Cassell's book of birds; vol. 1
Part 5
The order that we have thus thought it advisable to establish is, however, by no means limited to the parrots; it includes various other seed-eating birds, chiefly belonging to the passerine tribes, the resemblance of which to parrots has been in some cases generally acknowledged in selecting the names ordinarily conferred upon them. Thus, the Cross-bills have long been known in Germany as the FIR-TREE PARROTS, and, on the other hand, the epithet of SPARROW-PARROTS, applied to some races of climbing-birds, clearly shows the relationship that exists between these generally dissevered groups.
The birds thus associated will be found to present many features in common. They live chiefly upon vegetable substances, and their strong beaks enable them to break up hard kinds of food, such as nuts, seeds, and grain. They will also eat fruit and leaf-buds, or the tender shoots of plants; many will devour insects; and a few do not altogether reject the flesh of other animals. They are all clever, lively, and active, much attached to the society of birds of their own species, though they do not often cultivate acquaintance with those belonging to a different family. Their great intelligence enables them to live comfortably even under disadvantageous circumstances, and their temperament allows them to fight the "battle of life" very cheerfully. Owing to the diversity of their habits, they are necessarily widely distributed, and some of them are to be met with in every climate; the parrots only are restricted to the torrid zones, the remaining members of the order being citizens of the world. As to the localities they frequent, much depends upon the absence or presence of the trees to which they usually resort, by far the greater number being strictly arboreal, passing their whole lives in flying from tree to tree, and confining their excursions to a very limited district. Only such as live in cold countries migrate; indeed, regular migrations--that is to say, such as take place at stated periods--or journeys to any considerable distance, are quite exceptional among them. They are, in general, very affectionate and docile; the male has frequently but one mate during his whole life, and nearly all of them brood more than once in the year.
The nests of this order of birds are of very various construction, and the number of eggs never large. The task of incubation usually devolves upon the female, who is cheered and tended by her mate during the period of her seclusion, but he also occasionally shares her labours, and both parents co-operate in feeding and taking care of their young. Many species are considered inimical to mankind, on account of their marauding attacks upon property; and yet the benefits they confer far outweigh any injuries of which they may be guilty. They clear away the seeds of noxious weeds, free the plants from insects; and their lively and cheering presence in the woods, their beauty, their song, and the ease with which they are tamed, together with other good qualities, fully entitle them to our admiration and regard. The flesh of most of them affords an appetising and healthy food, and the plumage of some species forms a beautiful and admired decoration.
PARROTS (_Psittacini_).
If it is ever permissible to compare animals of one class with those of another, we would state our opinion that the parrots hold among birds much the same position as that occupied by monkeys among quadrupeds. The truth of this remark will become obvious as we proceed with their history. Most systematists have considered parrots as entitled to take but an inferior place in the zoological series, founding this opinion upon a single characteristic which they share with many other birds of far humbler endowments; we allude to the prehensile structure of the foot. Parrots, Woodpeckers, Pepper-eaters, Curacus, Barbets, and Jacamars, are all climbing birds; that is to say, they all have two toes placed in front and two directed backwards; and, immaterial as this structure of the foot may appear, it has been deemed a sufficient reason for forming an order embracing several races of most dissimilar form, which present only this one feature in common. Little stress should, in reality, be laid upon this disposition of the toes, from whatever point of view it is regarded, seeing that Woodpeckers, Tree-creepers, and a great number of others that do not possess the scansorial foot, vie with the so-called climbing birds in the facility with which they climb. The three-toed Woodpecker is not inferior in the dexterity with which it can use its claws to any four-toed scansorial species; and we shall, we believe, be giving this climbing foot its proper appreciation if we compare it to and rank it with the flexible tail of some mammalia, the possession of which is not confined to any particular race, but bestowed alike upon arboreal species of the most various kinds. A foot of this description is by no means of such uniform structure as is usually supposed, and, in truth, is scarcely less varied than are the birds themselves; the foot of the parrot, in particular, differs essentially from the pair-toed foot of other Scansores, in the development of the central part, which renders it in its functions comparable to a hand. The parrots, in fact, constitute a distinct and very clearly defined race, their most distinguishing characteristic being found in the structure of their beak, which can never be mistaken for that of any other bird. At the first glance, indeed, the beak of the parrot would appear to resemble that of the birds of prey; but it is, in reality, much thicker and stronger, and also comparatively higher and more symmetrical in its form. The legs are thick, strong, and fleshy, but never long; the tarsus much shorter than the middle toe, and always covered with small scaly plates; the toes are moderately long, and have a thick sole, but this exists only on certain peculiar ball-like elevations; upon their upper surface the feet are covered with minute scales, resembling those of the tarsus; and these scales, as they approach the ends of the toes, become gradually larger, and project beyond the base of the claw upon the terminal joint in the shape of short tubular or band-like plates; the claws are not long, but much bent and tolerably sharp, never very powerful. The structure of the wings is in exact correspondence with that of the feet; the bones are of moderate length, but strong; the pinion feathers tolerably numerous--twenty to twenty-four. The compactly formed primary quills are seldom long, but so disposed that the outspread wing is generally pointed; the tail-feathers vary considerably in different species, both as regards length and shape. The general plumage is remarkable on account of its compactness; it consists of few feathers, but these are usually of large size, with the exception of those covering the head, which are small. The eye is in many instances surrounded by a naked patch of skin, which during life is usually powdered over with white dust. The body feathers are each furnished on the under side with a large downy appendage. The coloration of the plumage, notwithstanding its great diversity, will require notice, as presenting a feature very distinctive of the different races of parrots. The prevailing tint is a more or less vivid leaf-green; but we also meet with hyacinth, blue, purple, red, golden yellow, and at times darker hues; their distribution is also characteristic, more especially the frequent occurrence of complementary colours upon the upper and under sides of the same feather--blue-violet, dark blue, light blue or green above, with light yellow, orange-yellow, cinnabar red, or purple underneath. Not less peculiar is the frequent concealment of glowing tints among others which are less conspicuous, as, for example, in the case of some Cockatoos in which we meet with feathers having their lower portion and their downy roots of a deep cinnabar red or brilliant yellow, and yet this portion is seldom visible, on account of the length of the white feathers among which it is hidden.
The extraordinary intelligence exhibited by some parrots is particularly remarkable; it is, indeed, their sensible behaviour, not their form, that makes us regard these creatures as representatives of the Quadrumana. The parrot has, superadded to the form of a bird, all the qualifications and troublesome propensities of the monkey--humoursome and fickle at one moment, gentle and agreeable at the next; it is intelligent, active and circumspect, provident and crafty, very quick in discernment, and possessed of an excellent memory; on this account it is eminently susceptible of instruction, and may be taught almost anything. On the other hand, it is choleric, malicious, spiteful, and deceitful; it forgets injuries as little as it does kindnesses; it is cruel and inconsiderate to creatures weaker than itself, tyrannically ill-treating the helpless and unfortunate, as does the monkey. It has been the fashion to rank parrots as inferior to many other birds, because they do not exhibit such conspicuous capabilities of locomotion; they are, nevertheless, very well endowed, even in this respect. The larger species fly with apparent heaviness, but with considerable rapidity; the smaller, wonderfully well--so well, indeed, that we have been almost consoled for the loss of a favourite bird whilst watching the beauty of its flight. Very many appear to be quite out of their element when upon the ground, they seem to hobble rather than to walk, but there are some Ground Parrots that run swiftly and with much facility; and Gould makes mention of a Grass Parrot that he saw running upon the ground like a plover. The capability of hopping from bough to bough is an accomplishment in which parrots are deficient, nevertheless they have their own mode of progression among the branches; any considerable space they fly over, but smaller distances they pass by climbing, and that with considerable rapidity, unwieldy as some of them appear; helping themselves along by means of their beak, as well as their feet, while other birds use their feet only. Parrots are unable to swim, and are quite incapable of diving. The bill is far more movable than that of any other bird, and is useful for many purposes. Their voice is harsh and screaming, but yet not entirely destitute of an agreeable sound when heard in their native haunts. Some species will learn to whistle tunes with remarkable clearness and accuracy; the faculty which they possess of imitating the human voice and speech is well known--their performance, indeed, is wonderful; they do not babble, they speak, and seem to know the meaning of the words they use.
With the exception of Europe, parrots are to be met with in all parts of the world, more especially in tropical regions; one American species ranges as far north as 42°, and another is found in the southern hemisphere, as far as the inhospitable wastes of Tierra del Fuego, in 53° south latitude. Cockatoos are known to inhabit New Zealand and Macquarrie's island, 52° south. In Asia and Africa, the parrots are principally confined to the limits of the torrid zone; in China, they rarely pass 27° north latitude, and in India, at furthest, only extend to the foot of the Himalaya mountains. In Western Africa, they rarely go beyond 16° north, and in Eastern Africa, according to our information, not further than 15°; but towards the southern hemisphere they probably are to be met with at a greater distance from the equator.
Generally speaking, the woods are their favourite haunts; but this is by no means universally the case. There are certain species, for example, which only frequent treeless plains or wide steppes; in the Andes some are to be found living far beyond the region of trees, even at an altitude of 11,000 feet above the level of the sea.
In the north-east of Africa, according to our own experience, they almost exclusively reside in places frequented by monkeys, insomuch that apes and monkeys seem to be their inseparable companions. The more extensive the forests--that is, the richer they are in vegetation--the more these birds abound; indeed, in the tropical forests, they constitute a large--we might almost say, the largest--proportion of the feathered inhabitants. The same remark applies to Australia, as well as to many localities in India, and in part also to Africa; in these countries parrots are as numerous as crows are in Europe, and as common as sparrows.
They would seem to understand how to make themselves conspicuous; and while they deafen the ear with their discordant cries, enliven the dark shades of tropical forests with their lavishly-coloured plumage. "It is impossible," says Gould, "to describe the enchanting scene afforded by certain parrots, more especially by those adorned with feathers of glowing red, as they wheel their varied flight among the silver-leaved gum-trees of Australia, their gorgeous plumage standing out amid the surrounding scenery with wonderful effect."
"Morning and evening," writes Schomburgk, "countless multitudes may be seen at a considerable height, making an insufferable noise; one afternoon I saw such a prodigious flight descend upon the trees by the river-side, that the branches bent low under the weight of the birds." "It is necessary to have lived in these countries, more especially in the hot valleys of the Andes," says Humboldt, "to believe it possible that the shrieking of the parrots actually drowns the roar of the mountain torrents as the waters leap from rock to rock. What would those wondrous tropical forests be without parrots? Lifeless gardens of enchantment, a wilderness of silence, a solitary desert; by these birds they are awakened and kept alive, for the parrots know equally well how to find occupation both for the ear and eye of the traveller."
Except in the breeding season, parrots live in society, or, we might rather say, in great flocks; they select a locality in the forest as their settlement, and thence make daily excursions to considerable distances. Early in the morning they simultaneously quit their roosting-place, to invade the same tree or the same field in search of food, stationing sentinels, whose duty it is to protect the community from a sudden surprise. They pay instant attention to any voice of warning, and when alarmed, immediately take flight, either all together or shortly after each other.
"At the first glimmering of the clear morning sun of the tropics," says the Prince von Wied, "the parrots rouse themselves from their sleeping-places, dry their wings, which have become wetted with the dews of night, and playfully call aloud to each other; then, after describing many sweeping circles above the high woods, they quickly depart in search of the morning's meal. In the evening they invariably come back again to their usual roost."
Le Vaillant tells us that in south-eastern Africa the native parrots fly in little flocks in search of food, bathe about noon, and hide themselves among the foliage during the overpowering heat of the sun. Towards evening they disperse themselves, after which they again bathe, and then fly back to the same roosting-place from which they had departed in the morning. These roosting-places are very various--sometimes the thickly-leaved top of a tree, sometimes a rock full of holes, often a hollow tree trunk; the situation last mentioned seems to be especially sought after. "Their sleeping-place," says Audubon, speaking of the American parrakeets, "is a hollow tree, or the hole chiselled out in some tree's trunk, to be the nestling-place of the larger woodpeckers, that is, in case these are not occupied by their true owners. In the gloaming large flocks of parrots assemble around old hollow sycamores, or other trees of similar character; and may be seen immediately in front of the entrance clinging to the bark, until one after another they disappear through the hole that leads into the interior, in order to pass the night. When a hollow of this description is not sufficiently large to accommodate the numbers that are assembled, those that come last are content to suspend themselves by their bill and claws from the bark before the entrance.
"We have ourselves, in the primitive forests around the Blue River, in Africa, repeatedly watched the parrots at twilight, slipping one after another into their hole, and have observed them ranged with great regularity around the many perforations in the trunk of some old Adansonia.
"In India, the Collared Parrot, as Layard informs us, sleeps among the thickets of bamboos. "All Parrots, Bee-eaters, Grakles, and Crows from districts extending for many miles around, pass the night in flocks among the great bamboo plantations, where the dull rushing sound caused by their flutterings, constantly heard from sundown till dark, and from the first grey dawning in the east until long after sunrise, might almost be supposed by the observer to proceed from numerous steam-engines in full work. Many of these flocks returning late in the evening from their excursions, fly so near to the ground that they scarcely clear the obstacles to their course; indeed, they do not always succeed in doing so; for, several nights together, we have picked up parrots which had flown against walls or similar obstructions, and had been killed in consequence."
Layard gives a very lively account of the behaviour and doings of the Alexander parrot (a species commonly met with in Ceylon), at one of their sleeping-places.
In Chilau, he relates, that he has seen such massive flights of these birds winging their way to their roosting-places among the cocoa-nut trees that overshadow the market-place, that their cries completely drowned the Babel-like confusion of tongues heard among the buyers and sellers in the streets. He had previously been told of the flocks which thus pay their nightly visits, and placed himself, accordingly, towards evening, upon one of the neighbouring bridges, in order to form a calculation of the numbers that might make their appearance in a certain given direction. At about four o'clock in the afternoon they began to arrive; scattered swarms were seen wending their way homewards, to these there succeeded others still more numerous, and in the course of half an hour the homeward stream was apparently in full flow. He very soon found that it was impossible even to count the flocks, which seemed gradually to unite into one great living, roaring torrent. Some flew high in the air, until they were immediately over their roosting-place, and then suddenly plunged down, wheeling round and round towards the tree-tops, of which they were in search. Others crowded onwards, flying close to the ground--indeed, so closely that some of them nearly grazed his face. They swept along with the rapidity of thought, and their dazzling plumage seemed to be lit up with gorgeous brilliancy, as it glanced in the rays of the sun. He waited at his post of observation until the evening closed in, and he could see no longer, but even then the flight of the birds as they made towards their nests was audible. When he fired off a gun, they rose with a sound like that of a furiously rushing wind; soon, however, they again settled down, and commenced an indescribable hubbub. The shrill screams of the birds, the noise caused by the fluttering of their wings, and the rattling of the leaves of the palm-trees was so deafening, that he was heartily glad when he escaped from such a turmoil, and took refuge in his own house.
Next to a safe sleeping-place, the presence of trees thickly crowned with foliage is an essential requisite for the comfortable lodgment of parrots; this they require, not so much as a protection against the weather, as for a secure hiding-place. Of all things they like warmth, nevertheless they do not absolutely avoid a cool temperature, and still less are they afraid of wet, at least for a time.
"During the heavy tropical rain-storms that sometimes darken the air," says the Prince von Wied, "it is not uncommon to see parrots sitting motionless upon the dead branches at the very top of a tree, uttering cheerful screams, as the water streams off from their plumage; there may be dense foliage, and thick boughs immediately beneath, under which they might easily find shelter, but they prefer the warm shower, and seem to enjoy the wetting. No sooner, however, has the rain ceased, than they appear equally desirous to dry themselves, and to rid their plumage of the moisture."
In fine weather it is quite otherwise; they then decidedly prefer the shelter of the thickest trees, either as a protection from the burning heat of the sun, or for the purpose of concealment, and hasten to them at once on the slightest alarm. They know what an excellent protection to them, clothed as they are in leafy green, the verdant bower offers; and, truly, when thus ensconced, they are tolerably secure from observation; a man may know that there are fifty of them in a tree, and not see one. In playing their game of hide and seek, both the colour of their feathers, and the cunning so peculiar to all parrots, contribute to their safety;--they do not want to be seen. One of their company has just at the right time observed the approach of an enemy; he gives a sign, they are all at once silent, and withdraw themselves towards the centre of the tree; noiselessly, they climb to that side of the summit opposite to the spot where the enemy has appeared, they then fly off, and it is only when they are a hundred yards away that they seem to recover their voice, and scream to their hearts' content, apparently rather out of bravado, after having thus outwitted their pursuers, than for the sake of calling upon their companions. This clever game they play more especially when they have settled on some tree for the purpose of enjoying the fruit, as it is then that their thievish design is carried out with the greatest cunning. "Whilst on the wing," says Pöppig, "the large golden green Araras of the Andes will arrest their flight to come down upon the scarlet Coral trees (_Erythrinæ_) and the yellow _Tachiæ_, the heads of which they eagerly devour. Their cry is positively fearful; nevertheless, they are quite clever enough to understand that it would be dangerous to give utterance to it when they are just about to plunder some ripening field of Indian corn. At such a time, every one of them will repress its inclination to make a noise, giving utterance to no sound except a sort of murmur, with which it accompanies its proceedings, as it prosecutes its work of destruction with surprising quickness. The sportsman, or even the exasperated Indian, finds it by no means an easy task to surprise the thieves, seeing that two of the oldest birds are always set as watchmen upon the highest trees in the neighbourhood. The first note of alarm is immediately answered by a general, half-uttered cry from the assembled pilferers; the second is responded to by deafening screams, raised by the whole flock as they fly away, and it is only when their enemy has departed that they begin anew their destructive raid."
The presence of a numerous flock of parrots is generally only betrayed by the empty husks that rattle as they fall against the broad leaves of the bushes, producing a sound that can be heard from some distance.