep, greyish brown upon the upper part of the body, and reddish brown underneath. In both sexes the eye is pale yellow, and the beak and feet black.

This species inhabits the Southern States of North America, and is very numerous in marshy districts, or upon the banks of rivers; it likewise frequents the salt marshes, and may be seen on the sea coasts in large flocks during the entire year, searching in the mud for crabs and worms, upon which it principally subsists. It does not appear to feed upon insects, but is very destructive to fruit gardens, and fields of corn or rice. By the month of February the male has acquired his full beauty, and at once seeks a mate, retiring with her into the woods, where he exhibits his new plumage in every point of view, apparently to excite her admiration, its extreme brilliancy causing it to be seen glistening and shining even at some distance, as the bird expands its feathers in the full blaze of the sun. During the time employed in the selection of a companion all the quarrelsome feelings of which rivals are capable seem to be aroused, but that important business once settled, the flock subside into their usual peaceful state, and set about the construction of their nests in perfect harmony, usually preferring some marshy locality. The eggs are four or five in number, of a greyish white colour, variegated with brown and black spots. Both parents assist in rearing the young, who are supplied with all kinds of food, the nests of other species being frequently robbed in order to provide for the wants of the nestlings. The Boat-tails, in their turn, suffer considerably from the attacks of their many enemies, of whom the alligator may be considered as one of the most formidable, for being well aware what dainty morsels these fat and tender birds afford, it is ever on the watch to shake them from their nest among the reeds into the water, or by gliding quietly along in the direction from which it hears the young ones cry, secures at least a part of the brood, before the mother can warn her family of their danger. Like its congeners, the Boat-tail is extremely active; it climbs among the reeds with great rapidity, combining the boldness of the Crow with the agility of the Starling; its flight is undulating, and its song not unpleasing, though without great pretensions to melody. During autumn and winter it associates with many other birds, amongst which Herons are frequently met with.

* * * * *

The STARLINGS PROPER (_Sturni_) are birds of moderate size, compactly built, with short tails, long wings, rather long and broadly conical straight beaks, and high, strong feet; their plumage is rich, but harsh and very varied in its colouring. Like the rest of the family, they are of social habits, living together in flocks throughout the whole year, and carrying on all the business of life in common. Despite their somewhat clumsy appearance, they are extremely active, both upon the ground and in the air; their step is quick, but rather waddling; their flight light and noisy; and their movements in the trees extremely agile. All the members of the group are lively, restless, busy creatures, which may literally be said never to rest, except during the time they pass in sleep. Their food consists of insects, worms, and snails; occasionally they will eat fruit or the delicate parts of some plants, but never in such quantities as to be troublesome. The nest, which is large and irregular in its construction, is generally placed in holes of trees, rocks, or walls; the eggs are usually from four to seven in number. Few birds are more eminently adapted for domestication, their many talents rendering Starlings universal favourites when caged.

THE COMMON STARLING.

The COMMON STARLING (_Sturnus vulgaris_) combines all the many peculiarities of its family, and we have therefore selected it as the most suitable representative of their principal characteristics. The plumage of this bird varies considerably with age or the season of the year; in the spring the adult male is black, shaded with purple and green, these tints seeming lighter upon the wings and tail on account of the broad grey border by which the feathers are surrounded; some of those upon the back have greyish-yellow spots at their tips. The eyes are brown, the beak black, and the feet reddish brown. No sooner has the process of moulting been fully accomplished than the appearance of the bird is entirely changed, for all the feathers upon the nape, back, and breast are then tipped with white, and thus give the plumage the effect of being spotted; the beak also becomes considerably darker. The female resembles the male, but her plumage is even more spotted than that of her mate during the spring months of the year. The young are of a dark brownish grey, the region of the face being lighter than the rest of the body; the beak is greyish black, and the feet brownish grey. The length of this species is from eight and a half to eight and three-quarter inches, its breadth fourteen to fifteen inches; the wing measures rather more than four, and the tail from two and a half to two and three-quarter inches.

* * * * *

The COMMON STARLING is met with throughout almost the whole of Europe, principally frequenting its more southern portions, and preferring such wooded pastures or plains as are well watered or marshy. During its migrations it very frequently visits Northern Africa, and is an annual winter guest in Egypt and Algiers, but for the most part the flocks do not leave the Continent of Europe, and pass the colder part of the year in flying about the country in company with Ravens, Thrushes, and other similar birds. Few of the feathered tribe are endowed with so joyous and contented a disposition as is the Starling, whose cheerful voice may be heard amidst the utmost inclemencies of the weather, as it perches fully exposed to all the attacks of wind or rain, and appears philosophically indifferent to the scantiness of its supply of food. No sooner has spring commenced than the males may be seen about towns or villages, perching upon the steeples or high trees and pouring out their song, which is accompanied by a variety of animated gesticulations. We are, however, perhaps, giving our readers a wrong impression by speaking of the sounds uttered by the Starling as being a _song_, for it is, in fact, little more than a succession of harsh, loud, distinct sounds, uttered by the energetic vocalist with so much gaiety and expression as to render the performance quite attractive, especially when combined, as it occasionally is, with imitations of the songs of many other birds. Even such noises as the creaking of a door, the clattering of a windmill, or the crowing of a cock may often be clearly distinguished amongst its attempts at mimicry; the little singer will frequently continue its vocal exercise for many hours at a time, only pausing occasionally in order to go in search of food. The breeding season commences early in spring, when Starlings build their nests, usually in the hollows of trees, or, should these not be attainable, in holes of walls or old buildings, and many are the disputes and combats that take place among the members of a flock before all are suited with a home. The nest itself is formed of stalks of grass, thickly lined with a bed of soft feathers, collected from the neighbouring farmyards; but, should such warm materials not be procurable, the architect is equally contented to employ hay, straw, or even small twigs. The brood consists of five or six long, large eggs, having a somewhat rough but glossy shell, of a light blue colour; upon these the female alone sits, but both parents assist in obtaining the constant supply of food required by the nestlings, though the father of the family manages now and then to steal away from his duties and pass an hour in singing with a party of pleasure-seeking companions. No sooner have the young left the nest than the vocal performances to which we have alluded may be heard throughout the entire day, for they do not require attention from their parents except during the first week; after leaving their home they immediately associate themselves with others of their kindred, and fly about in companies that are often very numerous, being in time strengthened by the addition of the second families, to the rearing of which the parents almost immediately turn their attention. When the duties of incubation are terminated, the old birds at once leave their nests, and congregate in immense flocks, which pass the night either amongst the trees or in beds of reeds or osiers. These swarms, occasionally containing hundreds or rather thousands of Starlings, fly about in dense masses during the day, and retire at night to the same roosting-place, their numbers frequently occasioning the reeds upon which they settle to break beneath their great weight, thus obliging them to seek shelter elsewhere, a proceeding always accompanied by an amount of squabbling and screaming that is absolutely deafening. Before leaving the country, the parent birds revisit their nests, upon which they perch and sing every morning and evening. They only commence their migrations when compelled to seek shelter from the snow and frost, and lead as blithe and active a life in the countries to which they resort as they do in their summer haunts.

Few species are so deserving of the protection of man as these most useful birds, an account of whose services in clearing the ground from snails and other hurtful creatures would sound almost incredible, were we to compute the hosts of active destroyers from whose attacks our fields and gardens are thus preserved. With characteristic patience, a German naturalist has been at the trouble of ascertaining that a single young Starling will consume 140 snails in fourteen hours out of the twenty-four, during which the young nestlings are constantly fed, only about three minutes intervening between the arrivals of the parents with fresh supplies for the hungry beaks of the little family. We cannot follow the writer through all his intricate calculations concerning a large swarm of Starlings that visited the part of Thuringia in which he lived, and must content ourselves by giving our readers the extraordinary result--namely, that the 180,000 birds of which this unusually large flock was composed could not have cleared the ground of less than 12,600,000 snails and worms daily during the time they remained in that neighbourhood. The proceedings of the Starling when in search of food are extremely amusing, as it runs hither and thither, prying into every conceivable nook with keen eyes and ready beak, so as to render it impossible for its victims to escape detection; even when search by sight is impracticable, the tongue is employed to feel amongst the grass, and accomplishes its duty with most unerring precision. When exposed to the attacks of their foes, the cunning of these birds is of the utmost service in securing their safety. It will frequently happen that when flying about in company with Crows and Jackdaws, the enjoyment of the party is interrupted by the sudden appearance of a Falcon or Sparrow-hawk; no sooner does the enemy approach than the vigilant Starlings at once take the alarm and beat a hasty and quiet retreat, leaving the bird of prey to seek a victim among their less intelligent or observant companions. From man they have little to fear, for by him their numerous services are too fully appreciated to allow of any great number being doomed to a life of confinement. Still, when caged their qualifications are such as to render them general favourites. When kept alone they are readily tamed, but, on the contrary, should they be placed with other birds, they soon become quarrelsome: and, not content with constantly squabbling with their companions, have often been known to tear the nests of the latter to pieces, and throw out not merely the eggs but the young. In our own aviary we on one occasion found a very lively Starling flying about with a piece of white paper in its beak, and chasing the terrified occupants in all directions, this sportive performance apparently affording the greatest delight to the perpetrator of the joke, who seemed to enjoy the alarm and screams thus excited. Most extraordinary are the tales told of the facility with which this species can be taught to speak or imitate almost any sound; an instance is recorded of a Starling having learnt to repeat the Lord's Prayer quite distinctly, without missing a word; the naturalist Lenz, to whose curious calculations respecting these birds we have already alluded, kept one of them tame, and tells us that this creature not only whistled two tunes, and could utter syllables, but that it understood and obeyed his words and gestures like a dog.

The following narrative, for which we are indebted to the kindness of Dr. McFarlane McBirnie, will be read with interest:--"My father," writes Dr. Birnie, "from boyhood was passionately fond of birds, when under ten years of age he travelled from Balpon to Linlithgow and back, a distance of forty miles, in order to get a canary. A few years after, having broken his leg, he was confined to the recumbent position for two months, the tedium of which was relieved by the company of his favourites. In 1845 he bought a fledgling Starling for eighteen-pence, and at once commenced its education. He spent three hours a day (not, of course, consecutively) for twelve months before he brought it to perfection. From the very first, poor 'Richard,' as it was called, showed a love of learning, he seemed actually to drink it in; he would lie with his head inclined, as a person does when he wishes to listen intently, and would lean against the wires of his cage to be as near as possible to the sound; and I would here remark that in training a bird to sing and speak, the instruction should be imparted in a subdued, semi-whispering tone, in a darkened chamber, where there is nothing to distract the attention. My father made it a point to give Richard half an hour's tuition every night after ten o'clock, in total darkness, and he says he found it more tractable then than at any other time. It would take up too much space to show the _rationale_ of this; I may state, however, that in early morning birds are intent on procuring food, and cannot be expected to listen to instruction, and then, during the day there are so many things going on in a house, so many diverse sounds, that it is impossible for them to single out the vocables we wish, whereas, after three hours' repose, when there is no desire for food, no wish for the pleasure of muscular motion, no sounds or sights to withdraw their attention, then is the fitting time to teach. By the time Richard was able to hop from perch to perch, his master saw that his pupil was striving to imitate him; never was scholar more apt or more gratified at receiving a prize than Richard was at getting a bit of hard-boiled egg on achieving two or three additional notes, and in this way he soon became the Mario of Starlings. At the word of command--as at the down-beat of a conductor's baton--Richard started off with the 'Hills of Glenorchy.' I regretted my father had not selected a more popular tune; yet I question if one could have been got more adapted for the vocalisation of a bird: prolonged notes, such as minims or dotted crotchets, a bird is not able to maintain; a tune with quavers, and in marching time, is best adapted to their sustaining powers. After having whistled the 'Hills of Glenorchy,' Richard paused, as it were to draw breath, and said, 'That's the "Hills of Glenorchy"--that's a tune for the ladies;' 'A wee gill o' the best, here--quick, quick, make haste;' 'Richard's a pretty, pretty bird;' 'A coach and six for pretty Richard;' 'Richard's the boy for kissing the lasses;' here he imitated the sound of kissing, familiar to every one, which convulsed his audience with laughter, especially if a number of ladies were present; then added, 'Now for the "Hills of Glenorchy,"' and began _de novo_. I have heard many birds articulate, and am sure I shall be corroborated in the statement that, more particularly in the Parrot tribe, the words are often a mere screech--harsh and dissonant to a musical ear, and in many cases a stranger would require to be informed beforehand what the bird was going to say, ere he could properly understand it; with Richard it was quite the reverse; his whole performance was thoroughly musical, and so accurate was his vocalisation, that when at his best the tuning-fork showed that his notes had not fallen to any appreciable extent at the end of his song. Hundreds of times have I seen him roused from sleep at midnight, to gratify parties who had come from a distance to hear him; my father would bend over the cage, and say in a petting sort of way, 'Come, now, Richard, give us the "Hills of Glenorchy,"' when the poor bird would hop over to the wires, place his bill in my father's mouth, get a kiss, and then go through the whole performance as often as he was asked. Richard had, besides his _chef-d'oeuvre_, many stray sentences, which of themselves would have rendered him famous, such as calling the dog, ordering coals, &c.; but these my father discouraged. Richard died at the patriarchal age of sixteen, deeply regretted by those who had, for so many years, looked upon and spoken to him as one of the family. While I write, he is looking down on me from his glass shrine."

THE SARDINIAN STARLING.

The SARDINIAN STARLING (_Sturnus unicolor_) is a species inhabiting Southern Europe, and distinguished from the bird last described by the long and slender feathers upon its head and nape, and by the colour of its plumage, the latter being of pale slate colour, almost entirely without spot, and only enlivened by a very slight metallic lustre. The coat of the young bird is dark brown. This species inhabits Spain, Southern Italy, and a large portion of Asia; it is common in Cashmere, Scinde, and the Punjaub; its size is somewhat larger than that of our Common Starling, which it closely resembles in its habits.

THE ROSE STARLING.